#the surprise with which you repeatedly react to someone clearly showing interest in you is not encouraging me to believe the best

[vigilskeep]

i barely know anything yet about gale’s relationship with mystra but the red flags are so red flagging i can’t imagine how anyone comes away with some of the takes i have heard tell of. so she was your teacher before she was your lover, and while you were in this relationship the only creature who seems to have really taken care of you was very concerned about you not having friends “your own age” so to speak or indeed any social circle outside of this goddess teacher lover, and you’ve clearly been both magically and mentally extremely unwell for at least a year for something you partly did for her and are now in real constant danger while still unwell, and she the goddess of magic is doing nothing. cool. cool cool cool cool

[catboyebooks]

i’ve still got more chapter 5 stuff to talk about. is anybody surprised? since the last two posts were more character-focused, let’s talk about The Plot. specifically the events of this chapter. specifically the ways in which the events of this chapter bear (heh) similarities to the events of dr1. this one isn't going under the cut either, fair warning.

not saying anything groundbreaking here, but the sdr2 killing game very closely parallels the dr1 killing game. without even being exhaustive about it, let me point out some of the similarities in the murder cases:

in chapter 1 of both games the motive relates to the memory wipe, the murder takes place at night, the victim is killed by being stabbed repeatedly, the murder is instigated by someone who is not the killer (in both cases, also, the instigator is someone close to the protagonist), and the killer is collared around the neck and strapped to a pole as part of their execution

in chapter 2 of both games the motive relates to the past / secrets. the murder takes place near the water / in an area where people might get ready to go swimming, and the victim is killed with a single blunt-force head injury by someone who acted impulsively rather than out of actual animosity towards them. there’s an attempt made to frame another student for the murder as well as confusion over whether a famous serial killer might have done it. familial relationships, specifically sibling relationships, factor heavily into the motive. while the protagonist and deuteragonist conducted the bulk of the investigation together in chapter 1, this time it’s mainly the protagonist and tritagonist who do so, with less direct input from the deuteragonist

in chapter 3 of both games the crime that takes place is a premeditated and particularly cold double murder. the motive is something unexpected and difficult for the others to understand or relate to. a major point of confusion during the trial is the sequence of events during the killings, and misleading photo/video evidence is staged by the killer in order to further this confusion

in chapter 4 of both games the characters start to become preoccupied with who the traitor might be. a robot/AI “dies” this chapter. the person to die is the most physically powerful member of the group by far, raising doubts as to who could have killed them; in fact, the “murder” is actually a suicide / suicide pact done to ensure the rest of the group’s survival, and in the aftermath of the trial the survivors feel inspired to work together and try and end the killing game. one member of the main trio, who has had a particular approach to the killing game since the outset, changes strategies during this chapter’s trial and no longer believes the killing game ought to be won. this same character shows off during the investigation/trial by doing something that looks like it should be fatal

now, in chapter 4 of sdr2, the characters learn about the previous killing game and komaeda is quick to point out the parallels. most of what happens in chapter 5 is masterminded by him, so i think we can infer that the parallels between 1-5 and 2-5 are intentional on not just AI!junko’s part (obviously some of the similarities, like similar motives, are things she has direct control over), but on komaeda’s part as well. 

there’s an interesting dynamic that plays out between komaeda and monokuma this chapter. for the sake of brevity (haha! that worked out well) i didn’t get into this in the previous longpost about komaeda, but i do think i have to talk about it here. 

(as i’ve been over repeatedly) monokuma handed komaeda the information about shsl despair clearly intending for him to react by doing something batshit insane. that’s why he’s happy to go along with it when komaeda takes the reins this chapter — i mean, komaeda basically says “you don’t need to give us a motive this chapter, i want to know who the traitor is and if i don’t get a confession i am going to blow up this entire island” and monokuma not only has zero objections, he seems to be in a great mood most of chapter 5. of course, monokuma would have known all along that the “bomb threat” was just a bluff intended to keep everyone else distracted, but i don’t think he realized that he counted as part of Everyone Else here. 

the bomb threat serves to accomplish a few things — it keeps the other survivors preoccupied while komaeda sets up his own murder, and it ensures nobody has an alibi for his murder because they all split up to investigate. however, komaeda’s unhinged villain act in 2-5 isn’t just to convince the others that the bomb threat is real, it’s also to convince monokuma that komaeda has indeed snapped and is now acting with malicious intent towards the others. and it works. during the trial monokuma actually praises komaeda’s plan and makes it very clear that he admires it, but he’s misinterpreted the takeaway — he thinks komaeda’s goal was to show the others True Despair by trapping them in an unwinnable stuation. 

back to the parallels with the previous killing game, i think another big reason why monokuma is all too happy to let komaeda take charge here is because chapter 5 of the last killing game is when junko really started losing control of the situation. after sakura’s suicide in 1-4, the survivors resolved to work together to solve the mystery and end the killing game, leading junko to become increasingly desperate in her attempts to keep the murders going. she tried killing naegi herself, and when that didn’t work she reused her sister’s corpse to set up a fake murder so that she’d have an excuse to execute kirigiri or naegi. i’ve talked about this a bit before but it does feel like AI!junko is playing her side of the game more aggressively this time, particularly starting in 2-4 with the funhouse motive (never before has she imposed a time limit for committing murder). this is, i’m sure, why she chose to give komaeda the info on shsl despair. monokuma doesn’t seem to feel Threatened by komaeda in the same way that he did with naegi and kirigiri (figures, since komaeda has actually been in favor of the killing game and does not announce his intent to stop the killing game / take down the mastermind the way naegi and kirigiri do), but the rest of the group has been relying very heavily on komaeda to solve the mysteries, and it certainly makes the situation more difficult for everyone else if they don’t have komaeda as an “ally” of sorts. last time, it was the survivors working together as a team — in particular, the main trio working together — that ultimately derailed the killing game, and this time monokuma is trying to ensure that Does Not Happen. so it’s no wonder that he’s in such a good mood this chapter, it looks like komaeda is doing exactly what monokuma hoped that he would! 

however, it also appears to be slowly dawning on monokuma throughout the course of this chapter that komaeda has figured out way more than he anticipated about the situation, and that this might be A Problem. at several points beginning during 2-4’s trial and continuing into 2-5, komaeda makes comments hinting that he knows they’re in VR and that he knows the mastermind is planning something much bigger after the killing game ends; he’s vague about it so it’s not clear exactly how much he knows, but it’s enough to get monokuma agitated. during the scene where komaeda confronts monokuma alone at the end of 2-4, monokuma initially seems quite confident and pleased that his plan is working but gets shaken towards the end when komaeda implies he knows what the mastermind is planning to do when the killing game ends, so this is definitely a worry monokuma has before 2-5 even starts, but the rest of komaeda’s actions appear to lull him into a false sense of security. 

one thing komaeda does this chapter feels particularly pointed, though. and yes, pun intended, i’m talking about the impalement. the way junko staged mukuro’s body in 1-5, she was lying flat on her back with a knife in her stomach. komaeda stages his own death so that he’s discovered in a similar position, but rather than stabbing himself in the stomach with a knife, he uses a spear, just as was actually used to kill mukuro. lemme point out again that the spear was a totally unnecessary element of his murder, it was 100% for show as the poison would have killed him anyway. i don’t think AI!junko, observing the setup for this, would have noticed the similarities to the way she staged her sister’s body at first — most of the setup would have involved komaeda tying himself up and stabbing himself and i’m sure that kept her distracted. but when hinata’s investigating komaeda’s body (hehe) monokuma comments on the spear, calling it “the spear of gugnir” without explaining the reference. he seems a bit shaken by this. komaeda going to such lengths to imitate mukuro’s chapter 5 body discovery, including throwing in a reference to her actual cause of death, feels very much like he’s telling junko that he knows who she is — and since they all know the mastermind of the previous killing game is dead, if he knows they’re still dealing with junko, that must mean he also knows it’s VR.

regarding komaeda’s final video message, which monokuma redacts parts of — the mastermind of course would have witnessed komaeda recording this video, and presumably didn’t worry too much about whatever he said at the time because at that point komaeda was already setting up his own murder, and the rest of the group might not even live through the trial to view the video. while ofc i have to take a guess at exactly what was redacted, it sure looks like monokuma removed some references to everyone being former shsl despair and at least one reference (which could very well have been vague, but i think monokuma is generally displeased that komaeda figured this out and would have redacted it anyway) to the killing game happening in VR, but he didn’t redact the instructions on how to enter the ruins. he must still think it’s possible to turn the situation around in his favor, especially with both future foundation agents out of the picture, no more main trio, and only five people left alive. i think this means that junko still doesn’t understand what komaeda was actually trying to do in chapter 5 — like i said before, i think his actual end goal was for the group to survive and make it into the ruins, hence why he left instructions, but none of the characters seem to have realized this. (hinata actually got the closest. there’s a moment during 2-5 trial where he thinks that maybe the only reason komaeda put them in such a despair-inducing situation was to force them to overcome it together with the combined power of their hope, or something.)

there’s other 1-5/2-5 parallels beyond the way the body is discovered this chapter, of course. both trials, it feels like the group is being rushed along and there’s a(n entirely justified) sense that they’re headed towards a trap. both trials also involve a metaphorical trust fall — in 1-5 naegi has to trust kirigiri and allow suspicion to be directed onto himself (the alternative is a bad end), and in 2-5 the entire group has to trust in nanami’s assertion that the only way for them to live is to vote her guilty. in both of these scenarios, also, the person being executed is particularly friendly/kind/optimistic, and they’re set to be executed via crushing. neither of the executions are “real” either in that naegi survives and nanami wasn’t alive to begin with. 

i’m sure i’m gonna keep talking about parallels between the cases in this liveblog, as well as when i end up eventually talking about ultra despair girls and dr3 and ndrv3 on here, but i did want to talk about the way komaeda sets up his murder in particular because imo he 100% did that shit on purpose. anyway that’s the post

[thornedrose44]

Prompt: “I can’t do this. Just leave me alone.”

Read on AO3

"Goodnight, Kara." Lena said from across the room when she finally managed to catch Kara's eye.

It was the first time they had made eye contact since Kara had welcomed her inside at the start of the night. Kara startled at the sudden sight of Lena, waving farewell as she stepped quietly towards the door, but made no move to follow after her and when the door swung quietly shut behind her Lena knew things would never be the same.

It was Kara's birthday party (her Earth birthday party to those that happened to be in the know, which to Lena's un-surprise was a rather considerable group all things considered). Kara had invited her, further proof of the strength of their newly reaffirmed friendship. Lena had been grateful for the invite, appreciating it as the sign that they were back on the right track, and accepted it without hesitation.

She had then proceeded to spend hours upon hours thinking of the perfect gift for Kara, excitement and anticipation building in her stomach.

It would be her first proper night out in months after being thrown back into her role as CEO and dealing with all the negative press following Lex’s downfall and upcoming conviction. Her working hours had reached an excess that she had never achieved before. The blowback onto her in the form of hatred for the Luthors was even greater than last time as well, despite her crucial role in taking Lex down. She was still deemed guilty by association especially since she had been working closely with Lex for a long time before revelations about his villainy became apparent.

The news were critiquing her every move, slandering her every chance they got and rallying the masses to a fervour - she was now facing at least one assassination attempt every week.

Regardless of all that, Lena had one salvation, one light of hope that she clung onto. Her friendship with Kara. It was growing again. They were spending time together. Relearning one another or learning about each for the first time in Lena's case. The conversation was finally less stilted and the trust was back.

But there was still something missing, something stopping them from returning to exactly where they were before.

Lena, as the months ticked by, realised that they were no longer as physically close as they once were. Hugs were rare. Gentle touches of the hands were swiftly snatched back to prevent lingering. Even extended eye contact was fleeting.

Lena at first thought the problem was that she had hurt Kara so badly that the woman who sometimes communicated solely through physical affection no longer wanted to be touched by Lena. That broke something in Lena. That Kara, even though she was trying to be kind, friendly and forgiving to Lena, was not comfortable with any sort of physical contact between them, drove Lena into a drunken stupor of college-level proportions.

Once the alcohol was out of her system and she had suitably recovered from her hangover, Lena had allowed the scientist within her to take over.

No more assumptions.

She would gather evidence, make an hypothesis and work towards a solution.

If she wanted Kara back in her life properly - cuddles on the sofa and lengthy hugs a necessity of that - Lena would put the effort in.

So she observed… and what she observed was this…

Pink cheeks and bashful expressions whenever their gazes met.

A thick swallow and faltering breath whenever their hands brushed.

Deep sighs and fingers digging fleetingly into her back as if on the edge of pulling her closer whenever they embraced.

Dark eyes and teeth biting into a bottom lip whenever Lena stretched or moved her hair away from her neck.

Attraction, affection and interest .

Lena didn’t believe the results of her evidence; she re-ran the tests over and over again trying to work out if she had just interacted with Kara on an odd day, if she just happened to be thinking about something (someone) else at the same time but… it kept happening over and over again.

If it had been anyone else, Lena wouldn’t have doubted what she was seeing but… but.. This was Kara.

Kara, who she had been in love with since she had walked into her office with her cousin.

Kara, who had never picked up on or reacted to her flirts.

Kara, who had broken her heart with lies.

Kara, who meant so much to her.

Kara, who she had only just gotten back.

Was it worth the risk?

Fear had blinded her, of that she had no doubt, but was it keeping her safe from the hurtful truth of Kara not wanting to touch her anymore or from the potential happiness that Kara returned her feelings but was too sweet or shy to put herself in a position that would make Lena uncomfortable.

Lena decided to take a chance - just this once because even if she was wrong about Kara not feeling the same, she had to believe that Kara was incapable of being cruel to her if she misread it. They promised each other honesty and Lena intended to show it.

It was why she needed to buy the perfect present, something that hinted that Kara’s feelings (if Lena was right) were returned. And just a week before the party, she knew exactly what the perfect present would be.

She wrapped it personally (normally Jess would wrap any gifts she had to send out), wanting to go the extra mile. It wasn’t perfectly done, a bit messy in places and the sellotape was excessive but she had done it herself which she knew Kara would appreciate more than professional gift wrapping.

Lena, however, realised that she had made a mistake the second she arrived at Kara's.

Knew she had misread… everything …

Because Kara… Kara couldn't stand to be near her for longer than it took to say hello, accept the present and then disappear off.

Lena hadn’t expected to be with Kara for all of the party; it was Kara's party and loads of her friends were in attendance, all of whom wanted to spend it with Kara. Who wouldn't?

It's just… Lena…

Lena didn't have anyone else.

It was made abundantly clear to Lena within the first thirty seconds that she was not welcome. Alex gave her a gruff nod from across the room before turning her back to her - she still didn't trust her and Lena had prioritised winning Kara back over the last few months above everything else. Brainy and Nia smiled at her but they were deep in conversation with CatCo employees all of whom were practically snarling at Lena (clearly not Luthor fans). James was here as well and dear God did he give her such a blazing look of hatred Lena was surprised she didn't burst into flames under its ferocity. (They hadn’t dated in this rewritten universe, much to Lena’s pleasure, though his original dislike for her was clearly a mainstay of every universe).

So… Lena grabbed a drink and stood in the corner as Kara moved seamlessly between her various groups of friends and colleagues, never once sparing Lena even a glance. The majority of her movements were accompanied by William Dey, who repeatedly tried to sling an arm around Kara's shoulder - the only joy Lena got from the evening was watching Kara repeatedly squirm out from under his touch.

She held out for two hours, sipping three beers and glancing intermittently at her phone as she stayed in her corner, hoping that Kara would come over for just five minutes.

Five minutes with Kara wasn't too much to ask for, was it?

Five mere minutes with Kara would have made the whole night worth it, made the glares and malevolent whispers sent her way worth it.

It was at the two hour mark that Lena accepted the truth.

Kara wasn't going to come over to talk to her.

Kara hadn't been pulling away from her due to a sudden realisation of feelings and attraction.

Kara hadn't expected her to accept the invite. Hadn't wanted her to accept.

Kara was ashamed of her, that was why she pulled away, why she didn't acknowledge her.

Lena couldn't really blame her but that didn't mean she had to stay and take it. So gathering what was left of her dignity, she shuffled towards the door, caught Kara's eye, waved and slipped outside… though, not before retrieving the present she had brought for Kara… it would have revealed far too much and Lena didn't need to deal with that on top of everything else.

Lena returned to her office for no other reason that she still had some good liquor stored there - Kara had encouraged her a couple of months ago to cut back on her drinking and she couldn’t deny the baby blue puppy dog eyes. She staggered into her office, chucking the present she had spent hours creating onto the sofa - she would buy Kara some random meaningless gift like a nice scarf or jumper tomorrow instead - and poured herself a full tumbler before flipping open her laptop and getting to work. She lost herself in designs and business plans as she made her way through the bottle.

She used to sit and brood when she drank but Sam had made her promise she wouldn’t do that anymore, hazel eyes filled with concern at where Lena’s mind wandered when unoccupied and fuelled by alcohol. Whilst Lena was in a pretty bleak space, she refused to hurt her last (and only) friend by breaking the one promise she had made to her.

It must have been two am when Lena heard a familiar thud from the balcony followed by a gentle knock that could only belong to one person.

“Kara, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Lena called out, not bothering to lift her gaze away from her laptop screen - she wasn't sure whether the sight of Kara would evoke tears or fury and she wished to give Kara neither.

“Hey… I just wanted… I was…" Kara stammered out; Lena didn't need to see her to know that she was fidgeting with the edge of her cape as she tiptoed nervously closer. "You know… flying around and saw the light on and figured I would check in on you, see how you were doing…”

“I’m fine. Just working.” Lena replied brusquely taking a sip of her whiskey.

“And drinking…” Kara muttered, her tone more worried than disapproving but Lena took offense regardless.

“Yes. It’s a Saturday night, cut me some slack.” Lena snapped back, defiantly swallowing what was left in her glass before slamming it down onto her desk.

The loud clack as it connected with the surface was followed by a heavy, almost suffocating silence.

“You left early.” Kara whispered into the unnatural stillness, shattering the fraudulent focus Lena had on her computer screen with those three words. Kara didn't sound confused or upset, just painfully neutral as if to emotionally step back from the situation so that she could garner some emotional truth from the CEO instead.

Well, Lena was done with that, done with giving more of herself than Kara wanted so she took a deep, calming breath and allowed her painstakingly crafted mask to slip into place.

“I wasn’t the first to leave.” Lena pointed out calmly, finally turning to look at Kara, certain she could keep her voice and face blank. It was then that she saw how… small Kara looked, which was never a word Lena would have used to describe Kara in full Supergirl regalia in the entire time she had known her. Kara looked defeated and lost, a tremble to her lip and very being that she tried to hide behind a shy smile.

“Well… I didn’t get a chance to talk to you…” Kara replied, ducking her head meekly as she admitted. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Lena pursed her lips at that, “I was there for over two hours, Kara. You could have come over whenever you wanted. It wasn’t like I was occupied.”

“Yeah… what was that about?” Kara laughed, rubbing the back of her neck, trying far too hard to make her tone light as if even the idea of Lena being without company was an entirely absurd concept.

The high-pitch to Kara's laugh and the unfamiliar tension around her eyes revealed to Lena that Kara knew exactly why Lena had been standing all alone that evening.

“I’m a Luthor, Kara." Lena replied sharply, not interested in trying to smooth over the harsh truths like Kara was always so keen to do when it suited her. "No one wanted me there and they all made that very clear.”

“I wanted you there.” Kara replied so soft and earnest that Lena nearly believed her.

“I highly doubt that.” Lena scoffed derisively.

“I did.” Kara insisted, eyes desperate and pleading.

Lena merely shook her head, turning back to face her computer, “If you say so…”

“Lena, I-”

“Kara… I can’t…” Lena muttered, her voice cracking in the exact way she didn’t want it to. “I can’t do this. Just leave me alone.” Lena requested, hating how it verged on begging.

“What?” Kara murmured in shock.

“I can’t just… pretend that I’m not hurt or upset.” Lena confessed, fingers curling into fists on her desk, eyes slamming shut to lock in the tears. “I just need… time to get over it and accept what we are. So until then… please just leave me alone.”

“I hurt you.” Kara repeated, her voice broken and raw .

“Kara, I didn’t…” Lena shook her head angrily, she didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to inflict herself on Kara who had tried so hard to be her friend. “It's your birthday, Kara.” Lena sighed sadly, “You get to spend it anyway you like with whomever you like.”

“I wanted to spend it with you.” Kara breathed, and Lena could hear the sharp inhales between each word that revealed that Kara was crying.

“Kara, you don’t need to…” Lena assured, with a wave of her hand, eyes focused on her lap, “let’s just leave it, okay?”

“No…” Kara gasped, and suddenly Lena felt a trembling hand connect with her own tightly curled fists, “wait… what did you mean ‘get over it’ and ‘accept what we are’?”

Lena sucked in a sharp breath at the question, biting down harshly on her bottom lip.

“Lena?” Kara pressed.

“Fuck it, fine.” Lena snapped, yanking her hands away from Kara’s infinitely soft touch and shoving herself out of her chair before storming away from Kara, desperate for space. “I thought you liked me.”

“I do-” Kara began, taking a tentative step after her.

“No, Kara.” Lena yelled, spinning back to face Kara, with a twisted snarl of total self-loathing. “Liked me.” Lena stressed, before throwing her hands up into the air as it all just boiled out of her, “God, I sound like a teenager. I thought you liked me. I thought you were touching me less because you were attracted to me. But then… I go to your party and you don’t… it was like you were ashamed of me, I sat in that fucking corner for two hours as everyone wished - out loud, I should say - that I would go. I sat in that fucking corner in the hope that you would speak to me for five minutes. For just five minutes. Because that… that would have made it all worth it. But you could barely look at me. And I realised you didn’t - don’t - like me… you’re ashamed of me, but you’re too kind to abandon me. Too noble and generous but even you have your limits. Of course, you didn’t want to spend your birthday talking to me. Of course you didn’t.”

Lena wanted to punch a wall, wanted to down the rest of her whiskey, wanted to do literally anything than be here in this moment watching the horror-struck expression on Kara’s face grow and grow with every word, watch Kara’s body tremble and shake with each harsh sweeping gesture.

“Lena, no… you…” Kara sobbed, striding towards her with fingers twitching at her sides, “you have got the complete wrong end of the stick. Actually, you’re right but also really wrong. And…” Kara swiped aggressively at the tears rolling down her cheeks as she approached Lena, stopping when the raven-haired woman flinched at their sudden closeness. “I screwed up but-”

“No. You don’t need to do this.” Lena cut in, holding a hand up to stop Kara, wanting Kara to know that her guilt was unnecessary and that she could finally be free of Lena.

“Lena, I’m so-”

“You don’t need to apologise.” Lena insisted, taking a deep breath to rein back in her swirl of her emotions. She could do this. She could let Kara go. “You were trying to be kind but you shouldn’t… god, if I make you that miserable, that uncomfortable, you shouldn’t have to force yourself to interact with me.”

“LENA!” Kara bellowed, stamping her foot to the ground and lifting her chin to reveal a determined expression.

Lena blinked in shock at the sudden volume and intensity; falling obediently quiet.

Kara placed her hands on her hips, took a deep breath, looked Lena straight in the eye with earnest, beseeching blue and declared, “I want to kiss you right now because that would be the big sweeping action that would prove to you that I mean what I’m about to say next but… you’ve been drinking… heavily from the looks of things.” Kara shot a displeased pout at the nearly empty bottle of whiskey as if it was all the bottle’s fault for Lena’s current state of inebriation and not the youngest Luthor’s unhealthy coping mechanisms. Kara turned back to face a stunned Lena, with a fond smile, “And I really want our first kiss to be one you remember and one you can fully consent to. So, you’re just going to have to believe me… please, please believe me when I say… I’m in love with you and I fucked up massively tonight. Really, really fucked up.”

“You never swear.” Lena murmured quietly, and it probably wasn’t what she should have been focusing on but her brain was currently stuck like a record scratch unable to fully comprehend what Kara had just told her; and the swear was just the cherry on top of an entire sundae of confusing and out-of-the-blue revelations.

“Which shows how much I believe that I fucked up.” Kara replied with a helpless shrug.

“But-”

“You were the only person I wanted to spend my birthday with.” Kara confessed, “Well, Alex at some point as well. But you mostly. Alex planned the party and I couldn’t…” Kara huffed out a frustrated breath and rolled her eyes, “she did this whole thing and I didn’t want to turn around and say I didn’t want it. That all I really wanted was a quiet night watching films with you because…” Kara sighed, “because then she’d know… To make it more bearable I invited you but there were so many other people, and I will be honest… I don’t even like half of them. Alex, just invited everyone I was friends on facebook with which is not a good barometer of friendship.”

Lena cleared her throat, none of it making sense, “Then why-”

“Did I ignore you?” Kara guessed with a painful wince.

“Yeah…” Lena muttered, wrapping her arms protectively around herself.

“Because… because I knew, or at least I thought I knew, that you hadn’t noticed how I felt about you.” Kara explained inching just that little bit closer towards Lena, attempting to bring them within touching distance of one another. “And I knew it was only a miracle that you hadn’t until now because…” Kara smiled a lopsided, rueful and self-deprecating smile, “Lena, I am not subtle. Not at all. And I knew… I knew if I interacted with you at the party… everyone else would be able to tell in an instant how I felt.”

Lena exhaled slow and deep, arms tightening their hold around herself, “And you didn’t want them knowing you liked me?”

“Love. Not like.” Kara corrected, patient yet firm, “Love. And no, I didn’t.”

Lena nodded once in understanding, letting out a hollow laugh, “I get it. I wouldn’t want anyone to know I loved me either.”

“Lena… no… no… you…” Kara rushed to explain, finally stepping close enough to reach out and place her hands gently on Lena’s curled biceps. Lena couldn’t help how she instinctively shifted closer, wanting to increase contact with Kara after being denied it for so long. “I didn’t want anyone knowing before you.” Kara admitted.

And that… that snapped something back into place for Lena.

Made the doubts screaming inside her head quieten down just enough to think… maybe…

Because… it was being last that had broken them the first time. Being the only one not to know and now…

“I didn’t want Stacy, who used to cheat off me in exams in college to know how I felt about you before you did.” Kara said, thumbs moving back and forth against the bare skin of Lena’s arms causing a swathe of goosebumps to rise like a wave in the wake of Kara’s every touch. “They didn’t deserve that. They didn’t deserve…” Kara’s jaw clenched, eyes darkening as she studied Lena’s face, “I was trying to protect you from them. They said horrible things about you and you should know, the minute after you left, I kicked everyone who so much as looked at you funny out. It was just me, Nia, Brainy and Kelly left… Alex, as well, but we had a rather heated argument before she was allowed to stay.” Kara bowed her head in shame, “I should have kicked them all out immediately but-”

“Then they would have known.” Lena finished for her.

“I had this whole thing planned.” Kara breathed out, her hands gradually shifting away from Lena’s arms around to her back, surrounding Lena in a loose hold, Kara’s eyes flickering over Lena’s face and body rapidly searching for even the slightest sign that Lena was uncomfortable with their contact. “Once everyone left, I had set-up the roof with lights and cushions and… I was going to tell you how I felt. I just had to make it through the birthday party from hell and I was trying so hard to keep to the plan. To not spoil it. To keep it a secret so that it could just be ours but... I…” Kara’s eyes slid shut and she inhaled a shuddering breath filled with pain. “I hurt you. And there is nothing I can say to make you forgive me, but I do… I do love you so much. And I will never, ever be ashamed of you.” Kara blinked her eyes back open and leaned forward to place a kiss on Lena’s forehead. “I just wanted it to be ours and not theirs. I didn’t want to share. You’re the only thing in my life that… I didn’t want to share.”

“Open your present.” Lena demanded, stepping out of Kara’s loving embrace.

“Lena-” Kara whimpered, pained at the sudden loss of closeness.

“Open your present, Kara.” Lena repeated, jerking her chin towards the sofa where the roughly wrapped present lay.

“I… okay…” Kara replied, watching Lena closely as she tried to make sense of Lena’s clear request. Kara walked cautiously over to the couch, picking up the gift with gentle hands. “Did you wrap it yourself?” Kara asked, her entire expression brightening as she stared down at the crooked, over sellotaped wrapping.

Lena harrumphed at the question, pursing her lips.

“You did, didn’t you?” Kara teased.

“The present isn’t the piss poor wrapping.” Lena replied with an exaggerated roll of her eyes that had the corners of Kara’s lips quirking even further upwards.

“Lena Luthor wrapped my present herself…", Kara whistled in awe, blue eyes twinkling with true delight for the first time that day, "what better gift is there?”

“Open it and you might find one.” Lena said, heart leaping into her throat as Kara’s deft fingers found a line of wrapping paper she could tuck them under.

The sound of paper ripping was deafening in the stillness; all Lena could do was watch and wait.

The paper fell away leaving behind a small black box, Kara shot Lena a hesitant look and it wasn’t until Lena nodded for her to continue that Kara clicked it open.

There was a pause.

A heavy, endless pause in which Lena couldn’t bring herself to even breathe.

“What is-” Kara began before cutting off immediately as she lifted up the beautiful bracelet made of nth metal and inscribed with ‘stronger together’ in Lena’s own cursive handwriting in both english and kryptonian.

The bracelet shined under the lights in Lena’s office, but in Lena’s opinion, Kara’s eyes shined impossibly brighter.  

“You’re in love with me.” Kara whispered, seeing the present for everything Lena had hoped it would convey.

“Yes.” Lena confirmed because there was no hiding it now.

With trembling fingers Kara clasped the bracelet onto her wrist, long fingers tracing the words delicately inscribed with no small amount of wonder. Finally, she turned around and stared at Lena with so much sheer love that the youngest Luthor felt overwhelmed and like her heart might burst right out of her chest in its desire to be in Kara’s possession

Clearing her throat and clasping her hands behind her back, Lena gathered her courage and asked, “If I promise you I’ll remember it and that I am fully consenting… will you kiss me now?”

Kara was in front of her in the literal blink of the eye, hands reaching out to cup Lena’s cheeks as Lena’s hands moved to rest on Kara’s hips gently encouraging their bodies closer with a light tug.

“There is nothing I want more.” Kara assured with the widest grin that Lena had ever seen and couldn’t help but return.

Their first kiss could barely count as a kiss.

Their smiles were too wide to allow for it, but Lena wouldn’t change it even slightly. They pressed their smiles against one another, teeth knocking together and noses brushing.

It may not have been a successful kiss but it was tender and filled with so much joy that Lena wouldn’t describe it as anything less than perfect.  

Their second kiss was an actual kiss, lips slotting together, tongues seeking each other out and teeth tugging whimpers and moans from one another in an endless cycle.

Their second kiss turned into a third, a fourth, a fifth.

They kissed until the sun rose.

Kissed until their lips ached and any remaining doubts Lena may have had were pushed back into the shadows by the light of Kara’s smile and blue eyes.

[solarwonux]

Crop Tops and Tattoos || Wonwoo

soccer player!Wonwoo x f!reader

w.c: 3.2k

warnings: smut, shower sex, wonwoo soft!dom, oral sex (female receiving), friends with benefits, friends to lovers, public sex (kinda) I think that’s all. 

note: another repost I’m sorry lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, honestly I literally have like a bunch of works that literally take place in the same soccer!svt/college!svt universe but really have nothing to do with one another except for like 3 and they’re all spicy lol. Let me know if you’d want them and also enjoy this one and lmk your thoughts hehehe :)

masterlist

“W-What?”

“Come to my practice tonight.” You rubbed the sleep from your afternoon nap out of your eyes, listening to Wonwoo’s soft voice through the receiver. “I miss you, come to my practice tonight, we can hang out after.” Wonwoo all but begged, and you can almost picture the pout that was on his face.

“Woo, I can’t I have to finish my half of the group research project.”

“Perfect, I’ll help you. You’re my partner anyway. Please love, I just want to see you it’s been forever.”

“It’s been two days Woo.” You rolled your eyes sitting up on your couch, retreating your phone from your ear, checking the time, 7:30PM it read. So much for a thirty-minute nap, you sighed.

“Precisely why you should come to my practice…hold on a sec,” Wonwoo pulled the phone away from his ear and gave the lost student instructions to where the art history section of the library was located at. “Please, it will be worth it, I promise.” He whispered, cupping his mouth over the receiver, muffling his words a little making you laugh.

“I’ll think about it, get back to work.”

“Okay see you tonight.” He said a little too excited and hung up the phone, a wide smile appearing on your face, making your stomach perform a whole gymnastics routine in the process.

The relationship you and Wonwoo had was interesting, it had started off as mindlessly flirty with one another, graduated to ghost touches and during a hot summer’s day. Where the air conditioning in the library had leaked and instead of Joshua calling everyone to tell them to stay home, he had made sure everyone showed up. Or else. His exact words.

The touches and flirting had escalated to the point that Wonwoo had dragged you to the forgotten encyclopedia section of the library and pinned you against the dusty bookshelves.

Since then your relationship grew more to just sleeping with one another to let off some steam. He would hold your hand underneath the reception desk at the library, mindlessly drawing patterns and phrases onto your skin. He would walk you to class when he could, sometimes with a bubble tea in his hand, other times empty handed. If you were scheduled to close on days, he had an earlier shift, he would wait and walk you home holding you close while the two of you talked about your day. And as of recently, after sex he had started to spend the night, claiming he slept better with you by his side.

In your head Wonwoo was your boyfriend just without the label. It was also a conversation the two of you needed to have, but it was also one you feared because you didn’t want it to ruin it.

You ran through the gates of the soccer field and started up the steps of the aluminum bleachers, earning weird stares from the guys and girls that decided to attend SVT’s first soccer practice of the season. You sat down, out of breath, holding your bag close to your body as you tried your best to regulating your breathing. A reminder that maybe hitting the gym every once in a while, wasn’t such a bad idea, because clearly having mind blowing sex with Wonwoo wasn’t helping with building your stamina.

“Woo your girl’s here now you can finally start playing.”

“Get your head out of your ass Jun.” Wonwoo scoffed shoving Jun lightly, earning a laugh from the other boy. Wonwoo gazed over at you a knowing smile evident on his face and waved at you. You felt your cheeks heat up and your eyes grew wide as you took in his appearance.

Wonwoo had sworn to you that he would never wear his old jersey again, especially since Seungcheol and Jeonghan had deviously cut it up after their last game last season. Yet, here he was in all his glory. The shirt stopping just above his belly button, the sliver of his toned stomach peeking through and you felt the beat of your heart start to raise. You warily waved back, before placing your cold palm against your forehead trying to cool yourself down.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, lifting his hand up and threaded it through his dark locks. His shirt riding up, exposing himself more and you felt the air leave your lungs. It was stupid, you have been seeing him in a lot less clothing for months and in every angle. But for some reason now as he stood boring his soft eyes into yours as Jihoon shouted commands to his teammates. The sweat dripping down the sides of his face, his glasses fogged up slightly due to the humidity and a knowing smirk adorning his face, teasing you. And you felt like you were about to burst.

“Hey, Woo, stop ogling at your girlfriend and get into position.”

“I like your shirt.”

“Hmm, yeah?” A devilish snicker fell from his lips as he pushed up against the cool tile wall. You nodded dragging your nails across the sliver of teasing skin, leaving red marks behind in their wake making Wonwoo shudder. “So sexy.” He groaned lowly pressing his lips onto yours forcefully, his hands snaking around your waist down to your ass giving it a squeeze making you gasp. He pulled away from your lips and trailed them down your neck. He swiped his tongue over your sweet spot earning him a whimper from you.

“You gonna let me fuck you in the locker room showers?”

“If you ask nicely.” You breathed out playing with the elastic waist band of his shorts. Wonwoo laughed against your neck and bit down before pulling away. “Can I fuck you in the locker room showers please?” He pouted playfully, grabbing your thigh and wrapping it around his waist.

“God Woo, yes.” You wrapped your arms around his waist pulling him closer to you feeling his growing cock against your aroused pussy. “As you wish darling.” He mumbled pecking your lips repeatedly before pulling away from your body, making you whine at the loss of his body heat.

Wonwoo chuckled sinking down to his knees, your eyes hooded with pleasure, feeling the wetness between your legs grow. He left teasing kisses down your clothed thighs, his thumbs hooking underneath the waist band of your leggings dragging them along with him. “Woo my shoes.”

“I was getting there, you’re so impatient sometimes.” He mumbled sitting back on his knees tapping your calf silently telling you to raise your leg. “It’s your fault…how am I supposed to be patient when you always look so good.” You obliged watching as he slowly took of your shoe and throwing it outside of the shower stall along with your sock. He repeated the process with your other leg before attaching his lips against your clothed thigh and left gentle open-mouthed kisses up your leg.

“I guess it’s time I teach you how to be patient.” He smirked pulling down your leggings along with your panties in one go. He threw them aside, placing a kiss against your hip bone, where the small stick and poke infinity sign tattoo he had made after a long night of immoral rendezvous. “Still can’t believe you let me talk you into giving you this.” He mumbled giving it another kiss and stood up.

“I wanted a tattoo but didn’t want to experience the pain.”

“It still hurt you, I had to stop, that’s why it’s all crooked and unfinished.”

“But it’s my favorite.” You whispered, his dark lust filled eyes boring into yours as he slowly started to take off his shorts and underwear, exposing himself to you. No matter how many times the two of you slept together, the sight of his body always had your heart beating out of time. He was perfect, an Adonis carved out of marble and to your surprise he was all yours.

“Don’t take off your shirt.” You whispered reaching and grabbing a fistful of the cloth and pulling him to you. “I want you to fuck me with it on.” You eyed him, a teasing finger running down his chest. “You’re so naughty today.” He laughed grabbing your hand and moved it up to his lips kissing each of your knuckles his sensual gaze lingering on yours. You felt your breathing pick up, the heat trailing down your thighs. “Please touch me.” You whimpered pulling your hand away and taking your shirt of throwing it behind him.

“Not yet I need to shower, I’m all sweaty from practice.” He winked, his hand finding the shower handle and turning it. A gasp left your lips as you felt the cold start to coat your heated bodies. “Now behave princess.” He kissed you hard, running his tongue over your bottom lip asking for entrance in which you granted. His hips flirting with yours and all you wanted to do was get down on your knees and beg him to use you in any and every single way possible. He pulled away detaching the shower head sending you a wink before putting it against your clit. The harsh water jets sending a sweet wave of pleasure up your spine.

“You’re going to cum like this and then I’ll fuck you.” He mumbled, before sinking down on to his knees again. He kept the shower head in place and alternated in kissing your thighs. Desperate whimpers falling out of your mouth. Wonwoo hooked one of your legs on top of his shoulder and bit down on your thigh, sucking making you yelp. “Your body reacts so well to me.” He kissed up your thigh sucking another love bite next to your tattoo before pulling away, shifting the shower head slightly. The sensation sending a new wave of pleasure up your body making you moan.

“W-Wonwoo, mmm, please.”

“Please what?” He teased the sound of a smirk evident in his voice and you’ve never wanted to hit someone so badly before. “I-I need you please.” You cried out, the tip of his index finger teasing the entrance of your pussy. “Yeah…you need me baby?” He chuckled moving your arousal around coating his finger with it before pulling away and bringing it up to his mouth, moaning sinfully as he licked it clean

“Y-Yes need your fingers, or mouth anything p-please W-Woo.” You raised your hips trying to grind yourself against the water, searching for a release in every way you could. “I’ll give you what you want but you can’t touch me.” He tsked giving you a pointed look. You whined nodding your head grabbing onto the smoothness of the shower wall. He ran his hot tongue against the lips of your pussy, the sensation mixing with the coldness of the water sent shivers up your spine.

“You always taste so sweet.” He mumbled against you flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit. Your mouth hanging open as your fingers itched to touch him and push him against you even further. “L-Let me touch you?” You breathed out your nails digging themselves into the skin of your stomach. He nodded against you repeatedly licking strides up your lips before attaching his mouth on your clit. By now the shower head was long forgotten as it fell from his hand, hitting the shower wall with a loud clank making you jump.

You threaded your fingers in his short hair tugging at the roots making him moan against you. He wrapped his arms around your ass pulling you closer as he lost himself eating you out like a starved man. “B-Baby I’m close.” You moaned arching your back against the wall as he lightly bit down on your clit and pulled away. He licked his lips savoring you and adjusted his round glasses earning a lighthearted laugh from you. “Don’t laugh or I won’t help you cum.” He grumbled pressing his index and middle fingers against your entrance and slowly sinking them into you immediately curling them up in search for your g-spot. A satisfied smile etching across his face as you moaned out the second he found it.

Wonwoo attached his lips onto your clit again, this time wasting no time and sucking on it roughly, his fingers moving inside you at a fast pace. The coil forming at the pit of your stomach, your hands tugging on his hair, your hips bucking against his mouth and fingers. He moaned feeling your clench around his fingers, giving him the motivation to pick of his pace, the pleasure getting too much for your body to handle and before you knew you came undone screaming out his name. He helped you ride out your orgasm, desperately licking up your release making your body twitch from the oversensitivity.

“You did so well baby.” He mumbled before pulling away, licking his lips moaning in approval as the remnants of your arousal hit his taste buds. He thrusted his fingers a few more times before pulling them out making you whine, missing the way they felt inside of you. He chuckled licking them clean before standing up.

“Think you can give me one more?” He asked giving your lips multiple pecks and then your cheeks. You laughed pushing his face away resting your tired body against the wall of the shower.

“Yes.”

“Can I ask you something?” You crossed your arms in front of you holding up the towel Wonwoo had wrapped around your body. Wonwoo hummed handing you his extra t-shirt as well as the sweatpants you had left at his place weeks ago. How he knew to bring them along with him was beyond you, but you decided to save that question for another day.

“Why do the guys call me your girl.” You emphasized standing up from the bench and started getting dressed. Wonwoo closed his locker resting his back against it drinking you in slowly, making you feel a little insecure. “Jeonghan saw you leave my apartment one day and texted the group chat to share the tea.” He rolled his eyes using quotations around the last word of his sentence before pushing himself away from the locker. “Now the guys think we’re dating.”

“But you never corrected them?” You tugged his shirt over your head gathering your semi dry clothes and folded them. “Do you want me to correct them?” He placed his hand on your cheek moving your head gently to meet his eyes.

“I-I mean yeah, we aren’t dating you made it very clear that you weren’t looking for a relationship when this started.”

“I wish I could eat my words.” He whispered running his thumb over your swollen lips. “I think I’m past just wanting to fuck you; I want more.”

You felt the air leave your lungs; your cheeks heated up and you desperately searched for a new point of focus because the intensity evident in his gaze was overwhelming. “We should go, I need to finish my half of the project.” You picked up your drying clothes and your bag and rounded the corner of the bench you had been sitting at.

“You don’t want to be more?” Wonwoo caught up with you grabbing your free hand to stop you from walking and held it close to his chest. “I do, I’m just scared you’ll end up regretting it if we ever do try to be more.” You confessed trailing your eyes down his body and stopping at your interlocked hands.

“I won’t, you make me feel so good an—”

“Exactly, I make you feel good. All you’ve ever known is how it feels like to be with me naked. You don’t know what it’s like to actually be with me.” You pulled your hand away. A frustrated sigh spiraling out of his lungs as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Your worst habit is jumping to conclusions.” He mumbled lowly tugging at the roots of his hair. It didn’t feel nearly as good as it felt when you would do it to him, but that was something he would ever confess out loud. “I want to be with you in every way possible, I know what I said before and if I would take back my words I would because that was before I found myself falling for you.” Wonwoo closed the gap between the two of you holding you tightly. His confession had your mind running nonstop, the weight of his words making their way into your heart and finding a home. You hugged him tightly, burying your face into his chest. “Is that a yes?” Wonwoo asked confusion laced in his voice as he hugged you back running his hands down your back soothingly. You hummed nodding your head taking a whiff of his lavender body wash and somehow it felt like home.

“You can’t just say things like that so casually.” You groaned raising your head from his chest placing a kiss on his chin. “Give me a warning next time.”

“Would you have preferred reading the essay I wrote about it instead.”

“Wonwoo stop fucking around you didn’t do that.” You scoffed pushing away from him and started down the hallway to entrance of the locker room. “Yes, I did it’s fifteen pages long, I even used citations.” He yelled following you a few steps behind, the teasing tone in his voice made you doubt his word. But he did once write a whole essay on how Soonyoung was the worst co-captain in the history of co-captains because he had beat him in Mario Kart.

“You have two options I can read it for you tonight after you’re done with your half of the project or I can read it for you on your wedding day.” You choked on your saliva making him laugh. He patted your back gently before pushing open the door to the locker room.

“What the fuck Woo, our weddi—”

“Finally, we’ve been waiting out here for hours. I’m starving.” Hoshi exclaimed throwing his hands up in the air before starting down hallway. “I told you guys to leave.” Wonwoo sighed rolling his eyes and extended his hand for you to take.

“Half of us did once they heard you guys fucking.” Vernon shrugged shoving his hands in his pockets. Your cheeks started to heat up, you prayed to every god out there to do you a solid and open the ground up and have it swallow you whole. “And you guys didn’t?”

“Nah, you’re paying for dinner remember, plus we made a bet while we waited.” Vernon took two long strides over and placed his hand on top of Wonwoo’s shoulder. “I never expected you to have a daddy kink and now I lost fifty bucks to Jeonghan and Dino each, that’s a hundred in total.” He shook his head and walked away running to catch up with Hoshi.

“I don’t have a dad—”

“You know bathrooms have echoes right?” Dino pushed himself way from the wall and started walking away. “We heard the two of you loud and clear, so you can’t deny it, Jeonghan even took a voice note just in case you wanted to deny it.”

“Baby you’re going to have to visit me in jail cause I’m about to commit homicide.” Wonwoo placed a chaste kiss against your head and let go of your hand and charged over to Dino. He turned around laughing before running down the hallway leaving you behind with a smirking Jeonghan.

“Honestly, I just hope you guys disinfected the stall the two of you used.”

[ouyangzizhensdad]

Do you think that making Chinese food is cultural appropriation? I'm white and started making some of the foods I saw in the shows I've watched since the untamed, but now I'm worried I'm appropriating the culture.

Hi anon,

As a fellow white person, I am also someone who needs to critically reflect on how I engage with different cultures. I can't give you the definitive answer you seek, the clear absolution from any potential wrongdoings; in its stead, I can only offer to share my current thought process on this topic. I’d still encourage you to seek other perspectives, and many people have written or spoken on this topic.

I believe we must first acknowledge that, on the terrain of the internet, discussions regarding cultural appropriation have reached a certain... extreme where some people view all forms of cultural exchanges as inherently suspect. They purport that so long as you stay within the bounds of ‘your’ culture, you will problematic behaviours. That perspective is inherent flawed. That is, it relies on a vision of culture as ‘bounded entities’ that exist in themselves. In reality, the ‘stuff’ that makes culture is emergent, existing only relationally, dialectically--it is a not a ‘thing’ that moves through time but an idea which is constantly negotiated and reproduced in relation to power and changing material realities to remain relevant and intelligible. The boundaries of cultural and ethnic groups are fuzzy, overlapping, and constantly being reworked and made meaningful. As an illustration, many of the food I grew up eating was influenced by ingredients and recipes immigrants brought in the 19th and 20th centuries, yet these dishes were understood as 'typically ours’. And it needs to be acknowledged that most of what is currently considered ‘white people food’ relies on ingredients that were introduced to our diet through colonialism and the violent dispossession of indigenous peoples (and, often, the current day exploitation of workers in the South and of migrant workers). No food can be truly ‘traditionally ours’, whatever the purported ‘we’ ends up being brought into the equation, and no eating behaviours can avoid the historical legacy and continuity of violence and power.

Of course, as people who exist in the world, we know that there are cultural differences. Bakhtin’s insights on language through the tensions between centripedal (ie towards uniformity, a common meaning) and centrifugal (toward diversity and change) forces can be expanded to help us conceptualise how we make sense of the way a ‘culture’ is perpetuated through time as something meaningful in our daily lives. Uniformity allows intelligibility, sense-making, but diversity and change are inescapable by-products of individuals and groups repeatedly going through life, meeting and trying to create intelligibility and sense together in a world that cannot stay the same. It is at the intersection of these two conflicting forces that something can be different yet considered the same--that we can create continuity out of change. But something perhaps less emphasized in Bakhtin’s discussions is how much power and material realities work on these forces. Power influences both centripedal and centrifugal forces, if only in orchestrating circumstances that shape how one encounters ‘different cultures’ or reproduces their 'own' culture.

We live at a moment where the world seems to have reached an apex of connectivity--where goods, people, ideas (and viruses) move across distance and borders at speeds that defy comprehension. Yet the way goods, people and ideas move (through which canals and systems? in which direction? to the benefits of whom? at the expense of whom? to what reception or use? in the service of which institutions and ideologies?) or are, inversely, incapable or unwilling to move, is influenced by power and material realities. It is inescapable.

In a roundabout way, what I’m trying to say is that it's useless to try to live life in 'your lane' by turning to a baseline 'culture' because we simply do not have a baseline culture to return to that is 'safe' from the influences of other cultures or the taint of the historical legacy and continuity of violence. So how do I personally reconcile that with how I engage with content that is produced from different cultural contexts, and how I engage with cooking food that is influenced by different cultural contexts? For me the guidelines I take into consideration are respect, attribution and avoiding forms of dehumanisation. These emerged out of witnessing how other white people have acted as well as critically reflecting on how I have acted in the past, and trying to do better (including of course, by listening to different perspectives on the topic). [just in case, warning for examples of racism/micro-agressions] I've been in China with white people who would praise the cooking we were eating in the same breath they were making jokes about dog meat. I've witnessed in Japan a dude decide not to come to an izakaya with Japanese colleagues, fucking off on his own to Akihabara instead, because he was disappointed he couldn’t talk about anime with them--too obsessed with the idealised version of Japan he’d created in his head to treat the Japanese people he met as people. The internet is full of white people telling you how to cook food from places they've never been and taking credit for 'popularising' that dish or 'making it better'. That's not even talking about the tendency for food to become a mark of a cosmopolitan, metropolitan identity in the West--the open-minded, the liberal, the traveler, the hip white person up with the times and beyond the mainstream. Hell, I've even seen people who act as if eating ‘ethnic’ food prepared by immigrants is the singular proof that they were people who cared about immigrants' well-being.

Food is rarely just about food, even when consumed at home. At the same time, we’d be remiss in all these discussions of power to dismiss how food is also one of oldest things we, as humans, want to share with others--including strangers. Feeding is nourishing and giving, eating is accepting into ourselves something made by others. Most people appreciate it when the value of a dish that holds importance for them is recognised by others--although, of course, many might understandably also resent that they have been discriminated against or mocked for eating that same food. Every time I’ve been invited in an immigrant household or at events with mostly immigrants, I’ve felt this sense of almost trepidation emanating from them, waiting for my reaction, and satisfaction once I was seen eating and appreciating the food they had served me--as if the acceptance of the food that was tied to their identity was a form of acceptance of who they were. Of course this can’t be disentangled from past experiences where other people might have been disrespectful, dismissive or outright racist: but the excitement they had in sharing food that had meaning to them and seeing others appreciate it was genuine.

Beyond situations of clear cultural sharing, where we get closer to what appears to be ‘cultural appropriation’, I believe that we cannot act as if there is something inherently sacrilegious in the idea of adapting recipes or using a specific ingredients in new ways--that’s centrifugal forces at play, and they have provided us with many dishes we love today: from immigrant creations like butter chicken to things like spicy kimchi. We cannot work with the assumption that people will only react with hostility at the idea of other people cooking the food they grew with, even in ways that are different from how they’re traditionally used and are thus “not authentic”. I still remember an interaction I had in a Korean grocery store, once upon a time when I lived in a metropolitan city. A man in front of me at the cash register who had been buying snacks and chatting with the employee in Korean looked at my stuff and suddenly asked me if I knew the name of the leafy green I was buying. I wasn’t necessarily surprised because I had overheard in the past customers and employees commenting in Korean about being surprised about the ingredients I, a white person, was purchasing, thinking I couldn’t understand them. I confirmed to him that I knew I was buying mustard greens. He then asked me what I was planning to do with them, and I explained that while I didn’t think it’s a traditional or common way of using it, I personally liked to add them to kimchi jjigae because it compliments their bitter/strong taste and I like leafy greens in my soups and stews. He said it was interesting, and that he was kind of impressed. The employee chimed to tell me I should be honoured at the compliment because the man was actually a chef who owned famous Korean fusion restaurants in the city. That was clearly someone who took Korean food very seriously and clearly had a certain degree of suspicion regarding how white people interacted with it, but he was also curious and interested in seeing how I approached ingredients without having grown up eating them.

Another point of contention is also that we cannot ignore that food is a sensual experience and that, while tastes are greatly influenced by our environment, they are not solely so. I grew up hating most of the food my parents would serve me, and started cooking in my early teens to avoid having to eat it. Before I started cooking, I would often just eat rice with (in hindsight horrible) western-brand soy sauce instead of the meal my mom had made. When I ate Indian food for the first time during a trip at the ripe age of 16, it blew my mind that food could taste like this. Of course I never wanted to look back, and with each years I discovered that a lot of Asian cuisines fit my palate better than what I grew up eating or other cuisines I had tried. When I was a teenager we visited my mom’s friend in France and I hated what she served us so much I’d simply choose to nibble on bread, prompting her to try to stage an intervention for my ‘obvious’ anorexia. Yet, being in China made me realise ingredients I thought I hated had just been cooked in ways I disliked. Do my taste buds absolve me from any need to think critically about how I interact with food? Of course not. But sometimes the reason we want to cook certain recipes and foods is just that it tastes great to us, and we want to reproduce the recipes we enjoyed with the ingredients and the skills we have. Or, really, sometimes we just want to try new tastes because we do a lot of eating throughout our lives, and it seems a waste to limit ourselves to a narrow number of dishes for decades to come.

So that’s where I currently am in my thinking about this topic, as a white person who cooks dishes influenced by a number of different places but who is also not trying to cook in a way that is necessarily authentic. Some things that I keep in mind that you can ask yourself now that cdramas and cnovels have made you interested in Chinese cooking is: are you taking this as an opportunity to support immigrant businesses when getting your ingredients? are you supporting white creators when looking for chinese recipes (some suggestion of youtube channels: Made with Lau, Chinese cooking Demystified, Family in Northwest China, 西北小强 Xibeixiaoqiang, 小高姐的 Magic Ingredients)? are you being respectful (not reproducing harmful stereotypes in how you talk about chinese food and the people who eat it)? do you use your interest in Chinese food to create a narrative about China and Chinese people that denies them, in some way, of their complexity and humanity? are you using your interest in Chinese food to create a narrative about yourself?

In conclusion I will leave you with a picture of some misshapen baozi I’ve made.

[nileqt87]

How I’d write a Buffy/Angel spinoff!

I still say the best spinoff they could possibly ever make would be all the Chosen Slayers getting deactivated, then Buffy and a Shanshu'd Angel (IMO, this plot really would only work with Angel, because it actually matches his story arc, not Spike's, to want a human life and fatherhood) have a daughter who grows up not knowing the truth about her parents (and half-brother!) until it's forced to come out.

I would particularly note that the first thing that happens to newly-called Slayers is their prophetic dreams. If ever there was a way to start breaking secrets to this new heroine that also serves as flashback exposition featuring the old shows, this seems custom-built for it. It’s exposition for the audience that never saw the old shows as well as an introduction to a key Slayer ability, but most importantly, it’s personal family revelations that go far deeper than historical flashbacks of unrelated persons or monsters that mean nothing personal. These would be scandalous secrets for a baby Slayer, given Buffy was the rule-breaking Slayer who is most famous for having romantic relationships with the very creatures she’s supposed to slay. Angelus would be the worst family secret of all! This story has all the makings of an existential crisis before acceptance. That would also be a good place to drop in Connor’s history. Buffy never actually got to react to that bombshell either, so that would be an interesting drama with her, as well. Buffy and Angel both tended to feature heavily in prophetic dreams, so it also just feels right to continue that.

If there's some reason why David Boreanaz (who, let's face it, is really not getting younger and SEAL Team can't go on forever) can't or is unwilling to appear, one could have an explanation that Wolfram & Hart has had him trapped in a holding dimension for years as punishment.

You could even build an arc around that with Buffy or the daughter trying to find him. Basically, a kind way of explaining Angel's absence if necessary and Buffy unfortunately having to mirror her single mother (which was a fear of hers), despite it being no fault of Angel's. It would be yet more cruelty for him to miss out on yet another child growing up, which would be a dramatic plot point itself. It could actually become a story where he does matter quite a lot, despite initial absence or mystery.

An even bigger shock than mom having Slayer superpowers and a world full of supernatural forces would be a reveal that dad is a 394+-year-old (depends on if you count hell--in a modern-day spinoff, Angel is rapidly approaching 400 years!) ex-vampire.

The most interesting and fitting story you could ever do with a maturing Buffy would be having her be a mother and trying to have a normal life.

This would also give Sarah Michelle Gellar a starring role that allows her to be age-appropriate, yet also having a younger generation that the original audience can still care about because she isn't completely divorced from the two previous shows in the way that an unrelated Slayer spinoff would be. It allows the core storylines of *both* shows to truly matter, far more than a Buffy Steele-Gunn offspring would.

---

Just a a few notes about my pitch for a continuation that works with the real ages of actors and their availability... I should also note that Xander (played by Nick, anyway--Kelly might work for a flashback) is a character who could never appear in live-action again, so maybe he could be used as another event that contributed to Buffy's retirement besides pregnancy.

If the Shanshu and conception were directly post-NFA, any offspring would be 16 years old right now. IMO, if there were any plans to give SMG a series with her in a major supporting role, this just means that the space for how long between NFA and the Shanshu or how long Bangel got to be with each other widens for however many years it would take to revive the franchise.

I strongly believe that the best option for the franchise would be a back-to-the-suburbs story exploring age-appropriate Buffy facing motherhood, rather than trying to turn Buffy into a war general surrounded by nothing but subordinates (horribly alienating future for her) with a lack of equals or a grounded setting à la the season 8 comics. If you want to introduce the Buffyverse to a new audience whom you can't expect to watch 24-year-old shows until they're interested enough by the revival, you're going to have to ground characters in a relatable reality.

As for how a new Slayer would be called after deactivation, I firmly believe the line is through Faith now anyway, so it would just take her dying for a minute à la Prophecy Girl for a new Slayer to be called. I would definitely want Faith in the show!

--- Facebook discussion

I feel like SMG's concern was less wanting to reprise the role entirely, but more concern that she'd be expected to play the same exact role in her 40s. This is giving her a role that fits a woman (and a mother in real life) who is in her 40s and is a major supporting role rather than he young lead whose story is being centered on.

As for the Angel situation, SMG might actually be more willing to return if she could beg DB to come back for perhaps an initially-limited role and the scenario is one I believe she'd actually support, as it fits with her preferences!

While it might seem that Buffy as a single mother retreads the original, Angel is obviously nothing like the Hank situation (not to mention Joyce and Hank being completely clueless), so the circumstances of the father would be quite different from Buffy's own situation, while also feeding into her own stated fears about her future.

This also brings up all the conversations in Bad Eggs, The Prom and the Chosen cookie dough analogy (children are mentioned again) to the forefront. Unlike with the other options, it was something that came up repeatedly. Admittedly, it was always by Angel due to his infertility and the human life he most desired; all of which ended up being an important part of *his* story.

However, a part of Bad Eggs that is woefully underrated is that Buffy was disappointed when Angel told her vampires can't have children. She immediately covers it up with a babble speech and then starts making excuses for why Slayers are unlikely to have that kind of future. Young Buffy did not disregard it because she didn't want children ever at all, but because the person whom she saw that future with was someone who couldn't have them.

Enter Nikki Wood, where Buffy learns that at least one Slayer was definitely a mother, which she was clearly surprised by.

That's another reason why I can see Buffy, if she got her hopes up with post-Shanshu Angel and conceived, would do anything to be a good mom by not being all about "the mission". She would never want her child to be raised without parents. And I think she'd be doubly sensitive to that, not just because of Nikki, but because of Hank leaving and Joyce dying.

Buffy also became surrogate mother to Dawn, who was made out of her (in a sense, she is her real mother), so Angel's situation with Connor actually had a direct mirror in Buffy's situation with Dawn.

But those conversations were also not just about wished-for children that couldn't be conceived, but also asking Buffy to think about what she wants for her future if she took out the belief that Slayers don't live long enough to have one.

This show would be the answer to what happens to a Slayer when she does live long enough to have the future she barely wanted to get her hopes up for before.

Buffy (ditto Angel) is the character for which this story actually has a ton of setup in the shows themselves. These characters talked about it! And the circumstances are really nothing like Joyce and Hank, even if the initial setup plays into both Buffy and Angel's worst nightmare scenarios about parenthood: being a single mother and not getting to raise the miracle child you thought you'd never have. That kind of bittersweet writing that shirks too-good-to-be-true wish-fulfillment is a cornerstone of what makes it a Buffyverse storyline. If the daughter's family lied to her about their history to keep her safe and protect her from knowing what goes bump in the night (making them the polar opposites of Hank and Joyce in regards to knowing all too well--especially Angel's experience of being the worst thing you could bump into at night, rather than utterly clueless), that would certainly be a conflict. Especially if she found out in a particularly shocking way (say, prophetic dreams). And if Angel (I'd like to imagine he has the company of ghost!Wesley and maybe Illyria and Spike) has been taken for punishment by Wolfram & Hart, it might really confuse her if she doesn't know that he didn't just leave or some other excuse Buffy covered it up with. Wolfram & Hart would also probably love the irony of Angel getting what he most desires (to be human and a father), only to punish him with it by wasting his remaining years separated from all that he loves.

[emsylcatac]

Questions regarding issues in ML & putting them in a French cultural context

Following this post about French culture & Cheek kisses with a ML interpretation, and these asks posts (part 1, part 2, part 3), I’ve been asked to analyse some aspects regarding the latest Chat Noir salt circulating around in a French cultural context.

While the post I made about cheek kisses was only light-hearted cultural information, this one deals with heavier issues so if you’re not interested about it and just like to enjoy the cute cartoon without digging into fandom salt discourses, feel free to ignore it.

I’m going to answer @flightfoot​‘s questions here that will be copied and past; buckle up because it’s gonna be a VERY long post and I will dig deep but I will try to keep the tone as informative and neutral as possible and analyse everything step by step.

I will also remind once again that Miraculous, as a comic kids cartoon, exaggerates lots of things regarding behaviour and characters’ actions: all of that for kids to understand more easily what’s happening, the characters feelings and/or for comedic purposes. Not everything is to be taken literally and applied in a real life situation.

Again, this is my perspective as a radom French person and another French might give a different analysis, but here is mine.

/!\ WARNING: This post will give definitions of sexual harassment & aggression. While I don’t think I’m being too heavy on it (I’m still analysing a kids cartoon mind you), if these are a trigger for you, please do not continue reading or read at your own risks. The rest of the post will be undercut:

___________________

First things first, I will translate as best as I can the definition of sexual harassment as it is written in the French penal code:

“Sexual harassment is characterised by imposing on a person repeatedly words or behaviours that have a sexual or sexist connotation and that:

harm their dignity by degrading or humiliating them

or create an intimidating, hostile or offensive situation for them.

Sexual harassment is assimilating any form of serious pressure (even if not repeated) with the real or apparent aim of obtaining a sexual act, for the benefit of the perpetrator or a third party.”

... And I will do the same with the definition of sexual assault, also translated as written in the French penal code:

“Sexual assault is any non-penetrative sexual attempt on a victim with violence, coercion or threat. For example, touching.

For sexual assault to occur, physical contact is required between the perpetrator and the victim.

Sexual assault can also occur by surprise if the perpetrator acts when the victim is not expecting it. For instance, in crowds in public transports.

In all cases, the perpetrator hasn’t obtained the clear and explicit consent of the victim:

Either the victim has expressed a clear and explicit refusal and/or defended themselves but the aggressor has applied on them a physical coercion; it is the case if violence is used.

Either the victim hasn’t expressed a clear and explicit refusal and/or defended themselves because they were under moral coercion.; it is the case when the victim is under psychological pressure, when the victim doesn’t dare to say anything in front of the perpetrator (e.g. between an employee and her boss).

Either the victim wasn’t in a position to give a clear answer (for instance, a victim under the influence of drug or alcohol, or the victim is vulnerable because of their state of health).

Attempt to a sexual assault is equally punished; attempt occurs if the perpetrator tried to assault their victim but failed because of something out of their control (the victim defended themselves...).”

Okay, theory part being dealt with, room for questions! 

(I’m not going to comment on the fact that I’m legit bringing French penal code’s definition to apply in a kids cartoon and that people the characters’ age don’t even know but well here we are. I said I was going to dig deep, happy ride.)

1. So first question:

1 · “I also wanted to ask about the times when Chat has leaned in for a kiss - albeit never seriously, like in Prime Queen or Weredad. That would be taken badly in the U.S., since kissing is so serious, that that kind of more “joking” kind of kissing would likely get Chat written up in a U.S. school and placed in in-school suspension, and at the very least would warrant a stern and pointed lecture about never, ever leaning in for a kiss that’s not clearly wanted, even as a joke, even if it’s stopped. I wanted to get your perspective on that.”

I asked about what you said to some other American friends so that I could have more insights on the matter, and apparently not all of them completely agree about the fact that he would be suspended for jokingly leaning in and all. So maybe it depends how strict the school you go to in America can be.

Anyway, in France: once again this all depends on the persons involved, their relationship to each other, how comfortable they are together. Obviously a stranger (aka someone you just met for the first time) leaning in for a kiss even jokingly won’t be well perceived at all and definitely would deserve at the very least a lecture (and more than that I’d say). But Chat Noir is no stranger to Ladybug; he is her friend, her partner, and she doesn’t feel threatened by him at all because she knows him and how he reacts: they have established their boundaries. And more importantly, he stops when she asks him to: in all these regards, Chat Noir wouldn’t get a scold or a lecture in school because it is something that can be dealt with between the two persons involved.

What also needs to be understood is that the context where Chat Noir leaned in in Prime Queen for instance is very different to the one in a playground. And for that, I will have to give an analysis of the events in Prime Queen and why none of what happened is sexual harassment or assault. I will put that in parallel with Félix. (I warned you this was gonna be a hell of a long post). I’m not going to talk about Lila because I need the same person involved -- Ladybug -- but I could have. I’ve obviously rewatched the episode just before making this post so everything is fresh in my mind.

1. a. Prime Queen - analysis

There is a reason why it is in this particular episode that we see Chat Noir leaning in for a kiss and not another episode. And let me remind you about what happens at the beginning of the episode, specifically during Nadja Chamack’s interview to LB & CN:

Nadja is trying to make LB & CN admit that their relationship is more than solely partnership or friendship by showing them a bunch of photos taken out of their context. While they both know when these happened, one of them is still unknown to Chat Noir: the one where Ladybug kissed him.

(Translated form French because I’m too lazy to look for another video & it gives more French context since translations from FV to EV aren’t always the same, but anyway to remind you what is being said):

CN: What?! When did this happen? 

LB: I was trying to save you, not to kiss you!

So Chat Noir learned that in order to save him & beat an akuma, Ladybug kissed him. Following by Ladybug saying:  “It doesn’t mean anything, these images have been taken out of their context. All we were doing was our job, we save the city together every day, we are not a couple.”

... Yeah. You get where I’m going with this. All these information go to Chat Noir’s lovesick teenage brain and if Ladybug had to kiss him in order to beat the akuma, why can’t it be the solution again if the mission needs it? He’s certainly open to repeat this plan. Furthermore, Prime Queen is an akuma that seeks proof of them as a couple. 

So, first instance Chat Noir leans in for a kiss: Prime Queen tells them that a confession isn’t enough; as proof, she wants them to take off their mask and give them their miraculous. Chat Noir, knowing what he just learned before from Dark Cupid, offers a kiss as a proof instead of their Miraculous:  1. It isn’t too far fetch of a reasoning, and Ladybug is the one who said to Prime Queen they were a couple and asked Chat Noir to ‘play along’  2. There sure is ulterior motives since it would be an added bonus to be able to kiss Ladybug but she did it to him while he wasn’t aware of it, so maybe she wouldn’t mind doing it again  3. He leans in slowly, giving her all the time to pull back 

LB: Now is not the time, my kitty.

As soon as she says those words, he stops and draws back. If you look at Ladybug’s reaction, at no point does she look uncomfortable or threatened: she knows Chat Noir will stop the instant she asks because she knows him. She doesn’t even budge or lift a finger to his lips because she knows she doesn't need to. She maintains her position, has an annoyed look on her face and says it’s not the time. 

Second instance where Chat Noir leans in for a kiss: it’s basically the same except they’re stuck and Prime Queen threatens to drop Alya in the Seine. They’re both stressed so Chat Noir brought the kiss back jokingly again. I don’t think here he expects her to accept anyway. But it’s to him once again an option worth considering against the akuma since he has no idea what to do and she said cataclysm was useless when he asked if he should use it.

LB: Now is still not the time, my kitty.

Again, same reactions: he leans in slowly, she waits a bit before speaking and as soon as she opens her mouth he stops and draws back. Again, she doesn’t move at all from her position nor even feels the need to lift a finger.

All of that being analysed and put into perspective with the context of the episode which is, mind I remind you again, the one where Chat Noir discovers he had been unknowingly kissed by Ladybug in order to defeat an akuma, as well as an episode where the option of kissing isn’t too far fetch of a plan in this akuma situation, let’s check again the French definitions:

Regarding sexual harassement: there is no harm on Ladybug’s dignity by degrading or humiliating her, and Chat Noir doesn’t create an intimidating, hostile or offensive situation for her. At most, she is annoyed. It is therefore not a case of sexual harassment.

Regarding sexual assault: well do I really need to detail that one knowing that she explicitly gave her refusal of the kiss and he stopped right away? It is then again not a case of sexual assault.

I will add as well that nothing in Chat Noir’s behaviour indicates that he has a certain power over her or that he is dominating the situation: he is not. Ladybug is still in control of everything happening.

1.b. Félix comparison

Okay, now to compare this with the Félix situation in which I hope we’ll all agree there’s at the very least sexual harassment involved, otherwise an attempt to sexual assault.

(I think this scene has been analysed and analysed over and over again but if you don’t want to loose too much time to find a post about it, well here is my take on it that I’ll use to compare with Prime Queen.)

First of, let’s consider three things here:

Ladybug’s relationship to Adrien: while she knows him as Marinette and is friend with him, the both of them don’t have a close relationship like Ladybug & Chat Noir have. Therefore, between Marinette and Adrien, boundaries have been less established and tested. This is even more the case in Ladybug & Adrien’s relationship because they technically only have met a handful of times. So had Adrien just playfully leaned in for a kiss, it wouldn’t have been well perceived by Ladybug (well at least if she wasn’t in love with him, but still if it comes out of nowhere.. no) contrary to if it was Chat Noir who was playfully leaning in.

Ladybug’s relationship to Félix: she doesn't know Félix at all; Félix playfully leaning in for a kiss even if stopped would be even worse than Adrien as civilian doing it. Félix not even playfully leaning in is... Bad.

Félix is impersonating someone, aka Adrien, and tried to kiss someone.

We therefore already have major differences in this case compared to the Prime Queen situation: boundaries not established between the two persons, the two persons meeting for the first time AND identity thievery. And no akuma involved in which kissing could be a plan option.

Then, how does Félix proceeds on his attempt to kiss her and what is Ladybug’s obvious reaction?

He is moving towards her. She is immediately backing away, an intimidated & scared look on her face and her hands & arms are coming a bit up.

All of that to back her against the wall, where she won’t have room to escape.

Ok, so hand on the wall, and Ladybug’s position clearly indicating she feels unsafe. I think we can all see the differences in her reaction there compared to how she felt with Chat Noir in Prime Queen and we can all see the differences of behaviours between Chat Noir’s and Félix’s.

LB: Uh, what? Wait but NO!

Clearly, even if she loves Adrien, this is not the kind of behaviour she would expect from him given their current relationship and lack of established boundaries. It is made of course worse by the fact that it isn’t even Adrien.

Screenshots of Ladybug’s face that I’ll invite you to compare to the one she pulled in Prime Queen when Chat leans in for a kiss that I’ve put above:

And why does Félix stop? You all know that, we all loved that scene (I couldn’t find the gif and I’m very sad about it):

Ok so once again, let’s check in the French context (and I think we all agree this isn’t only a French cultural thing but we’ll look at the French standards definitions there):

Regarding sexual harassement: Félix clearly creates an intimidating and hostile situation for Ladybug. She feels unsafe and scared and it shows on her behaviour, body language & facial expression. It is therefore a case of sexual harassment.

Regarding sexual assault: there is coercion of backing Ladybug against a wall, giving her less room for escape. Ladybug has clearly and explicitly expressed her refusal, yet Félix is still trying to force a kiss onto her. The reason he failed is because something out of his control happened, aka Ladybug defended herself, aka Ladybug punched him. It is then an attempt to a sexual assault.

In conclusion to the comparison between Chat Noir in Prime Queen and Félix in, well, Félix, here are the key points differences that make one’s behaviour sexual harassment and the other not:

Chat Noir & Ladybug’s established boundaries; their friendship and partnership and the need for physical contacts due to fighting together. Communication. Refusal taken into account and respected. Akuma related. Ladybug has kissed him before for akuma related reasons.

Ladybug & Félix being stranger to each other; no boundaries established due to meeting for the first time & lack of friendship or any kind of relationship. No communication. Refusal not taken into account and not respected. Identity theft.

1.c. Weredad analysis

Ok so since flightfoot mentioned Weredad, I’m going to do a quick analysis of this instance where Chat Noir leaned in for a kiss because I feel like if I don’t do it, some people might point it out to me. Again, I rewatched the scene where it happened (not the whole episode though but it was not necessary).

And once again, there is a reason why Weredad is the other occurrence where this happens. For that we need to look at the general plot of the episode: the Marichat. The episode deals with Marinette falsely ‘confessing’ for Chat Noir and him rejecting her.

And for that, kids need to be reminded who each of their heart belongs to. It will help them grasp more the comedic and irony of the situation. So what better way to do it than starting the episode with a Ladynoir scene where:

Chat Noir is flirting with Ladybug and playfully telling her that ‘his heart is prisoner of her adorable eyes forever’, before playfully leaning in as if he was about to kiss her

Ladybug crashing in the Adrien billboard right after, sighing lovesickingly saying “Adrien’s lips, the dream!”

With that scene, we’re reminded (even if it’s obvious) that Marinette is still pursuing Adrien and Chat Noir is pursuing Ladybug. This is also simply a comical process: Ladybug unknowingly missing the very lips she is dreaming of. It makes the Marichat scenes even more ironic thanks to that.

It’s also not disturbing because they’re playfully bantering together, Chat Noir wasn’t really going to kiss her and they both know it ( someone as romantic as him wouldn’t want his first kiss with the girl of his dreams to be like that) and he is just playing the fool as always as suggested by his voice’s intonation (at least in French it’s super obvious).

Proof is, Ladybug doesn’t even react to what happened and teasingly rejects him back.

Conclusion to this question 1 :

Knowing the contexts of the episodes these events occurred, the dynamic of our characters, and the respect of boundaries: no, in a French cultural context anyway, Chat Noir wouldn’t get a scold or get in school-suspension and his actions aren’t sexual harassment. 

As for my personal perspective, I’ve never been shocked by his actions and behaviour considering the Ladynoir dynamic. I’ll repeat once again what I said in an ask: that I’m someone pretty serious on the sexual harassment & all issues and definitely wouldn’t let it slide if it were the case.

___________________

2. Second Question:

2 · I also wanted to ask about him calling her “bugaboo”; judging by his expression and her reaction, it looked like he intends it in a “lightly annoying, more teasing” way, and judging by her general reaction, that seems to be how she takes it, especially since she’s then teased him right back before, with calling him “Banananoir” and “Bugaboy” in return in Feast and Reflekdoll respectively. However, it can come off as being something much more serious by U.S. cultural standards, since she HAS asked him to stop repeatedly and he hasn’t, and since “Bugaboo” is a sort of pet name, it can come off as sexual harassment. What’s your perspective on this?

(Don’t worry everyone reading, this part will be way less long than the first question. If you’re still with me and I haven’t lost you yet, congrats! You deserve the ‘I’ve put up with Emsy’s long ramblings so I’m a warrior’ medal aware.)

Once again, I asked about other American friends and they didn’t all agree that him calling her ‘Bugaboo’ could be considered a form of sexual harassment. I guess it depends again on a lot of factors, but anyway: in France.

It is pretty common to give your friends silly and ridiculous nicknames. So I’m gonna make a list of instances where giving someone a nickname can be deemed inappropriate in France that come to mind:

a stranger giving you a nickname especially when they do not know your name; depending on the context of the situation (if it’s someone wanting to flirt inappropriately with you in the street for instance) it can be considered harassment or sexual harassment coupled with certain behaviours

a person or a group of persons you know but aren’t your friends, and are known to bully and harass you

if the nickname given by a friend has sexual connotation and you mind it.

‘Bugaboo’ doesn’t fit in any of these cases: it’s an affectionate nickname destined to a friend. You’ll notice that Chat Noir doesn’t start to call her that before a few episodes in in season 1.

Yes, she is a bit annoyed and that’s also precisely why he continues because he likes to tease her so she can tease him back. However the reason she asks him to stop is because it’s a ridiculous nickname in my opinion more than anything else. It’s definitely not as bad as ‘Adrikins’ (or ‘Adrichou’ in French) though but it is part of their banter and she indeed sees it that way.

She herself gives him plenty of nicknames that are as ridiculous so it’s give and take. As you said, she wouldn’t tease him by calling him ‘Bugaboy’ or ‘Bananoir’ back.

In French, the nickname is ‘Buguinette’. When you add an ‘-ette’ at the end of a name to make it a nickname, it implies ‘little’. So ‘Buguinette’ is basically him calling her ‘little bug’.

@coucouchatmoi​  also asked me if the reason him calling her ‘Buguinette’ annoys her is because it’s a teasing nickname or because it’s close to her civilian name, and I don’t think it has anything to do with her civilian name. It’s just because it’s affectionate and teasing.

Nicknames Ladybug calls him in French (there’s ‘Kitty’ in English): Chaton, mon Chaton, Chatounet (I think once or twice and this is typically the kind of affectionate ridiculous nickname Buguinette is; the ‘-ounet’ for a boy also implies ‘little’. Though Chatounet sounds way more ridiculous than Buguinette), Minou, mon Minou...  Side note: I’m actually kinda cringing with the ‘mon Minou’ one because there could be (’could’ being the key word, it’s a kids show so it’s not what is aimed for) perceived in France as having a little bit of sexual connotation. So it’s not at all used that way and the instances where it’s used are usually alright but yeah. Careful with the cat nicknames when you want to use them in French in your fanfics. Anyway, this to say that Ladybug’s nicknames for Chat Noir can be worse than his for her.

Again, I’ll put it into perspective with the sexual harassment definition so it’s dealt with:

Him calling her Bugaboo/Buguinette isn’t harming her dignity and isn’t degrading or humiliating her; it doesn’t create an intimidating, hostile or offensive situation. Therefore, it’s not a case of sexual harassment.

Conclusion for question 2:

No, in France, him calling her Bugaboo/Buguinette is definitely not considered sexual harassment even if she asked to stop because it’s all part of their banter and teasing. At least to me its seems reeeaaally far fetch to even possibly consider it that.

Again, it’s also all part of the Ladynoir dynamic and the comic tone of Miraculous as a cartoon.

___________________

And this is finally the end of this very very long post. I hope I answered the questions as best as I could and that what I said was clear for everyone. Thank you & congrats if you have read it all ;)

I tried to stay factual as much as possible in this and take as much things into account as I could. You’ll also notice that I didn’t bring up anything regarding Adrien’s social skill, statue as an abused victim or age because I didn’t even need to to conclude what I did.

If some of you want to have more info on French culture & perspectives regarding the show feel free to ask me; hopefully I won't have to make other posts regarding sexual harassment because I feel like I’ve talked enough about the issue between this post and the asks posts I linked at the beginning, and I’d love to talk about other aspects than salt discourses. 

[chocoholicannanymous]

(Take) These Broken Wings (Glee) 8/?

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, and you couldn’t pay me enough to take responsibility for it.

Post BIOTA: For someone who’d claimed to be his friend Blaine’s behavior sure left a lot to wish for. Hurt and angry Kurt begins to question his situation – and what he can do to change it.

POV: Kurt Hummel. Pairings: kurtofsky, blainchel. Slightly shady relationship-consent. Not Blaine friendly (no suprise at all).

So, not only do you get another chapter already (I know, what happened?) but it’s a long one. You’re welcome. Here’s hoping I can keep this up!

Previous: Part 7, Part 6, Part 5, Part 4, Part 3,  Part 2b, Part 2a, Part 1

8/?

“Mr Schue? Before we get started I have an announcement I'd like to share.”

While most of the New Directions grumbled Rachel ignored them and stood up. Kurt on his part was looking sharply at her, because something was off. Not only had Rachel not mentioned having a song, she hadn't left the seats to stand by the piano.

Yeah, something was up.

“Blaine and I have broken up. I listened to what you were saying, and I have been thinking hard about it, and the truth is that being in rival show choirs was just too big of a stressor on our relationship as was the fact that us being a couple made it so that you all couldn't trust me. It was a hard decision, but I couldn't do anything else. We're going to try and be friends still, of course, but that's all.

“Thank you for listening to me, and for showing me understanding in these trying times.”

With that she sat down, looking demure, and Kurt shook his head a little – a move he got away with only by sitting in the back row.

The only surprising thing here – besides Rachel not taking the opportunity to perform – was how long the breakup had taken. There had even been a betting pool, and “blainchel” (which really, it sounded like a venereal disease) had surpassed every single bet.

Even Santana, who Kurt felt should have been the most supportive in regards to bisexuality, had put them down at two weeks at the most.

He hadn't participated himself, for a number of reason, and in the end was probably the least surprised one.

Yes, Blaine and Rachel had been a very bad fit, but they'd also had a lot of reasons to stay together. Rachel hadn't exactly been subtle in her attempts to rub her new boyfriend in Finn's face, and Blaine... Well, Blaine had had something to prove hadn't he? After all Kurt, had basically called his attempt at dating Rachel a sham and Blaine had not liked that.

There was also Blaine's hints to Burt Hummel that his own dad had tried to make him straight.

Blaine definitely had something to gain from a continued relationship with a girl.

Oh, Rachel probably hadn't been the best choice for that, seeing as the two were not all that compatible. They were just too similar, equally eager for the spotlight, equally needy for attention.

Even if Blaine had decided he was attracted to girls- and Kurt still wasn't sure that was the case – Rachel would always be too occupied with her own need to be admired to give Blaine what he needed.

Case in point? It had taken one week for Rachel to announce a breakup after having being told off for Blaine being a risk for the New Directions. One. Week. She'd spent their entire relationship telling everyone who would stand still – and quite possibly a few that wouldn't – that her relationship with Blaine was all but written in the stars, as would their names be in the future. Together, of course, as they were just such a suited couple, both with the same dreams and ambitions and goals.

And yet as soon as Rachel thought said relationship was risking her solos Blaine was gone. In a fit of cruelty Kurt thought that they both had been looking more for a “biggest fan” than a partner.

Regardless, they were over now and Kurt hoped that it meant he wouldn't have to be subjected to Blaine again.

He cleared his mind of them both – such a waste of valuable seconds – and instead switched from pretending to listen to Mr Schue to actually doing so as the man described the latest development in their quest to not fuck up at Nationals. Oh, he didn't it call it that, but Kurt was fairly adept at translating Mr Scue-isms to reality by now.

Things are about to become interesting...

Kurt perked up and watched Rachel like a hawk. It would be very telling how she reacted to what Mr Schue was about to say – or at least, what Kurt believed the man was about to say based.

“So! To that end I've recruited some more members. Now, they won't be here until next week since I wanted to give you guys a heads up first, and I hope you'll welcome them.”

Eight Cheerios, two of them guys. Five Titans. Exactly the kind of people who never would have signed up on their own, and who most of the Glee kids would never want to sign up.

Everyone turned to stare at Rachel and when she stayed quiet – though, Kurt thought, not without a fight – they looked at him instead.

“What? Are you waiting for me to protest or what, faint in fear or something? We need the numbers, and it's not like we've done that great a job at recruiting on our own. I've worked with the Cheerios and while I can't speak for their singing each and everyone of them mean we can kick our choreography up another notch.

“As for the guys from the Titans... Well. I am going to trust that they're smart enough to not just follow directions – which they clearly managed during the halftime show – but also leave any ideas of bullying outside this room. After all, McKinley's supposed to be free from that now.”

“But, but, Karofsky's one of them!”

Which Kurt already knew. Dave had told him both about being approached and about considering it – It'll look good on college applications. Make me “well rounded” or some shit like that – and Kurt hadn't seen a problem with it. The opposite in fact. After all, Glee had helped turn Finn and Puck around (in varying degrees) and Kurt liked to think that it'd help do the same for more jocks.

“So? I'm sorry, Mercedes, but I am not seeing a problem here. Dave Karofsky has apologized to me. He has made promises to not just me, but to this school, and so far he's kept them. He has been part of my escort around school ever since I came back, and not once has he given me reason to fear him.

“If any of you want to have an issue with him, or any one of the others, joining us that's your right. Just don't expect to use me as a weapon in that fight. Because to be frank? Right now Dave Karofsky has done more to balance his scales than at least half the people in this room.”

And that shut them all down, just as Kurt had know it would.

Curiously, Rachel didn't say a word the entire time.

Another week and a half went by before the other shoe dropped.

It did so in the form of a phone call.

It wasn't a number from his contact list, but Kurt had thought it familiar so he answered anyway. He regretted it immediately.

“Kurt, hello.”

“Blaine.” Why? What did I do to deserve this?

“I was hoping we'd be able to meet up tomorrow, say at the coffee shop two blocks from Dalton? Would 2 o'clock suit you?”

Kurt had to struggle to make his voice work. Not only was Blaine calling him, but he wanted to meet? Was he asleep? Was this a nightmare brought on as punishment for having had a second slice of cheesecake after dinner? He pinched himself, and no, that hurt.

No such luck then.

“I'm sorry, but I have other plans tomorrow. Besides, I can't see what we would have to say to each other.” I definitely said everything I was willing to last time I saw you.

“Come on, Kurt. Don't be like that. Just come tomorrow.”

“Did you not hear me? I have other plans. I'd say sorry, but I'm actually not. Goodbye Blaine.”

When the doorbell rang shortly after 10 the next morning Kurt considered not opening. Somehow he wouldn't be surprised to find out that Blaine had called Rachel to complain about Kurt being mean, or unreasonable, and that she'd come to lecture him about kicking someone who was already down. The problem was that if it was Rachel then not opening would lead to either her ringing the bell again and again until Finn woke up and came to open or her being a bitch in school.

Neither was appealing, so he sighed and went to open.

Pro: It wasn't Rachel. Con: It was Blaine.

“Good morning Kurt.”

“What are you doing here? I told you I have plans.”

“Well, I knew you weren't being honest about that. Mercedes is at Rachel's, having some girl-time.”

Kurt waited for something more, anything, but nothing came.

“So what, you think I have no one to spend time except those two? Nice. I'm sure you'll be happy to find out that's not true. Also, there is such a thing that having plans on your own.”

“But if you're just doing something on your own then surely that can wait, and you can spend some time with me instead.”

“I suppose it could,” and Blaine's smile practically radiated superiority, “if I was doing something on my own, and if I wanted to spend time with you.”

The smile vanished.

“Kurt.”

It was just his name, but Kurt could hear so many things in it. “I'm disappointed in you.” “You're being ridiculous.” Too bad for Blaine that Kurt's done listening to those silent rebukes.

“I don't understand why you're pushing this. The last time I saw you at Dalton we hadn't spoken in weeks. Because you didn't want to.”

“You hurt me!”

“And I have apologized for that. Publicly even. After, I might add, trying to do so repeatedly. I didn't mean to hurt you, or make you feel like I was some kind of phobic, hateful person.

“You on the other hand meant for the other Warblers to shut me out, didn't you? So I guess we're even. I hurt you, you hurt me.”

“See? That means we can start over!”

“No, it doesn't. That's not something I want in my life, Blaine, that balance of payback. That's not healthy, and it doesn't end. After all, what happened was I said something stupid, which I said because I was hurt and angry, and that then made you hurt and angry, which made you act in a way that made me – again – hurt and angry.

“It's a vicious circle, and not one I want or need in my life.”

“Are you saying we can't be friends again? That we couldn't be...more?”

And wow, that came out of left field. It did explain a few things though, like why Blaine had gone so far as to go to Kurt's home though.

Huh.

Blaine was asking him out? Not that long ago that would have made Kurt deliriously happy, and he would have said yes before Blaine even finished the sentence. Now however, now was...different.

When Blaine had fallen head over heels for Jeremiah he’d serenaded the older boy and talked about marriage – all based on a few coffee dates, that Jeremiah hadn’t even seemed to think of as dates.

When Blaine had dated Rachel he’d done so based on drunken kisses and duets. He’d showed up at McKinley at least twice a week, to take her out for lunch or coffee, and always took her to the movies and Breadstix during the weekends. He’d sung to her as well, both in the choir room and backed up by the Warblers out in the quad.

And Kurt? Kurt got an offer for coffee in Westerville after weeks of silence, which wasn't even presented as a possible date. Only a question if they couldn't be something more than friends – and that much only after Kurt pushed. And there hadn't been even a hint of an apology for Blaine's behavior.

“Really? That's where you're going now? You and Rachel broke up, what? A week and a half, two weeks ago? And now you want to date me?”

“Why? Why now, when you weren't the least bit interested before?”

Blaine opened his mouth, probably to protest, which, no. Not acceptable.

“Don't. Back at Dalton everyone knew I liked you. Hell, you knew I liked you – I told you. But you weren’t interested in me. And that’s okay, really. Not liking someone is your prerogative. Just as everything else you’ve done. Sure, you could have changed your mind, that happens, but why now? You didn’t see me as a potential boyfriend until I left Dalton and moved on.

“So I really have to ask why? Especially since you haven't apologized for a single thing you said and did before I left. In fact, you came here still pushing that I hurt you.

“To be brutally honest, it feels as if you’re trying to guilt me into dating you. I said some things that were hurtful and rude, but I did apologize. You don’t get to hold that over my head for the rest of my life, okay? That’s just not how things work.”

Kurt took a deep breath, trying to reign in his emotions.

“We both messed up. Sure, it’s not a competition, but that’s just the way it is.”

Wait...

The coffee shop Blaine had suggested was one Kurt had been curious to try, and he had hinted at going there several times. Blaine had never wanted to go there though, but now he'd suggested it. Maybe he'd done so to please Kurt, and a couple of months ago that would have made Kurt ecstatic. Now it just made him angry. Also very suspicious. Me thinks there's something rotten in the state of Lima...

“Wait. If you were angling for a date, why make me drive all the way to Westerville? We both live here, and I know you don't usually stay at Dalton during the weekends. So why not ask me to meet up at the Lima Bean? The cinema here is a lot better than you'd think, so why not suggest a movie? Or you could have really signaled that you intended it to be a date and made reservations for dinner at Breadstix. I know you are capable of that.

“You had so many options, and instead you want to go to a coffee shop you dissed repeatedly while we were still on speaking terms and insisted we go to the Lima Bean instead. Why?”

Quiet.

“Tell me, or leave.”

Blaine pouted a little at being questioned, but broke down quickly.

“It wouldn't be fair to Rachel to go on dates here. I just can't do that to her. You know what people are like, what they say to her. What do you think they'd say if her boyfriend went from dating her to seeing another guy?”

Kurt hated to admit it, but Blaine did have a point. He could imagine exactly what people would say much to well. Understanding that didn't mean accepting being given only crumbles though.

“So you're saying...what? That protecting Rachel from possible fallout is more important than making me feel valued? At what point would your breakup be far enough in the past for a date that doesn't mean leaving town? At what point would you stop treating me like your dirty secret?”

Kurt looked at the boy he'd thought was Prince Charming and felt empty. Even as he was asking Kurt out Blaine was putting Rachel's comfort and reputation over his. And apparently that meant he wasn’t going to openly date another boy in Lima. Or was that “openly date Kurt in Lima”? Whichever it was, it still hurt.

“You matter” his dad voice whispered in his head, yet Kurt couldn’t help but feel that he didn’t. Not to Blaine. Because if he did, then surely Blaine wouldn’t act ashamed of him?

All this, after having been strung along and rejected for over six months before finally saying enough.

The sad part, the horrible part? Blaine seemed certain it’d work. Not that Kurt didn’t see why – he had, after all, been absolutely pathetic when it came to begging for Blaine’s attention.

Kurt wasn’t sure what was most pathetic now though: the fact that a part of him still wanted to say yes, just to have a boyfriend, or that the only thing holding him back was the boy who’d bullied him, and who’d sent him running towards Blaine in the first place.

He could see himself accepting Blaine’s proposition, could see himself going out with the other boy, pitifully thankful for someone actually asking him out, and just ignoring all the reasons why he shouldn’t. Sure, he was sort of doing the same when it came to Dave, but there was a difference: Dave wasn’t angling to be his boyfriend. Also, with Dave he had an easy way out. There wouldn’t be one with Blaine – not for him.

He looked at Blaine and shook his head. This was pointless.

“Don't bother answering. I am not going to go out with you regardless. Thanks but no thanks, I guess.”

Blaine's blush increased and he started spluttering out a protest of some kind (at least that's what Kurt interpreted it as.)

“Look. I'd like you to leave now. I have, as I've said repeatedly, plans. I don't want to be late because of you.”

“Late? Are you actually meeting someone? Who?”

“Nice to know you think so low about my ability to find people to socialize with. Not that it's really any of your business, but after everything that had been happening I decided I wanted to try and meet more LGBT youth. I had no idea there were so many people I could connect with around here.”

It had been heady, finding all of these teenagers that could relate to what he had gone through growing up, and who were willing to accept him as he was. Not all of them were out, but that meant less to him these days. Besides, when the lion's part of communication and socializing happened online “out” became a completely different thing.

Of course, he wasn't actually meeting any of them now, but Blaine didn't need – or deserve – to know that he was meeting Dave.

“Really? That's great! I could go with you, it'd be great.”

Sigh. There apparently was no way getting through to Blaine that didn't include a verbal version of a 2 by 4.

“No. I have plans. You are not invited. And quite frankly, I can't imagine anyone of my new acquaintances appreciating someone else tagging along without warning. You see, I learned something really important from you. It was something I already knew, but didn't really get. So, I guess thank you for driving the lesson home.”

“And what lesson was that?” Blaine looked a little cautious, which indicated that yes, he actually had a functioning brain.

“You don't out people. Goodbye Blaine.”

And he closed the door, without slamming it – he was tempted, yes, but the way his luck was running he'd crack it or something.

Kurt waited 15 minutes before leaving, just in case Blaine was standing outside waiting to ambush him. Still, as he pulled out of the driveway he kept an eye out for Blaine's car. And there it was.

It was just so Blaine. He had been told, explicitly, that he wasn't welcome to join Kurt and whoever he was meeting – a person Kurt had hinted pretty heavily wasn't out. And Blaine had just decided none of that mattered because he wanted differently. Selfish bastard. He was going to deserve everything Kurt was planning on raining down on him.

Going to the garage was a detour, and not one Kurt really wanted to spend time on, but it was his best bet when it came to getting away.

It being a Saturday meant that Hummel Tires & Lube was running on a minimal staff, for planned jobs and emergencies only. That meant there was plenty of space for Kurt to pull into the fenced yard and park behind the garage. Next he walked through the building, waving at his dad, and peeked through the window. Yup, there he is. Blaine had parked so that he'd be able to see if Kurt left – or so he thought.

“What are you doing here, buddy? I thought you were meeting up with some of your internet friends?”

“Yeah, I am. Only it seems I picked up a stalker.”

Burt looked at him, sharp and worried.

“Mhm. Blaine – from Dalton, remember? – showed up at the house, and for some reason he thought I should agree to go out with him.”

“I thought you said he wasn't interested like that.”

“Yeah, that's what I thought too. After all, not only did I not even try to be subtle, but in the end I straight out told him. His response to that was – more or less – to start dating Rachel. I haven't really spoken to him since he called me a bully for not being supportive enough of that.

“He froze me out completely after that, even though I tried to apologize so many times, and that didn't change after I left.

“Only now he and Rachel broke up, and apparently Blaine thinks I'm still waiting around for him to notice me. I don't know why, because I'm not that much of a doormat, but he sure seems to think so.”

Burt gave him another sharp look.

“You sure about that? Because to me it looks like you were willing to put up with a lot – not just from him either – to get a boyfriend.”

Kurt blushed. He was well aware of his mistakes. Falling at Blaine's feet again was not going to be one of them though.

“Damned sure, dad. If Blaine hadn't insisted on dating Rachel first, then I probably would have agreed. But now? After being passed over not once, but twice? No thank you. Yes, I want a boyfriend. But I deserve someone who will look at me first, not as a backup once all other options have been explored.”

Because that was how Blaine made him feel. Like he was the living version of “two last people on earth”, and damnit if he didn't matter more than that.

“Okay. That's fair. I'm proud of you for sticking up for yourself. Now, what about stalking?”

“Well, when I told him that not only did I not want to go out with him but I also had plans – which I had told him when he called yesterday – he tried to invite himself along. Then he followed me here. After I told him he wasn't invited to come along, and that I had no intention of outing the person I was meeting.”

Kurt watched his dad's face turn red, and felt a bit guilty. His dad's heart attack wasn't too far back, after all. But. Needs must.

“Want me to talk to him?”

“Would you? I would be so grateful. And if you'd let me go out through the back I'd be even more so.”

Because that was why he had gone there, in the hopes of using the locked back gate few people thought about. Blaine would most likely never guess to its existence, and even if he did Kurt would be able to leave while Burt Hummel gave “the prep school stalker” a piece of his mind.

As Kurt drove off he kept thinking about Blaine's actions over the past 24 hours. It made no sense. Blaine really had treated him like the last resort. The faithful dog that would come crawling back for petting even after being kicked. And that really wasn't Kurt. Except...

He'd thought Blaine and Rachel a bad match because they both wanted to be the center of attention, something neither of them would get from the other. Kurt however had always been so happy to admire Blaine that he'd constituted a fanclub all on his own. And that, right there, held what Kurt saw as the possible explanation as to why Blaine was now looking to date him instead of one of Dalton's mythological gay or bi boys.

Kurt would have – before the shunning – been happy to make Blaine the most important thing in his life. And as he'd been shown over and over again, most people would never have looked at Kurt when Blaine was there.

Thirty minutes later, stretched out on a picknick blanket with a deliciously heavy body pressed against him Kurt smiled into kisses because Dave? Dave would never look at Blaine if Kurt was around.

Monday mornings were always a downer – coming from freedom and peace to McKinley was never fun, not even with the lessened bullying. This Monday however was in the running for most annoying of the year. In one word: Rachel.

She was laying in wait for him at his locker and started her attack as soon as he was within hearing.

“Kurt? Blaine told me he asked you out, and you turned him down? Why would you do something like that? Surely he must have misunderstood you?”

Blaine again. Kurt was beginning to wish for a time machine so he could go back and tell himself to stay as far away from Blaine as possible at all times.

“I was asking myself that same question for a bit, but if he's saying I turned him down then apparently he did get the message.”

She frowned, obviously not pleased.

“Look, Kurt, I know you have all these ideas about love at first sight and all that, but honestly? You have to be realistic. So it took Blaine some time to get to the point of asking you out – but do you really think it’s fair to punish him for that? You should give him a chance. After all, this is Lima – who else is going to–”

“What? ‘Who else is going to go out with me’, was that what you were going to say?”

And why wouldn’t she? This was Rachel Berry. Tact wasn’t one of her strengths – maybe not one of her character traits at all – and neither was empathy. This is Lima, remember? Remember what Dave said about you being his only option?

“Honestly? I know that this is Lima, and I know what that means. Hell, I was sure I’d have to wait until college to get a boyfriend, and you know what? I’m okay with that. I have more respect for myself than to go out with someone just because they ask” or at least I want to have “and I definitely have too much self-respect to go out with a guy that acts like I’m something to be hidden away and he’s only asking me because he’s out of options. You might not care about me and my happiness, Rachel, but I do.

“Yes, I turned Blaine down. Yes, I meant it. And no, I’m not regretting it.

“And frankly? It's more than a little pathetic for Blaine to have his ex try and sell him to someone new – even disregarding everything. It's also not at all attractive.”

The problem with Rachel Berry – be honest, Kurt, one of many problems – was that she was a lot more dangerous than she looked, and she didn't care about casualties as long as she got what she wanted. Well, he was not going to let one of those casualties be Finn.

“No, Quinn isn't cheating on you. I don't care what Rachel says, because unlike her I actually know what's happening. Yes, Quinn is doing something that she's not telling you about. No, that something isn't making out with her ex-boyfriend.”

“Then why isn't she being honest with me about what she's up to?”

“Because it's not her secret to tell. It's not mine either, so don't look at me like that. We all know you have a problem with keeping secrets. Not because you're a gossip, or untrustworthy, but because sometimes you forget who is and who isn't in on something. So, do you think you can trust me when I say that I know what's going on, Rachel's completely wrong, and you have nothing to worry about? Because I promise you, if Quinn was cheating on you I would tell you.

“Rachel's just stirring up shit, hoping that you'll dump Quinn and come back to her now that she and Blaine's over.”

“You promise?”

And Kurt's heart hurt as he looked at the boy that'd become his brother. Finn had believed Rachel's trash-talk because he was so used to being cheated on – and cheating himself – that he didn't know how to expect anything else.

“I promise. Now, want to help me finish up dinner?”

Crisis adverted. Hopefully.

Of course it wasn't that easy. Finn refusing to go along hadn't stopped Rachel – if anything it'd made her even more determined to dig up some kind of dirt. And in her wake had come Jacob ben Israel and his damned camera and pictures in the fucking Muckraker. He liked Sue Sylvester more than most students, and felt he owed her to a degree, but this was crossing a line he wasn't going to forgive in the first place.

Not from anyone involved.

And of course it all came to blows in Glee. Even worse? The newly recruited members were there to witness.

He'd been happy to see their numbers increase, but now he found himself wishing that Mr Schue had been as ineffectual as usual so that there hadn't been quite as large an audience to Sam's humiliation.

“No. Sam, you don't owe them an explanation. You don't owe anyone anything. Rachel's inability to keep her nose out of other people's business did this, not you or I. McKinely isn't safe for LGBT students and she knows it. She also knows that it doesn't matter if someone's actually LGBT or not, just what people believe. What Jacob ben Israel posted could have landed you in the hospital or worse, and Rachel was the one who led him there.

“Won't your dads be proud of you, Rachel, knowing what you've done?”

“I haven't done anything wrong! Quinn was the one sneaking around on Finn–”

“Shut up, Rachel. She wasn't doing anything wrong – she was being a good person. Remember what that is?”

Rachel wasn't the only one whose mouth fell open as Finn spoke. Quinn looked happy as she sent him a soft smile, and Kurt, Kurt was so damned proud of his brother.

“Finn!”

“No. Look, what I did to Sam–”

“We.”

“Fine, what we did to Sam was shitty. Yet somehow he and Quinn managed to keep some level of trust and friendship, and that's just... Awesome. And I am not enough of an asshole to get in the middle of that. I trust Quinn, and I trust Sam, and you don't get to say otherwise.

“As for Kurt, yeah, you don't get to say shit about that either. Sam's never been anything but cool with Kurt, unlike the rest of us, and I thought you of all people should know better than this.”

And wow, Finn had really worked on his “disappointed in you” look. It was quite frankly amazing. The others seemed to think so too, judging from how they reacted as Finn slowly turned to meet everyone's eyes.

“I hope I don't have to explain to anyone exactly how not at all acceptable it is to spread this shit around the school. I know I'd hate to end up in detention for fighting with a team mate, or for getting into it with a girl.” “That doesn't mean I won't” hung in the air, just as loud as if Finn had actually said it out loud.

“Mr Schue? Could we get back to what we're supposed to be doing here?”

And of course since it was Finn asking that was exactly what happened.

Kurt spent the rest of practice seething.

Rachel was waiting for him by the Nav after Glee, which meant she'd put on some really impressive speed to beat him there.

“Kurt. You have to listen to me. Finn doesn't understand how dangerous it can be, being LGBT in a town like this, but you and I, we do. You know how much danger Sam will be in if people think you are seeing him.

“There are already people whispering about you turning him gay, or worse. You remember what it was like before. Do you realize how bad this is for Sam? He could get hurt – someone could hurt him, because of this. Because of you. Do you really want that for him?”

“Of course I don't, but–”

It was like speaking to a wall, except less effective.

“I just...I think you should try and distance yourself from whatever it is that you think that the two of you have going on. You should get a boyfriend.”

And there it was. Find a boyfriend. Next she’d be pushing Blaine on him again.

Anyone else, Mercedes or Tina or Brittany or yes, even Santana, and he’d have been willing to think they were looking out for him, and Sam. But this was Rachel, and he knew her too well for that.

Maybe Rachel really did care about Sam, but, Kurt knew, for Rachel Berry it was always about her in the end. Apparently once her romantic relationship with Blaine was over they’d  allowed it to morph into some strange symbiotic friendship – which Kurt felt was probably less than healthy.

Blaine wanted Kurt to go out with him, and that meant Rachel wanted it too, meaning it should happen. After all, not getting what they wanted lessened the duos’ focus on being stars, or something like that.

Also – and okay, he had no proof for that part except for experience, but that was valuable enough – if Kurt wasn’t around Sam Rachel could focus on the fact that Quinn was, could try again to drive a wedge between the blonde and Finn, hopefully leaving Finn free for the taking.

Too bad Kurt wasn’t going to cooperate then.

“Look, Rachel, even if I did find a boyfriend it wouldn’t stop me from being friends with Sam, from spending time with him. In fact, any boyfriend worth the trouble would never try to stop me from that. And it’s not like something as simple as me staying away or the truth is going to stop the gossiping jerks of McKinley. It never has before.”

They'd both been subjected to enough gossip to know that, after all.

“Also, seriously Rachel? This is only a problem because of you. You had no business sneaking around and spying, and you most definitely had no right spreading those rumors. If someone hurts Sam because of that it won’t be my fault, it’ll be yours and Jacob ben Israel's. After all, we kept a low profile for a reason. No one would know about us being friends outside of the choir room if not for you and your big mouth and your damned stalking.”

“Then you need to do something about it! We'll find a girl to go out on a couple of dates with Sam – I'm sure Mercedes would be willing. And Blaine is still interested in you, all you have to do is stop playing hard to catch. This isn't the time to let your hurt feelings run the show, Kurt, this is when you need to be better than that.”

And wow, really? Did she crack completely while I wasn't looking?

“Thanks for that suggestion, Rachel. Now would you mind moving, I would like to get out of here.”

Except he couldn't stop thinking about everything. It all went round and round in his head, until the pieces started falling together in a very ugly pattern.

Twenty minutes after leaving Rachel behind in the parking lot Kurt rang the doorbell at the Berrys.

“Kurt! I knew you'd come to your senses! I have the perfect suggestion for you to–”

“Did you do it on purpose?”

“What?”

“Did. You. Do. It. On. Purpose? Did you lead Jacob there on purpose? Did you plan this, Rachel?”

The words were coming out louder and louder, dripping with bitterness, until he was practically shouting.

Hiram Berry came running in to the hallway, took one look at his daughter backed up against a wall and the furious Kurt, and started trying to defuse the situation. Kurt wasn't having it though.

“I'm not leaving without an answer, Rachel. I also don't have a problem with airing this in front of your dad, so if you thought him being here would save you, think again.”

“What's the matter, Kurt? Whatever it is I'm sure we can fix it.”

“Right. Well, see, Mr Berry, I really doubt that. Unless of course you have a time machine hidden away somewhere.

“See, once Rachel and her boyfriend broke up – supposedly because having to keep the New Directions' setlist secret from him was just so hard – she started trying to talk my brother into dumping his girlfriend by claiming she was cheating on him. When that didn't help Rachel decided to keep stalking Quinn in the hopes to take pictures that'd make Finn leave Quinn and come running back to Rachel – or so I assume, since it's not exactly common for her to do things like this without personal gain.

“Now, maybe I would have let Rachel get away with this normally, because she didn't stand a chance of getting what she wanted, but thanks to her actions a good friend of mine is actually in danger right now.”

“I had nothing to do with those photos! And if you're so worried about Sam you should stay away from him and–” Rachel snapped her mouth shut, possibly realizing she was close to saying something that would only give Kurt more ammunition.

“You didn't take those photos, no, but there is no way Jacob ben Israel would have found Sam there without you. You already know he stalks you on a regular basis, so why would you believe he isn't now, knowing that you're single again?”

“I'm sorry, but would you mind telling me what you're talking about?”

Rachel tried to serve her version, but Kurt just talked right over her and informed Mr Berry about exactly what had happened.

“That is horrible, and we are going to come back to that later, but for now I'd like to know why you were asking if Rachel planned this.”

“Because I know her?

“No, sorry. First of all there's Finn. She went to him first, but he refused to listen to her, choosing instead to trust his girlfriend. It would be very much Rachel's style to believe that spreading the information would make Finn change his mind.

“Second, when people started asking Sam if he was involved with me in some way Rachel suggested that I could protect Sam from being called gay – and subjected to the same treatment I get – by abandoning my friend and start dating her ex-boyfriend. That I have no interest in doing so, and have in fact turned him down already, wasn't a concern for her.”

Mr Berry frowned and gave Rachel an appraising look. She soon began to blush, leading Mr Berry to frown even harder.

“I'm really disappointed in you right now, Rachel. I suggest you go to your room and think about what you've done, and we'll talk about this when your dad comes home. Kurt, would you mind answering a few more questions for me?”

It ended up being more than a few questions, but seeing as the result was Mr Berry leaving to talk with both Jacob and his parents Kurt was fine with it.

He was even more fine with it the next day when he found out the results. Jacob had lost his camera and his channel was gone. The Muckraker had been disbanded and that everyone involved had been forced to apologize to everyone they'd trashed – including Sue. And the Evans family had gotten some proper help, both with their living situation and looking for jobs. Mr and Mr Berry did not play around.

The fact that Rachel was subdued and refused to even look at Kurt was just the cherry on top.

~TBC ~

[shadowfae]

1- Not much tbh, just what you've posted, and 2- To be honest I quite like your long answers. It can definitely wait though, you should get some sleep.

Is your warpriest link a constant thing? Does it ever fade into the background? I'm contemplating forming a second link, something happier than my copinglink, and I'm not sure how to tell when to tell when the line of a link vs a persona is crossed when not worn out of necessity.

And the original ask so I have it on hand. I did take a look at your original context, and if you're cool with it, I'll edit this post with a link for those who may find this is a useful answer and need that on hand. Otherwise, it'll stay a mystery.

But yes, it seems like my Sabe experiences would be a useful thing to talk about here. And in order to do that, I need to go over four things: who and what Sabe is, why he exists the way that he does, what that does for me, and lastly what I think he is in terms of terminology and why.

To start, here is his toyhou.se profile, if you want to read more about his actual story and thoughts and whatnot. But I doubt you'll have the necessary context for that, so let me go into it. RuneScape (RS) is one of the oldest MMORPGs in existence. WoW might be older but I doubt it. Basically it's a medieval magic fantasy that's very long running and you the player end up the World Guardian, aka the guy that stops the gods (who are very powerful folks who just don't die of natural causes and typically stand for some philosophy) from blowing the world up because Guthix, the dead god of balance, asked you to. Well, he voluntold you. And that makes you a major chess piece, Elder Gods get involved, it's a big mess.

But before all that happened, back in 2006 when I was introduced to the game and very shitty at it, well. I liked the lore insofar that I've always liked the lore, it was interesting and I liked thinking about it. I didn't have membership and I sucked at playing so I just read the wiki and the God Letters over and over and sometimes the Postbag from the Hedge. Alongside my two friends, we played at being children of the then-triad of main gods: Saradomin, Guthix, and Zamorak.

I liked Zamorak best, but I didn't think his ideas would be the best for society as a whole, so I ended up playing child of Guthix. Eventually we grew up and grew apart but every couple of years I'd go back to RuneScape, read the lore, settle on what choices I'd make if I could play, and think about being the player character. In 2010 I discovered a fic - dawn by khayr, it's on Ao3 and dA - about Iban, son of Zamorak, right around when I was reading Percy Jackson. Cue him showing up as a soulbond and an older brother figure and guiding me right up until the end of sixth grade. Iban got me through the ruthless bullying that would later set the stage for all my major suicidal-ideation and self-hatred for the entirety of high school: even then, I was more stable than I might've been otherwise, because he interfered.

Saradomin stands for strength through order. Procedures and law and diplomacy and war strategy. He was originally kind of a ripoff of the Christian god, but he's grown to be more of an order-over-peace character and is quite well-written. Guthix stands for strength through balance, and has been all over the board in terms of what he's done and will do. He's kind of a dick, actually, but his heart's in the right place.

Zamorak, as you've heard, is strength through chaos and personal strife. It's no "the strong over the weak" or "the strong take care of the weak", it's flat-out "everyone is strong, and just need the right circumstances to tap into it to be the best they can possibly be". Now, his philosophy is kind of more for warriors and scholars, but if you tilt your head, it applies to everyone. Chronically ill folks will find their chaos in fighting to get up every day and maintain a life. Folks in traumatizing, abusive situations find that chaos in their very survival. Scholars challenge themselves and their fellows and their predecessors trying to find the answers they so need. Nobody in lockstep, no such thing as "we've always done it this way."

A lot of human Zamorakians and Saradominist propaganda says that Zamorak is simply absolute evil: and to be fair, when most of that was written, he kinda was because he was based loosely on the Christian devil. Later writing says that they're typically mistaken on that. Zamorak isn't evil. The very first thing he did upon becoming a god was fulfill a promise and lead a slave rebeliion. (The Avernic uprising, if anyone's curious.) He stands for the downtrodden and says "You are never going to get your dignity by going through the motions and trying to peacefully show you're worth respect. Burn some shit down and prove that you won't stand for this bullshit."

Zamorak in a Saradominist's eyes is someone whose banner you wear when you want to be a crazy murderer. Zamorak in a Zamorakian's eyes is the singing voice who murmurs "Get up, this isn't enough to kill you, you can still do this," when transphobic laws get passed or you hear a slur thrown your way on the street.

And as someone who grew up queer and nonhuman, yeah, that resonates, and the older I get the more I think "Guthixian philosophy is best for a society at large, but Zamorakianism for individuals is good." Because Zamorakianism can't really apply on a theocratic level. It really doesn't. It turns into American bootstrap culture and no social services and all that shitty stuff.

The funny thing is that Zamorak himself has no issues helping out if he thinks you need it. (If he didn't, he wouldn't be cool with asking for help, or giving it when he's asked. Which he does do repeatedly so. The man has more kindness in him than people want to admit.) What I do find fascinating is what he thinks of the actions of some of his longtime subordinates, who clearly support him, but I don't think support his actual philosophy. Because if you ask me, he'd side with the downtrodden humans of Meiyerditch, not the vampire lords that treat them like cattle. He's proven that he likes humans, and doesn't see them as unworthy. I do wonder if Jagex will show us what he might do about that.

Either way. Ahem. Over the course of a decade and a half, I keep going back to RuneScape, refining my philosophy and side, thinking again what I would do playing the game proper. About... I want to say five years ago, Jagex opened up the Sixth Age and I finally noticed, and they rewrote every god's philosophy because they wanted every single one to be actually playable. Not just "hurr durr evil" but actually have a logical line of thought. They probably didn't have pop culture paganism in mind, but the gods of RS are incredibly well-suited to it.

Well, I found that out, and immediately went through every god's philosophy, and reasoned my way through it. What does a worshipper of this god look like? What sort of life would they lead? If i apply this to me, what does that look like from that perspective? Do I understand this? Is it comfortable to exist in?

And as it turns out, I understand Zamorak the most, followed a close second by Armadyl, which was quite surprising. Zaros remains incomprehensible and I don't trust like that. (That's another story.) So I thought about it more, and it stuck even when I wandered off to different fandoms and interests. But what happened was that I ended up internalizing it, unknowingly and without meaning to.

It meant that when, two years later, I ended up in a horrific and traumatizing situation, the anchor I hit that held me together was a mixture of being a Devil - I am a fucking God you will obey me and recognize my power - and Zamorak's core philosophy: this cannot kill me, this cannot stop me, this is pure fucking hell and I am going to laugh in the face of death because people are forged in hellfire and I will walk away knowing what I'm made of.

And I was right. Honestly, out of everyone who was there with me, I think I'm the only one that was that deeply entrenched and walked out without trauma. I do not believe I could have done that had I not internalized Zamorak's philosophy. (That isn't to say if the others had that philosophy they wouldn't be traumatized, because there were absolutely other factors I wouldn't know about and some that I do and didn't do them any favours; but I am saying that it saved my ass and without it, I might not have been okay.)

I walked out of that with zero regrets. Zero. Even now, I don't regret a thing. Because it doesn't matter what happened or how much I was lied to or if he deserved my kindness. I know what I perceived to be happening, and I know how I reacted, and when the pieces were down I was stronger than steel, gave kindness without considering the cost, and I walked away unscathed.

How many people can say they've looked death in the eye and laughed? More than there should be, not too many that knowing what I'm capable of when put into pure chaos isn't somehow impressive. Because it is. And Zamorak's words proved themselves, or rather, I proved him entirely correct.

And when I last went back to RuneScape, and thought about it with enough time to put it all into hindsight, well. Aw, shit, he was right. Then vaguely around that time I went back and read Dawn, which was unfinished, tracked down the author and demanded to know how it fucking ended. (She told me and we're still friends like three years later. xD) Then I went back and found my old OCs, and decided fuck it, I'm making my own World Guardian.

So first thing I did was log in and jump over to the Makeover Mage and make myself into a boy. Kept the plateskirt though, I wanted to have the RS equivalent of a limp wrist to prove I'm Very Queer. Then I went about remaking my character. I wanted to make a self-insert, I was old enough to know it wasn't cringey, it was just fun, but I didn't want to use my default avatar with the black hair over one eye and the Chaorruption. I wanted to make a new self-insert based in nothing I was already using.

So I made the most beautiful man I could! Long, dark brown hair, pretty semi-dark skin, looked Kharidian, and then I said fuck it and made him Zamorak's youngest son. Originally, he was adopted when he was young by Iban and Clivet, and suffered serious imposter syndrome when being WG meant he'd never get demigod powers. But as I grew more confident in myself, he ended up getting powers? And then eventually I rewrote his backstory, and then wrote about his mother, and her relationship with Zamorak, and then he had friends like Blaire and Icthlarin (who was also my furry awakening, rip me).

Then with the most recently questline I've been getting a bit more into RS magical theory, and I've been mulling it over lots, and Seanan McGuire's Middlegame definitely helped; and I figured out how I wanted him to handle being World Guardian: it didn't make sense for him to be openly Zamorak's son, the other gods would just target his family to manipulate him. So I had him play neutral openly and Zamorakian to his friends, effectively living a double life.

Then he just looked up one day and said "Oh, by the way, my father won't acknowledge me to keep me safe but I don't know that so we have a very unsteady relationship because I don't know if he loves me", and then Children of Mah came out, and he was all "Oh and I think I just got disowned (I didn't, Zamorak was protecting me, but I don't know that) so my relationship with Zamorak is Fucking Shitty" and he was stuck that way until I figured out how to save their relationship.

It culminated in Sabe not knowing how his Mahjarrat powers worked and guessing, and hating himself for being half-and-half, and missing everything about being a Mahjarrat, and literally you couldn't have gotten more obvious in order to tell me I was having Fucking Issues coming to terms with the fact I didn't have any understanding or knowledge of my own heritage, but whatever, eventually I noticed that.

And as I've been working to understand myself and my heritage, so too has Sabe been doing that with his Mahjarrat heritage. But for the longest time, no matter how I put him and Zamorak in the same room in a scene to try and get them to talk it out, it wasn't working. Something wasn't right. Sabe resented being World Guardian, hated having to betray his family, didn't know if he was wanted, and hated himself for having to kill Mah, the mother of his species.

Not that long ago, a few months actually, he informed me (which is my shorthand for 'I suddenly figured out this happened, and it genuinely feels like remembering that one fucking word you have on the tip of your tongue, I always knew and just forgot for a while') that no, he'd been ripped in two by a hope devourer, brought to his father's stronghold, and Zamorak split his magic between mortal and divine in order to get around his godproofing and heal him. Zamorak's intense worry for his youngest son was what caused Sabe to break down and tell him honestly what was going on and how he was feeling, which caused Zamorak to do the same, and they finally, finally made up.

A week later, I noticed the connection between Sabe's Mahjarrat issues and my Irish issues, and started to wonder if he was a linktype.

I mean... he's a self-insert. He makes the choices I would, the me in the here and now, that I think are best. He's not a person I was and still know myself to be, he's not someone I grow into, he's not living his life beside me like a shadow. He's me, choosing the things I do, because I say so. But he's also me in the things he reflects, the things he struggles with, and things I had zero fucking conscious input on.

Sabe is the person I am when a crisis hits and I have to deal with the chaos. Sabe is the person I am when I need to lead. Sabe is the person I am when I am desperate to be known and loved by those I consider family. Sabe is the person I am when I want to be sure in where I came from, where I will return to, and the things that I will always be. Sabe is a man of darkness who knows the light as an acquaintance and nothing more, who is cruel and careless and kind.

Sabe is a warpriest of Zamorakian philosophy, because it took me twenty fucking years to put into words how I see the world, and now that I know, I will argue them to death and use them to help others. Drakath may have wanted a messiah to share the hivemind with others. Sabe is a warpriest, spreading the word and calling home the broken and the damned. He is the Last Rider, not the last of the Ilujanka but the one who keeps riding towards the chaos and never falls, no matter what.

Some of who Sabe is I have conscious input on. A whole lot of him was unintentional and perfectly reflects me.

So when it comes to terminology... I don't know what he is. A self-insert, yes. A linktype, maybe. A kintype, also maybe. Sabe doesn't feel like my past linktypes, because Sabe isn't always catharsis and comfort. Until he made up with his dad, Sabe was brutal and hurt a lot and constantly yearning for his foundation and slowly going mad. It wasn't fun. I just refused to do anything but see the story through. I was going to get it right. I wanted to see it to the end. I wanted to be the Last Rider, even though I didn't phrase it that way.

But to answer your actual question, of what he feels like when I'm not actively being him out of necessity, desire, and active thought. If it fades into the background.

And like... it can? Sabe as he is, recognized for what and who he is, is kind of a new thing. Sabe as a concept is very old, but Sabe as what he is right now is new, and confusing, and honestly I'm still trying to figure out what to make of it.

Like, seriously. Sabe is Zamorak's son. Am I Zamorak's son? Is he keeping an eye on me as I am? Would he be proud of me? Would he offer his approval of my progress? Does that make me, in some way, the World Guardian?

I have not a clue, buddy. Not a goddamn clue.

So what it means is that I've been paying attention, really. I don't just become strong in times of crisis. I've been trying to do better. Be better. Learn, and listen, and rethink myself. Break out of lockstep, of doing things the way I've always done them. Try to always do better than I did, build habits I like, stop waiting for things to change and just do it. Become the chaos, instead of waiting for it to hit me.

It means I need to live up to what Guthix told Sabe to do. It means being gentler, being kinder, not burning bridges when I'm not sure. It means keeping an eye out for any sign Zamorak's listening, in case I am his son, in case I really have to decide what I'm gonna do about being the son of chaos incarnate.

But other than the questioning, what it feels like is just... what I was already dealing with, just a little more at arm's length and easier to deal with. Once I recognize that his issues are reflective of mine, if I solve his, I have a pretty good idea of how to solve mine. Some of it won't work exactly right - Zamorak will always forgive him for not being the son he expected he might have had, my own parents may not, yay I'm queer and pagan - but it's a good rule of thumb.

It's also just comforting to know that when in doubt, nothing can kill me, because I simply refuse to die. I am World Guardian, I am a demigod of chaos incarnate, all the hellfire in the world can do nothing but strengthen me. And if I present those to myself as unshakeable beliefs, because for Sabe they are, then I'll be okay. It probably couldn't stop most disasters or tragedies, but I got hit by a car, broke five bones, and walked away with a record recovery time, so I mean... I can't prove that I can't die by some accident or tragedy, but you also can't prove that I can. (Trying to do so usually falls under what we call 'murder', and I personally believe I can't be murdered. Only assassinated.)

But really, I think the worst that could possibly happen with a new linktype is that you learn what not to do. It's new, it's scary, it's chaotic, and from where I'm standing, that's the best way to learn.

[illfoandillfie]

Taking Control

This is my A Night At The Fandom gift for @m0etenchandon I hope you like it!!

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader x Ben Hardy

Summery: You decide to give the boys a taste of their own medicine.

Warnings: Smut (18+), Threesome, unprotected sex, dom/sub (Switch!Reader), oral sex (f and m receiving), orgasm delay/denial, hair pulling, spanking, choking, blindfolds, gags, restrains/bondage, degradation, handjob, fingering, begging, but also some soft cuddles

Words: 5153

A/N: I don’t write dom!reader a whole lot but what can i say? I was inspired lmao. also ya’ll know by now i’m a slut for a threesome lmao

Taglist: @idontbelievethiss  @somekindof-cheese @dtfrogertaylor   @ezmina98  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @moreofthat-jazz

The first time you ended up in bed with both Ben and Gwil was when you were tispy at an after party. If you’d had less to drink you probably would have said it was a mistake but, after a couple of cocktails and more than a few champagnes you didn’t mind the way they sidled up to you. Ben had leaned in so you could hear him over the music, saying something which may have been a very bad pickup line. You’re not entirely able to remember but it was definitely super funny and worked well enough to get you to kiss him, hard, in the middle of the dance floor. There was tongue, you’re certain. Of course, once you’d parted Gwil said something about feeling like a third wheel so you’d pulled him into a messy kiss too. Before you knew it the three of you were locked away in an empty room. An opulent personal library that you probably weren’t meant to be anywhere near. Despite the location and slight inebriation, it had been fairly soft and sweet. You’d ended up lying between them on the rug, facing Gwil, his hands all over your tits, kissing you passionately, while Ben was buried in your cunt. Then they’d rolled you over so Gwil could fuck you while Ben sucked hickeys onto your neck and chest, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You crashed together in your hotel room, limbs tangled, feeling very satisfied. The next day had been less awkward than you'd expected it to be when you woke up with Gwil’s arm slung over your waist, your head under his chin, and Ben’s face buried in the crook of your neck. 

The second time was about a month later. A few rainy days in a row had all of you complaining over your group chat, sick of being cooped up. Gwil offered a trip to the museum as a possible solution, citing the new exhibit about space travel. It sounded fascinating, though you and Ben would happily have agreed to just about anything that gave you an excuse to leave your apartments. After spending a few hours wandering through the museum, taking photos of each other with space suits and planets hanging on wires, you decided to head back to Ben’s place for a hot coffee and maybe a spot of lunch in front of the TV. Somehow making lunch turned into flirting which turned into fooling around which turned into you sitting on Ben’s face while Gwil did his best to choke you with his cock. Eventually it turned into you, squashed between the two of them as you watched bad movies from the comfort of Ben’s couch. They kept you warm as the rain continued to bucket down outside, occasionally sharing soft kisses, but mostly just leaning your heads on each other’s shoulders as you relaxed. 

Less than a week later you were at a pub together. A few too many mojitos had you somewhat exaggerating your prowess at darts. Overconfident, you challenged both of them to a match, claiming they could come up with the punishment you’d suffer for losing because there was no way you were going to lose. Except you did lose. By a horrifically high margin. Entirely the alcohol’s fault, of course. The result was you tied to Gwil’s bed with both men taking it in turns to tease you and edge you with their tongues and fingers until you were begging for them to please please let you cum. They did eventually, but only after they’d finished over your tits and grown bored of your whining. Of course, they’d also taken care to clean you up and praised you for being so good as they snuggled in close to you. 

After that it became a fairly regular thing. Pretty much any time the three of you were together you could guarantee it’d end up in someone’s bed or, like one memorable time at Gwil’s place, bath. You lost count of the nights that ended with you on your knees for them, or with Ben’s hand around your throat while Gwil spanked you, or with you just pressed between them, lazily jerking them off while their fingers roamed over every inch of your skin. After a few months of fooling around with them, you were hit by the realisation that, no matter how things started, they always ended with the boys in control. You’d been restrained and spanked and gagged and blindfolded but you’d never had the chance to return the favour. Every time you’d come close something had stopped you and once again you were being tied up or called degrading names. Not that you had anything against any of that. It was all fun and they did always look after you, making sure you had a good time and were okay afterwards. But you couldn’t help thinking it would be nice to switch things up a little, maybe leave them with the bruises for once. That night when you wound up together again you were curious as to what would happen if you tried to take charge.  

“I had a dream about you last night Benny,” you bit your lip playfully as you dropped to straddle his lap on the couch, running your fingers up and down his arm as he automatically gripped your waist.  Ben glanced at the hallway where Gwil had disappeared a second earlier before his eyes came back to you, focusing on your lips, “Oh yeah? And what happened in this dream?”  “Well, I was sitting on your lap, just like this,”  “Yeah?” he raised his eyebrows at you.  “Yeah,” you giggled, “except your hands weren’t on my waist. They were,” you stretched the last word out as you took his wrists in your hands and pulled them together over his head, “like this. Tied up with rope so you couldn’t move them.”  Ben’s eyes grew wide but he made no move to break free of your grip.  “You looked very pretty like that. Sounded very pretty too. Begging me to fuck you, to let you cum.”  A whine escaped from deep in Ben’s throat as you leant in closer, lightly brushing your lips over his.   “Starting without me?” Both you and Ben whipped your heads round to look at Gwil as he came back, three bottles of beer in his hands. He placed them down on the coffee table and Ben let his arms drop back to your waist. In two steps Gwil was beside you, grabbing a fistful of your hair so he could tilt your head back.  “Desperate slut couldn’t wait five minutes,” he twisted your hair around his fist, making you squeak at the pain, “think that deserves a spanking, don’t you? A little lesson in being patient.”  “Yes Sir,” almost automatically you dropped back into the submissive roll the boys were used to. Ben blinked at you, looking like he’d been hit with whiplash.   “You’re being quiet Ben,”  Ben cleared his throat, “Just thinking about how I wanna see this whore squirm. She’s such a fucking tease.”  You shivered at his tone. A moment later you found yourself being pulled around, positioned over Ben’s lap with your arse in the air. Gwil readjusted his grip on your hair, kneeling so he could pin your wrists to the couch with his other hand as Ben slid your shorts and underwear down your legs.  

By the time they were finished with you your face was covered in tear tracks. Ben’s cock pressed hard against you as you tried to wriggle away from his hand coming down repeatedly on your arse. Then they’d switched, pulling you around like a ragdoll so Gwil could spank you too, all the while mocking you for being so visibly turned on by it, even as you begged them to stop. Once they’d decided you’d had enough you were pushed against the arm of the couch while they took turns fucking you from behind, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. Ben had been especially rough, frustrated by your earlier teasing. It was while he was buried to the hilt in your cunt that you decided you needed to flip the script on them properly. Later that night, as the bruises settled into your skin, you hatched a plan. You put a message in the chat saying you couldn’t stop thinking about them and desperately wanted a repeat performance of earlier. Flirty emojis were used liberally. Unsurprisingly both replied in less than a minute and within five, you had firm plans for three days’ time at Gwil’s place.  

Three days later, an hour before you were due to be there, you knocked on Gwil’s door. He answered, a little surprised at your early arrival but happy to see you nonetheless. He led you through the house towards the dining room where he’d been sat at the table, books and his laptop spread out in front of him, doing research for an upcoming roll.  You apologised for being early, making up an excuse about getting the time mixed up, though your early arrival was entirely premeditated. After all, Gwil was going to be the tougher nut to crack, it’d be easier without Ben there. Taking up residence in a spare chair you told Gwil to ignore you and keep working.  “I don’t want to interrupt,” you said in your submissive little girl voice, all corruptible innocence and desire to please, which you knew drove Gwil wild. He shifted in his seat but otherwise didn’t react. You waited a few minutes, before speaking again.  “Y’now, I had a dream about you last night,”  “What happened to not interrupting?” he chuckled, closing the book he’d been looking through. Clearly, he was intrigued and the work wasn’t anywhere near interesting enough to hold his attention.  “Sorry, I’ll be quiet,”  “No, no, continue. What happened in this dream?”  “Well,” you drew circles over the table with the tip of your finger, putting on a show of absentminded fidgeting, “it was just you and me, no Ben around. It started with me giving you a blow job but then I was tied to a chair with one of your ties.”  “Go on,” his voice was deeper than it had been a moment before.  “And you were using me so hard, Sir. Kept fingering my pussy without letting me cum, making me so horny I agreed to do anything you asked. I woke up when I came. You were fucking my throat in the dream and then I was awake and alone and so wet. Wish I’d stayed asleep a little longer to see what else you were going to do to me.”  “Who needs to be asleep? I’ve got plenty of ties just upstairs and a perfectly good chair here. And Ben won’t be here for a little while. He can take a turn using you when he arrives but we could get started now.”  You stopped drawing patterns on the table and looked at Gwil with wide eyes, “Oh yes please Sir. Where do you keep your ties? I’ll go grab a couple.”  “Upstairs, second draw in the wardrobe.”  You nodded before racing up the stairs, trying not to grin too much as the first step of your plan worked. 

When you returned Gwil was still in his chair though he’d cleared away the laptop and books he’d had out.   “Found them,” you said with a giggle, holding up the four ties you’d grabbed.  “Why so many?”  “In case you wanted to blindfold and gag me,” Another giggle.  “Here. Now,” Gwil growled, clicking his fingers.   You scampered across the floor and dropped to your knees in front of him.  “Good girl. Now show me how this dream started,”  You made short work of his fly, pulling his pants down his long legs, setting his cock free. He was already hard, your innocent submissive act working exactly as you’d hoped it would. You took him in your hand, stroking him, before you leaned in to drag your tongue along the underside of his cock, following a vein until you reached his tip. Gwil groaned as you lowered your mouth onto him, sucking at his sensitive head before sinking lower. You went slow, taking your time, using everything you’d learnt about Gwil over the past few months to make him forget himself. Between the bursts of rapid-fire flicks of your tongue on his frenulum, your fingernails dragging lightly over his balls, and the way you moaned as you finally took him into your throat, he was a complete wreck. When you raised your eyes, you saw he had his head thrown back, groans rising into the air around him as he clutched at the edge of his seat with one hand, the other resting lightly on the back of your head.  “Oh fuck, Princess,” he moaned as you gently squeezed his balls and hollowed your cheeks. You gagged as the weight of his hand became more insistent, pushing you to take more of him. He wouldn’t let you up to breath until he’d spilt every last drop of his cum down your throat. Carefully, you pulled away, leaving a small kiss on his tip as you took his hand from the back of your head, lowering it to his side. Then, while he was still dazed, you made your move. Scooting behind his chair you hurriedly brought his wrists together, binding them with one of his ties. He didn’t register what was happening at first, too caught up in trying to breath properly. It wasn’t until you were back in front of him that he noticed what you’d done. 

“What the fuck?” he gasped, trying to jerk his arms from where you’d restrained them.  “Think it’s time you learnt how to play nice, Gwil,” he was taken aback by the change in your voice, no longer the giggly Princess, as you moved to straddle his thigh.  “Let me go,” he growled.  “If you really want this to end you can use our safeword. But I think you might actually enjoy not being in control for once.”  Gwil looked you over as you began to rock against his thigh, still trying to twist his wrists free, “When I get out of here you’re going to be in for it,”  “Maybe, but right now I’m in charge. So,” you placed two fingers on his stomach and began walking them up his chest, leaning in close to his face, “I think you should be nicer to me,”  “Untie me and I’ll show you nice, Princess.”  “Uh uh uh, you call me Ma’am now.”  “Princess,” he drew the word out, “the longer it takes for you to untie me, the harder I’m going to have to punish you.”  You leaned in close, looping your arms around his neck, your lips millimeters from his, “You’re being such a brat sweetie; don’t think you’ll be going free any time soon.”  “Y’know Ben’s going to be here soon.”  “Yes, and?” you sat back, keeping your arms round him.  “He’s going to untie me and then you’ll have both of us to deal with. It’ll be easier on you if you just let me go now.”  “No, I don’t think so. Now are you going to start behaving?”  “You need to behave, Princess.”  The sound of a doorbell interrupted you.  “Now you’re in for it,”  You stood and bent to retrieve one of the other ties, placing it between Gwil’s lips and tying it off at the back of his head. He tried to say something but it was too muffled to understand.  “That’s better. Now be a good boy while I go get Ben,” with that you picked up the third tie, and left the room 

“Hiya Ben,” you said as soon as you pulled the door open.  “Hi, love, where’s Gwil?”  “In the kitchen,” you shut the door behind Ben, “a little preoccupied but he’ll be ready to go in a minute.”  When you looked over to Ben he was unabashedly staring, eyes roaming over you, taking in every inch of your appearance from your messy hair to your disheveled clothes to the marks on your knees.  “Did you and Gwil get started without me, or are you blowing other guys before you meet us?”  “It was Gwil,” you fell back into your Princess voice, “I got here early and kept distracting him while he tried to work so he put my mouth to better use.”  “Leaving me out? Think I deserve an apology, don’t you?”  “Sorry Sir,” you moved toward him, wrapping one arm around his neck as you brought your lips to his in a heated kiss. You slid your other hand into the waistband of his pants, palming his cock, feeling it growing hard under your touch. You bit your lip as you broke apart, pulling your hand free at the same time.  “It’s okay. You’re our lovely little slut after all.”  “I know how I can make it up to you properly, but it’s a surprise so you gotta let me blindfold you,” you held the tie up, dangling it in front of Ben’s eyes.  “Alright, Princess,” he chuckled, “do you promise it’ll be worth it?”  “Promise, Sir,”  “Go on then,” he turned around letting you slip the tie over his eyes.  “Can you see Sir?”  “Nope,” he held out a hand in front of him, “Can you lead me?”  You took his hand, bringing it up towards your face and sucked two fingers into your mouth.  “Christ, Princess,” he gasped, as you pulled back to giggle.  “This way Sir,” you said, pulling him along to the kitchen.   As soon as he realised you were back Gwil tried to speak but, again, it was muffled by the gag. Ben let you sit him in a second chair and pull his hands behind him.  “What are you up to Princess?” he asked, half laughing.  “You’ll see in a minute,” you quietly bent down and used the final tie to bind Ben’s hands like you had Gwil’s. Once you were sure he was secure you removed his blindfold and then Gwil’s gag. Ben blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light but as soon as Gwil could talk he was demanding to be released. You rolled your eyes, taking Gwil by the jaw and tilting his face up to yours.  “I told you already Sweetie, unless you use your safeword, the only way I’m letting you go is if you start behaving,” you leaned down to kiss Gwil briefly as you held his face tight.   “What’s going on?” Ben asked, suddenly realising the situation he was in.  You turned to face Ben, letting go of Gwil’s face so you could move closer and drag a finger along Ben’s jaw, “What’s going on, Benny, is that I’m tired of being your plaything. So today I’m in charge. Gwil here can’t seem to understand that, but you’ll be a good boy for me, won’t you?”  Ben’s cock twitched and his eyes went wide as he began nodding. “yes Ma’am. I’ll be good.” You knew Ben would be quicker to play along, the way he’d let you control him the other day proved that, but you hadn’t expected him to get into it quite so quickly. It made you smile.  “That’s what I like to hear, Benny. Think you deserve a reward,” you straddled his thigh like you had done Gwil’s earlier, pressing both palms to his chest. Slowly you dragged your hands down his torso, feeling his breathing get faster, as you began to rock your hips in an effort to relieve some of the pressure. When you reached the hem of his t-shirt you lifted it, pulling it up until you could get it over his head, leaving it caught around the back of his shoulders and neck. You leaned forward to lick a long stripe up the middle of Ben’s chest, all the way to his neck where you began pressing soft kisses as you flicked your thumbs over his nipples, making Ben whine. You paused briefly to look over at Gwil.”  “See what happens when you behave Gwil?”  “I’m going to fuck you so hard you can’t walk for a week,”  You tutted as you turned back to Ben, “he’s such a naughty boy isn’t he? Not like you, Benny. Your good. Gonna keep being good and do what I ask?”  “Yes Ma’am.”  “What do you want Benny?”  “Touch me, please,” he whimpered.  “Be more specific,”  “My cock, please, I’m so hard, need you to touch me”  “You sound so pretty when you beg,” you purred as you worked on pulling Ben’s pants over his hips, “knew you would.” 

When you finally got him free you saw just how hard he was, precum leaking from his swollen tip. You rocked yourself harder against his thigh as you spat into you palm and began stroking him.   Ben moaned out a, “Thank you Ma’am,” trying to buck his hips. You stopped all too soon, relishing the long whine Ben made.  “Gotta be patient Benny, earn my touch.”  “Yes Ma’am, I’ll do anything,”  “Good boy. I think I remember you saying I was more fun to fuck while I was begging. So now I want to hear you beg for me to let you cum while I get off on your thigh, clear?”  He nodded as you braced your palms on his chest again, grinding your clit against the seam of your shorts. As soon as you started moving, Ben began begging, telling you how hard he was because of you and how badly he needed you and promising to always do what you wanted if you’d just let him cum please. Every whimper, every needy gasp he made only spurred you on, hips speeding up as you dragged your cunt along his thigh, falling over the edge with a shudder. You slumped forward against Ben’s chest as you came, panting from the effort. He was still babbling, desperately wanting to please you, until you sat up and put a finger on his lips.  “If I untie you will you keep being good?”  “Yes Ma’am,”  You slid off his lap and moved round to his back again. Your eyes landed on Gwil as you bent to untie the knot you’d made earlier. He swallowed hard as your eyes met his.  “Looks like someone’s a bit lost for words. Did you enjoy that Gwil?”  He had to clear his throat before he could speak properly, “No, ju-just thinking about how much I want to hear you beg for me,”  “Is that so? Not jealous that I’d touch Ben? That I’d use him to get off? That I’m untying him?”  Gwil shook his head again but he was less defiant than he had been a before, his cock half hard. You let Ben stretch his arms out once they were free, holding them above his head so he could pull his shirt off the rest of the way, while you focused on Gwil.  “Y’know, I could untie you too. You just gotta promise to be good for me, do what I ask.”  “Fuck you,”  “Alright, suit yourself. You can just watch."  Turning back to Ben, you reached out to stroke him a couple more times, earning another whine, “Gotta do one thing for me and then I’ll let you cum okay?”  “What is it?”  “I need that pretty mouth of yours.”  He nodded as he stood, hands flying to your waist automatically, making you squeal as he lifted you onto the table. You didn’t even have time to praise him before he was tugging at your shorts, dropping them to the floor, quickly followed by your underwear.  “Jesus, Benny, so eager,”  He just hummed as his lips met your wet cunt. You quickly shed your shirt and bra and lay back, head landing right next to where Gwil’s chair was. He was watching you, wide eyed, biting his lip. His eyes darted away when they met yours, focusing on a spot on the wall behind you.  “Eyes on me, Sweetie, want you to watch me cum,” the last few words were more moaned than spoken as Ben licked along your slit, flicking your clit on each pass. Gwil did as he was told, cheeks pink as he focused on you again. Ben lapped at your cunt like it was his sole purpose on earth, drawing more moans and breathless cries from you as he explored every inch of you with his tongue, swirling it around your clit, pushing it as deep into your hole as he could, running it teasingly lightly over your lips. Just when you adjusted to one sensation, he’d change his tact, making your legs shake as your brain struggled to keep up  “Yes, Benny, just like that,” you clutched the edge of the table as you felt your orgasm getting closer. Ben added his fingers, pushing two into you as he resumed flicking your clit repeatedly. Gwil’s eyes were still on you, his jaw clenched tightly shut, which only turned you on more. Your cries only got louder and closer together as Ben doubled his efforts, latching his lips onto your clit and sucking hard as his fingers fucked you at a blinding pace. You came screaming Ben’s name, eyes locked onto Gwil’s. Ben continued sucking at your cunt, licking up your juices until you pushed him away.  “Holy shit, Benny.” you said sitting up and reaching out to stroke his cheek.  He leaned into your touch, “I was good?”  “So good. Perfect. You still wanna cum?”  “Please,”   “Come here then,” You pulled him in to another kiss, softer than the last one, as you wrapped your legs around him. He took the hint, slipping into you. As soon as he’d bottomed out he began thrusting into you fast, chasing the release he so desperately wanted.  “Slow down Benny,” your voice was soft but your tone was firm and, with a great effort, his slowed his hips, rolling them against you as he whimpered into your neck.   “Being so good for me, listening so well. You ready to cum?”  You felt Ben nod against you.  “Want you to cum for me, now Benny,”  Almost as soon as he had permission he was tipping over the edge, his hot cum coating your walls as he moaned against your neck.  “What do you say?”  “Thank you Ma’am,”  “Good boy,” you praised him quietly as he left you, collapsing into the chair he’d vacated earlier.  

Gwil was still watching you, cock harder than ever as his fingers twitched, wanting to touch you.  “Going to behave now Gwil?” you asked as you slid off the table.  “Yes,” he said it so quietly you almost couldn’t hear him.  “Speak up,”  “Yes Ma’am,”  “I’ll believe it when I see it. You do not have permission to cum,”  Gwil whined as you lowered yourself onto his throbbing cock, “Can I touch you? Please?”  “No, you haven’t earned that,” you trailed a hand up his chest, bringing it to rest against his throat, “Gotta prove you behave before I let you do anything.”  “I can behave, I can,”  “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,”  Gwil gave you a questioning look for half a second before his did as you asked. You raised yourself on your knees and spat into his mouth, letting your saliva drip onto his tongue before you lowered yourself back down onto him. Gwil waited for you to nod before he closed his mouth and swallowed. You didn’t give him any more warning before you began to ride him in earnest, bouncing and grinding on his cock, bringing your hands up to cup your breasts as he stared longingly at them.  It didn’t take long before he was whimpering out a needy, “Can I please cum?”   You slowed your pace, swiveling your hips as he was pulled away from the edge.  “That’s not fair, Ma’am, please, I need to cum so bad,”  “That was for threatening me,”  Once he had calmed down enough you picked up your pace again until he repeated his request to be allowed to cum. You slowed yourself again.  “That was for talking back to me,”  For the third time you began riding him again, dropping one hand to rub at your clit as his arms jerked with the desire to be free. For the third time he asked for permission to cum.  “Not yet,” you grunted, your own orgasm close at hand.  “Please, please, I n-need,”  “Hold it until I say,”  Gwil whimpered as your tits bounced in front of his face, one hand pulling at your nipples as the other rubbed fiercely at your clit.  “You can cum,” you gasped as you hit your climax, clenching around his cock. It was enough to make him cum too, filling you with his release as he screwed his eyes shut and whimpered your name. 

You peppered his jaw with light kisses, as his eyes fluttered open again.  “Did so well,” you said softly into his ear. He turned his head, grazing his lips against yours, pulling you into a soft, sweet kiss. Suddenly he pulled back.  “Can you untie me now?”  “Sorry, of course,” you laughed, standing on still slightly shaky legs and kneeling behind him. When he was free he rolled his shoulders and readjusted his clothing.  “Not so bad letting her take charge is it?” Ben said from his seat.  “Spose not...still prefer when she calls me Sir though,”  “I like calling you Sir too,” you said as you sat back on Gwil’s lap, wrapping your arms around him, “Just sometimes I like being called Ma’am instead,” you rested your head against his chest, looking over at Ben who was smiling softly.  “Y’know you could have just told us that,” Gwil said, you could practically hear his eyes rolling.  “But isn’t the hands on approach much more fun?” you poked him in the side, Ben laughing.  “Yeah it was fun,”  “If you play nice next time I won’t have to tie you up,”  “Oh no, next time I’ll be the one tying you up.”  “Watch out Y/N, Gwil’s got that look in his eye that says you’re in trouble,”  “He is trouble. Think he’s angling for a spanking,”  “Only if you’re bent over my knee.”  “Well at least I can count on Ben to be my good boy, right Benny?”  “Sure, if you come cuddle me now,”  With a laugh you made to stand up but Gwil wrapped his arms around your waist, “Not yet, give me another minute,”  “C’mon Gwil, you gotta share her,”  “Y’know he’s got a perfectly good bed upstairs big enough for all of us,” you suggested.  “Y’know if we end up in my bed, we will have to fuck you again...just as soon as we recover,” 

[bapydemonprincess]

Maybe “koi no yokan” for Sebagni? :3

koi no yokan: 'premonition of love'; the sense one can get upon first meeting another person that the two of them are going to falling love. This differs from the idea 'love at first sight' in that it does not imply that the feeling of love exists, rather refers to the knowledge that a future love is possible.

“Have any of you seen this woman?” The young Indian man called out to the rabble surrounding Sebastian Michaelis and Ciel Phantomhive, seemingly unconcerned if he and the other, taller Indian were interrupting something.

 “Eh? Get out of here kid!” One of the men cried, and the younger just sneered. “How rude.”

“Wait,” Suddenly the boy said, much more interested in Ciel and Sebastian now.  “You, are you a British Nobleman?”

“What if I am?” Was the boy’s instant response, making Sebastian wish to sigh aloud but he held back, keeping his keen gaze now on both their former threats and now the new arrivals.

Hmm, perhaps the Indian in green was the younger’s servant? He certainly looked like some kind of royalty, in comparison to the rest. Definitely not from around here...

And the man in question, he was now staring right back at Sebastian, his features blank as a smooth stone, but his eyes..

So clear, so chrystal, so all seeing... Or, it felt like it. Honestly, the demon wasn’t sure what he was suddenly feeling. He SHOULD be focusing on his master’s safety! Not this!

“Agni! Defeat the noblemen!” The younger Indian commanded.

“Jo ajna!” Agni said, and started unwrapping his right hand. “I shall use my holy weapon, which I was given that I may serve my master!”

He was grinning proudly, seeming to be showing off what he had, and looking straight across the way at Sebastian. 

Before Sebastian could react to this, Agni was on them at once, his focus clearly on Sebastian, who almost mechanically picked up his master under his arm and started to move, darting as fast as possible to dodge, putting his arm up in defense, as the Indian known now as Agni dove in to press his now unwrapped right hand to certain parts of Sebastian’s arm.

“He’s fast,” Sebastian couldn’t help saying allowed, feeling a strange mixture of irritation and yet .. awe.

“Hey, don’t forget about us!” The same men who’d tried to gang up on the butler and child were stupidly trying to get attention, and Sebastian simply ducked down in time for one of Agni’s blows to land.

“Oh no, forgive me!” The Indian cried, briefly and honestly upset for hitting a fellow Indian, but his focus rapidly returned to the retreating Butler.

While Sebastian used the more burly men to his advantage to get higher, jumping right on their heads, Agni was STILL right behind him in an instant, and once again tried to attack those certain points, but failed!

Finally, the Indian stopped, and so did Sebastian.

“I’ve repeatedly struck many of your vital points! A normal person would’ve been paralyzed by now! How are you moving?!”

Sebastian felt immediately like bringing up one of his brilliant famous quips like “if a butler of Phantomhive couldn’t-”

“We were doing nothing but walking down the street! Are you nothing but a wreckless savage who will attack anyone who walks by you?!” His master immediately blabbed out, squirming under his arm.

At once, suddenly the young royal Indian was aghast, “What?! Did you men attack this child for no reason?!!”

And all the men who’d seen the royal boy’s servant in action immediately started back peddling a little.

Crossing his arms, the young boy sighed, “Unfortunately, my countrymen are in the wrong here.” He looked at his servant. “Agni, we are on the noblemen’s side now.”

“... Right.” Was all Agni said.

At once, he took down EVERY SINGLE INDIAN that had ganged up on Sebastian and Ciel, doing the same attacks he’d tried on Sebastian, and this time making them actually collapse.

“... Bloody hell.” The boy hissed, watching while still under Sebastian’s arm.

And honestly, Sebastian had to agree, his eyes absolutely enthralled by watching the Indian servant jump around and fight, seeing every single move, every single hit, and watching like one of the rare times he got to settle in and watch a live performance.

For this... this was nothing less than... than... art.

Finally, it was over, and Agni stood amongst the piles of bodies. He turned to smile proudly at his master for his good work, looking even more delighted at getting a smile back from the boy.

And then he turned to face Sebastian and Ciel again, eyes looking right back into the demon’s once more.

“Well, there is someone I need to find, so I will be going now.” The royal boy said, picking up Ciel’s forgotten top hat and tossing it right over to them. “Goodbye!” He cried simply.

Somehow, the boy caught it.

He seemed baffled himself, really.

When the two were out of sight.... and Ciel realized he and his butler were STILL IN THE SAME SPOT facing where they WERE he immediately glared up at the demon.

“Sebastian.”

...

“SEBASTIAN.”

“Whu- Oh, forgive me, young master.” The butler finally put him down and proceeded to brush him off swiftly.

“Hmph, I’m surprised you didn’t catch any flies in your mouth, seeing it gaping open like that as it was.”

Sebastian simply gave the boy a smile “Perhaps I was simply too overcome with happiness that someone took care of all the riffraff for me for once.”

Rolling his eyes, Ciel put his hat back on.

“Come on, let’s get the hell home, I want some tea and something sweet to eat.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The butler scooped the boy up again, and hurried on back to the town house, his mind much to full of a certain Indian Servant’s face and eyes and actions to care about hearing his master complain all the way..

He knew in that moment that it wouldn’t be the last time he’d see Agni.

Though he simply couldn’t fathom at the moment what the hell would happen the next time they’d meet.

And yet...

He definitely looked forward to it.

[smuttymess]

bts astro soulmate reading | for cassandra

sign: taurus sun | libra moon | virgo rising

lover: kim namjoon | soulmate: min yoongi

This reading is for Cassandra, a fellow NY area moot and SOPE double bias - taste! I hope you enjoy this one, love. <3

With your sun Taurus, you are the “producer” of the zodiac, known for your reason, practicality, dedication, and strength. Whether at work or your personal life, know how to set intentions and explore them with patience, diligence and determination that only an earth sign can possess. While you are prone to frequent anxiety and worry in your internal world, on the outside your persona manifests as cool, calm and reasoned as you generally try to take time to think and observe before reacting. Your down to earth persona and innate goodness is very reassuring to others, offering a refuge from the harsh realities of daily life, which in turn attracts many people into your orbit - you have a quiet, naturally confident charm about you that makes people feel secure in your presence. This is only further enhanced by your Libra moon, the cornerstone of your notably friendly personality that people admire you for and you take pride in. Optimistic about the goodness of others, you are extremely loyal - your Virgo rising helps you wisely choose your relationships carefully so as to protect your ego and your sensitive soul. You certainly don’t trust everyone, but there is nothing you will not do to achieve harmony and balance amongst these various important figures in your life. You value relationships that can go the distance, and want longevity and depth in your personal and romantic world.

When it comes to your surroundings, you appreciate life’s many luxuries, but you prefer to stay far away from the superficial or fleeting material world. Your Taurus Sun/Virgo rising means that you want nice things, but are in all ways a quality over quantity type of person, which is reflected in the things you enjoy. Your classy, refined Moon in Libra also supports your deep appreciation for the finer but simpler things in life in moderate quantities: good wine, the arts, and serenity of the natural world. If you could pick your ideal evening, you’d rather enjoy a beautifully chef crafted meal with the best ingredients or a yoga session in the park with your closest friends than a raucous night of debauchery at a club. A true Libra Moon, you are a pro at bringing people together, and your home is your sanctuary which you are pleased to share with others as regularly as possible. It is at one of the many intimate dinner parties that you organize at your home that you meet Kim Namjoon, a guest of a mutual friend. He is striking in his presence, but not intentionally so. You are attracted to equally high-quality individuals, and so its no surprise you are drawn to Namjoon whose Mercury in Libra exhibits a quiet strength and intellectual nature akin to your own, though he is more reserved in nature. From across the table, you can’t help but find yourself staring and wondering what he is thinking, how easily your hands could slide beneath his grey sweater, or how his lips would feel against your nipples. Though he is not seated directly next to you, as the night goes on you find yourselves closer and closer to each other, your quiet, understated charm workings its magic until you are practically attached at the hip on a couch in the corner of the room, immersed in conversation. He is highly attracted to your optimism, energy, intellect and beauty but also the practicality of your Virgo rising (which his Sun directly resonates with.) In those initial hours it seems you talk about everything and nothing, time standing still as the party continues to buzz around you. 

From that night on, it becomes clear that his stoic Virgo never stood a chance against your star combination: a lethal combination of intention (Taurus Sun), flirtation (Libra Moon) and execution (Virgo rising). In the months that you spend together, you are thrown into an intellectual and physical affair that could only be achieved by two, grounded earth signs - though it takes some time getting off the ground. Though equally hesitant to dive into a deeply romantic relationship, you are the one to take the lead to act on those basic, primal thoughts you had that first night you met him, and decide not to waste time in fucking his brains out. It is not unusual for you to invite Namjoon over for drinks and conversation, with barely a full hour passing before you’re straddling him on your couch. It’s amazing how you how quickly you can go from casually talking current events and social justice issues to having him sucking and biting on your nipples as you ride him mercilessly into the cushions. Namjoon is an absolute perfectionist, and you enjoy the precision in which he uses his fingers to expertly rub tour clit, his eyes ablaze as he takes in the full view of you nakedly bouncing up and down on his cock. You two are not ones to mess with a good thing, valuing frequent satisfying, sure-fire approaches to getting each other off before indulging in pillow talk about your shared hopes and dreams of the future. While Namjoon often presents as unemotional or subdued, with you he feels uninhibited, strong, and irresistible. He is able to lose himself with you as your eyes lock in pure, unadulterated lust while he thrusts into you, his name spilling repeatedly from his lips. Oh my god, yes, you take me so fucking well, baby...you’re so beautiful. I could fuck you just like this forever, just like this.

Your inner and outer Libra seeks to please, negotiate and bring peace to those in conflict in order to be seen as kind, reasonable and fair in the eyes of others - it is then that you feel you have succeeded in your goal. You are generally easy going, and diplomatic while he is argumentative, frank and serious. Namjoon’s Virgo sun is often more interested in more definitive outcomes and engaging in lengthy debate to come to a more or less "correct” answer, which contradicts your internal desire for balance and to avoid conflict. With his Sun in Virgo and Cancer in Mars, he especially sees conflict as a necessary and even enjoyable part of life that leads to growth. Eventually, not even hot-and-heavy makeup sex can ease the resentment you feel from his often argumentative and critical nature. This, combined with his inability to give you the full time and attention you require in a partnership, forces you to walk away and find someone more tailored to cater to your sensitive, emotional heart. 

After your breakup with Namjoon, you take a good deal of time to reconnect with friends and family in the comfort of your own home. It is only after friends finally drag you out back into the real world that you are reminded of your naturally social nature, quickly shedding your fear around getting back out there - after all, you strive for balance and too much solitude can leave you feeling depleted and craving social energy. On one of these nights you attend a whiskey tasting, wherein you are immediately drawn to the boy at the end of the bar in his black bucket hat that hides most of his face. Clearly knowledgeable of his spirits and friendly with the bartender, you decide to get to know him further by discussing his recommendations directly. Upon bringing his eyes to meet yours and introduce himself as Min Yoongi, you are taken aback by his beauty and gentle but firm energy - there is a kindness in his slightly glossy eyes that you can feel, and it’s extremely attractive to your generally reserved heart. While his Virgo Moon is reserved, Yoongi is incredibly charming, fully understanding your subtle flirtation and using his knowledge of whiskey and very carefully spoken, deliberate speech (and sexy low voice) to get to you. It is not too long before you find yourself tipsily pressed against his side, your eyes moving between his lips and his delicate fingers that draw circles around his glass. His eyes move from your lust-filled stare to your curves as they are accentuated in your casual ensemble, and you swear you see his tongue move across his lower lip as he takes you in. But before you’re able to verify, he closes out your tabs. You’re not ready to hang with the big drinkers, love. How about I call you cab home? 

Your relationship blossoms in the light of day, outside of the haze of the whiskey bar and in cafes around city or in your respective homes as you’re both homebodies and romantics at heart. When water and earth signs come together, there is often a very symbiotic relationship at play. Though initially stoic in his persona, the Pisces Yoongi is emotional, compassionate, sentimental which pairs well with your romantic Libra tendencies. Yoongi, the endlessly hard worker and creative force, makes every effort to see, hear and get to know you all the while giving you a great deal of attention which you appreciate. You adore his ability to give you ample quality time, which you require in a partner, while also affording the independence you need to progress on your own. Luckily, his Venus in Aries makes him more direct and enterprising in areas like his career so it balances out his more lethargic side that simply wants to lay in bed and talk about big picture ideas and fantasize about a better world. Like you, he seeks equilibrium between work and play, and is successful in helping you establish said coveted balance in your own life as a trusted partner and friend. He teaches you to let go and trust the process, while you show him the beauty in said process. 

You and Yoongi understand each other on a deep level beyond traditional communication, and when the conversation ends you are easily able to use nonverbal communication to express how you truly feel. It is here where the two of you are able to be authentically yourselves without the pressures of the right words or expectations - you intuitively know what the other wants and needs. Yoongi’s exceptional creativity and desire to please extends to the bedroom, where his skills merge with his imaginative nature with you, taking you for a literal ride. Your Virgo rising equips you with a strong mind-body connection, making you an attentive and very deliberate in bed, while Yoongi is more interested in transcending the physical. Sex with him is entirely sensual, an all-consuming means of pleasing each other - he does not stop until your toes are curling and your entire body shakes in tension and arousal. You can feel your eyes roll back when his lips purr against you as his tongue circles your clit, two fingers slipping in and out of your aching center. You have no idea how amazing you taste. How lucky am I, hmm? It is not unusual for you to pin him to the bed after he’s been away too long in the studio, nibbling at his neck and making him growl in your ear. He knows what you want, his gorgeous hands grabbing your hips and pressing you down onto him before sliding your shorts to the side and slipping two fingers into you, curling them to hit your g-spot. Has my baby been waiting long for me? So impatient, are we? Come on, show how much you missed me. 

Ultimately, you and Min Yoongi are able to come together as two sensitive, diplomatic, and create souls to create a life of harmony and deep intimacy - he is your muse and you are his anchor.  While you are driven and high-achieving in select areas of your lives, you both are no strangers to rest and relaxation after a long, hard day’s work. Together, you create a true sanctuary just outside of the city where you can spend a great deal of time crafting art - he in his studio and you in your own workspace - or making meals together in your enviable kitchen. Know that through life’s inevitable ups and downs you have each other to rely on, and your shared fierce loyalty towards one another can whether any stress-related emotional outburst or time apart due to his fast-paced lifestyle. At the end of the day, you are happy to find that after years of searching you do not anything outside of your the four walls - or each others arms - to find peace. 

[gffa]

Master and Apprentice | by Claudia Gray I’M STILL YELLING ABOUT THIS (after having yelled about Qui-Gon’s hypocrisy about his beliefs and the surprising amount of unwillingness to consider alternative points of view and his contradictory response to being questioned about his beliefs) but I haven’t fully touched on the specific part about Qui-Gon’s connection to the prophecies. My instinct is that the narrative is meant to support Qui-Gon’s beliefs to a reasonably high degree, even if things are complicated, but what’s sort of really surprising to me is that almost everything of the context and parallels being drawn paint a much, much different picture.  AND IT’S SUCH A FASCINATING ONE, which is why I’m really intrigued by this book! Just the other day I was yelling about a really interesting (and I suspect deliberate) set of paralleling scenes, where Dooku asks a young not-yet-apprenticed Qui-Gon if he’s afraid vs the Jedi Council asking a young not-yet-apprenticed Anakin if he was afraid.  The different answers led into what I’ve yelled about a lot with the Jedi and fear, that it’s a lifelong challenge not to fall into it--which is even backed up in this book, when Dooku says the path ahead in learning about the Force is dangerous, “The struggle is eternal.“ That part is important, that the Jedi say that it’s a lifelong challenge to face these things, to not slip further down the path of the darkness that’s in all of us. And that’s why Qui-Gon’s beliefs just do not work for me at all.  They’re repeatedly compared to being obsessions--largely harmless and normal at first, the way watching podracing is for other Jedi younglings.  But, as Qui-Gon’s dreams start coming back, he starts getting contradictory in his responses, he snaps at Obi-Wan for entirely reasonable and frankly really mild questioning.  He starts making justifications for why he absolutely has to be right--he doesn’t want to be wrong, "But when facts collided with ideals, Qui-Gon preferred to change the facts.“ When confronted with how he absolutely, undeniable was wrong about the visions--instead he was meant to misinterpret them.  By the end of the book--a book that the second most prominent character of Rael Averross, has lost almost all his objectivity, which certainly lets us know that this is a thing that can happen, that good intentions can lead to places where someone stops seeing things clearly when they stop guarding themselves against the idea that they might possibly be wrong--by the end of the book, Qui-Gon cannot allow for the possibility that he might be wrong. Despite that we have seen him be wrong several times throughout the book (his views on the Council are often at odds with how they actually act/behave, his treatment of Obi-Wan shows that he often doesn’t really know his apprentice, he interprets his dreams incorrectly, etc.), nothing really happens that would give him evidence of his interpretations being right or show us why only he isn’t in danger of the prophecies leading him to the dark side (despite that this has been threaded throughout the entire book that Qui-Gon has danced a bit on the edge of being obsessed with them and reacting increasingly less graciously about being questioned on them), other than that he wants to be right, he feels that he is right about this. Avoiding the dark side is lifelong challenge.  You don’t ever get to a point where it’s suddenly not dangerous to you, you guard against it as long as you live, that’s how the Force works (via George Lucas) and that’s how the Jedi work.  Qui-Gon thinking that he’d hit the point where he doesn’t have to guard against the dangers of the prophecies?  That they’re no longer dangerous to him?  No, that doesn’t jive with how the dark side works--and the prophecies are shown that they are often connected to the dark side, if you let them consume you. And the thing is, yeah, there’s elements of truth about the prophecy existing, so it’d be easy to think, on the surface, that Qui-Gon is right.  But ultimately he’s not right, the prophecy isn’t really even important in the greater Star Wars story, to the point that it’s never even bothered to really explain what it is.  The future is always in motion, the whole freaking point of Revenge of the Sith is that Anakin got so wrapped up in his visions (his own mini-prophecy) that he burned the galaxy down because he tried to literally control fate, destiny, life, and death.  (And this was not some self-fulfilling prophecy, George Lucas has been very clear that Anakin’s choices were a result of his own inability to let go of things, it wasn’t on anyone else.)  That is what putting everything into the belief of prophecy gets you. And that’s why I call bullshit on Qui-Gon’s beliefs about them, why putting that much stock in the prophecies and washing away the ability to admit that you might be wrong, washing away the understanding that you’ll always have to guard against the dangers of them, gets you to some Bad End places, no matter how good those intentions were on the way to hell.

[rodimusboyfriend]

Yay for new blog! if it's alright (considering how this isn't exactly too n/sfw) may I request headcanons of Rodimus jokingly giving some very suggestive flirtations to his "not official but practically official" s/o in public, and how the crew reacts to it? (Bonus points of how they react to the s/o teasingly rejecting him back)

Rodimus alternated between miming that he was blowing somebody and wiggling his glossa in between the V of his index and middle fingers whenever you so much as glanced in his direction during meetings and every time you came onto the bridge he loudly offered you a seat on the captain’s chair while gesturing to his mouth. No matter how many times Megatron, Ultra Magnus, and literally everyone else told him to stop he kept doing it. They all wished that you’d respond to Rodimus’ overt flirtations if only to get him to shut up.

Then you actually did respond by rejecting him, which in theory should have made him stop once and for all but instead it only egged him on, especially since you had made a deliberate show of looking him up and down and sighing out that you just weren’t sure he could handle you. He redoubled his efforts after that and while you were enjoying it the rest of the crew was not.

Rodimus repeatedly announces that he would gladly bend you over or let you bend him over, he’s not picky, everytime he gets slightly overcharged at Swerve’s and has been escorted out several times for going into graphic detail about just what exactly he’d like to do with you, complete with hand gestures. One time he’d even attempted to draw it out on a napkin though that had swiftly been cut short.

He kept trying to wait for you seductively in different locations but other ‘bots kept walking in on him and after the third time someone came into his office with an actual complaint, only to find him draped over his desk with bedroom optics, he’d finally given up on trying to surprise you.

There’s bets on whether or not you two are actually together, some people are convinced that Rodimus wouldn’t be so openly pursuing you like that if you two weren’t already fragging but others think that he’s just acting out of desperation since you’re very clearly not interested in him that way. The only one who knows the actual truth is Megatron who’d had the unfortunate luck of walking in on you bouncing on Rodimus’ spike several times, though he’ll never tell as he’d really, really prefer to forget about it all together.

[harryimaginedstories]

unwelcome hands

hope you enjoy this one. it’s based on a request I got about two weeks ago. warnings: it’s mainly about a guy who can’t keep his hands to himself.

photo isn’t mine but I like it anyway.

It’s strange how it isn’t easy to have fun at a place where you are supposed to have fun. Right now, Y/N knew she was supposed to feel good. Set alive or like her skin was on fire and her blood a burning liquid that pumped pure energy through her veins. But she didn’t.

The loud music couldn’t sway her and even though she was out there among dancing strangers and dancing herself, the feeling of excitement didn’t catch on. No matter how high she stretched her arms and how far apart she spread her fingers, she couldn’t grasp that euphoria she saw written so clearly on every person’s face that was surrounding her.

Y/N felt out of place. And abandoned.

When she breathed, her lungs filled with air that was thick with artificial smoke and humid from people’s sweat. Her eyes darted around the room and the only thing showed by the dim lights was a group of people that had accomplished what she hadn’t and it was enough to make her feel terrible. Y/N wasn’t a person who didn’t enjoy a night out, it was just that she didn’t enjoy a night out on her own. And though she hadn’t come to the venue alone, after her friend had excused herself to go grab another drink a good twenty minutes ago, Y/N found it pretty safe to say that she was stranded. Even with a bar full of people asking for an alcoholic beverage, there was no way Nina would take that long, unless she had let herself be interrupted by a girl chatting her up. One glance sufficed for Y/N’s suspicion to be confirmed. Her tall and blonde friend was practically glowing as she leant against the bar with a drink in her hand, facing a girl who sipped on the glass Y/N knew had supposed to have been for her.

“Great. Thanks.“

Though the emotion of having been abandoned settled in the pit of her stomach, Y/N took a deep breath and continued to move her hips in the right rhythm to the music. Maybe she wouldn’t catch on to feeling as good as the people around her, but it didn’t hurt to continue trying.

Y/N mouthed along to the song being blasted through the speakers.

That’s when she caught the attention of somebody standing near her and even she hadn’t wanted it, she captured his interest.

Maybe it was because her night was meant to be doomed, because only minutes after she had decided to let go, a person decided to take hold of her and guide her movements so they matched his. Hands settled on her hips and pulled her against a stranger’s front where they held her tight, making her feel the friction of his jeans against her backside. Y/N’s eyes shot open. She wiggled in the man’s hold and tried to bring just a little more distance between them, but he kept his hands where they were and made it impossible for her to move any way other than in the one he guided her to. Hot breath touched her bare neck and Y/N shuddered when a foreign and wet mouth settled against the skin of her shoulder.

She tried to enjoy it. Willed herself to like what he was doing. But as mentioned before, it’s not easy to have fun when you are supposed to have fun. And the slobbery bites and nips against her jaw were anything but pleasure bringing.

The man’s approaches and the way he moved his hands against her body and up her front, was something she knew she was supposed to find arousing, yet that didn’t happen either. If anything, she was slowly suffocated. Y/N felt like a hand had closed around her throat and was tightening. This didn't feel good. There was nothing in her head or heart that found joy in what the stranger was doing with her.

“Stop!“

But of course the loud music, that had drowned out so much so far, also didn’t fail to drown out her voice as she repeatedly begged the man to let go of her body. If only he’d loosened his hold. If only he didn’t squeeze her so tight.

Then maybe she would be fine with him dancing with her, but not if he was trying to suck her skin off of her bones.

“Please,“ she wound in his hold and tried once more to shake him off, again in vain, “Let go!“

Her fingers clawed at his arms to pull them off her waist, but again he didn’t budge. No longer could she excuse his behavior as him being unaware that he was touching her against her consent. When a person digs their nails into another person’s skin and tries to wriggle out of that hold, then that person is supposed to let go. No questions asked. But he didn’t seem to know that and instead he continued to bite her, this time rather painfully, too, completely indifferent to the shaking of her body due to her crying. She wasn’t even embarrassed, certain that if the guy behind her didn’t care, then nobody would see or pay attention to Y/N’s heartache.

Y/N sobbed and whimpered, hoping that by some miracle her friend would finally remember that she hadn’t come to that club on her own.

But it was someone else who payed attention and caught on that something wasn’t right. Harry excused himself from the conversation he was having with his mates and pushed aside the people in his way so he could close the distance between himself and the girl he saw hopelessly crying as a bloke groped her from behind. His heart was hammering in his chest the closer he got, the sight of her making his tummy turn. She had her hands curled around the guy’s arms and was trying to push them off while her expression was unreadable. Though they were a bit excluded from the rest of the dancing mass, Harry couldn’t understand how nobody had caught on and noticed that something was wrong. How couldn’t everybody be pulled towards this girl and have their attention be diverted completely to her? Harry pushed away the last dancing couple that was in his way and stopped right in front of the girl where he made himself look as tall and intimidating as he could.

“Oi! Back off!“

The tall blonde gave Harry a glance before turning his attention back onto the unwilling female in his arms, clearly not aware that the demand had been made to him. The girl’s eyes instantly found Harry’s and she opened her mouth to speak, but no words escaped and she instead only released a choked sound. Harry was fuming and reached out his hand. With a hard push to the shoulder he woke the guy out of his trance and caused him to stumble slightly.

“Mate, back off!“

“The fuck’s your problem?“ the blonde snarled, surprise loosening his grip just enough for Y/N to push off his arms and stumble away, right into Harry’s side.

When her body practically fell into his, Harry was quick to reach out and push her behind him, away from the hands that were already trying to reach out and bring her back. Y/N was frozen on the spot and her hands clenched around nothing, that was until the guy who’d come to her rescue found her palms and brought them to the hem of his shirt, giving her something to hold on to.

The gesture was small, and just enough to help her breathe. With Harry’s shirt in between her hands, Y/N was pulled out of her thoughts and finally felt herself breathe again. Her chest heaved up and down with hectic breaths and with a new found strength she squeezed the clothing in-between her fingers.

Fear still made her skin feel cold, even when there was now a barrier between herself and the man who’d touched her against her will.

Y/N’s gaze travelled upward and finally she saw the face of the stranger who’d harmed her so mindlessly, a face that was hard and that’s key feature were the two piercing blue eyes staring back. She shuddered. She wouldn’t have had any chance at pushing him off on her own, not when he had hands that big and arms that strong. But Harry was tall and had wide shoulders, which gave him a much bigger frame than the blonde’s that was facing him. Big enough for her to hide behind when the blonde stepped closer.

“I asked you a question, dickhead!“

Harry didn’t even flinch and his brows only arched as his eyes practically burned. “Fuck off.“

His hand was quick and slapped away the one trying to reach around him and for Y/N. She flinched and pressed her palm to Harry’s spine.

Shakily she tried to say his name, glad to know it even when he was a stranger. “Harry-“

The blonde’s mouth curled and he tried to walk around Harry, but again he was stopped.

“Mate,“ Harry hissed, “you better watch yourself.“

“Oh fucking mind your own business.“

Even when the music was still loud, nothing could have drowned out the sound of Harry’s angry voice and Y/N was relieved to have it to focus on. It was a welcomed sound that replaced the heavy breathing and low moans she had heard only minutes before right against the shell of her ear.

“I will the second I’m sure that you’re not near her anymore.“

“Oh, you mean near the girl that’s hiding behind your back? Making you look like a proper hero, isn’t she?“

Her hold on Harry’s shirt tightened when the stranger muttered insults to her under his breath and she moved to get a better hold on Harry. She wasn’t afraid that he might change his mind and leave her with this bloke, because regardless of how intimidating he looked, Harry stood tall and seemed determined to stay a barrier between her and him. But she held on and wrapped a hand around his wrist, just to make sure.

“You’re a bastard is what you are,“ Harry hissed.

“Harry-“ Y/N nudged his shoulder with her arm but he didn’t react aside from leaning into her briefly.

“I wasn’t doing shit! Ask her! She’s fine and you’re a fucking cockblocker-“

“Cut the bullshit and piss off already!“

“Watch what you say-“

A soft but determined pull at his shirt and a somewhat tight squeeze around his wrist, diverted his attention almost instantly away from the fuming bloke and back to Y/N. She looked up at him and he was relieved to find her eyes no longer drowning in water, even when the discomfort hadn’t quite disappeared from them either.

“Please leave it,“ she said so quietly Harry wasn’t sure he’d understood her right until she repeated her request a bit firmer.

He wanted to argue, wanted to tell her that it wasn’t okay, but the expression she wore was enough to make his heart ache and he realized quickly that giving the guy an earful wouldn’t make things better for Y/N, or anyone really. That bloke knew what he had been doing. He just didn’t care. And Harry shouting at him wouldn’t change that.

Harry turned his body so it was facing hers completely, ensuring that she didn’t have to see the guy, but instead only saw him. “Want me to take you out of here?“

“Yes, please,“ Y/N nodded quickly.

Her fingers closed around his outstretched palm and she bit back a sigh when he intertwined their hands and held on tight.

Harry looked over his shoulder quickly. “I’m sure as hell going to remember your face.“

“Likewise.“

Harry granted the man one last furious glance but didn’t reply and instead gestured for Y/N to walk ahead and towards the exit, not giving the guy any chance to touch her again. With their hands still intertwined he walked closely behind her, like a guard protecting her from anybody who could want to harm her again.

The exit lead to a small courtyard where more people were drinking and smoking, oblivious to the distressed girl hurrying past them and to the other end of the building where she only stopped to finally catch a breath and lean her back against the brick wall. Harry stopped by her side.

Now that they were outside, he finally got to inspect first her face and then her arms and hips for any sign of physical hurt. His frown deepened and his chest ached when he noticed red and angry marks at the base of her neck.

Y/N was the first to find her voice. “Thank you so much.“

He shook his head quickly. “No need to thank me for anything. M’just glad I saw you.“

“Me too.“

They still held hands until she pulled hers free to brush off the tears still escaping her eyes. She sniffled and coughed. Harry watched with growing guilt.

“Stupid question but are you okay so far?“

She nodded and coughed again.

He reached out and ran a finger down her arm before squeezing her wrist gently, hoping his presence did more to calm her than to scare her further. Y/N’s chest hurt and it was only now that her neck was hit by fresh and cold air that the bites really started to burn.

“I’m just…“ she stopped, not knowing how to finish the sentence.

“S’alright,“ Harry said quietly, “S’okay now.“

Y/N looked up and briefly studied Harry’s features, which were somehow familiar and yet the face of a complete stranger. No photo she had seen or video she had watched had quite done him justice and to have him stand in front of her now was very weird. Yet at the same time, and this was strange to admit, she was happy that it was him who had come to her help. Harry wasn’t a person she believed would hurt her or do anything to intimidate her, a thought she only had thanks to his very public life. In any other situation Y/N was sure she would find it funny. A multimillionaire wasn’t somebody you run into every other day. At the same time though, dressed in a simple shirt and jeans, he looked like any other guy who’d found his way to that club and that was something Y/N decided to focus on. Just a guy. One that was nicer than the one she’d spent the most part of her night with. Y/N shuddered.

Harry, too, studied her face. His eyes kept traveling back to hers, completely fascinated and drawn in by their color and the raw emotion shining in them. He found himself hoping that someday he’d be looking into them and find nothing but joy and none of the anger and fear they held now. He also didn’t like how red they were and noticed that her eyelids looked slightly puffy as tears kept forming and be batted away.

Regardless of all that, she looked beautiful. She had a mouth shaped in a way it begged to be kissed. And her hand in his was both warm as well as impossibly soft, yet with a definite strength whenever she squeezed his fingers that made him wish she hadn’t pulled it from his grasp.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.“

“What are you apologizing for?“

Harry shrugged off his woolen jacket and handed it to her, a gesture she at first refused but gladly accepted since it was getting considerably cold.

“Just… he’s not gonna, so I think I should,“ Harry said, hoping he was making sense, “He just didn’t have any right, okay? You’ve got to know that.“

“I do,“ her hand brushed off the remaining stickiness off her face, and again she blinked rapidly, “I know.“

The sleeves of the jacket were loose on her form as it hung form her shoulders. Harry gave her a smile.

“M’Harry by the way.“

“Y/N,“ she said, a smile of her own tugging on her lips, as he had introduced himself after she’d said his name repeatedly already, “Thank you so much for helping me, Harry.“

“Of course.“

She was about to say something else, finding that talking to him was helping her feel calmer, when her eyes widened and cheeks paled. Harry noticed and quickly followed her gaze to the door where he saw the blonde bloke exit and shrug on his jacket before walking towards the street.

“He’s leaving,“ Harry muttered, glancing at Y/N beside him.

She took a deep breath. “I think I should too. Shouldn’t have come here in the first place and after tonight’s events… well, I just want to be home.“

“Y/N?!“

A girl hurried towards the two and came to a quick halt. Her blonde hair fanned over her back and she frowned when she noticed the redness of Y/N’s cheeks and eyes.

“What the hell is wrong? Why did you leave? And who are you?“

“Was about to ask you the same.“

“I’m Nina,“ the girl replied and looked at Y/N again, “Is he bothering you?“

“You’re late to care about whether or not somebody’s bothering me,“ Y/N replied, voice bitter and low, “Harry helped me get away from the person who was.“

“Oh, lovely,“ Nina cooed and rubber her friend’s shoulder, “I’m sorry. I was just talking to this girl and she… I should’ve checked up on you. I’m sorry.“

Harry tried to ignore the sudden feeling of anger overcoming him. So Y/N hadn’t even come to that damn club by herself.

“Where the hell were you?“ he snapped.

Nina arched her brows and took a step back. “I was talking to a girl by the bar, sorry. I didn’t know that something was wrong.“

“How come you remembered now?“ Y/N asked quietly, “is she not interested and you remembered I was there too or are you not as shitty of a friend as I started to think after waiting for you for thirty minutes!“

Nina didn’t know what to say, other than that the girl she had been flirting with had asked her to go home with her. She knew she’d messed up quite a bit and especially now that her friend had seemingly gotten herself a bodyguard, she couldn’t come up with an excuse and decided to go with the truth.

“That’s alright,“ Y/N said and pushed herself off the brick wall, “I was going home anyway.“

“I’ll take you,“ Harry added, before Nina could argue and was glad to notice a smile on Y/N’s face.

With few more words Nina apologized again and disappeared back into the club, where the girl she had chatted up was already expecting her. Y/N cleared her throat and started to make her way towards the busy street to her right, Harry right beside her.

“M’car s’right down there.“ He pointed to the building a couple meters away, “Didn’t drink anything.“

“You don’t actually have to take me home, Harry,“ Y/N murmured but was glad when he didn’t argue and instead lightly brushed her shoulder with his to guide her towards his car.

The ride to her home was quiet as they didn’t speak much aside from her giving him directions or him commenting on the song playing on the radio. It was all very comfortable to her and just what she needed after having had a night all too eventful. When he pulled over by her apartment building, Y/N wished they hadn’t reached their destination yet.

“Thank you.“

He chuckled. “Stop it with that already.“

He was much prettier when he smiled, she thought, and the shy hope that she would get to see him as relaxed and content as he was now more often began to grow in her tummy. As if he had read her thoughts, Harry’s smile widened and he stopped her from shrugging off his jacket.

“You can keep it.“

“What? No, no, I couldn’t. This was probably expensive and-“

“Well,“ Harry cleared his throat and tapped his hands against the steering wheel, “I could come pick it up tomorrow? Or some other time. Whenever you’re free. Or not. If you don’t want to.“

Y/N smiled and bit her lower lip before murmuring, “Tomorrow? And if you wanted then... I could come along as well?”

“Come along with the jacket?” He laughed and shrugged, glancing at her with eyes that sparkled far brighter than what they had earlier.

She nodded.

“I would love it if you came along with the jacket. Could spend some time together without shit-head blokes.“

“And shitty friends,“ Y/N added.

“Yeah.“

“Okay.“

Y/N smiled and he was surprised when her hand found his arm to squeeze and she rested her head against his shoulder for a moment that didn’t last long enough for his taste. She reached into her pocket and handed him her phone, and Harry’s heart skipped when he noticed that she was smiling as he typed in his number. This wasn’t how she’d imagined the night to end, because instead of wanting to curl up in her bed and cry, Y/N felt comfortably at ease. Happy even.

“I’ll text you,“ she promised once he handed her back her phone and excited the car not entirely willingly.

Harry nodded. “Please do.“

Instead of driving off, Harry waited patiently until he saw her walk into her building and then some more, just to make sure that she was fine and safe. He cleared his throat and started the engine of his car. And before he could drive off, he was very pleased to hear a sound from his phone, one that indicated a text message he was sincerely hoping was from the girl he’d met a bit more than an hour ago.

I hope you enjoyed it! please give me feedback. thanks for reading!! x

Want more? I got more! Masterlist

[ohscorbus]

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child: Saturday 1st September, 2018

Another one of my ‘better late than never’ recaps! I did actually write this a few days after the show but then life got in the way and I haven’t had chance to edit/post it until now.

But happy (belated) 1st September, everyone : ) Enjoy the following: Albus feels, left handed Scorpius confirmation, general Draco flailing, and Jonathan being Jonathan. If that alone doesn’t sell it to you then nothing will.

Act One, Scene Two

“Okay, then. Bye.” - Albus was so awkward before and after the hug with his dad on the platform. Not in a way ‘I don’t want to do this’ kind of way but in a ‘this is goodbye and I’m not sure I’m ready but I’m going to act like I am’ kind of way. But he was the one who gestured to his dad that they hug. Which was nice. Then after he’s hugged both his parents he turned back and placed his hands on his trolley and let out a big breath and awkwardly waved goodbye before leaving. He’s so nervous...

Act One, Scene Four

While Harry and Albus are arguing here it’s easy to forget the people walking around them. But then I spotted Delphi. She was walking past behind them and then just before she got to the wings, she looked back at Harry and Albus (still arguing) and she smirked before she walked off out of sight. It’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kind of moment but it was a reminder that she’s watching. That this plan has been in motion before Albus decided to jump off the train. 

“Is there anything...?” - Before he said this, Albus started to reach over as if to go for Scorpius’s hand but stopped himself just before he did. His hand just kind of lingered there in the space between them for a split second before he pulled it back. It broke my heart. You see, this is Albus Severus Potter. He doesn’t know what to do but he does knows he wants to comfort his best friend. Words fail him but he could do this. He comes from a very tactile family, it’s evident in the scenes before first year and after they’ve reunited in Godric’s Hollow. Albus is physically comfortable with the people he’s close with. So this moment here showed us just how close he’s become with Scorpius. I think the only reason he hesitated was because he didn’t know how Scorpius would react, and Scorpius’s need is more important to him than his own need to comfort him. What was interesting is that Scorpius then did the exact same thing before his “and be my good friend” line. They’re both reaching out for each other, quite literally, and failing to connect. It’s awkward and full of uncertainty and yet their need for each other can still be seen from space.

Lily ran over to Gryffindor and straight to James once she’d been sorted and I’ve never noticed their high five before? Or special sibling version of it anyway. It was super sweet. It says a lot about their relationship and the kind of family this version of the Potters are. It fits so well with Jamie’s ‘cool dad that’s actually super embarrassing but endearing’ Harry.

At one point, I think it might have been as he walked off stage before the wand dance in this scene, Scorpius turned and flicked his robe back as he disappeared into the wings and it was so Draco it was unreal. James literally does the same thing. I was cackling. Although on the surface, Draco and Scorpius may be miles apart, they’re actually really not. Oh these Dramatic Malfoys...

Act One, Scene Seven

Albus here usually plays with or unfolds the blanket here. I like the symbolism of it. Albus pulling apart his dad’s past. But today Albus was spinning the folded blanket between his fingers and this was even more fascinating because the spinning reminded me of the Time-Turner, and how he will go on to once again hold his dad’s history in his hands and turn it. It’s all right there. In the frustrated spinning of a boy who’s struggling to connect even though it’s all within his reach. I really hope Joe keeps doing this!

I saw flashes of anger on Albus’s face after his dad said that line today. Not unusual for an Albus, but it is for this Albus. Joe’s Albus is never so visibly crushed as Theo or defensive as Sam. He internalises the hurt and masks his reaction with this false confidence. He knows it’s true and calls his dad out on that. Those lines, ‘yes you did’ and ‘you meant it dad’, are said as a statement. Not a question or a worry he needs his dad to contradict.

Act One, Scene Ten

Albus pushed Scorpius forward towards the window and Scorpius immediately fell straight back into him because there’s no way he’s climbing out of that window thank you very much is still A+. I really love Albus realising he’s not going to move and then moving him out of the way, telling him to “just wait” and “just watch” and then moving his robe out of the way and climbing up himself. He doesn’t need to look back, he knows Scorpius will follow.

Act One, Scene Sixteen

This might be a weird thing to notice but I love that both Joe and Jonathan are playing the Polyjuice transformation scene with a numb tongue once they’ve drank it. It reminds me of that feeling you get when you eat/drink something that makes your tongue go all tingly. Plus it’s hilarious to watch. Albus is trying to talk through it, while Scorpius ended up just shaking his head with his tongue kinda hanging out. Honestly... :’)

Act Two, Scene Six

You know, I hadn’t actually cried at this scene yet with this cast. Then today happened. As soon as I saw those tears in Joe’s eyes the second he was on stage, I knew I was a goner. He seemed to have it under control until Scorpius started to awkwardly admit he was a tiny bit scared. There was this pause after and then the tears fell. He sounded so choked up as he said ‘you’re my best friend too’. It broke my heart. I’ve never seen Joe’s Albus so emotional. Watching him having to wipe away the tears falling down his face had mine falling just as fast.

Act Two, Scene Seven

So during the first task, a few of the other students (*cough* the Slytherins *cough*) boo when Bagman announces Harry. This instantly caused a reaction in Albus which I’d never seen to this extent before. He stepped forward and looked round at them all, his feelings of anger quite evident from the frown on his face. It was super interesting because while he’s still mad at his dad he clearly didn’t want or like other people disrespecting him. That’s his dad. Someone shouting ’scar head’ seemed to be the last straw for him. His expression darkened further and then a strange look crossed his face as he shrunk back into the crowd alongside Scorpius. I wonder if that ‘Harry Potter’ illusion fractured for him in that moment. Albus obviously knows his dad’s story, but I wonder how much he knows. Seeing his dad be subjected the same bullying he endures daily seemed to shake him. I hope they have a conversation about this at some point later. That’s the kind of thing Albus needs to hear from his dad, not how great Hogwarts was for Harry Potter. It’s a bit like how knowing his dad was almost sorted into Slytherin too would have helped!

Act Two, Scene Eight

Albus sat up as soon as he woke up in the hospital wing and Harry was there immediately. He stood next to his bed and shhh-ed him as he rubbed his back to try and calm him. It says a lot about what state Albus is in to allow that and also, more importantly, what their relationship used to be. That was a father instinctively calming his child. Like a young Albus waking up in that manner from a nightmare or illness was something he’s dealt with many times. He knows how to comfort him and even now, does not hesitate. I loved it.

Have I mentioned how Jamie B imitates Madam Pomfrey’s voice as he says ‘most contrary of directions’? I love it. He’s not mocking her, but simply using humour to deal with the situation. Very Albus.

I can’t remember exactly which line it was, but at some point during this scene once they start to disagree, Albus threw the chocolate his dad gave him towards the end of his bed and looked pointedly at his dad. It felt like a rejection of Harry, a petty one, but it was effective. Well, for what you’d expect from a teenager anyway.

Act Two, Scene Thirteen

“What did I miss?” - Draco and Harry simultaneously pointed at one another and gave her a look that said they shouldn’t even need to explain because the person they were pointing at was enough of an answer. It was hilarious and had a childish quality to it. It really suits the tone of this scene and it’s like they’re teenagers again. But worse. It’s the best.

Act Two, Scene Nineteen

If you get to see this cast, I beg you, don’t take your eyes off Joe in this scene. He does so many little things that are 1) great to watch, and 2) tell you so much about his Albus. His reaction to Scorpius realising why they’re there is golden. He’s so proud and as someone who loves Albus, it’s always great to see him be happy at Hogwarts and proud of something he’s achieved. Although the moment is gone in a flash when he realises Scorpius is about to call Myrtle ‘Moaning Myrtle’. He tries to stop him but doesn’t and then he just cringes but also didn’t seem the least bit surprised as Myrtle goes on the defensive and Scorpius fails to regain control. He does try and save him though. While Myrtle is repeatedly asking Scorpius what her name is, Albus is silently mouthing ‘Myrtle’ over and over again at him behind her back. He’s even swiping his hand across his neck to emphasis not including the ‘moaning’ part. Poor Scorpius must be awful at charades though because he just copies the gesture and panics as he tries to understand. Fear not, it takes him a few seconds but he does get there in the end. Have I said yet how much I love this duo? Not just Albus and Scorpius but Joe and Jonathan too. We’ve never had such a double act before. From their first scene together to their last, they portray the familiarity of friendship in such a real way. That’s what you do with your best friend. You communicate in your own language. (Figuratively speaking.) Joe and Jonathan show that beautifully. It’s in every scene.

Act Three, Scene Seven

“You’re constantly surprised by it” - When Scorpius was telling Ron and Hermione about them being in love in the other reality, he had his hand on his heart and his expression and tone was pure awe. His heart was melting. It was just so painfully obvious he adores the fact they love each other and are meant to be together in every timeline. Scorpius loving love is beyond sweet and all I want to talk about. We asked Jonathan about it afterwards and he said Scorpius loves romance and most definitely wants it for himself. (*Clutches chest* My heart.)

Can we also talk about how Scorpius reads Rita Skeeter’s book about Ron and Hermione? Does he know the differences because their story is so well known, or does it know it so well because he’s read the same book back in his reality? That’s the real question here. Actually, you know what? That sounds like something Scorpius would absolutely do, if he wasn’t so upset over Albus and stressed about his situation of course. He’d totally be in the library, re-reading all the books he knows off by heart just so he could see if there are any differences. Nerd.

Act Three, Scene Ten

You know who I love in this scene? Draco Malfoy. The range of moments that cross his face while no one is looking go from one extreme to the other. He’s young teenage Draco levels of smug as McGonagall tells Hermione off. Then when McGonagall mentions how stupid she’s been for keeping the Time-Turner, Draco looked down and ashamed, like he was the one getting told off. I’m sure even though he knows her words weren’t aimed at him, they must stick with him long after he’s left her office.

Then when McGonagall says Christmas is cancelled, he’s shocked and heartbroken. That smirk is gone in an instant. You can see he so desperately wants to interrupt her the second she says it. He genuinely seems upset here, over both his son’s happiness and his own. (The prospect of facing a Christmas alone must be awful.) The worried look on his face says he’ll plead his case to get his son back with him. It’s interesting because you’d expect him to demand it, but his body language didn’t say that at all. He’s a Malfoy, yes, but this is McGonagall. You know what, can we talk about that actually? About how much respect Draco has for McGonagall all the way through the play. It’s in the little things like his polite nod in acknowledgement when they pass each other in the Ministry meeting. Or how he uses his foot to sweep the mess from the Floo after he’s come through into her office each time. I love seeing these things. Every single time. But anyway, back to my point. Draco hides what’s going on inside so much, that to see him relax that a bit here is interesting. It also goes to show how much stress he was under. Yet now he’s got his son back safe and sound (and the trio are getting a telling off - bonus!), you can see the difference that weight being taken off his shoulders has made. 

Act Three, Scene Fourteen

“Then you can help me destroy this” - As soon as Albus saw what Scorpius had, he got up and walked away from his bed and faced away from Scorpius. He forced himself to breathe out while he had his hand on his heart and was patting it frantically, as if mimicking it’s erratic beating in this clearly stressful moment. It was funny but also a brilliant insight into the Albus that has to deal with Scorpius. Not in a bad way, but in that ‘my friend is insane’ kind of way. You know, the kind of people you have in your life that you love and wouldn’t change even though you’re sure they’ll be the death of you one day :’) He see that a lot with Joe’s Albus and it’s brilliant. It was also great to see Albus using the same breathing techniques he’s used with Scorpius before to help him breathe through overwhelming situations.

Act Three, Scene Nineteen

So April’s Delphi is so vicious and genuinely the most terrifying Delphi we’ve ever had. Whenever I hear she’s on I look forward to the pain she will inevitably cause me (and Albus and Scorpius) in this scene. She does this really cool thing where she kneels behind Albus (who’s sat on the floor) and she holds him from behind whilst aiming her wand at Scorpius. So from Albus’s point of view, it looks like he’s the one aiming his wand at Scorpius. She’s done this with both Theo and Joe, and they’ve both tried to look away but she holds their heads, forcing them to look at Scorpius who’s still on the floor opposite them. It breaks Albus every time. He’s never looked more pained than he does in that moment. Then she lets go and he crumbles. That moment really shatters something inside Albus. It’s all there in front of him in black and white. It’s his fault. Time. Craig. Scorpius.

Act Four, Scene Two

The shared confusion on Albus and Scorpius’s faces at the station master is second only to the calm that overtakes Albus’s when he decides to ‘let’ Scorpius deal with it. He gives him a little “go on then” as he motions for him to go. The best part? Scorpius just goes. It’s not until he’s walked a bit away and already got the station masters attention that he looks back at Albus with utter panic anyone with social anxiety would understand. Except Albus by this point had turned his back and while it appears he’s left his friend in the lurch, he is actually listening and trying to decipher what’s being said. It means once Scorpius has failed to deal with it and the station master then approaches Albus, he’s a little bit prepared. Such a Slytherin move. I’m also laughing because all I hear when I watch them do this in this scene is Draco saying how his son is a follower and not a leader. That statement has never been more true than with this Scorpius. There’s so much blind trust in his relationship with Albus. Luckily he’s invested that in the right person. No wonder Draco was afraid. Someone could easily abuse that power. 

Act Four, Scene Five

There are a few things that will always melt my heart. Babies. Small animals. Small, baby animals. Oh and Scorpius Malfoy aww-ing over a baby. Samuel’s Scorpius did this once and I feel like I’ve only just recovered from it. So thanks Jonathan. Thank you for acknowledging how adorable baby Harry is and not being afraid to show it. Because even if Albus didn’t join in, I did.

Act Four, Scene Eleven

Fun fact: Jamie B is my favourite Harry. I adore him. But please, for my sake as well as his, somebody get him to stand a little bit further away from the flames in St. Jerome’s. He’s practically stood on top of them and it causes me great distress every single time. Maybe it’s because I saw the show where they accidentally dropped the bench on Harry so I know things can go wrong in this scene... *sigh* Look, Jamie B, you may be Harry Potter but you’re not flame resistant. I should not be spending my evenings looking up what to do if someone accidentally catches fire. (STOP, DROP, AND ROLL, POTTER.)

Act Four, Scene Fourteen

Albus doing air quotes as he talks about the walk and it being a bonding thing is such an Albus thing.

Scorpius hesitating over Rose strolling over is funny, what’s hilarious is how Albus pushes him forward (and essentially down the stairs to his doom) with a silent, “go on then”. (One day he’s going to do an ‘Anthony’ and actually fall here and I think it’s going to cause me more harm than Jonathan.)

Act Four, Scene Fifteen

“That heart is a good one” - It was this line and all that it implied that finally made Albus crack today. He turned away and walked away for a second and tried to regain some composure. Joe’s Albus showing that level of emotion is not good for my own emotional wellbeing. Thanks Joe.

Additional (but super important) points:

You’ll be glad to know we have another left handed Scorpius!!! (Bless you, Jonathan.) That’s four out of the six confirmed. (The London casts anyway.) It’s such an unusually high number that I’m absolutely convinced it’s a Scorpius thing. The boy is just suppose to be left handed. Thankfully it’s something the actors also believe to be true so I hope you all accept and embrace left handed Scorpius into your lives. You’ll be better for it. Think about it. The elbow wars and ink smudges... such a suitable disaster. 

Talking of hands. Finger guns. Albus is a very big fan of them. What a nerd. I love that about him. He judges Scorpius but he���s just as bad, if not worse sometimes. I’m torn between the idea of it being a Scorpius thing that Albus has subconsciously picked up. Or it being completely an Albus thing and it slowly becoming something Scorpius picks up. Draco would be horrified. Or better yet, he’s not and he picks it up too. Or at leat does it to embarrass his son haha.