#whole new spin on reality tv baby

[rowanthestrange]

Carla saying Ruby’s not her daughter. Cus the woman has shown her the camera-crew behind - this is not her daughter, this is an actor playing her daughter in a TV show.

[mykneeshurt]

Telling the 141 boys + Alejandro and Rudy middle in a mission their pregnant? :0

Oooooo!!! They’d all shit their pants lmao, this is written as if they’re happy their SO is pregnant. This is a wanted pregnancy.

Warnings - pet names, gender neutral reader (as always if anything needs tweaking please make me aware!)

Price 🥃

‘John, I’m pregnant.’

Price would be overjoyed! Ecstatic even. He’s rush to you and bring you into a never ending hug but reality would soon slap him round the face. You were in the middle of a mission, with no exfil for days.

You thought you’d seen him protective before, but this is a whole other level. He’d be all over you, watching every move you make like a Hawk with its eye on its prey. Ready to jump in as soon as he had to.

He’d be on the phone to his superiors as soon as he could to get you back home, so he could have peace of mind you were safe.

Soap 🧼

‘Hey Johnny, I’ve got a surprise for you’ you smile handing over the positive test.

Soap would be beside himself with worry, he’d be so happy but the anxiety would over take that instantly. He’d be physically unable to keep his hands off your abdomen, roaming hands, little kisses on top of the wee one inside you.

He’d be in Prices office as fast as his legs could carry him telling him. Pleading for you to be taken back to base/home, anywhere away from the mission. He’d text you cute names for the baby he’d thought of, as well as links to furniture he’d found online.

He’d get to work straight away on mentally planning how the nursery would look, he’d wanna make the crib himself.

Ghost 💀

‘Simon? I need you to sit down, I’ve got some news. I’m pregnant.’

Ghost would pull you into a passionate embrace, hold his forehead against yours smiling under his mask. Deep down he would be petrified, he wouldn’t want his child to experience anything he had growing up.

He’d start to put a lot of pressure on himself to be the best dad, even before the baby was born. He’d throw himself into baby books, pregnancy books, buying them online ready to read for when he gets home.

He’d be protective but ask you what you wanted to do, knowing you were damn good at your job. He’d prefer if you went home but would respect you if you wanted to stay. He’d just be your personal bodyguard. Where you go he’s go.

Gaz 🇬🇧

‘Gaz! I’m pregnant.’

Gaz would be so happy, he’d turn low key manic at the thought of being a dad. He’d fuss over you no end, making sure you had enough to drink, to eat, we’re getting enough rest.

Gaz would also prefer you to leave the mission but would be supportive if you wanted to stay. He’d love waking up with his hands around your stomach, knowing his baby was growing inside of you.

He’d be too distracted on the mission, constantly needing to refocus himself on what he was meant to be doing. Instead daydreaming about waking up with you and the baby, Sunday papers, coffee and shitty daytime tv.

Alejandro 🌹

‘Alejandro! Look at this!’ You’d shout running the positive test to him.

He would pick you up spinning you round while kissing you. So so happy at the news of him being a father. But he’d have a very long and serious conversation with you. He’d want you to leave the mission, to be safe so he could focus. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate if he knew you were in the field.

Alejandro wouldn’t be able to keep his lips off you, kissing your face, neck, hands and especially your stomach. He’d whisper words of affection onto your stomach, wanting the growing baby to know how loved they already were.

Rudy ❤️

‘RUDY IM PREGNANT!’

Rudy would be shocked, it wasn’t that he wasn’t happy, he was. It just happened at the wrong time, like pregnancy likes to do. He’d shed a few tears of joy after getting over the initial shock. Kissing you all over and hugging you tightly.

Rudy would ask for you to be put on light duties/admin straight away, he’d be too worried if you were in the heart of chaos. He knew you could look after yourself but the thought of something happening to you scared him too much.

He’s want to name the baby after his father if it was a boy and after his grandmother if it was a girl. He’d tell you all his plans of wanting to build the baby furniture from scratch, and hanging the mobile that his grandmother made for him.

He’d tend to your every need, nothing would be too much for him.

[my-weird-news]

🚀 Justin Bieber's Secret Hunt for New Manager REVEALED!

Justin Bieber's Managerial Melodrama: A Comedy of Errors Ah, the wonderful world of pop stars and their managers! It's like a never-ending game of musical chairs where everyone's just waiting for the music to stop, and sometimes, it's more entertaining than an episode of "The Bachelor." 🎶 So, let's talk about Scooter Braun, the manager who seems to be shedding clients faster than a cat sheds fur in the summertime. 🐱 It's like he's playing a high-stakes game of Monopoly, but instead of buying properties, he's losing big-name singers. Ariana Grande and Demi Lovato have officially said, "Thanks, but no thanks," and it's got Scooter in a spin! And then there's our boy Justin Bieber. You know, the guy who went from YouTube sensation to global heartthrob? Well, turns out he's been window shopping for new managers for three whole years. That's like spending more time deciding on a manager than most people spend deciding on a couch. 🛋️ Justin, buddy, are you looking for a manager or just the perfect avocado at the grocery store? Now, picture Scooter Braun, the man who discovered Bieber and stuck by him like a particularly stubborn piece of chewing gum. Seriously, this guy has been mentor, spokesperson, and probably even pillow fluffer to Bieber through thick and thin. But wait, rumor has it these two haven't talked for months! 📞 Maybe their phone plan has a cap on friendship minutes? But hold up, before you start sending sympathy cards, the insiders are here to set the record straight. Apparently, reports of their estrangement are "not true." So, you mean to say they're still chatting over tea and crumpets every afternoon? ☕️🫖 "Hey, Justin, how's the singing? And Scooter, still managing stuff, I assume?" Oh, and let's not forget Taylor Swift, the pop star who can turn any feud into a chart-topping hit. Remember when she accused Scooter of masterfully snatching her masters? That was quite the drama. Swift poured her heart out on Instagram, and all I could think was, "Girl, you've got the emotional range of a Shakespearean tragedy!" 🎭 But wait, there's more! Bieber jumped in to defend Scooter like a knight in shining armor, or rather, a pop star in sparkly sneakers. He's all like, "Yo, Taylor, chill out. Scooter's been our buddy since the days I was singing 'Baby, baby, baby, no!'" It's like a soap opera where the characters defend each other's honor with Instagram posts instead of swords. ⚔️ And let's not leave out Demi Lovato, who swooped in to say, "Hey, stop picking on Scooter, he's a good dude!" It's like a group of high school friends vouching for the one guy who always shared his lunch. 🥪 "Yeah, he might have stolen my cookies, but he's a good man, I swear!" In the midst of all this managerial mayhem, it's clear that loyalty is as rare as a unicorn in the pop music industry. 🦄 Celebrities standing up for their managers, managers standing up for their clients – it's like a bizarre version of "Family Feud" where the answers are all about who's got your back in the celebrity jungle. So, as we watch these pop stars navigate the crazy world of managers, let's remember that even in the glitziest of industries, friendships can be as fickle as a Hollywood weather forecast. ☀️🌧️ But hey, at least it's more entertaining than a reality TV show, right? Time to grab some popcorn and settle in for the next episode of "Managerial Melodrama." 🍿🎬# Justin Bieber's Managerial Melodrama: A Comedy of Errors Ah, the wonderful world of pop stars and their managers! It's like a never-ending game of musical chairs where everyone's just waiting for the music to stop, and sometimes, it's more entertaining than an episode of "The Bachelor." 🎶 So, let's talk about Scooter Braun, the manager who seems to be shedding clients faster than a cat sheds fur in the summertime. 🐱 It's like he's playing a high-stakes game of Monopoly, but instead of buying properties, he's losing big-name singers. Ariana Grande and Demi Lovato have officially said, "Thanks, but no thanks," and it's got Scooter in a spin! And then there's our boy Justin Bieber. You know, the guy who went from YouTube sensation to global heartthrob? Well, turns out he's been window shopping for new managers for three whole years. That's like spending more time deciding on a manager than most people spend deciding on a couch. 🛋️ Justin, buddy, are you looking for a manager or just the perfect avocado at the grocery store? Now, picture Scooter Braun, the man who discovered Bieber and stuck by him like a particularly stubborn piece of chewing gum. Seriously, this guy has been mentor, spokesperson, and probably even pillow fluffer to Bieber through thick and thin. But wait, rumor has it these two haven't talked for months! 📞 Maybe their phone plan has a cap on friendship minutes? But hold up, before you start sending sympathy cards, the insiders are here to set the record straight. Apparently, reports of their estrangement are "not true." So, you mean to say they're still chatting over tea and crumpets every afternoon? ☕️🫖 "Hey, Justin, how's the singing? And Scooter, still managing stuff, I assume?" Oh, and let's not forget Taylor Swift, the pop star who can turn any feud into a chart-topping hit. Remember when she accused Scooter of masterfully snatching her masters? That was quite the drama. Swift poured her heart out on Instagram, and all I could think was, "Girl, you've got the emotional range of a Shakespearean tragedy!" 🎭 But wait, there's more! Bieber jumped in to defend Scooter like a knight in shining armor, or rather, a pop star in sparkly sneakers. He's all like, "Yo, Taylor, chill out. Scooter's been our buddy since the days I was singing 'Baby, baby, baby, no!'" It's like a soap opera where the characters defend each other's honor with Instagram posts instead of swords. ⚔️ And let's not leave out Demi Lovato, who swooped in to say, "Hey, stop picking on Scooter, he's a good dude!" It's like a group of high school friends vouching for the one guy who always shared his lunch. 🥪 "Yeah, he might have stolen my cookies, but he's a good man, I swear!" In the midst of all this managerial mayhem, it's clear that loyalty is as rare as a unicorn in the pop music industry. 🦄 Celebrities standing up for their managers, managers standing up for their clients – it's like a bizarre version of "Family Feud" where the answers are all about who's got your back in the celebrity jungle. So, as we watch these pop stars navigate the crazy world of managers, let's remember that even in the glitziest of industries, friendships can be as fickle as a Hollywood weather forecast. ☀️🌧️ But hey, at least it's more entertaining than a reality TV show, right? Time to grab some popcorn and settle in for the next episode of "Managerial Melodrama." 🍿🎬 Read the full article

[uwuwriting]

Breaking in w/ Hawks, Shoto and Dabi

Request: I read another post about ppl breaking in your shared house with the boys not knowing that you are inside and hurting you and I was like well this would be interesting with their kids in the mix. So i'm here to provide you with the following request ppl breaking in and immobilizing you while you're still awake and they try to go into your kids’ room with Shoto, Hawks and maybe Dabi or Aizawa- anonymous 

Oh this is a nice little concept. It's very interesting. I’m happy to deliver. I have been devastated by chapter 290, if anyone hurts Shoto imma start a riot and if Dabi doesn’t kill Endeavor i will. I’m thinking of making a double post today so this one and a kny post but we’ll see. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warning: cursing, mentions of blood, crying but fluff in the end. 

Hawks/Keigo Takami

-You were waiting for Keigo to come home after a long day. 

-The twins were a nightmare to put to bed today and you were exhausted. 

-Both of them wanted Keigo to tuck them in for some weird reason and they just wouldn’t accept your cuddles or attempts. 

-So after a tiresome two hours of trying and failing to calm them down you called your husband on facetime and they went to bed. 

- “I’ll be home soon, do you want me to bring you anything?”

- “No, no just you.” 

-So after taking a shower and checking on the kids you relaxed on the couch, turning on the TV while scrolling though tik tok. 

-Not even half an hour later you heard jiggling coming through the door. 

-Assuming it was Keigo you got up and went to greet him but who you met at the entrance of your house was a complete stranger. 

-You and the two bulgars stared at each other for a solid minute before you scrambled to get to the kids’ room and lock yourself in there. 

-But one of them tackled you to the floor before you could reach the pastel colored door and pinned you down, binding your hands with a cloth. 

- “I thought you said he wasn’t here man? What is this?”

-They had tied your legs to a chair, putting a makeshift gag in your mouth so you wouldn’t scream as they bickered back and forth. 

-Your eyes kept darting from the front door to your kids’ room.

-He said he was almost home, he should be here at any moment. 

- “Just stick to the plan, she doesn’t change anything.”

- “Doesn’t change anything? You tackled the n. 2 heros’ partner and you think that nothing is gonna happen?”

-You couldn’t care less about their words as you saw the light of the baby monitor light up.

-Eyes widening, you tried to get out of your  restraints to turn it off but to no avail, the soft babbles of your son could be heard coming from the device sending the whole room into an uncomfortable silence. 

-Before you know it, the one that tackled you pushed his partner towards you. 

- “Keep her in check while I go pay a visit to the other room.” 

-Managing to get the gag out of your mouth, your eyes frantic, you tried to reason with him. 

- “I’ll give you whatever you want just stay away from that door, please.” 

- “The number 2 hero has plenty of money. I bet he would be willing to give a handsome amount for that brat in there. What do you say babycakes? 

- “Dude you’re taking it too far-” 

- “Stay away from them!” 

-You realized your mistake a little too late, the new information making the man's eyes light up.

-Two cries came from the twins’ room due to the commotion and your panic rose. 

-But then you saw it. 

-The single feather hovering over the mans’ head, as red and vibrant as ever. 

-You let out a sigh of relief as a wave of red feathers flooded your living room, cutting you free from your restraints. 

-Without missing a beat you sprinted to the door, stepping inside and locking it. 

-Both of them were awake and teary eyed but at the sight of you they calmed down a bit. 

-Taking them out of their cribs, you sat in the far corner with both of them in your lap waiting for the moment Keigo would knock on your door. 

-One would assume that being part of the hero industry, although you weren’t a full blown hero yourself, mere bulgars wouldn’t really faze you. 

-In reality you hadn’t been afraid for your own life, you couldn’t care less about yourself at that moment, but when you realized that they knew about the twins everything slowly fell apart.  

-After what seemed like an eternity a soft knock came from the locked door. 

- “Y/N, dove, open up.”

-Raising to your feet, you almost ripped the door handle out of position in your rush. 

-Once Keigo came into view you didn’t miss a beat before pressing yourself close to his chest, the twins just happy to see their dad. 

- “There are my favorite Takamis!” he said kissing their heads as his wings enclosed all of you. 

- “Dove they are gone, don’t worry. I’m here. We’re alright.” 

-The news report the next morning said that two men were found on the top of the police department butt naked. 

Todoroki Shoto

-Poor man had merely gone to get take out. 

-He hadn’t been gone for that long. 

-But apparently the villains had been waiting for him to leave the house so they could go in. 

-You were still inside with your daughters; the twins chasing each other in their matching onesies while you sat on the living room couch with your youngest.

-You heard the front door open suddenly and at first you assumed that Shoto had forgotten his wallet again.

-But the footsteps were too heavy and his voice didn’t echo through the entrance hall. 

-He always said something when he came in and his footsteps have become lighter ever since the girls were born. 

-Sensing that something was off you placed your toddler in her crib and motioned towards the twins. 

- “Stay with your sister and no matter what you hear you do NOT come into the hallway. Understood?”

- “But what-”

- “Rei do I make myself clear?” 

-Nodding their heads they took their seats in front of the crib, Ren squeezing her hand through the bars to gently grab her sister's chubby hand. 

-Taking a deep breath you entered the hallway and lo and behold, two strangers were staring back at you. 

- “Can I help you gentlemen?” 

-After a few seconds the one closest to the door flung himself at you while the other one started digging through his pockets. 

-Swiftly dodging the attack, you grabbed his wrist and swang him with incredible force to the wall, letting go of him as you turned your attention to the other one. 

-And then you felt a sharp pain course up your right leg as a heaviness settled on your chest. 

-The room began to spin while the air was knocked out of your lungs.

-You kneeled down, hand over your heart as you tried to use your quirk. 

-Nothing happened though; it was like you didn’t have one at all. 

- “Quirk cancelling bullets, aren’t they neat?” 

-The man stared down at you as ever so slowly your senses came back at you. 

- “I can still beat your ass even without a quirk.”

- “I don’t think you’ll do that.”

-Angry voices could be heard from the other room before the man you had slammed into the wall appeared again, blood dripping from his nose and onto the snow white hair of your daughter.

-Ren looked at you, tears forming in her eyes as a red flash of hair jumped onto the man. 

-Rei was having none of it.

-Taking that opportunity you kicked the one in front of you in the groin before separating the girls from the other, sprinting into the living room, closing the sliding doors behind you. 

-Laying the girls on the couch you grabbed one of the fireplace tools and got into a fighting position. 

-Soon enough the door opened revealing none other than Shoto himself.

- “Are you all alright? Did they hurt you?”

-He looked absolutely disheveled, his hair going in different directions as his gaze frantically scanned all four of you, his eyes lingering at your slightly raised leg. 

-The twins hopped off the couch and tackled his legs. 

-Shoto crouched down hugging them both tightly as they started to sniffle into their dad’s chest. 

- “T-they hurt mama and t-tried to hurt Ren.”

-He shot you a look but you waved him off, deciding to instead check on the baby before joining them on the living room floor. 

- “I won’t let them touch you ever again, even if it's the last thing I do.”

Dabi/Touya Todoroki *I ain't never letting this go*

-In reality the dudes didn’t know you were preggos. 

-You were too early on so you couldn’t tell you were preggo but still. 

-They knew that you had something going with Dabi and that’s why they wanted to fuck with you. 

-They thought that they would gain something from trying * key word trying * to take you.

-They were wrong though because a) they got their asses kicked by you and b) they got fried once Dabi found them. 

-You were chilling at Dabis’ while he was out to get you some mustard and a chocolate bar because cravings, when you heard the door open. 

-Immediately you knew it wasn’t Dabi. 

-You would’ve heard him grumbling under his breath about forgetting to take money with him * bc you have been pushing him to pay for stuff every once in a  while* or he would be shouting at you that your disgusting meal had arrived. 

-Neither of these things happened so something was up. 

-Not bothering to get up because you didn’t give two fucks, you waited for whoever stepped inside the apartment to show themselves. 

-You are a villain hun you ain’t about to stress over some crusty ass dude trespassing into your house because you could obliterate his ass from the face of the earth in negative five seconds. 

-Whispers and a frantic “But what if he comes back?” was all you heard before the ground breaking phrase left their mouth. 

- “Who cares? She’s a woman, how strong can she be anyways?”

-You were livid. 

-It might have been a mix of your hormones along with the fact that that was hella sexist but you were ready to beat some crusty ass. 

-Laying down on the couch and pretending to be asleep you waited for them. 

-And soon enough you felt the three figures standing over you. 

- “See easy as hell.” 

- “And hot as hell, please don’t forget that.” 

-All three of them stared down at you like that pikachu meme for a solid minute before scrambling to activate their quirks. 

- “We don’t wanna hurt a pretty girl like you so please don’t cause a fuss.” 

- “Oh baby you think you can hurt me? Please have you seen who I’m dating?” 

-Slowly standing up you flicked your wrist and one of them dropped to the floor. 

-You made your way to the kitchen pouring yourself a glass of water right when one of them ran into you, pinning you to the counter. 

- “Watch it there bud I’m carrying precious carg-”

- “Shut up you fucking slut! You’ll come with us whether you like it or not.” 

- “The only person who can boss me around is not currently in this room so I suggest you let go.” 

- “Yeah you should probably let her go.” 

-At the sound of his deep voice you knew that they were dead men. 

-The one basically on top of you stared at Dabi in horror as you pushed him off of you. 

-Making your way to your boyfriend you gave him a small peck while he rested a hand over you stomach as a silent ‘are you okay?’.

-Shrugging you took the bag from his hands and went into your bedroom, not caring to see what he was about to do to them. 

-You were hungry anyways. 

- “Now which one of you wants to be roasted first?”

TAG TEAM AY:

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[lokiondisneyplus]

Warning: This post contains spoilers for Loki episode 5.

The penultimate episode of Loki introduced several new variations on its titular mischief-maker — including Jack Veal's Kid Loki, Deobia Oparei's Boastful Loki, and Tom Hiddleston's ill-fated President Loki. But of all these new faces, perhaps the most memorable was Richard E. Grant's aptly-named Classic Loki — an older, world-weary version of the Asgardian god we know and love.

Decked out in the familiar green-and-yellow suit from the comics, Grant's Loki is older and perhaps a bit wiser than his younger counterparts. Years of isolation have left him disillusioned and lonely, missing his brother Thor, but that spark of mischief is still buried deep underneath — and he ultimately sacrifices himself to help Loki (Hiddleston) and Sylvie (Sophia Di Martino) escape the Void.

It's a delightful showcase for the 64-year-old Grant, who says he's thrilled to be able to carve out his own chaotic corner of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Ahead of the series finale this week, EW caught up with Grant to break down his big sacrifice — as well as his newfound friendship with Owen Wilson and his pitch for a Loki spin-off series.

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: To start, I have to ask about your costar: How was working with Alligator Loki?

RICHARD E. GRANT: Alligator Loki was fantastic because in reality, he was three stuffed sofa cushions that had been sewn roughly together to react to. [Laughs] The fact that I was the only person that could understand what he was saying was just fantastic. I think it's the perfect segue into having Classic Old Loki and Alligator Loki as a sub-series to go to next.

So it's safe to say that you would be willing to reprise this character down the line?

If I had a muscle suit, most certainly. I was denied that. I saw the costume design, and I was very familiar with Jack Kirby's original illustrations from the '60s, so I thought, "Ah, this guy's got muscles!" As I had been born without any, I was finally going to get in a muscle suit. I got to Atlanta [to begin filming], and they said, "There's no muscle suit! You're just wearing this!" I said, "But I look like Kermit the Frog!" They said, "Nope, you're not having a muscle suit." So I was very, very upset about that. [Laughs] Short-changed!

I was going to ask about your first impression when you first put on the costume!

That's what I asked: Where are the muscles? Where are the Stallone/Schwarzeneggers here? Because they're missing! This is what people will expect! This was in the costume drawing, and they're not here, and I don't have them! I was very upset.

When they first asked you to join the show, what was that initial pitch like?

I had known Tom Hiddleston socially for some years, and we'd always joked that we could feasibly play father and son because of our vague physical similarities and hairlines, certainly. So when I got this offer at the beginning of last year, before COVID, I thought, "Alright, this is that moment that I had hoped would come at some point." I thought I would play his father, but I'm playing a variant of him. So that's how that came about. I was thrilled.

Tom has been playing his version of Loki for a decade now. Did you get any guidance from him, or have any conversations with him that you found particularly helpful?

He is a walking Loki-pedia, so he was very, very informative about the whole etymology and the history of the Norse gods and Loki. He's also brilliant at imitating people. He goes on chat shows and imitates famous actors absolutely to the letter. I don't have that talent. So when I read the script of episode 5 that I was offered, I saw that [this older version of Loki] described himself in his backstory of being the god of outcasts — rather than the god of mischief, which is so absolutely embedded in Tom's interpretation of the role. So I thought, well, [if he's] the god of outcasts and is somebody who's been isolated for years and living on these planets and is willing to betray himself by going back and being arrested by the TVA and making the ultimate sacrifice, offering himself up to Asgard, I thought, well, this is somebody who is more in the twilight zone of his life, as am I. As opposed to a young man, who's full of mischief still.

So, I thought that was a way into interpreting this character, rather than trying to do — and something I couldn't possibly succeed at doing — a pale imitation of Tom Hiddleston.

I'd imagine that would be tricky, but it would also be a fun challenge: You're basically sharing scenes with all these different versions of the same character.

Exactly right. And I love the fact that he was the one person who could communicate with the alligator. I love that.

So would you now consider yourself fluent in alligator?

Indeed. I am the Doctor Dolittle of the Marvel universe when it comes to speaking to alligators. I speak alligator fluently. Put that in the contract of when I'm doing a series as Classic Old Loki, with muscles and the alligator. It'll have subtitles, so the audience can hear what the alligator is saying, and everyone else is saying, "What is he saying? What is he talking about?" That'll be the way.

I also wanted to ask about your big finale, where we see your Loki conjure Asgard. What do you remember most about filming that final moment?

Huge wind machines, blue screen in every direction, and following a camera on a crane that was maneuvering around the ceiling of the studio, and then swooping down. I was having to shout at it, and then finally laugh in the face of my own immolation. So it was a great thing to do, with these huge air turbine wind machines that were blowing four tons of air at me from every direction. It was exhilarating.

Did you have any practical elements around you at all, or did you have to imagine and conjure it all yourself?

Most of it you had to imagine. The actual landscape that you walked on was real grass and this sort of rocky landscape, but all the other elements — all the ships and all that stuff — was put in afterwards. We didn't see any of that.

The Loki palace that looked like a sort of bowling alley, that was all for real. Everything that you see in that scene was actually built and practical.

Was it chaotic to film in the bowling alley with all those different versions of Loki, bickering and bantering?

Because there was so much action involved, it was paint-dryingly slow, because action takes much longer to do than five pages of dialogue. I prefer talking, as I'm not exactly an action man, as you can see. [Laughs]

Was there anything about joining the Marvel universe that you weren't expecting or that really surprised you?

I didn't expect to find true love with Owen Wilson. We're having a surrogate baby together in October.

Oh, congratulations!

He was just so hilarious to work with. He's just one of the greatest characters I've ever met. He is so open and curious and amenable, with this sort of dry sense of humor. There seemed to be no divide between Owen Wilson acting his part and then just being Owen Wilson. I don't know if he was scamming me, but he was an absolute delight. I loved him.

Was there a particularly memorable day on set with him?

Yes, when we conceived our twins. [Laughs] No, my daughter encouraged me to post this thing on Twitter and Instagram, where he said, "Richard, I'm going to give you some acting advice. Put your camera on." I said, "Yes, okay!" I owe him for that because it got like 640,000 views already in a few days, which on my Instagram feed is off the chart. It's nothing for Beyoncé, but for mine, I'm pretty gobsmacked.

[troubatrain]

four times you talked about having a baby + one time you did - k. hayes

a/n: here’s a very cute fluffy 4+1 from my old blog! :)

I.

You watched Kevin on the floor, listening to the babbling toddler in front of him, laughing along with whatever his niece was trying to tell him. His sister had made the trip down to New York, and was out getting lunch with a friend while you and Kevin had offered to babysit. It was the first time you were meeting any members of his family, and you’d only been dating for a few months - but watching Kevin with his niece was doing something to you.

You pull your phone out of your pocket, snapping a photo of the two, “This is too cute.”

“You’re too cute,” Kevin says instantly, his niece walking over to you to be picked up, a grin finding its way to Kevin’s face.

You pick her up kissing the top of her forehead, “I think she’s cuter than both of us.”

You spend the rest of the afternoon in Kevin’s apartment, playing house with his niece. Watching Kevin run around his apartment with his niece was straight up endearing, and you were happy that she liked you too. She’d fallen asleep snuggled between you and Kevin, a couple of goldfish stuck to her Uncle’s shirt and she rested on your lap. By the time Kevin’s sister and her headed back to their hotel, you were absolutely exhausted - not even considering the idea of headed to your own place and opting to crash at Kevin’s.

“Do you think you want kids?” Kevin asks, plopping down next to you into bed, blue eyes looking at you full of hope.

You’d never really thought much about having kids, just thinking that at the time you were too young. It was something you wanted one day but you didn’t know when you wanted that. You’d just started your career and your relationship with Kevin was new but the way he took care of his niece and the way he always took care of you was starting to make you think a little differently.

“Yeah, one day. Don’t get any ideas though,” You scold, waving your finger at Kevin.

“I know, but one day sounds good,” Kevin says, pulling you into his chest.

Kevin lulls you to sleep that night, talking about the future he wants with you. You’d get married, Kevin would prefer in Boston but he’d let you pick regardless. Maybe you’d move to the suburbs, get a house outside of the city with a yard, so you could have some space for your future children. But he told you he’d be okay staying in the city if that’s what you wanted to do. It was romantic to hear him talk about your future like that, deciding that he would just come for the ride.

II.

Kevin’s large hands were tying your skates, while you looked down at him in his stall at MSG. It was Christmas and with Christmas came the family skate that you’d grown to love. The first year, you were terrified, considering you didn’t even know how to skate and you’d only met a handful of Kevin’s teammates.

“Do you think this will be our last one here?” You whisper, low enough so none of his teammates would hear you.

It was a thought that you’d tried to push out of your mind but there was no way you could at this point. The trade deadline was coming in a few months and Kevin was certain he’d be on the trading block. You’d pushed him to talk about it about tons of times but he kept putting it off, knowing he was nervous about a move out of New York.

“If it is, we’ll make it a memorable one,” Kevin places a kiss to your lips, pulling you up to step out onto the ice. 

You watch as Kevin skates around the ice, Marc Staal’s kids chasing after him in the intense game of tag they’d been playing, while you smile at him from the bench.

“He’s so good with them,” Lindsay, Marc’s wife, says to you on the bench, “I think they’re going to miss him if you guys go.”

You nod, know how many dinners Kevin’s had at their place long before you’d even started dating, “I know it’s going to happen but, we haven’t even talked about it.”

“You’d go with him no?” Lindsay asks, trying to gauge how you actually felt about it.

“I mean, yes, he’s the one but-” You start to say only to be interrupted by the woman next to you.

“Just talk to him about it,” Lindsay says, “I’m sure you guys will be okay”

That night you’d been sitting in your shared apartment, a rerun of some terrible reality TV rerun playing in front of you. Kevin was out grabbing ice cream, insisting you spent the night off snuggled up with a movie. Your mind wanders to the conversation you’d had the family skate, and how you felt watching Kevin skate around with Marc’s kids. It was what you wanted and you knew you wanted it with Kevin but you were scared of the future. You’d been so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even hear Kevin walk back into the apartment. A pint of ice cream finding its way into your hands.

“Hey Kev?” You ask, your voice small, “What are we going to do if you get traded.”

Kevin looked confused, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, am I going to stay here or do you want me to go with you?” You ask bluntly, deciding to just get to the root of what’s bothering you.

Kevin takes a deep breath, walking out of the room and into your shared bedroom. You can hear him rummaging through a dresser, or it could have been a nightstand and step back into your living room with a velvet box in his hand.

“I was planning on doing a better job at his, you know, I was going to plan a nice dinner, make sure you’d just gotten your nails done, the whole thing but I think I need to do this now,” Kevin says, dropping down to one knee, “Baby I love you, and I want to be with you. I want to have a family with you, and spend the rest of my life with you by my side - wherever that may take me. Will you marry me?”

You nod, tears threatening to spill from your eyes, flinging yourself forward to kiss Kevin, over and over again, “Did you actually just do that?”

Kevin smiles against your lips, “I’ve been hiding that since the summer.”

You pull back smiling at the man in front of you, “I can’t wait to marry you.”

Kevin grins back at you, “I can’t wait to have a family, we could be like Marc and Lindsay with all those kids running around the ice.”

The idea seemed like a dream to you, but in reality you were getting to live that life with a man who loved and cared about you. Kevin spends the night talking about your future, the plans seeming more definite than the first time he’d done that. Settling on having three kids, and a summer wedding - even mentioning you could get a dog even though he was afraid of them.

III.

You’d ended up following Kevin to Winnipeg and then to Philly easily. You’d been making an adjustment, but Philadeliphia was starting to feel like home more and more everyday. Kevin was happy and he loved his new team - which made it easier for you to follow suit. You’d both started to become acquainted with the city and you knew this was going to be a good place for the two of you.

You bounce the baby on your lip, singing a nursery rhyme while moving around your kitchen, causing Gavin to laugh. You’d ended up babysitting, Claude’s wife, Ryanne, calling you last minute to complain about their sitter canceling their date night. You and Kevin had agreed on a night in, so you offered to take their son for a few hours. You loved Gavin, and quite honestly you spend more time at games playing with him than paying attention to your fiance on the ice.

“I think we should have a boy first,” Kevin says, sitting on the island watching you with the baby.

“I don’t think that’s for us to decide Kev,” You joke, blowing raspberries into Gavin’s cheek, causing the baby to giggle, “Right Gav, tell him, he’ll be happy with what he gets.”

“What do you want?” Kevin asks, holding his arms out for you to pass him the baby.

“A boy doesn’t sound too bad,” You admit, thinking about how many outfits you’d bought for Gavin that you’d love hanging up in a nursery of your own, “What brought this up?”

“You know, we’re getting married soon, and you just look really good singing nursery rhymes in our kitchen,” Kevin admits, “And c’mon you don’t want a little me running around?”

Kevin holds Gavin next to his face with a pout, rubbing his beard onto the baby’s cheeks causing him to giggle and wiggle in Kevin’s enormous hands. It was a sight for sure, and one that often made you think about just letting Kevin knock you up before the wedding.

“I’m not going to be pregnant at our wedding,” You scold, “I’ve spent too much time planning to not be able to drink.”

“You’ve got a good point, we’ll make a honeymoon baby,” Kevin assures you, as if you had a choice.

IV.

Newlywed life was coming to a halting stop the second you touched down in Philadelphia. The summer of bliss that you’d just experienced was about to be burst in with the reality of a new season starting. You’d bought a new place, the space in the city was far more family friendly than the apartment you’d been living in last season. There were plenty of bedrooms, and some outdoor space that still resided in the city. You’d finally finished unpacking, stepping back after hanging up the last of your wedding photos in the living room.

“They look good there,” Kevin says, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you off the couch, spinning you around, “You were right, I do like this place.”

Kevin wasn’t entirely on board with moving, but you knew he wanted to start a family and you wanted somewhere in Philly that you would come back to - a real permanent home. It took a little convincing but you managed to get him to crack while you were on your honeymoon.

You had one surprise that came with the house, and it sat in a box in your kitchen. Inside was a pregnancy test - that you’d taken a day before you moved down to Philly for the season. A very tiny jersey, with your now shared last name on the back, a bright number thirteen stitched onto the back. And to complete a very small stuffed Gritty that you had bought on impulse one day. You were excited to finally share the news with Kevin, keeping it a secret while you both handled all the craziness that came with moving and training camp coming up.

“I have something for you,” You say, slipping out of his arms and grabbing the box from the kitchen - dropping it into his lap, “Open it.”

You were on the edge of your seat watching him open the box and pulling the small jersey out, looking down at what was underneath it, “You’re pregnant?”

“I’m pregnant,” You confirm, placing your hand over your stomach.

“You, my wife, you’re pregnant, we’re having a baby,” Kevin blurted out, a goofy grin gracing his face, “Baby, we’re having a baby!”

You laugh, knowing this is the exact reaction you’d get out of your husband, “I take it you’re happy?”

“Easily the best thing that’s happened to me,” Kevin says, grabbing both sides of your face and kissing you over and over again. He spent the next week telling everybody he came in contact with that he was, in fact, having a baby.

Plus One

You hear a large crash, and a chorus of laughs coming from what was supposed to be your future son’s nursery. You sigh, curling your hands around the def-caf tea you’d been drinking, counting down the days until you actually start drinking coffee again, and you walk into the room, a piece of what was supposed to be a crib on the floor, and TK, Nolan and Kevin’s eyes staring at you.

“Sorry,” They all said in unison, guilt across their faces.

You give them a smile, “It’s fine guys, please be careful, and get this done.”

You decided to stay in Philly until you had the baby, the season ending when you’d hit around eight months and the stress of heading up back to Boston just seemed like too much at the time. Now, you were a week until your due date and you and Kevin had pushed everything till now in regards to setting up a place for your son. It was starting to stress you out, and honestly you were grateful for Travis and Nolan’s help, even if it was like having two kids in your house already.

You felt your stomach cramp up and a feeling in your stomach that this baby was coming, you gasp and look at Kevin, your eyes scared, “Kev - I think it’s happening.”

--

Nine hours of labor later, your son entered the world in a way somehow more chaotic than the way Kevin entered your life. Kevin did good, keeping his cool for most of your pregnancy and labor that you were honestly surprised. He finally cried, when he held your baby for the first time, calmly talking to the little boy who he loved probably more than he loved you. You got lucky, in all the craziness of what was going on, Travis and Nolan stayed back and somehow put together all of your furniture in the nursery, even leaving a few gifts behind for your baby boy.

“Thank you for this,” Kevin confesses, the two of you and your son being the only people left in the hospital room, exhausted from the day of visitors, “I mean I knew we’d get here, but I’m grateful we actually did.”

“I hope you’re still grateful when you have to change diapers at 3 am,” You say, knowing the hard part was definitely coming.

“I promised I’d do it, and I will,” Kevin assures you, intending on keeping the promise that you carried that baby for nine months and that he would take on the middle of the night diaper duties.

And you fell asleep that night like you did so many nights before, Kevin rambling about your future, all the things he wants to teach his son. How he can’t wait to teach him to skate, and how he can play whatever sport he wants - or it would be fine if he didn’t play sports at all. Kevin’s voice lulled you and your little family to sleep - and you knew he’d do that forever.

[alolowrites]

Everyone’s Got a Sweet Tooth!

Summary: Bakugou hates sweets. You don’t think this is true and begin a mission to discover his favorite candy. After all, you are the brilliant Candy Master who won’t stop until Bakugou’s sweet tooth is satisfied.

Author’s Note: Hello everyone! I’m so glad I was finally able to write a full fic for Bakugou; it’s been so long. Originally, this was supposed to be for the bingo event, but had trouble fleshing out the story’s direction. I really wanted to write this story since the plot was hilarious to me, idk why. 

Please enjoy!

10.30.21 UPDATE: HI!!!!! I went back and edited the heck out of this baby since it’s my favorite Bakugou story I’ve written. I hope it is now decent lmao. Happy Halloween!! 

Word Count: 2.4K+

“Katsuki, what is the meaning of all this?!”

“The hell are you talkin’ bout?”

“This!” 

You marched with purpose and plopped down on the couch where he sat. Bakugou remained unfazed, clicking on the remote control. He mindlessly surfed through the channels with an attention span of an HR recruiter combing through a mountain pile of resumes. Stupid sitcoms, fake ass “reality” tv shows, QVC advertising their products like it's Black Friday all day, every day. Bakugou frowned—why does he pay so much for these useless channels? 

His eyes teared away from the screen as the phone waved frantically on his left. 

You huffed. “According to Maximus Heroes, you—and I quote—‘bleeping hate sweets!’”

Bakugou clicked his tongue. “Damn idiots censored my words.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what is?”

“That you hate sweets!” 

You viciously smacked a pillow at him, ignoring his yells. Bakugou snatched the weapon with a growl. For a soft pillow, it felt like a firm foam roller. You stood up and paced around, arms flailing in the air. 

“How can my boyfriend say such a thing?!” You pointed at your signature black top hat. “Do you know who I am? I’m the lovable Candy Master, CEO of the Candy Basket Factory!” 

Bakugou shrugged. “So?”

“So, you can’t say you hate sweets!” You gripped your chest, sniffling a bit. “I feel as though I’ve been betrayed.”

“Would you sit your ass down?” 

Bakugou tossed the pillow at you and crossed his arm; he was too tired to deal with this nonsense. Somehow the QVC channel looked more appealing now. You begrudgingly plopped on the couch, a small pout growing on your face. Bakugou snuck a glance and sighed, tossing the remote aside. 

“Are you seriously so upset about this?” Instant regret flooded through his mind as he remembered that ridiculous day. “It was a freakin’ answer to a stupid question in a stupid celebrity article.” 

“…maybe…”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. You took off your signature hat and examined it; the hat was firm yet soft and had three peppermint candies artistically attached like a beautiful brooch. You moped silently for an eternity until an exciting idea rushed into your mind. Bakugou jumped as you squealed, his mouth ready for snarl, but you beat him to the punch. 

“I got it!” Two hands eagerly cupped his sharp cheeks, your whimsical eyes meeting his feral ones. They did nothing to damper your beaming smile. “You don’t hate sweets; you just haven’t found your favorite candy!”

Bakugou grabbed your wrist yet didn’t pull them away. Another giggle rang throughout the living room as you shot up from the sofa. A specific look crossed your face—one that both irked and frightened Bakugou to no end; he was through dealing with your shenanigans. 

“Whatever you’re thinkin’ about, the answer is no!”

“Too late! The mind is churning,” you piped, taking a cheerful step toward the doorway. Spinning on your heel, you gave a hat tip to Bakugou and declared, “I won’t rest until that sweet tooth of yours is satisfied!” 

Yup, it was too late. Bakugou had no choice but to go along with this dumb idea. Closing his eyes, he slammed a pillow over his face and screamed.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Ground Zero’s hero agency was buzzing with life. Phones rang off the hook, yet all were answered to avoid the voicemail machine. Interns carried endless stacks of papers, their dying arms begging for relief and fingers stinging from brutal paper cuts. The afternoon shift sidekicks clocked in their arrival while the morning ones yawned out the door.

Everything ran like a well-oiled machine, just how Bakugou liked it. He took great pride in this, hiring only the best and brightest. However, none of them held a candle against him—the number two pro hero. Unfortunately, being a prominent hero brought lots of reports he needed to sign.

And he was not excited about this.

“Um, sir?”

“Damnit, Small Head,” Bakugou growled, halting his pen’s movement. Fiery eyes glared at the man peeking around the ajar door. “If you bring me another paper to sign, I will stab this pen in your damn eye!”

“I-I assure you that I bring no reports, sir!” Kioshi, Bakugou’s personal assistant, waddled inside the office, fixing the tie that was strangling his neck. He slid a peculiar package toward his boss and bowed his head. “You have a special delivery from the Candy Master.”  

Bakugou scrunched his eyebrows. On his desk was a white box with an orange ribbon wrapped neatly in the upper left corner. A tiny card sat underneath it, and with closer inspection, had his first name written across in gold letters. Bakugou shooed Kioshi away, waiting to hear the door close to ensure absolute privacy.

At first, Bakugou had a mini stare-down with the gift. When it didn’t burst into flames, he sucked his breath and snatched the card. Bakugou turned it around to read the following message:

Everyone knows you got a sour attitude, but only I get to see that sweet side of yours. Figured these treats might do the trick. I made them just for you!

Enjoy,

C.M

P.S. These are an ~exclusive~ batch from my top-secret collection! So hush-hush!

Bakugou snorted at your writing, tossing the card aside and opening the box. His eyes narrowed at the vibrant gumdrops nestled above the black tissue paper. White sugar lightly coated the green and orange candies, each twinkling under the natural light that shined through his large window. A smirk curled on his lips; the whole package reflected his hero costume.

“Let’s see how good these are.”

Bakugou ate the green gumdrop. It was chewy and sour, the lime flavor making him twitch a bit. The sweetness kicked in ten seconds later. Bakugou tried the orange gumdrop next, and the acid was strong too but enjoyable. He soon devoured the entire box in one sitting.

Once that was done, he marched out of the office to start his daily patrol. It didn’t take long for a stupid thug to cross his path. Bakugou slammed him against the concrete wall, hauling him up with just one hand. The man trembled in fear but stopped squirming and cocked his head to the side, dumbfounded. 

Bakugou growled. “What the hell are you looking at?”

“Your tongue...it got weird colors, man.”

“Eh? The fuck are you talking ‘bout?” 

Bakugou peeked at his reflection on the store’s window. He recoiled when he saw the horrible swirls of green and orange covering his tongue. A vicious scowl crossed Bakugou’s face, his iron grip tightening around the thug’s collar. The guy’s high-pitched yelps fell on deaf ears. 

“Fuckin’ gumdrops!”

They were crossed off the list.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

“I don’t want it.”

“But, sir, the gift—”

“I know who it’s from, and I’m telling you no.”

“Sir,” Kioshi gripped the massive, cherry red treat in his hand. A black ribbon with long strings almost reached the floor. The assistant sighed. “It’s just a lollipop.”

“Do I look like a fuckin’ baby to ya?” Bakugou crossed his arms, refusing to budge on his childish decision. The irony made Kioshi roll his eyes mentally. “Give it away or something. Now get out.”

“Yes, sir…”

Lollipops were crossed off the list.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Another day, another gift Bakugou received from you.

They came sporadically and kept the hero on his toes. He never understood why you sent the gifts directly to his office; you both lived in the same apartment for crying out loud! Worst of all, he could never get a single hint on what candy he would receive next. Every time he asked—or more accurately, demanded—you shot him a coy smile and purred, “Ah, ah, ah! It’s a surprise!”

Bakugou wanted to rip his eyeballs out.

However, he reluctantly played along with your stupid game. Whenever Kioshi entered his office, Bakugou masked his slight interest with the usual scowl. If the assistant didn’t bring candy, then Bakugou blamed him for interrupting his private time. The anger was worse if Kioshi brought more reports for him to sign.

Kioshi was thankful for the days when a new candy gift arrived.

Unfortunately, the last three gifts were complete failures. The first was the strawberry licorice, which dangled in Bakugou’s hand. He took a few bites and complained that he was eating a rubber wheel. Next was a bag of colorful gummy worms. Bakugou shoved a couple in his mouth and swore he felt one of them move on its own. Finally, there was the lemon green jawbreaker; it was the size of a baseball. One look and Bakugou shouted over the phone: “You tryna give me dentures?!”

All three candies were crossed off the list. Still, you didn’t give up and sent another gift to Bakugou. He read the simple message on the card:

Chew and blow to your heart’s content, babe!

Love,

C.M

P.S. I promise this won’t change the color on your tongue, haha!

Bakugou opened the sleek, rectangular box and found a bubble gum packet inside; there were three thin pieces. He slipped one in his mouth, surprisingly pleased with the bold raspberry flavor hitting his taste buds. Bakugou skimmed the card again and did as instructed—he chewed.

Typically, an ordinary bubble gum would lose its flavor after five minutes. But the flavor in your gum only got juicier; it encouraged Bakugou to continue chewing. He then blew a tiny bubble before popping it in his mouth. Not bad, he thought as another bubble expanded in front of him. His chews became more aggressive, and the bubbles more prominent than the previous ones. Stupidly, he puffed out a massive bubble, and it grew…

…and grew…and grew until there was a loud pop.

Bakugou’s roars shook the entire building, spilling cold tea all over Kioshi’s shirt. 

Bubble gum was crossed off the list.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Everything was going well down at the Candy Basket Factory. People lined up outside for the magical tours that ran every hour. Kids bounced off the walls as if they were on a sugar rush while their parents felt a migraine pounding on their heads. Inside the factory, the ceilings were high, and the walls were vibrant like the sun. Laughter rang from every corner as employees chit-chatted about their daily lives; they were relaxed yet efficiently worked to the same drumbeat.

A soft smile crept on your face. You were glad everyone was happy; it was the driving force behind your factory’s joyful spirit. Eventually, that spirit would leave these doors and touch billions of people’s hearts with your precious candies.

Just as you closed your eyes, someone barged into your office and barked your name. You chuckled, spinning the leather chair around to meet a furious Bakugou. His nostrils flared like a bull, and his menacing eyes looked ready to kill. However, the gum’s blobs stuck on his porcupine blonde hair squashed the pro hero’s intimidating aura.

“You—”

“—I’m so sorry, boss!” Nozomi panted into the room, hands on her knees as she caught her breath. “I tried stopping him, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“It’s quite alright, Zomi!” You chirped without breaking Bakugou’s intense eye contact. “I can handle him. Please let everyone know I’ll be busy with an important meeting.”

Nozomi bowed and closed the door behind her. Bakugou wasted no time complaining, his hands slamming on your desk. 

“Quit sending me your cavity-infested garbage! I’ve had it with this fuckin’ game.”

“Oh, come on, babe!” You rolled forward and rested your chin on your gloved hand palm. “Can’t I just send my dashing boyfriend some sweet gifts? Get it!” You jokingly slapped his forearm. “Because candies are sweet? Man, I crack myself up at times…”

“You’re insufferable.”  

You winked at him. “But that’s what you love about me!”

Bakugou gritted his teeth and looked away. A light blush tainted his cheeks; he hated how right you were. You walked around the desk and stood beside him, wiping off the fairy sugar dust on his shirt. He probably barged through the sample stand near the entrance, scaring off the poor intern. 

“Alright, alright.” You gave a gentle pat. “Sorry for going a little overboard with the gifts. I was just excited about finding your favorite candy! I don’t want you hating them.”

Bakugou’s anger subsided. “Why is this so damn important to you?”

“Because I love spreading endless joy through sweets.” 

The answer was simple and innocent. Bakugou blinked and was taken aback by the gentleness in your eyes. 

“Candy makes everyone happy,” you chirped. “Knowing someone’s favorite candy helps me bring their smile back whenever they’re upset or lost. Can’t have the world be all mopey now, can we?”

Your fingers hovered above Bakugou’s head. The gum moved under your command and floated in the air. You flicked it into the trash bin with ease, and Bakugou murmured a quick ‘thanks’ under his breath. After ruffling his hair, you suddenly remembered something sitting on your shelf. Bakugou stared at the small pyramid of chocolate truffles coming toward him.

“I made these babies a few minutes ago,” you said, eying the plate with a proud grin. “Normally, I do a taste test and then send the gift if it satisfies my expectations. But, I got a feeling you’ll love them.”  

Bakugou’s face was unreadable. You gave him a gentle nudge and encouraged him to take one. He sighed before picking a chocolate truffle; it was warm and soft, the cocoa powder dusting his fingertips. After suspiciously staring at the truffle, he ate the entire thing in one go. His eyes widened as all the flavors exploded at once. The crushed red pepper flakes, the hints of rich cinnamon and orange zest, and the bittersweet dark chocolate made from the finest quality found on Earth all danced perfectly together with every bite. 

“So…” You placed the plate on the desk, watching Bakugou swallow the truffle down. “What do you think? Give me your honest opinion! Don’t sugarcoat it, haha! I’m on fire today!”

Bakugou turned away. “I’m leaving.”

“No, wait!” You hugged his bicep with a pout. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop. Just tell me if you liked the chocolate truffles.”  

“They’re good.”

Your smile grew. “Good enough to be your favorite?”

“Sure,” he smirked, shoving another truffle into his mouth. You cheered on the spot after weeks of constant failures. Of course, some of the complaints were nonsense which didn’t surprise you. Bakugou was a picky bastard; the lollipop fiasco served as a great example. You were glad he thoroughly enjoyed the chocolate truffles.

Before you walked away, Bakugou pulled you close to him and crushed his lips on yours. He caught you off guard, but the surprise was certainly welcomed. You soon melted into the kiss after tasting the rich dark chocolate and spices on his lips. Bakugou’s arms snaked around your waist as your hands gripped his broad shoulders.

“You know,” Bakugou’s hot breath tickled your right ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I think I got a new favorite candy.”

“Is that so?” You hummed, a coy smile plastered on your face. 

“Let’s hope it satisfies your sweet tooth then, Ground Zero.”

“Oh, it will.”

After all, you were the one and only Candy Master.

As always, thanks for reading!

10.18.20 UPDATE: Story’s sequel, Gold Coins and a Gold Heart now uploaded. 

[ficsforeren]

First of all, hiiiiii! How are you doing? I missed you! I hope you’re well and your baby is doing well too. So I’m not really big on zombie apocalypse settings because I’m a wimp and I get scared easily. But is there a happy ending there where… you know like Eren or the reader don’t die and end up happy together. Or because it’s based off of that Will Smith movie then Eren is going to die and then they find out there’s actually a larger community of human beings than expected and at least Eren dies knowing Y/N is safe

And so I have a theory about The Lies We Told. You said no happy ending right? It’s mentioned that Y/N’s great great grandfather wiped out Eren’s family. And now all of a sudden Eren ends up near the castle with his memory wiped and he’s badly injured? So what if the original plan was to send Eren to infiltrate the castle or I don’t know he was supposed to kill off the royal family. Now all of a sudden he gets injured and he lost his memory. So the original plan is out the window because Eren is now in love with Princess Y/N. Aside from the whole love triangle thing with Armin, what’s gonna happen if or when Eren gets his memory back? Are there more Jaegers or enemies of the royal family plotting to wipe them out? Oh my god, does Y/N end up dying in Eren’s arms? Cause Eren did request from King Erwin that all he wanted was to be with his daughter…

The last song broke me and in the original ending Eren died so for your knight!Eren series would Y/N die this time? Or would that be too predictable. Or would you pull something similar to the manga where Eren dies at the hands of the one he loved the most and wow I can just go on and on.

Let me just end off with thanking you for the last song spin off. I really needed that happy ending where Eren doesn’t die and gets to see his kids grow up and be with the love of his life. And most of all, I get to imagine where Eren is in love with me and we have a stable home life

I’ve noticed you’ve been popping out fics left and right. I hope you’re prioritizing your health and getting plenty of rest. Do you also have any tips for writer’s block? I‘ve been struggling with it for months and it’s just been a road block.

Anyway, sorry for the spiel. But bottomline I hope you’re doing well and taking care of yourself!

HELLO THERE, DARLING!!!! I'm so so so so sooooo sorry for the late reply omg I keep answering my new asks instead of my older ones I'm so stupid forgive me 😭😭😭

let me start by saying THANK YOU FOR THE LONG MESSAGE AAAHHHHHH I LOVE THIS I LOVE YOU YOU ARE SO PRECIOUS

I've been well, thank you for asking! I hope you are too ❤️

omg you don't have to read it if zombie au isn't your cup of tea, darling, I can understand why it would be scary! I tried my best to not make it scary though. I've been focusing more on the fluffy, slice-of-life parts where they get to be besties and fall in love and everything. as for the ending, I can't say anything yet because I don't want to spoil it to my readers but if you're expecting a happy ending... well, remember that I'm kanayama. I'm allergic to happy endings, apparently 💀

your theory for the lies we told? close, but not quite. I wish I could tell you the whole thing but I have to keep my lips shut for now. Thank you for sharing your theories though! It's very interesting to see my readers coming up with theories for my fics lmaoooo

you're very welcome, darling! I'm glad you liked In Another Life! I hope I could post another chapter soon. I'm trying to finish Never Let Me Go atm but after that, maybe I can go back to rockstar eren hehe

tips for writer's block? umm well every time I have one i just close my macbook and watch movies/tv shows instead. it can take my mind off things and i can get some inspirations from there so i'll feel motivated to write again. just remember not to force yourself to write. writing, for me especially, is supposed to be a way for you to escape reality. it's a stress-relief so what's the point of writing if it will only make you feel even more stressed? just do it when you feel like it ❤️

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Come Over | Elijah Mikaelson

Hey Lovelies! This is my first post on this profile! If you're curious feel free to pop over to my other handle: @sweetpeasgirl where i write for riverdale! However this blog is for all fandoms! It's all very exciting and I am happy to take on a new project. Anyway this is my first time writing for Elijah/TVD/TO so I hope its good! Also my first smut oh no oh god. Lemme know what you think!

Description: Based on the song "Come Over" by Sam Hunt. Y/n finds out Elijah Mikaelson is a vampire in the worst way possible. She freaks out and runs. Elijah follows after. It comes to a crossroads at her apartment.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! NSFW, Smut (oral female receiving), 18+ (I feel obligated to say it ;) )

Word count: 3413

Tags: fluff, some angst, SMUT

(Photos not mine but mood board is :) )

I turn the TV off, to turn it on again

Staring at the blades of the fan as it spins around

The clock on your nightstand reads 11:34. The remote control is heavy in your hand. Nothing on the TV is interesting to you even slightly right now. Your room is sweltering and dark. Your bed is a mess, the comforter crinkled and shoved to the foot. Messy beds are always more uncomfortable. Any day but today you would care.

You glance down at your phone, not surprised in the slightest to see another missed call. That makes 22. Almost a new record. Two more and he’ll start a new one. That’s just his type. Persistent. It’s why you fell in love with him. He didn’t give up. You sigh and block the call, placing the phone face down on the nightstand. Your whole body feels hot.

Clicking again on the remote, you come across a reality show. It's trashy, the accents are harsh, it screams “daddy’s money”. It’s perfect. Maybe it’ll be enough to take your mind off of the events of this evening. Off of him. The girl on the show runs into the arms of a handsome man. You turn the TV off almost as fast as you had turned it on.

You had been picturing tonight in your head for a week. The Mikaelson Ball. Dining and dancing and elegance. Nothing your usual life regularly allowed. It was supposed to be special. The invitation alone was magnificent enough to make you swoon. The dress had almost made you faint. The necklace did. It was all perfect. He was perfect. And then it wasn’t.

Your phone buzzes again on the nightstand. You forgot to turn it off. Or maybe you left it on purpose. Your head feels fuzzy, though, and you don’t want to think about it. You wish his face would get out of your mind. Your eyes drift to the fan above you and you try to count the blades as they go around and around. You lose track easily, and you don’t care. It doesn’t do anything to soothe your molten skin.

Counting every crack, the clock is wide awake

Talking to myself, anything to make a sound

You pick the phone up once more, ready to scream at it. Every part of you feels like it's on fire and seeing his name on the screen pushes you over the edge. You don’t know what you did to get tangled in all of this but you’re ready to claw your throat out. Instead, you throw the phone as hard as you can against the pile of comforters. It stops buzzing but your skin is still sticky. You feel sick to your stomach.

“Why did you pick me, why couldn’t it have been someone else,” your tone is harsh but it’s not like he can hear you, “it hurts Eli. Make it stop. Please!”

Your voice is barely a whisper and it turns to cries quickly as the anger dies out. All you can see, swirling around the depths of your mind, are his fangs. The way his brown eyes died to a blackness. The stark veins against his sculpted cheeks. He had looked every bit as beautiful as ever. Still elegant, still handsome. Still Elijah. But dark. Dangerous. That’s what scared you. Elijah was still Elijah when he was ripping a heart from a chest.

It felt like a blur when you saw it. One minute he had his hand on the small of your back. You had been taking a stroll in the garden. It was like nothing you had ever seen before. Beautiful hedge walls and roses of all different colours and a magnolia tree like you had only ever imagined. The moon wasn’t quite full over your heads. He was finally about to kiss you, something you had been silently pleading for for months now. Before his lips could touch yours, though, there was a hand around your throat. It had squeezed to the point of you almost passing out before Elijah had time to rip you away from your attacker. You didn’t see him move, you just saw his hand break through the mans sternum and rip his beating heart out of his chest. As soon as you saw his face, his eyes, you bolted.

“I’m scared, Eli. I miss you. I’m scared that I miss you and a thousand other things. I need you.”

You look at the dress hanging on the back of your door. At one point it was a delicate, pale pink number. It had off the shoulder straps that, really, had no point but were beautiful. There was satin cream ribbon to lace up the back and the sweetest of sweetheart necklines. Now it was splattered in blood, the satin ribbons stained. One of the sleeves had ripped when you ran. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever owned and it was ruined in less than an hour. Fairytales were supposed to end at midnight, not nine o'clock.

“I wish you would come over.” You mean it.

You just want him to explain. To show up and sweep you off your feet and tell you that he won’t hurt you. You shouldn't even need the reassurance. You know him. That's your Elijah. Somewhere deep down you know that. But it's not making you any less afraid right now. He had been protecting you, but no one has ever ripped out a heart for you before. You’re allowed to be afraid of new things. You’re allowed to be afraid of things that are frightening. That’s what being human is. You still feel like a traitor, though, when you feel afraid of Elijah.

Your voice is silent in the darkness, “I wish you could hear me. Come over, Elijah.”

Your phone beeped. You pick it up in time to read the screen. Call ended.

I told you I wouldn't call, I told you I wouldn't care

But baby climbing the walls gets me nowhere

Call ended. Call ended 12:43. Twelve minutes and forty-three seconds. Elijah had been on the phone with you for almost thirteen minutes. Crap.

You think about how far away the Mikaelson mansion is from your apartment. Twenty minutes tops, and that’s your driving. Elijah’s driving? Ten, if you’re lucky. You could try to reason with yourself. Maybe he hadn't heard you. Maybe he doesn't want to see you. Maybe he hung up because he got tired of hearing you whine. You can’t help the dry laugh that falls from your lips. It’s Elijah. You probably only have five minutes now.

You jump to your feet and begin making your bed, your pulse thumping loud once more in your ears. He’s been in your apartment before, but that was when he was just Elijah. Not the Elijah with fangs and black eyes. Now he’s different. Mysterious. Who knows what he’s seen. What he’s done. You never thought your apparent was shabby by any means but would he? You know your life can’t compare to the wonders he’s most definitely seen.

You move to the kitchen, which is, by default, the living room as well, and begin picking up mugs and newspapers and anything else out of order that you can see. You sneak a quick glance out your kitchen window, into the parking lot below, just in time to see a sleek black car speed into one of the only available spots left. You can hear the engine purr from your fourth floor apartment. You know exactly whose car that is and thus aren't surprised when Elijah Mikaelson steps out from the drivers side and slams the door shut, not even bothering to lock the door. You gasp at the bang the metal makes and his head whips up, his eyes locking with yours from the ground.

You close your eyes for just a second. There's no way he could have heard that. When you look back to the ground, he’s gone. Before you can sigh there's a knock at the door.

I don’t think that I can take this bed getting any colder

Come over, come over, come over, come over, come over

You move to the door but you don’t open it. You place your palm on the wood trim and try to picture the man on the other side. He’ll look like Elijah. He’ll smell like Elijah and probably talk like Elijah, too. But is he still the same Elijah?

“Y/n, I know you’re there, open the door. Please?” His voice sounds the same, his accent penetrating the barrier between you and tickling your ears.

“Elijah,” your voice is but a whisper and you know you should be the only one who can hear it, “I’m scared.”

“I know, love, that’s ok. I won’t hurt you, though, and I need you to open the door. I just- I need to see you,” his voice cracks, just barely but it’s there.

That’s all it takes for you to slide the lock and open the door. In front of you, for the second time tonight, is a man you don’t recognize. He doesn’t have fangs and his eyes are his usual deep brown but they look shattered. His hair, usually styled to perfection, is a mess, like he had been running his hands through it for the past few hours. His suit jacket is gone, leaving him in slacks and the dress shirt he had been wearing at the ball, only now it’s untucked and the sleeves are rolled haphazardly up his arms. Elijah Mikaleson looks disheveled and you’re terrified again because this Elijah, hurt and upset, looks further from himself than the Elijah from the garden.

“Eli-”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. God, I’m so fucking sorry,” his voice shakes as he stands in your doorway, “please let me explain, baby.”

You swallow at his words. Baby. That's new.

“Eli, you know you can come in whenever you want,” your eyes look to the ground, feigning interest in the knots of your hardwood floor.

“I want to hear you say it,” you can feel his eyes burning into your lowered head, “I need to hear that you want me to come in, Y/n.”

This time it’s your voice that breaks, “of course I want you to come in Elijah.”

He sighs and steps over the threshold, standing mere feet away from you. You feel so small next to him in nothing but a pair of plaid sleep shorts and plain tank top. Your bare feet, for the first time since getting home, are cool against the floor.

He reaches to touch you and you flinch away, “baby, god, no. Please don’t be afraid.”

Your chest aches at the scared look in his eyes and all you want to do is run into his arms but you need answers.

“What happened back there, Elijah?” You feel pathetic at how quiet your voice still is.

“He wanted to hurt me, torture me. And he knew he couldn't. So he went for you, because he knew I would retaliate,” his eyes land on yours and you can see that he still wants to rip that man limb from limb, “he was a werewolf, Y/n. He wanted you dead, I had to do it.”

He sinks to his knees, his voice dropping lower and lower until the last words are just whispers. His words ring in your ears again. Werewolf. A werewolf wanted you dead. You felt faint.

“Why was a,” you say the word carefully, “werewolf trying to hurt you?”

“Because I'm a vampire, Y/n,” his voice breaks fully this time.

You don’t know what to do. Not with the rapid beating of your heart nor the new information you’ve just acquired and especially not with the crying Mikaelson on his knees in your hallway. Your Elijah, the man who pulls your chair out at restaurants and opens your doors and always has a hand on you when you’re around his brothers, is a vampire. You’re not even sure what that means, there are so many questions running through your mind. You want to ask each and every one of them but, seeing the man in front of you, somehow now doesn’t feel like the right time.

Your heart flutters looking at Elijah. His hands are in his hair again, pulling desperately on the strands. Your heart falls into a thousand tiny pieces at the sight. How can you be afraid of someone being so openly vulnerable to you. No man has ever gotten on his knees for you. No one has ever begged on their knees for you. It’s breathtaking, all you need to push yourself into him and wrap your arms around his neck.

“You should be terrified of me y/n,” he chokes into your chest, “I’m not good for you. I'm a monster, baby.”

His words shred at your heart. You run your fingers through his hair, smoothing the soft locks beneath your fingers.

“No you’re not. You're still my Elijah.”

His head lifts from your chest and he captures your eyes with his serious ones. He looks awestruck.

“Your Elijah?” His accent is even thicker with all the emotion.

You smile for the first time in many hours, “of course, Eli.”

He sweeps you up and into his arms so quickly you get dizzy. Before you know what’s happened, he has you sat on your kitchen island and he’s standing between your legs. Your arms are still clinging tight to his neck while his hands hang dangerously low on your hips.

“And you’re mine, Y/n.”

His words makes your body sing, “All yours.”

He closes his eyes, his hands tightening deliciously on your hips, “say it again. Please, baby.”

“I’m yours Elijah. I’ve always been yours.”

His lips crash hungrily onto yours. He wraps his arms around your lower back and you tangle your legs around his waist to avoid falling off the countertop. He kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down harshly before soothing the sting with his tongue. You're enamoured with this side of Elijah. You’ve seen his gentleman side, it was magnificent, but this side of him? It was everything you didn't know you needed.

He pulls back, only putting a fraction of space between your bodies but it feels like too much, “please don’t run from me again.”

Your lips brush his when you speak, “Never, Eli.”

He pulls your mouth back to his, a hand tangled in your hair tugging gently at the roots. You can’t but moan against his lips and squeeze your legs around his waist. You grab blindly at his shirt, trying desperately to undo the buttons. Your fingers fumble and he chuckles into your mouth. He releases you to pull his shirt off, dropping it mindlessly on the floor, his lips never leaving yours.

His chest is sculpted like the finest marble and you can’t resist running your hands over his skin. He feels strong under your fingertips. He lets out a groan as you slide them back to his shoulders to the nape of his neck. His lips move over your jaw, down your neck, kissing and sucking a trail to your throat.

His hands grip the edge of your tank top bunching the material in his fists, “may I?”

Always the gentleman.

You nod your head before the words can leave your mouth, “please.”

He smirks, his eyes shining, as he begins pulling the tank top tantalizingly slow up your chest. You raise your arms over your head with his movements, lowering them back to his torso when he drops your shirt with his. His chocolate eyes meet yours again, seeking permission. You can’t fight the small smile as you nod. His smile that greets yours is breathtaking.

His eyes flick down, taking in your bare chest like a child in a candy store. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, much like he did to yours only moments ago. His hands slide up the curve of your waist, trailing a new kind of fire wherever he touches. His thumbs graze the sides of your breasts and you just barely stop the moan, closing your eyes to regain the little control you have left.

“I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again, you’re stunning Y/n. Absolutely beautiful.”

Before you can process it, his mouth is around your breast, pulling your nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. It sends a spark of electricity to the deepest part of your stomach, building an ache that you’ve felt before but stronger. Blinding. It’s white hot. You don’t try to stop the moans, you don’t want to. His tongue swirls around your breast, teasingly slow, making you feel every little movement. It’s dangerously addictive.

“Elijah,” you breath his name like oxygen.

His lips let you go, moving down your chest, trailing kisses down your abdomen, pulling praises from your lips as he goes. His eyes find yours when he sinks to his knees for the second time tonight. His hands grasp your shorts, covering your hips easily. You’re a wanton mess in front of him, practically fully undone from the simplest of touches.

“What do you want me to do, baby, you have to tell me what you want.” It's good to know he’s breathless too.

“Eli, I-” you moan as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, sucking gently at the skin, his eyes still locked on yours, “I want you.”

He pulls his lips back, “you want me to do what, baby?”

You groan at the devilish smirk on his handsome face, “I want you to kiss me!”

“As you wish.”

He pulls your shorts off first, slowly dragging them down your legs, kissing all the way down and back up again. When you're left in nothing but your panties he presses the first kiss to you. It’s hot and sends shocks throughout your entire body.

“More, now. Please, Elijah.”

He chuckles but does as told, pulling the remaining material down your legs before hooking your legs over his muscular shoulders. He wastes no time attaching his lips to your sex, sucking delightfully. He swirls his tongue over your clit, stoking the fire building in your stomach. He drags his tongue down your slit for what feels like an eternity before he plunges into you. You throw your head back and close your eyes, mumbling praises into oblivion. You can feel his eyes on you, soaking up every inch of you.

Your hands find his hair again, not seeming to want to be apart from him, “god.”

“That's not my name, baby,” he mumbles against you, stopping his ministrations.

You open your eyes and lock them with his waiting ones, drawing his name out in your best attempt at being seductive, “Elijah.”

His eyes darken but this time you aren't scared. No, this time his eyes make him look dominant. Sexy. His tongue attacks your clit again only this time faster and hungrier. It makes the fire in your stomach white hot. He’s unrelenting, bringing you closer to the edge with every pass of his tongue. He's pouring everything he has into pleasuring you and you can feel it, literally. You squeeze your thighs around him tighter, ready to explode

“Come for me, baby.”

With that you fall into something you’ve heard about but never thought possible. All you can see, all you can feel, is Elijah. He consumes all of your senses as you fall apart, over and over again, under his touch. In the midst of falling apart you catch Elijah’s eyes and fall all over again. He looks like he’s in pure bliss watching you come undone because of him. You know in all your falling you murmur his name more than once. You know that he loves it.

As you come down from your high, you go to unwrap your legs from his neck, only to have him wrap you around his waist and pick you up. You can’t help but giggle at his determined look.

When he starts walking toward your bedroom you ask, “what’s on your mind, Eli?”

“Round two,” you giggle again when he kisses your forehead.

“I'm glad you came over, Elijah.”

[soulmate-game]

“Alright, so tonight is going to be fairly standard. Arkham is silent, and there’s no solid leads on what any of the free rogues might be up to. Harley is sick and Ivy is stuck at home taking care of her, so they aren’t going to be up to anything on either side of the law for a few days. Catwoman is the only person we’d have to look out for right now, but her kleptomania has taken her out of the city for a change,” Barbara was typing away at the large Batcomputer keyboard as she brought all of the Gotham vigilantes up to speed on what to expect for patrol that night. “So, Red Hood and Black Bat will take the Narrows and surrounding area patrol route like usual. Nightwing and Batgirl, Upper east side and fashion district patrol route. Red Robin, you’re taking the route that passes city hall and through Old Gotham and Diamond District, and if you don’t throw a fit maybe you can take Robin with you. Batman, crime alley and Newtown patrol. Robin or no Robin, pick your poison,” the redhead offered, finally spinning her wheelchair around to look at everyone. “We’ll be pretty spread out tonight, but like I said, there’s nothing. No whispers of anything planned on the dark web, no news from any of the rogues, Blackgate and Arkham are, dare I say, peaceful right now. But if you see anything, I’ll redirect you guys so you can get backup ASAP.”

This was a rare night. Usually there was at least a plot or red flag to investigate, but not that night. For some reason, it seemed like Gotham had gotten a dose of sanity that it had been desperately missing.

“Actually,” Alfred took that moment to walk in, a slight pep to his step that seemed to catch everyone’s attention. “I do have news. Batman, you of course know that I have been keeping a close eye on Paris’s situation as per your orders, yes?”

Bruce, who had already been inching towards the batmobile none too subtly, suddenly stood stock still and slowly turned to look at his father figure. He could feel the eyes of his many children honing in on him, silent questions behind those orbs.

“Of course, I remember,” he confirmed cautiously. “You haven’t had an update for me in years.”

Years? Tim furrowed his eyebrows. That meant this had to be something that stretched very far back, because everything that Batman tried to keep secret from him since he became Robin had already been outed. Right? Well, he supposed there was always the possibility that Bruce could have snuck something by, but not a large one. Between him and Oracle, any new secrets he tried to squirrel away were unearthed pretty swiftly. So, most likely this was something Bruce had asked Alfred to keep an eye on at least back when Jason was still Robin. Maybe even further back than that.

“Yes, well you wouldn’t have appreciated any prior updates, sir,” Alfred said pointedly, raising an eyebrow. He always would be the one to understand Bruce Wayne and Batman the best out of all of them. “But this is a big one. I used our inside contact to check up on the Paris situation like I do every month, and this came up,” Alfred pulled out a remote from his pocket and clicked it at the computer, triggering it to bring up an article that likely had been hidden and only accessible via that remote signal. If Barbara had had any reason to check for hidden files she would have found it easily, but Alfred was good at never giving any hints as to when he was hiding something.

But what was on the computer was far more interesting than the all-too-familiar, cryptid ways of Alfred Pennyworth.

Because it was a news article from an online Paris newspaper. It was still in untranslated French, but nobody in that room had any trouble reading it. It was dated to have been published two weeks earlier.

On the cover picture for the article was a man that everybody also recognized, being high-profile and extremely influential in the fashion industry. Most of them had even met the man at least once, the aging Gabriel Agreste. In his early seventies, it was odd to see the man being herded into a police vehicle. He didn’t seem all that threatening, though he still struck an oddly intimidating figure with his cold glare and straight back. Being herded behind him was a woman of around Bruce’s own age, with long brown hair in several elaborate braids. Her dark, almost muddy green eyes bore into the camera and a snarl was on her face. Lila Rossi, the model that had been employed under Agreste for quite some years now and had turned into a sort of reality TV celebrity after she got too old to be hired for as many modeling gigs. She was known as highly untrustworthy, a lie monger and the most infamous gossip in the celebrity world. The headline for the article was;

“THE PARISIAN NIGHTMARE FINALLY OVER! AFTER THIRTY YEARS OF TORMENT, THE HAWKMOTHS OF PAST AND PRESENT HAVE BEEN ARRESTED.”

Underneath that title picture was another, this one detailing the Parisian heroes to stop Hawkmoth, who had been replaced years ago by his female counterpart Monarch, a play on the Monarch Butterfly. The Heroes, on the other hand, had remained mostly the same after the infamous confusion of the early years of Hawkmoth’s reign of terror, where Ladybug had temporarily started adding hero after hero to the team before mysteriously and suddenly retiring almost all of them.

On the right was Ladybug, who stood proud with her arms crossed and a somber gaze directed towards the two unmasked villains. On the left was Chat Noir, in a weird black leather costume that was like a bizzare yet fashionable meld of DiscoWing and the classic Batman uniform. Minus a cape or cowl, of course. Standing behind them, all fanned out, were the last four members of their team. Viperion, in a dark teal snake-themed costume. Ryuuko, standing next to him in a black and red ensemble with her elemental symbol proudly on her chest. Bunnyx, in her bright baby blue and white, and lastly the imperious Stinger behind them in her black outfit with gold accents.

As everyone but Alfred and Bruce read the article and examined the photos as quickly as they could, the eldest vigilante in the room slowly removed his cowl. His eyes were wide, disbelieving as they stared only at the two pictures on the screen and didn’t pay any heed to the article itself.

“Thirty years,” Jason remarked, turning to face Bruce angrily. “Paris has been under attack by magical madmen for thirty years, and you never told us? We knew nothing about this, and this has been going on since before us. Since before you, even,” he waved a hand at the screen angrily. “You know that they have been under attack since before Batman was even a thing, and you never said anything? We could have helped! The league could have—“

“Been a liability,” Bruce interrupted, but it was the uncharacteristic softness to his tone that ultimately shut Jason up and attracted everyone else’s rapid attention. “The league knows. The founding members, anyway. It was something I briefed them on back when we first founded the League, but we were careful to keep any mention of it off of any electronic system. The magic behind the attacks stopped any word of the terrorism from getting out through normal means. We pretended to put the JLE in Paris, when really they are centered miles out of city limits and never set foot inside Paris’s boundaries.”

“Why?” Dick asked, his own mask off so that he could glare into Bruce’s eyes without it obscuring his expression at all. He wasn’t explosively angry like Jason, but it was clear that Dick wasn’t happy either. “They all look to be your age, Bruce. Which means they’ve been fighting HawkMoth since they were teenagers, on their own, since before there was any Justice League or very many other established heroes at all to provide backup. And I get that HawkMoth and Monarch seem to have controlled or fed off negative emotions and a lot of us would have been liabilities, but there are Leaguers who have extreme control over their emotions. You could have gone. Or J’onn, you could have even sent Tim. Anybody to help even a little.”

“Paris isn’t my city, it’s Ladybug’s city. The League and most metahuman heroes stay out of Gotham because I asked them too, but I am not the first to have the idea that keeping other heroes out of a volatile city can be beneficial for damage control. Ladybug herself told me not to allow any interference in the situation,” Bruce braced himself against the back of one of their metal debriefing chairs, leaning forward so it could take most of his weight. That, and the way he never looked away from the photos displayed on the computer, tipped off everyone else that Bruce might not have stayed uninvolved willingly. That he had a deeper connection to the whole Paris mess than just keeping a shrewd eye on a possible issue.

“You know Ladybug?” Tim decides to speak up, leaning back against the desk that housed the batcomputer keyboard. His voice was decidedly softer than that of his elder brothers’.

Bruce nodded, still in an odd partial trance. “We met when I was on a trip to Paris, before I became Batman. It was twenty-three years ago, I was eighteen and found out the hard way about the situation that the rest of the world was somehow oblivious to. I was able to meet Ladybug during one of her patrols, and confronted her. Even after I became Batman two years later, she refused any help. It wasn’t until about a year before I adopted Dick that I finally decided I couldn’t keep worrying about a situation and people that I wasn’t being allowed to help, so I told Alfred to use the sources that Ladybug had given me back when we first met to check in on the situation every month or two. I know that it was not the best decision, making Alfred do what I couldn’t bring myself to, but by the time I adopted Dick I had mostly forgotten about it. I was too worried about trying to figure out how to raise a kid and then deal with raising a vigilante kid after that, for the first time.”

Silence reigned for a while. This was, essentially, news that Bruce had been waiting to hear for over twenty years. An outcome that he had been barred from being a part of. Talk about bittersweet, especially when Bruce seemed so passionate about wanting to have helped. Probably too guilty about not being allowed to.

In the end, it was Damian who made the connection between this news and his father’s foreign mood and behavior first. Or at least, he was the first to vocalize it. Cass probably noticed it sooner.

“You have feelings for Ladybug,” Damian somehow managed to make the declaration sound like a reprimand. “I admit, she is likely much better of a suitor for you than that mangy cat, but I hardly think that trying to start courting her again after so long apart is reasonable. She could have changed from—“

“I know, Damian,” Bruce’s knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping the chair. “Trust me, I have spent more than enough hours contemplating calling her again to catch up, but I knew it was best to stay away. I had grown busy with Batman and the League anyway, and adding the time difference on there was no way any relationship between us would have been feasible.”

“So you cut yourself off from even being her friend. Which, might I remind you, I heavily advised against,” Alfred finally cut back into the conversation, hands clasped behind his back. “The two of you had maintained a perfectly stable long distance friendship for over five years, and I still consider the day you cut her off to be one of your stupidest mistakes, master Bruce. On an unrelated note, I received a call from the designer that you always commission your more high-fashion suits from, sir. She is coming to Gotham for a time, and I gave her an invitation to come visit for dinner tomorrow. I hope you don’t mind.” With that said, Alfred turned on his heel and walked away.

“That man never raises his voice, but somehow still makes you feel like absolute shit when he gets mad,” Stephanie mused aloud when the butler had left, earning silent nods from everyone else.

“How are you still alive, Father?” Damian asked, raising an eyebrow over one vibrant green eye. “If you cut off Ladybug only to continue to commission the person that I assume is her civilian identity on a regular basis, how has that idiocy not blended into the rest of your life?”

“It has,” Jason added in, always up for a game of Rag on Bruce. “He’s just always had this annoying ability of surviving even the shittiest situations he ends up in. It’s like he has plot armor or something.”

Bruce only grunted, pulling his cowl back on. “Patrol. Robin, you’re with Red Robin today. Don’t kill each other.”

“Oh no, I want to live to see the girl you’ve apparently been crushing on since you were a teenager,” Tim said as he ambled over to his motorcycle. “Seeing THAT reunion is gonna be way better than picking another fight with Demon Spawn.”

“Tt.”

—*—*—*—*—*

“Your tie won’t get any straighter,” Barbara teased Bruce, watching as he fiddled with the tie around his throat for the millionth time in just the past ten minutes. Alfred had made sure that he couldn’t escape this, even going so far as benching Batman for the night.

And to make matters worse, it was still far too early for patrol so all the Wayne kids were present. Stephanie had other obligations to see to, unfortunately, but other than her even Jason had come over to the manor to see the fallout.

“Master Bruce, she is here,” Alfred’s voice cut through the almost palpable nerves emanating from the usually stoic or charismatic man. Batman was nowhere to be seen at the moment, but neither was Playboy Billionaire Brucie Wayne. No, this was Bruce Wayne, as genuine as anybody could see him. And more nervous than his kids had ever witnessed.

The door was opened, and in stepped someone that defied any of the Batkid’s preconceptions. They were expecting someone suave, sophisticated, with hard-earned muscle trying to hide under her skin. Like a Wonder Woman type of person, bursting with strength except for when they made an effort to disguise it. But that was not what they got. No suave, sophisticated bachelorette of a businesswoman and reputable fashion designer. No goddess-masquerading-as-a-human. Not even a femme fatale like Selina Kyle or most of Batman’s exes.

But there was a distinct observation that the kids made the moment they saw her.

Black hair, so dark that it seemed to reflect blue in the light, and clear blue eyes that were dark, vibrant, and seemed to glow with intelligence and humor, with just the slightest gray tones that hid in them grim experiences and disillusion.

She had a smile that was eerily similar to Dick’s when she laid eyes on the family and let it spread across her face. It was like the warmth of the sun, and instantly made the impersonal foyer feel cozy and welcoming. But the sharpness in her eyes as she scanned over all the people gathered, more than she expected if her eyebrow raise was any indication, was just like Tim. Too much like Tim.

She came to a stop a few feet away from the Wayne clan, and rested one hand on her waist as she popped her hip out. Jason’s attitude.

Her hair was up in a simple but elegant bun, with a braid curling around the base of it. She was small, about five foot four if their estimates were correct, and the sleek sleeves of her midnight blue dress simultaneously emphasized and disguised the lithe, corded muscle mass that seemed to flow smoothly down her arms. Not a brawler’s muscle, but an acrobat or gymnast’s. The delicate silver embroidery along the sleeves and trim of her dress, and curling around her waist like a belt of thread, was in actuality a string of bats in various flight poses interspersed with silver swirls and tiny ladybugs. Her own playful personality, it seemed, something innocent and daring and subtle all at once that didn’t quite fit any of the kids, it was solely hers.

“I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” the woman finally introduced herself, holding out her hand even as her radiant smile stayed firmly in place. When her eyes found Bruce again, they stayed there. “An old friend of your father’s. And by the way, Bruce. If you ever cut contact with me again without ever explaining yourself, I will not stay twiddling my thumbs in some other city again. I will hunt you down and get you to tell me what exactly possessed you to freeze me out, and only if it is some really good reasoning will I let you off without giving you a remedial lesson in the importance of dodging.”

Damian’s fire.

Dick looked over at Bruce, then at Marinette. She caught his eye, nodded and winked, and looked back to her old friend.

“But I do have to say, this looks suspiciously like a family we might have had if you had ever gotten up the courage to ask me out all those years ago instead of not realizing that I never specifically forbade you from visiting Paris, only heroes in general. You’re lucky I’m patient. I spent thirty years waiting to get back the Butterfly Miraculous and lock those two up for good, but making me wait twenty years to finally confess to you is a bit much, don’t you think? And adopting kids with only blue eyes and black hair is a bit on the nose, even for you.”

Scratch that, Damian’s loyalty.

Bruce really had adopted kids that reminded him of Marinette in some way, and the way he would grin or smile at Damian when he was displaying his usually subtle but steady loyalty, or the way that Bruce had almost unending tolerance for Damian’s stubbornness, it all started to make sense.

Bruce had tried building a family around the one he imagined he could have had with Marinette.

“Mari—“

“Nope. You’ve made me wait this long, you don’t even get a hug until after dinner. Then we can catch up, and you’ll take me out to dinner in a few days,” suddenly what was happening seemed to creep up on the woman, and she fidgeted. Sheepishness rose to her face, and she winced at her own words. But damn, she had imagined this day for so long, she couldn’t help but get assertive! “I mean, if you want to. I get it if you lost interest in dating me, but—“

“How about I set up a private dinner on the top of Wayne enterprises, day after tomorrow. We can even do a patrol afterwards if you’re up to it.”

His sons all facepalmed, some inwardly and some outwardly. Barbara groaned and Cass pinched the bridge of her nose. But, to their astonishment, Marinette’s smile just came back full force.

“Aww, you know I can’t resist the offer of a patrol. But just one, I want to enjoy some time off now that I’m not perpetually on-call as Paris’s main hero.”

Bruce finally grinned back, his eyes soft for the first time in a while that wasn’t directed at his kids. In way that they had never been soft towards Selina or most of his past flings.

“Just one patrol, then.”

“Sounds like a date.”

First attempt to upload this goofed and deleted the first part, so here is attempt number two! Again, Brucinette has been invading my dreams.

Apparently there is a part 2 now.

[marvelship-oneshots]

TRAPPED TOGETHER (STUCKONY)

PART 2 OF 2

[2.2k words]

Week 7 It was late. Like, really late and Tony had no idea of where it was. He knew he went to the bar to meet someone, got something to drink and then nothing. He was sitting on a stool in some pub downtown, with a half full drink in front of him. The girl ditched him many hours before, when he started talking about his extremely hot roommates. Steve and Bucky had a date night, as much as he had understood, it was their anniversary and Steve had every intention of proposing. They left the apartment wearing very elegant suits, holding hands. Tony knew he should be happy for them but all he could think of was not being with them. If at first he was only physically attached to both of them, he was now almost 100% sure he was actually in loved with them. And that confused him. So he did what he knew best: escaping. He reached out for some random girl who popped into his Instagram DMs. He wasn't even sure he liked her, hell, he wasn't even sure if he was actually into women, but he still went on that date. But soon, one drink after the other, he lost every inhibition and started rambling about Steve and Bucky and about how much he loved them. In the meanwhile, Steve and Bucky came back to an empty apartment. They didn't know where Tony was or that he had plans to go out. Bucky went to bed, while Steve was watching some stupid program on TV. Truth was, they were both extremely worried about him. It was not the first time Tony stayed out late, but for some reason they wanted to know that he was ok. Finally the room stopped spinning around and Tony reached for his phone. He wanted to call Steve but at the same he didn't want to wake him. The phone stated ringing. Steve opened his eyes, he had fallen asleep on the armchair while waiting for Tony to come back. "Tones" "Heeei Captain Ass." "Tony is everything fine?" Tony nodded, unaware that it was a phone call and Steve could not, in fact, see him. "I wanna come home Stevie" Steve got up, took his jacket and headed to the car. "Where are you Tony?" "Where am I?" Tony asked the bartender. "The Irish pub down the street" an unknown voice took over. Steve finally arrived. Tony had his head on the counter. Besides him and the bartender, the pub was empty. "Tones" Steve gently called. "Tones wake up, I'm here" Tony looked up. His eyes lightened up when he saw Steve and he threw himself at the blond soldier. "Heeeei Stevie" he said giggling. Tony was so drunk that he couldn't van walk. Steve had to pick him up bridal style and carry him to the car. In reality, he just wanted to be carried like Steve carried Bucky, if he wanted to, he could have walked.But he didn't want to. He needed to feel Steve as close to him as humanly possible. Steve carried him up to their apartment, laying him on his bed. Steve helped him out of his suit and into one of Steve's t-shirt, that for sure going to be more comfortable. He put next to the bed a bucket, just to be safe. "Steve" Tony whispered before Steve completely left the room. "Yeah Tones. You needed something?" Tony signed to go back, sitting up on his bed. "Come here" Steve sat next to Tony, not sure of what he was doing. Tony put a hand on Steve's thigh, dangerously close to his crotch. "Steve" Tony panted as Steve started caressing Tony's face. Tony finally looked up, meeting Steve's eyes. They started into each other's eyes for what it felt like hours, until finally Tony gathered the courage to cup Steve's cleanly shaved face with his hand. Steve placed one of his hands over Tony's, the other resting on his lower back. It was wrong, so incredibly wrong, but he couldn't help it. Tony pulled their faces closer, finally putting their lips together. They both wanted it for so long but it was not supposed to happen. They whole thing was not supposed to happen. Steve was not supposed to fall for Tony and Tony was not supposed to fall for both Bucky and Steve. Steve pulled away, getting up. He felt... strange. He felt at the same time guilty and satisfied. "You're drunk Tones" he said before walking away. That night he laid in bed with his fiance,

who he was trying to build a life with, but he couldn't fall asleep. He tried to sort out his feelings. How could he be in love with two men at the same time? He tried to mentally make a pro and cons  list. Bucky had been his best friend in the whole world since they were four, he was his fiance. Just that night he had put a ring on Bucky's hand, promising him to marry him. They had been in every type of situation together. They enlisted together, trained together, were sent to war together. Steve was there when Bucky's arm was blown away. They had been there for each other in the most difficult times of their lives. Even if he wanted to, Steve could not find a downside to that relationship. Tony had been his roommate for two intense, a relatively short time, compared to his relationship with Bucky. But he had a very strong feeling about Tony that he could not ignore.

Week 9 It has been two weeks from the "accident". Steve and Tony hadn't talked about it anymore ever since. Steve wasn't even sure Tony remembered the kiss. But he did, and he wanted more. He remembered Tony's hands on his face and his soft lips, his smell of cologne and whiskey. He remembered the feeling, and he wanted to experience it again. But he couldn't, he had Bucky, they were going to get married. Needless to say, Bucky didn't know about it, but he did notice a slight change in Steve. The night he proposed he was thrilled -who wouldn't-  but the morning after he was...different, more distant and cold. Bucky couldn't wrap his mind around the reason behind that sudden change. Steve wouldn't even dare as much as looking at Tony and Tony noticed. Bucky did too. Steve couldn't take it anymore. He had never been good at keeping secrets, not from Bucky anyways. Bucky knew him better than anyone else and if pained him no to tell him the truth. When he came home from work that night, Tony was out. He had been out almost every night since the kiss, but that was something Steve shouldn't care about. Bucky was in their room, reading a book on their bed. Steve wasn't sure he wanted to tell him the truth, but Bucky deserved to know it from him. Finding out from somewhere else could destroy their relationship. Maybe, just maybe, if he told the truth himself, there was a chance for them. "Hey babe" Bucky said as he heard the door shutting, without looking at Steve. Steve sat on the bed. "Buck, we need to talk" Bucky looked up from his book, crawled to Steve, hugging him from behind and kissed his neck. "Mh yes i want to "talk" as well" he said before biting his lobe. "Buck, we need to talk" Bucky sat on the bed, next to Steve, putting a hand over his. "Babe, is everything alright?" "No, it's not" Steve said turning towards Bucky. "Steve, baby. Talk to me, whatever it is, we can work it out" "I love you Bucky, you know that, right?" "Yes I do baby. I love you too" Steve finally looked at Bucky. A tar fell on her his cheek. "Two weeks ago, the night when we didn't know where Tony was-" "Yes, the night you proposed" "Yes, the night I proposed. As I was saying, that night Tony called me to pick him up from the pub. He was...blackout drunk. I helped him...getting comfortable and well, he was drunk and..." Steve looked at the wall. "And what, Steve? What happened?" "He kissed me" Bucky took his hand. "Ok. It's ok. He was drunk, he didn't know what he was doing" "I kissed him back. And...and I liked it" A tear fell on Bucky's cheek. "I'm sorry Buck, I really am. I love you, I'm in love with you. But I think I love Tony too" Bucky passed a hand through his hair. "Steve, hey. Everything is fine" "No Buck, it's not. I cheated on you, the very night I asked you to spend the rest of our lives together. It's not fine" Steve was crying. Steve never cried. When he did, things were bad. Bucky sighed. "A bunch of weeks ago me and Tony had...an encounter. I was going to take a shower and he was coming out. It was...hot. We were about to kiss, his hand was on my chest. From that day, I haven't stopped thinking about his hands all over me." Steve finally turned towards Bucky, gathering the courage to look at him in the eyes. "I guess what I'm trying to say is... I've been having...feelings too. Feelings that I don't understand how they can be possible" Bucky cupped Steve's face, putting their foreheads together. "I love you Steve, and I love Tony too" Steve closed his eyes and let out a loud sigh. "So everything is going to be fine?" Bucky nodded. "Yes, everything is going to be fine" Steve started laughing. "This is totally weird right?" No Bucky nodded.  "Yes, it's definitely weird"  Steve hugged Bucky, passing his hands through his long hair. Steve kissed the top of his head. "Do you think we should tell him?"

Later that day Tony was home. He could barely stand on his own, but he was home. In the last weeks he had spending every free minute he had at the pub, but t lie act he knew what to stop drinking. He couldn't risk having to call Steve to pick him up again. He remembered that night. He remembered that kiss, but he was aware that it couldn't happen again, for any reason. That situation was painful. Having the men he loved that close but so impossible to reach was killing him. Tony was looking for a new apartment but hadn't had any luck so far. Tony threw himself on the couch, without even opening it. Bucky and Steve walked into the room, looking at each other. "Tony" "Mh hey guys" he said without opening his eyes. "We have...We have something to tell you" Tony rolled on the couch. He was now giving them his back. "Yeah yeah, you're engaged now and you want me out of here. Don't worry, I'm already looking for a place." Steve and Bucky looked at each other. "No, quite the opposite, actually" Tony turned the head, looking at them with a questioning expression on his face. "What do you mean?" he asked, sitting up. The two men sat on the couch, one on each of Tony's sides. Steve took one of his hands and Bucky put his hand on Tony's knee. "We've been talking, Bucky and I, and since we met you it's like something is missing in our life" "We're always worried about you and when you're not here, it feels empty" Tony was confused. "I've always felt like something was missing in this relationship- Steve pointed at him and Bucky- and I really think that it was a reason if we were sold the same apartment-" "Destiny. Steve is talking about destiny. What we're trying to say is this. Tony you are what was missing between us." Bucky moved his hand higher on Tony's tight. "We love you, Tones" "We both love you" added Steve, interviewing his hand with Tony's. "And I'm pretty sure that you have the same feeling for us, don't you?" Tony nodded, relaxing under his men's touch. "We want you Tony" said Bucky before kissing his neck. Tony let out a loud moan. "I want you too. The both of you" Steve let go of his hand. "Come here baby. Show me how much you want me" Bucky and Tony exchanged a lustful look before Tony climbed on Steve's lap, throwing his arms around his neck. Steve put his hands on Tony's waist, pulling his shirt of of his pants. Tony finally kissed Steve, who looked at Bucky. Bucky scooted closer to the boys, took one of Tony's hands, kissing its back. Suddenly, Steve lifted Tony, who chuckled, and walked towards his and Bucky's bedroom. Bucky followed them and leaned against the door frame as Steve leaned Tony on the bed, bending over him to reprise their make out session. Bucky took the Polaroid camera that was standing on the dresser nearby and took a picture of his now two favorite men. He then walked over to the bed, joining the fun.

Tony was asleep with his head on Steve's chest. Bucky was caressing his hip. Steve took Bucky's had, intertwining their fingers. They smiled at each other, finally feeling complete. "I told you that everything would be fine, right?" Tony rolled over, leaning against Bucky's naked chest. "I love you guys" he mumbled. Bucky and Steve looked at each other and smiled. "Yes you did"

[reversecreek]

hi it’s me... clicks across the linoleum of the dash wearing high heels w a spray tan like i’m a member of jersey shore suddenly..... best summary of willa is that she got moira rose as her #1 chara on a What Character Are You Most Like personality test out of thousands of options.... says so much. u can find her pinterest here n her playlist here 😋 like this or hmu fr plots!!

* ashley moore, cis female + she/her  | you know willa deneurve, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, most of her life, on and off? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to watch me by the pom poms like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole sticking gold stars over old polaroids until you can barely see faces, dressing as marie antoinette at your high school prom & delivering fake laughter to a bratz doll you’re pretending is a talkshow host thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is august 1st, so they’re a leo, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt, she/her )

HISTORY:

willa ws born to honestly like….. the perfect family not to honk my own tit bt……………. they were jst rly quite wholesome. her mum celeste was this larger than life person who could never b contained by the four walls of any room she was in. she hd the presence of a gold glitter chess piece on an otherwise mundane wooden board. her dad marlon used to always joke that he had absolutely NO idea how he landed her bc he was just this like. rly average guy by all accounts n purposes….. blended into the sea in high skl……. had a few close friends but was never rly Notable or made a proper impression anywhere…… he always retold it as him coasting thru life until he met her in college. kind of like he’d been half awake before. they just Clicked n no-one cld believe she’d chosen him bt she was jst. completely head over heels n didn’t care what anyone had to say bc that was That

willa always very much took after celeste…… there’s this one quote i remember reading that goes vaguely like “my mom and i would sit and listen to leonard cohen and joni mitchell lyrics together. from a young age i remember her being like "i’m playing this song and when it’s done i want u to tell me what’s happening in it” n she would give me a fake glass of wine when i was 8 and i would listen and b like. i think there was an affair.” which so much summarises their dynamic…… she ws just so like. dramatic n fun n always encouraged that in willa too. her mum was like. everything she aspired to be…… got scouted by a modelling agency in college n shot one campaign before blowing it off simply bc she was bored. starred lead in a play. spent a few weeks travelling asia selling handmade candles shaped like koi fish or curled up foxes or elegantly stretched hands. dated a parisian movie star during a break she and her father took n was featured in tabloids on his arm at the premiere. sm fun n exotic stories willa literally cldn’t get enough. whenever she’d tell them to willa as a kid her dad wld roll his eyes like ohhhhh here she goes again but it’d all b playful n he’d smile bc he honestly cldn’t get enough either. the stuff dreams are made of luv (lizzie mcguire stans rise)

(car accident & death tw) so u know when ur walking down a flight of stairs n then out of nowhere u miss a step n u get that lurch in ur stomach like ur in free fall? yeah. i won’t go into it too much but one night they were driving back from getting frozen yogurt and then suddenly they weren’t. she doesn’t rly remember much about it except for completely ignoring the doctors trying to give her the news and just saying “dad chose pecan. who chooses pecan?” n repeating that over n over n over until it didn’t rly register in her ears as english any more.

willa was uprooted from irving at 11 to go n live w her aunt in NY. this was like. a huge adjustment honestly….. her aunt blanche hd always been a little unconventional bt extremely glamorous. she lived in an old defunct theatre she’d bought out n came from a lot of money. willa’s mum’s side of the family hd always been well off bt celeste opted to live a little more Ordinarily shall we say after settling whereas blanche ws jst balls to the walls dripping w eccentric excess…. wld say she was never naked bc she ws always wearing black opium by yves saint laurent…… probably the living embodiment of la vie boheme….. she’d been admitted a yr early to a rly prestigious parisian design school n is an AMAZING seamstress. a corset she stitched a broadway star into got commissioned fr an actress’ red carpet walk at an indie film festival. rly just lived such a life rich w lots of stories n lots of talent too…… had that star quality essence tht her mum had n that was smthn willa found quite comforting everything considered.

(grief tw) u would think maybe a situation like this (one involving so much sudden change) wld cause a kid of tht age to withdraw into her shell bt willa only came out of her shell MORE. she coped w her situation by spinning it into a celebrity origin story inside her head. the tear jerker tale someone tells during their x factor audition to get the judges rooting for them. mentally streamlining things. repackaging all that hurt as a surefire ticket to success bc it had to be useful for something right? there had to b a point to it right? willa decided the point was she’s a star. KFHSGKFHGFKHGKJSFHG. get it girl….. she ws literally just like ok well clearly i’m destined to be famous n i’m the main character of this story. this story called earth. it’s all about me.

rly heavily immersed herself in her high skl theatre scene……. loved experimenting w fashion n literally wore the most outlandish things like. she treated the hallways like her milan f/w debut every new school yr…… a lot of the things she wore were actual like. costumes frm her aunt’s collection…… she has a multi-story closet u have to climb ladders to reach things in like a very rustic library…. it rly wasn’t uncommon for willa to turn up one day corsetted like a pirate with billowing sleeves or sporting the baby blue gingham of a swedish milk maid. it’s like she literally jst…… became a role. always. every day. the world ws her stage. the cameras were always rolling. her aunt only encouraged this tbh n honestly? icon. we love to see it. willa partied a bunch n rly lived a lax lifestyle where responsibility was concerned…. her aunt ws her best friend…… made rly gd friends with performers in the drag club scene n loved the glitz of that….. lots of wild nights turned grossly bright mornings

snagged an agent fresh into her first yr of college (she gt accepted to a pretty competitive theatre program at [redacted] in NY bc i haven’t looked into what that wld be yet <3 i’m merely a helpless british lass <3) n booked a few commercials n things….. when i say willa wld enter audition rooms like she owned the place i’m rly not exaggerating…. once she turned up to a casting call for MEN n just walked right to the front of the line scraping a random chair along the way n then took a seat w her legs crossed popping a bubble in her gum as they all glared at her like wtf is literally going on who are u. she received several complaints n she was just like “ur all acting so jealous of me….”

i feel like she got a pretty big role in a theatre production in her last yr at school. haven’t decided what yet. maybe smthn rocky horror or even mimi in rent. this was meant to b some like huge moment for willa like yes girl finally making it ur on ur way this is what u wanted n she WAS happy abt it but once it was wrapped she jst had this strange like Huh feeling in her chest……. n a la celeste w all her exciting stories was just like well i’ve done that so what’s next? i think she’d graduate n then jst suddenly decide to move to irving in a fit of impulse. to all her college friends she’d be like “ugh a beach retreat is so necessary honestly the city is sooooooooo toxic this place cld literally enlarge my pores if i wasn’t so rigorous with my skincare routine” bt like 🤔 what u seeking girl? results pending.

SO basically i feel like she finally moved back to irving little over a yr ago. she hd a brief stint starring on a reality tv show tht filmed in one of the larger beach houses where her dog gained a handful of fan accounts dedicated to him……. u maybe will see why in the first bullet point of her personality section………… FKGHKSHFGGKFSHKHG. honestly she ws received pretty well too (mostly bc she’s so fking dramatic n like a caricature of a person) bt it wasn’t anything to warrant actual Fame (despite what willa herself might think). she’s mostly jst like. chilling honestly. accepting scripts n flying out fr auditions still. she’ll nab the occasional part bt she’s looking for that One Thing that rly feels like her big moment….. otherwise i cn just imagine her treating irving like a little dollhouse compared to the roaring mansion of NYC n having fun playing around in it. strikes a pose w a hand on my hip…. and now to personality.

PERSONALITY:

got a very large n lithe greyhound n named him marlene dietrich bc she was a black n white hollywood starlet famously known for her affairs n “bedroom eyes”. willa was like ugh. icon status instantly. didn’t rly foresee the responsibilities tht came w owning a dog tht loves exercise n complains abt him being like “ugh he wants to run soooooooooo much 🙄 like where are u literally going”. having said tht loves him dearly n he can often be seen wearing little clothes. a baby’s bonnet. a quilted leather waistcoat. a custom dog boa. he’s very glamorous. willa calls him a gay icon despite no evidence to support this theory. she also says he can sniff out evil in ppl so she brings him sometimes when she’s first introduced to a friend’s new bf n if his nose quivers a certain way she’s like “marlene has spoken. it’s done”. her friends r like omg? what’s done? willa gets up n walks away without elaborating. marlene’s little paws clicking along the floor w attitude.

literally dressed as marie antoinette for her high skl prom even tho there was no theme pertaining to this. jst loves the spotlight. can fake cry and WILL to get out of a parking ticket or teach someone to watch their tone or even simply for the theatrics of it all. the Most dramatic………….. rly fits being an actress like when people find out what she does it’s very like oh that makes sense.

says she doesn’t get hangovers. she’s just like “i revoked that it doesn’t happen to me”. alludes tht this is bc she’s an all powerful deity that was Chosen to be Blessed bt really she’s jst great at bouncing back n acting fine even w a blistering headache. it’s about believing the performance so much that u even convince urself.

has an extremely elevated sense of self importance bc this is kind of the equivalent of several layers of bubble wrap to cushion her frm the world. strives to b extraordinary bc ordinary honestly feels like a death sentence n there’s nothing she’d want to b seen as less. despite this weight she puts on that she rly doesn’t tend to let ppl’s opinions affect fr the most part like she’s quite firmly set in this I’m Literally The Most Gorgeous And Beautiful Angel Star Creature To Walk This Narsty Little Earth view

probably an incredibly big fan of dramatic short lived love affairs. she wants the glamour of it all. the scandal. the randomly breaking up w someone in a public place n sliding on sunglasses after delivering the words over a freshly ordered coffee (tht she’ll leave without drinking bc that’s star power babey she waits fr no man or no hot beverage)…….. has no preference gets w any n all regardless of gender……… romanticises things so they hv a better spin or story in her head n doesn’t rly take things seriously like jst has fun in her fantasy world…. she’s like ugh chuck i know u wanted to marry me but i’m a beautiful bird in a cage n u literally need to undo the latch n set me free……. the guy’s like……. my name’s chase n we’ve only been on two dates….. willa’s like…… please don’t take this so hard i can tell ur besides urself but people r starting to stare……. gets up n leaves. no-one was staring. chase is confused n honestly probably semi concerned fr her welfare.

always has to b the hottest n most glamorous person in a grocery store…. probably goes to them when she doesn’t even need anything jst holding a basket nonchalantly over her forearm glancing over at a cashier in her wizard of oz corset seamed interpretation on a dorothy dress thinking he wants me soooo bad it’s not even funny….. seduces him over the check out counter jst for him to ask her to come back to his so she can lean back scandalised n cry “IS THAT THE KIND OF WOMAN U THINK I AM, PAUL?! YOU’RE A GHASTLY LITTLE MAN, YOU ARE….” with all the gusto of a telenovela. attracts the shocked glances of all surrounding elderly.

speaks fluent french. probably on her brief stint on tht reality show i mentioned earlier was like “ugh can you believe Deneurve of this guy?” n in her head was like this catchphrase is sensational it’ll catch on fast the twittersphere is abt to implode but it didn’t become a thing except for in a small isolated community. despite this she’s like “yeah it went viral….. go figure. just another day in the life.”

honestly like a lot of fun bt also a huge handful at the same time. keeps her real Serious emotions in a locked box bt is always overflowing w melodramatics n rly giving her all at the drop of a hat where Performing is concerned. probably Loves parties n sees them as another form of production in which she wants to b the lead. rly just. loves herself. except does she? 🤔 lifts my hand up like rihanna n winks. find out next time. lucky by britney plays as i slowly disintegrate in spiderman rp…..

WANTED CONNECTIONS

unrequited flame: willa burns thru people like matches. bright n fast. honestly i feel like she struggles to take romance seriously so it cld be fun to play around with someone who’s been singed by that in the past…. mayb they hd actual feelings whereas willa was just messing around n having fun…. living la vida loca so to speak…….. we can discuss a time frame or specifics to expand upon this but. sexy angst perhaps.

those she knew from childhood: willa moved to NY at 11 n i feel like it was very sudden n soon after the accident. maybe she didn’t even say goodbye. maybe they were rly close n all of a sudden she didn’t show up to school the next day n when they rode past her house on their bike the sign said sold and that was that. honestly very dramatic of her even at a young age. we love a disappearing act. houdini who?

acting rival: honestly jst feel like this cld be funny. willa’s so dramatic she’d be like i literally want them dead they’re a despicable little gremlin fr trying to steal my spotlight. cld be as simple as having auditioned a few times fr the same parts or something.

childhood sweetheart: i think it cld be rly cute n sad if there was someone that kind of echoed the dynamic her mum n dad had except she was the celeste n they were the marlon…. (open to any gender)…….. so like. willa was always very larger than life commanding attention in a room n they were more to the sidelines but they just kind of got each other n brought out the best in one another. added angst to the fact tht willa wld maybe want to avoid them as much as possible now bc it dredges up feelings she doesn’t want to confront where her parents r concerned n also in a way any possibility of them winding up together feels like sellotaping an expiration date to both of their foreheads in willa’s brain

someone who was either a fan of or also on the reality show willa was: i imagine it like a reinvention of the hills honestly except based in these irving beach houses…. probably didn’t run that long bt there was a bunch of drama on it mostly staged…… maybe they were willa’s love interest bt it was all fake fr the cameras…… it wasn’t like. a huge deal n didn’t rly catch flight so much where popularity’s concerned bt. cld be fun to play with <3

patti frands: jogs in high knees to translate that into party friends as i adjust my spectacles. willa’s very sociable bt she’s also like kind of full of herself n obnoxious so do with that what u will. KFHGKSHGKGHFSKG. she knows hw to have a gd time tho like growing up she was rly into the gay club scene n the drag scene in NY so like. let’s hear it fr the gays who know how to do it right <3

someone equally over the top: i luv the idea of willa having someone who just like runs with made up scenarios n roles she makes up on the spot n them hanging out is like a 24/7 improv session tht they reel random surrounding strangers just fr the fun thrill

the other woman: willa is quite detached n selfish so she wld easily be the other woman in a relationship n not care about it n this cld make for good spice <3

[chilling-seavey]

Heartbreak Hotel (d.s.) - Chapter One

A/N Hey there, ladies and gents! It’s time to be swept away into an alternate universe where 1950s LA is the place to be. This is my first ever soulmate au and it took a lot of planning to make everything fit just right so I hope you all enjoy! 

Summary: It’s 1958 and summer has just begun, sending the teenagers of Los Angeles into warm weather freedoms and part time jobs. Eighteen-year-old Daniel finds himself spending his days trying to find his soulmate and he refuses to give up until he has her.

Los Angeles in 1958 was a thriving city of luxury and fame; housing many of the greats and certainly more to come in upscale Beverly Hills mansions with top dollar views. They lived in their own worlds in the coastal city; unbothered by the working class with 9-5 jobs and single-family bungalows in the suburbs. To the everyday person, life in Los Angeles was more than nice with the beach on one side, the mountains on the other, and enough cultural entertainment to hardly ever be bored. People were happy you could argue and, in a sense that was true. Happy that they were able to settle down in that warm American Dream with the one they were destined to be with. Their soulmate.

This wasn’t a world full of lonesome heartbreak – unless one would choose to live that way – as everyone was assigned someone that they were meant to be with. By their eighteenth birthday, strange habits started to arise where you could taste whatever your soulmate was eating at any given time. It started faintly the day of your eighteenth birthday, as just a light sensation on your tongue, sort of like what it feels like to have a craving for a specific type of food. As weeks progressed it became more pronounced until after a month or so you could taste nearly exactly what they were eating as if you were eating it yourself.

It was something to get used to at first, but it was reality, and everyone went about their day to day lives with this invisible connection to the one they were destined to be with. Some people never found their soulmate – after all, the world had a population of almost three billion, so the odds weren’t always on your side – but eighteen-year-old Daniel refused to let that be his fate.

The second the clock hit midnight on April 2nd, 1958, Daniel shut his eyes really tightly in his bed and swirled his tongue around his mouth to try and taste something. You see, he was in love with the idea of love for as long as he could remember, and he had been counting down the days until he turned eighteen since he was old enough to know what numbers were. His parents had that perfect love story; high school sweethearts in 1935 where his father knew she was the one from the first week he turned eighteen, married and expecting their first child by 1936 and had three boys with a baby girl on the way before his father was drafted into the war in 1942. His father returned home in 1945 just as in love with his mother than ever before and the rest was history. Daniel wanted a story just like his parents; one where it all just fell into place.

The two-and-a-half months from the day Daniel turned eighteen to his high school graduation gave him absolutely no clue as to who his soulmate was. He tried scrounging the cafeteria at lunch time to see if any of the girls were eating that turkey sandwich he could taste or drinking that cold bottle of Coca-Cola, but he was met with no luck again and again. His soulmate seemed to eat something different everyday for each meal, but he soon came to realize that the only consistent thing was strawberry milkshakes. Usually around the time Daniel got off the school bus at home he’d lick his lips with the sweet flavour of strawberry and whipped cream that was rolling its way along his tongue.

He was just glad it wasn’t chocolate. He hated chocolate.

On the first real day of summer vacation, after graduation and their final high school dance, Daniel was staring out his bedroom window towards the street, impatiently waiting to see his older brother’s shiny red Thunderbird turning onto their street. Sure enough, he got a glimpse of the shiny red sports car in the distance and with an excited gasp, Daniel took off for the stairs.

“Christian’s home!” he shouted through the house, hopping the last three stairs and whipped open the front door just as the car pulled into the driveway.

He jumped off the porch as his parents came out of the house behind him and Daniel rushed to set his hands on the pretty red hood of the car that was still warm from the long drive from upstate.

The tired nineteen-year-old stepped out from the driver’s side and pulled off his sunglasses to offer a dimpled smile to his family, “Hey, you guys. What’s shaking?”

“Christian! How was college?” Daniel asked with a grin.

“Just swell, little brother. Why don’t you come help me bring my things upstairs? I have something for you.”

Daniel absolutely idolized his older brother, so he didn’t need to be asked twice to carry his things. As Christian headed for the porch to greet his mother with a kiss to her cheek and his father with a handshake, Daniel opened the trunk of the car to unload the bags. Out of the four Seavey children, Christian and Daniel were closest in age; Christian was only four months old when their parents fell pregnant with Daniel; leaving the two boys at only thirteen months apart. This made them very close and they shared a bedroom up until their oldest brother Tyler moved out for college a few years before. It was safe to say that when Christian was next to leave for school, Daniel had a hard time adjusting to life in the house without him.

But he was finally back, dressed in his usual slicked back dark brown hair and finished with a leather jacket. Leather was never usually Christian’s choice and Daniel let his eyes linger on the back of his brother’s jacket as he helped him carry his things upstairs to his room.

Christian stopped in the doorway to the left at the top of the stairs, poking his head into the light pink painted room, “Hey, ankle biter, I’m back. Did ya miss me?”

Their younger sister, Anna - a moody force to be reckoned with at fifteen - glanced up from her magazine she was reading on her bed, her record player playing quietly from on top of her dresser, “Didn’t even notice you were gone.”

“Did you get that Elvis guy to marry you yet?”

“Oh, shut up, Chris.” Anna blushed, throwing one of her stuffed animals at him before getting up to slam the door in his face.

Christian glanced back at Daniel with a small smile before heading into the room adjacent to toss his bag on his bed. Daniel set his suitcase by his closet and leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

“What’s with the new getup?” Daniel finally asked.

“Oh, this old thing?” Christian grinned, pulling at the hem of his leather jacket. “A buddy in the dorms threw this little bash back in the fall and there were all these swell guys there talking about this new fashion tread. Said it was what everyone’s doing now. I think it looks pretty good, don’t you?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?” Christian scoffed. “Well something’s coming to you of this whole business too.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. The guys got me a job at the car shop upstate for the year, I made a bit of dough, fixed up some wheels, and I’m even transferred to another shop down here for the summer. But with the big bucks I made since the fall I can afford a new car.”

“That’s great, Chris.” Daniel said slowly, unsure of where his brother was going with that.

“So I want you to have my T-Bird.” Christian tossed over the keys.

Daniel tried to grab them in his shock but fumbled them and they fell to the carpet. He bent down quickly to pick them up, “Are you pulling my leg?”

“Nope. Car’s all yours. That or I’ll resell it but I know you’ve had your eye on it since I first got it.”

“Yeah! Oh, boy! Thank you!” Daniel grinned.

“Only thing I ask is that you tell me how your birthday went.” Christian smirked, flopping back onto his bed. He leaned back against the headboard with his hands tucked behind his head and his shoes resting up on his bag.

Daniel bit back a small smile, sitting gently at the end of his older brother’s bed, the car keys still in hand, “It was nice. Mom made me a cake. Vanilla, of course. And I had a few friends over to watch a movie on tv and we ordered a pizza.”

“You know that’s not what I’m asking.” Christian kicked him with the toe of his shoe lightly.

Daniel’s whole family knew about how excited he was to turn eighteen, solely for the purpose of finally being able to find his soulmate. The younger brother blushed lightly through a smile.

“I haven’t found her yet. But she likes strawberry milkshakes.”

“Strawberry? Well, thank God it’s not chocolate or you’d be miserable.” Christian chuckled. “Think she goes to your school?”

“I dunno. High school’s over anyway. But I want to try and find her this summer. She’s gotta be in the city, right?”

“It’s a big city, little bro.” Christian said.

“You’ll help me, right?”

“I gotta work.” Christian shrugged. “Besides, I gave up on that junk.”

“That junk? Finding your soulmate?” Daniel frowned over at him. He thought back to the late-night talks in their shared bedroom when they were nine and ten, sitting up facing each other on their adjacent twin size beds, talking about what it would be like to grow up and find their soulmates.

Christian hummed, sliding his tongue over his lips and in his mouth, an obvious unaware habit that meant his soulmate was eating something right then. Daniel wondered what he could taste.

Christian clicked his tongue and sat up with a deep inhale as if to pull himself out of his own thoughts, “Yeah, no use stressing yourself over it. Plenty of swell birds around to find, right?”

“I guess.” Daniel mumbled.

“I gotta unpack my things. Why don’t you take the car for a spin before dinner?” Christian suggested, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

“Sure.” Daniel stood up, glancing down at the keys in his hand. “Thanks again.”

Christian only sent him a dimpled grin and Daniel left his brother’s room without another word. He walked down the stairs and to the front door, calling over his shoulder to his parents that he would be back in a little bit before heading for the driveway. Daniel hopped over the door of the convertible and settled into the red leather seats with his hands falling gently against the steering wheel. He let a small smile come to his lips as the engine roared to life and the familiar taste of strawberry milkshakes grazed his tongue.

[loveislattes]

Patience Is Key (Darkiplier/Fem!Reader) Chapter 1

Commission prompt:  Reader only knows that sex is pain, so Dark shows her otherwise...?

Caution! This story does contain mentions of past borderline-abusive relationship and there is one scene that slightly delves into the situation, but it never goes further than pushing and forced kissing.

This chapter is SFW other than some cursing. The next chapter will be the oh so lovely smutty bit. ^^ Chapter 2 will be out next week! 

“Ah, damn it!” 

The curse left my lips the second I finally registered that I had dropped the extremely large box of pots and pans on my toe, and not on the flat floor as intended. Jerking back, I fell into the rickety wooden chair behind me and pulled my injured foot up into my lap with a wince.

“Why am I such a fucking klutz?!” I wheezed through the pulses of pain. 

It took a few minutes of babying my poor toe but eventually, I managed to soothe away the pain and get back onto my feet. Why was it that toe injuries always felt so much worse than other injuries? As I debated that question, as well as the existential existence of pain at all, I got moving about the sparse kitchen once more. The boxes weren’t going to empty themselves after all and I only had the two days until I started my new job to get it all done. 

“Lord knows if I had to take one more extra day off, it’d be the end of the world,” I muttered under my breath.

Working retail had to be one of the worst career choices in the world. Sadly, it was all I could find for the time being and this new house mortgage, low as it was, wouldn’t pay itself; Not to mention that my savings were meager at best and wouldn’t last long if I had to rely on them, thanks to my problematic ex. 

This house was a blessing in disguise and I definitely couldn’t afford to lose it. A beautiful victorian-style two-story home at only four hundred fifty a month, with no real damage other than cosmetic updates needed? Yeah. It was practically impossible. My first thought was that it had a sordid past, whether drug crime or murder related, but that didn’t seem to be the case thankfully. The owners had inherited it and we’re willing to sell it for a steal just to get rid of it so they didn’t have to pay taxes and insurance. Their loss, my gain, apparently. 

I had gotten so lost in my thoughts about work and the house that I was done moving the last of the boxes before too long. Score one for daydreaming! 

I set about organizing my cabinets next, emptying the boxes one by one until they were all barren and tossed to the back of the room.

“That’s a problem for future-me,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair with a huff, “I guess dinner is next on the list. Never a better time to find out what take out they have around here!”

I meandered into the living room and plopped down on the worn couch, pulling my laptop into my lap. While waiting for the screen to wake up, I grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table and turned it on as well, needing the background noise with how silent the old home was. I’d definitely have to keep an eye on that or else I’d find myself creeped out even without anything happening. A random cartoon filled the large screen and jaunty music spilled from the speakers as the characters conversed. Shrugging, I tossed the remote back down on the table and returned to my laptop.

After logging in, a quick google search led me to a page full of restaurants both familiar and new to me. Moving to a big city definitely had its perks! 

“Now the question is which one,” I sighed. 

It took a few minutes of debating but I finally settled on ordering from a highly rated Chinese restaurant across town. I was promised my food in about twenty-five minutes and a delivery tracker popped up on the screen right after.

“That’s nifty!”

Setting the laptop back onto the table with the dimmed screen facing my direction, I let myself be pulled into the ridiculous antics of the cartoon characters on TV until a commercial came on. My eyes instinctively drifted over to the laptop to check on the tracker. The red line was about halfway across, indicating they would be leaving the store soon. Nice! Unfortunately, I also caught my reflection on the screen and couldn’t help but take a moment to fix my hair out of reflex. As I adjusted my top to look less wrinkled, I suddenly noticed a black shape in the background, near what would be the corner of the room behind the couch. I froze, heart pounding in my throat as my eyes widened.

“No way,” I whispered. 

Leaning in closer, I focused on the shadow. Too afraid to actually turn around and look, I hoped I could debunk it from this angle alone. I was just about convinced it was actually a part of the LCD going out in that one spot- when suddenly it moved!

“FUCK!”

An uncontrollable screech left my lips as I leaped up from the couch. Spinning to face the shadow, I reflexively snagged up the throw pillow on the couch and tossed it full force in that direction while trying to move away. Unfortunately, I forgot exactly where I was standing in the new layout and the fact that the table was behind me. I was reminded painfully of that fact as my calf muscle slammed hard into the solid wood and I went careening backward. I frantically tried to catch myself but only succeeded in slamming my elbow into the edge of the table and whacking my fingers against the floor in a way that made me see stars.  

Tears pricked behind my eyelids as I hissed through the urge to cry. I was about to lie in a puddle of agonizing defeat until I remembered the whole reason I fell. With a curse, I rolled over to my hands and knees, panting as I looked toward the offending part of the room. There was nothing there. No shadow and no reason I should have ever seen one there; no coat rack, no bookshelf, nothing. Just a bare wall. 

“What the hell was that?!” I groaned.

Now that there was no impending, visible, threat, I spent a good few minutes taking all my injuries into account. Sore calf, elbow, and fingers. Bruises were likely in each spot, unfortunately. Thankfully it didn’t get any worse than that. With my luck, I was surprised I didn’t crack my head open on the floor instead. It was with a heavy, defeated sigh, that I succumbed to the need to lay flat on the floor and catch my breath. 

“I’m losing it. That has to be it. All the stress of the move and being alone just got to me,” I assured myself quietly. 

I wasn’t sure how long I wallowed there in self-pity, but it couldn’t have been as long as it felt because I was soon roused by the sound of someone knocking at the door.

“Foooood!” 

Collecting my fallen pride and battle wounds, I scrambled up off the floor and rushed to the front door, snagging my wallet from my purse on the way. The delivery driver was nice enough and we made small talk as we exchanged food and money. I thanked him after he mentioned their loyalty program then shut the door before hesitantly making my way back into the living room. As I scanned the rather empty space, I was relieved to find it just as it was before; no shadows in sight. 

“I’m probably gonna have nightmares from that shit too,” I muttered, plopping onto the couch and popping open the box.

With a little shake of my head to clear my thoughts, I returned to the show and let the thoughts from the day slowly melt away with every mouth full of delicious food. 

…

It took two months of living in the new house to finally feel more at home. Most everything was put away and decorations filled the walls, warming up the once empty and creepy place. I no longer felt like an uncomfortably unwelcome stranger. The thought of that shadow did, unfortunately, still linger in the back of my mind every night though. I’d be fine all day until it was nighttime and dark in the house. Once the sun was down, it was like my gorgeous home was a totally different place. I didn’t see that moving shadow anymore, but I swore I saw things out of the corner of my eye and it constantly felt like I wasn’t alone. 

One particularly rough night left me searching the entire house for hidden cameras and trapped doors because I could have sworn I was being watched. Of course, I found nothing of the sort, but it didn’t lessen the fear by much. I even started making myself go to bed earlier than usual just to avoid being alone with my paranoid thoughts. Something had to give before I went crazy! 

I was even to the point of considering making new friends; Something to break up the monotony and constant feeling of being alone. Maybe inviting another person into the house would make the eerie feeling go away? One could hope! I wasn’t in the habit of bringing home people, due to my ex, but it was getting to the point where it might be necessary. A person could only take so much alone time!

A rapid knocking on my door tore me out of my lonely thoughts and back to reality with a jolt.

“Who could that be?” I muttered under my breath.

I hadn’t ordered any food and I was pretty sure I hadn’t ordered anything off Amazon recently. Uncurling from my nest of blankets, I hastened to the front door when the visitor knocked again. Impatient buggers weren’t they?

“I’m coming!”

Without thinking to check the peephole first, I pulled the door open and instantly recognized the horrible mistake I had made. I tried slamming the door shut before he could enter but already I was too weak with fear; simply seeing his menacing face leaving me powerless. He was easily able to catch the wood and shove his way in as if I weren’t even there. 

“Heeeey baby.”

I wasn’t even given a breath’s moment to respond. Instantly his hands were on my shoulders and I was slammed into the wall. Pain exploded through my skull and my knees weakened dangerously as I struggled through frustration and fear. 

“You thought ya could just move away and I wouldn’t find ya, baby? Ya outta know better’n that.”

The familiar sensation of bile rose in my throat when his lips smacked against mine. It took all of my resolves to hold it down. It would only add insult to my injury because he wouldn't give a damn and I’d be left worse for wear.

“Aw, come on. Play nice with me, won’t cha? It’s been far too long since I’ve seen ya.”

All I could manage was a timid shake of my head.

Fuck, it was like this any time he was around! Just being in his presence made the littlest of movements hard, like my body just instinctively gave up to avoid more trouble even though my heart told me to fight. If I could fight back, he’d probably back off after a while but I just couldn’t. Flashes of the times he tried to force himself on me, drunk and belligerent, held me back from it. Giving in was just easier, safer, in the long run.

I felt the numbing sensation of acceptance slide through my muscles when his mouth pressed on mine again. Disgust and hatred bubbled in my gut; not only for him but also for myself. So weak, pathetic.

Out of nowhere, the deafening sound of doors slamming rang through the air, causing us both to jump apart. With a Yelp, I clapped my hands over my ears to block out the painful noise as I looked around in shock for the source. To my utter disbelief, I found the cause to my cabinet doors, opening and shutting at breakneck speed. It only lasted for about half a minute before suddenly they stopped, just as abruptly as they had started. My astonishment was cut short by a cry from across the room. 

Having abandoned his pursuit, my ex now stood frozen near the door, ashen white and shaking. Upon closer inspection, I thought I could see a faint shadow around his throat but my line of vision was disrupted when he turned and rocketed out the door. Once the entryway was clear, the door shut calmly behind him. 

It was deadly quiet in the aftermath of whatever the hell happened. The sounds of my heavy breath were the only noises in the air. Scared, but thankful, I hesitantly surveyed the kitchen and the living room for any sign of what had caused the disruption. There was nothing, of course. Not even a hint of the shadow I had spotted months ago. 

Letting out a nervous sigh, I ran a hand through my hair and said, “Thank you… whoever you are."

I didn’t wait for a response before high tailing it to my room and diving under my fluffy comforter, torn between calling my mom or crying until I fell asleep. My body made the decision for me before I could contemplate it for long, shutting down and passing out quicker than anticipated. 

When I woke, it was dark in the room. The radio clock beside my bed read an irritating one thirty am. Despite having slept for six hours, I felt like I hadn’t slept a wink; nightmares resounding in my head like sirens the entire time. 

Rather than trying to force myself back to sleep, I slipped out of the bed, determined to get some hot tea or cocoa to help soothe my inner demons. Unfortunately, I spotted my reflection in my vanity mirror on the way by and I felt compelled to stop. My usually glowing skin looked pallor and lifeless and the bags under my eyes gave the same sentiment.

“Fucking hell,” I muttered, pulling at my bedhead locks in frustration, “I’m not gonna recover from this.”

My outside reflection was only a sliver of the mess that was inside my mind though. And I knew I would get over it in the long run but it always felt so impossible at the start. I just had to turn the sadness into anger. My thoughts were derailed by the sudden feeling of eyes on my back; That familiar itching sensation of being watched sending shivers down my spine. I didn’t see anything in the room around me but when I finally turned back to the mirror I spotted it; an eerily familiar shadow. It was only moments before there was a man suddenly standing behind me in the reflection. 

Although my mouth moved, trying to scream or make any sort of sound, nothing would come out. Scads of questions bombarded my already frazzled sense of sanity as I tried to scream until eventually a worrying sense of calm washed over me in place of the stilted panic.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured me as if reading my mind.

The low timbre of his voice made the rational part of my brain melt but the way it reverberated around the room sent my hairs standing on end. My body instinctively went stiff and still as his arms reached around my sides. Cool fingers rested on my forearms and slowly rubbed the goosebumps away in a soothing manner while he stepped closer. I could hardly meet his eyes in the reflection without feeling as if I were staring a predator head-on.

“How did you get in here?” I finally managed to ask. 

An absolutely devastatingly handsome smirk curled up his lips before he flashed large, sharp, pearly whites down at me. 

Oooh fuck, those were some pointy fangs. 

“I’ve been here the entire time, darling. You’re the one who barged in rather abruptly when you decided to move in.”

I began to question my sanity once more as his form slowly lost color and brightness in the mirror, becoming a barely distinguishable shadow behind me. Though his touch on my skin never diminished, to the eye he was nearly invisible. Just as gradually, he filtered back into view. 

His reasoning was lost to me as I tried to figure out just what was going on until eventually, it clicked.

“You’re the mother fucking shadow that has been driving me insane, aren’t you?!” I shouted, jerking out of his reach and spinning to face him, “Just how in the hell did you do that? Why have you been scaring me? What-”

His hand came up swiftly and I froze immediately, only able to watch as he cupped my jaw. A whimper reflexively slipped out as his thumb pressed against my lips. 

“To answer your questions in order: Yes, I am. Shifting is just one of my many abilities. I have not meant to scare you, well, not these last few weeks anyhow. I’ve become- let’s call it- fascinated. Most would have left by now and yet here you stand, heels dug in like a stubborn mule. You’re intriguing.”

The moment he released his hold, I found myself asking, “What are you?”

“What do you think I am?” he retorted, stepping back and slipping his hands into his pockets.

I simply shrugged. How should I know? Before now, I didn’t believe in anything supernatural, but now I was questioning that stance.  

“A demon? A ghost?” I replied.

He hummed momentarily before cocking his head to the side, eyes narrowing as they burned into mine. 

“Does that scare you?”

So many freaking questions! I scrubbed a hand over my face wearily before slapping my palms against my thighs and mentally admitting defeat.

“Unless you’re going to kill me, no. You were terrifying in that shadow form but now that I’ve seen you face to face, I’m not so scared. Don’t get me wrong, I have a healthy respect for you but it’s also comforting to see that you’re not some decayed-looking ghost who is going to warp my face by looking me in the eyes,” I hesitated as another realization hit me hard then carefully added, “Not to mention, I’m pretty sure you’re what saved my ass earlier… right?”

There was a flurry of emotions across his face as his brows knitted together before he seemed to relax some and amusement showed at last. 

“You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

I shrugged in response before finally slipping past him to sit on the bed, the shakiness of my legs becoming too much to bear. I could put on a brave face but my body could give way any second. I had been through too much in the last twenty-four hours. Once seated and more comfortable, I met his gaze again. 

“Am I right? Were you the one that scared him away?”

He hummed and tilted his head once in a positive indication before adding, “Luckily for him, he’s as cowardly and self-concerned as most of you humans. Had that not have worked, I would have been forced to take further measures.”

The way his echo deepened and his fangs flashed in an animalistic snarl sent more goosebumps up my arms and neck. Fucking hell. My emotions were having a hard time keeping up through it all; enamored by his good looks, terrified by his powerful aura, curious about his existence. He was, simply put, overwhelming. 

If it wasn’t for his discoloration, echoing voice, and the fangs, he’d seem like any ordinary human. A very attractive human at that… I had to stop that train of thought right there! I’d be just like me and my horrible taste in men to get a crush on the ghost- demon- thing.

“So, um, you said you were here before me. Are you stuck here, like a ghost or something?” I managed to ask while rubbing my goosebumps away. 

“No. This is merely a residence of convenience. Your closet holds a portal to my realm and it’s the simplest way in and out for me. I choose to stay here when I must remain in the human world for any amount of time. You’re the first person to live here in decades.”

I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest in bewilderment when he suddenly moved towards the bed at an inhuman speed. A reflexive flinch had me jerking away when he reached out for me but he was quicker, hand snagging my chin to keep my gaze solely on him.

“Your turn to answer a question for me,” he stated without giving any room for argument, “Who was that man from before, and what is his concern with you?”

Eyeing him warily, I chewed on my lip then answered honestly, “My ex. I wouldn’t say he’s necessarily concerned about me. More so he’s concerned about losing his control over me. He was borderline obsessive and abusive.”

“Do you foresee him being a problem in the future?”

That was a hell of a question. Would he be back? I didn’t even really consider that after how fast he’d run away before but it was always a possibility.

“I honestly don’t know. I guess I should invest in some ADT or something, huh?” I half-assed joked, forcing on a weak smile.

The flat line of his lips told me that he didn’t find my statement as funny as I did. However he did, at last, relinquish his hold on me. 

“I will not stand for a brain dead ape damaging my property. If he comes back, he will be taken care of once and for all.”

Some little devious part of my mind dared to question if he was actually talking about the house, or if he was subtly making a claim over me. The domineering air around him made it seem like a slight possibility. I felt the heat flare over my cheeks before I could stop it and quickly wrapped my arms around my chest defensively before sinking back further onto the bed.

As if a private moment were suddenly disrupted, he cleared his throat loudly and stepped back while adjusting his suit jacket.

“I need to be going. It was nice to officially meet you. If it sits well with you, I will be more prominent around the house since I no longer need to avoid you.”

I nodded and awkwardly replied, “Yeah, er, that’s fine. I mean, it’s more your home than mine anyway, right?”

He made a noise of agreement then turned toward the closet, but stopped with his hand on the doorknob. There was an indescribable expression on his face when he turned back; the whites of his eyes darker than before. 

A smirk that could only be read as cruel crossed his lips and he said, “You may call me Dark. If he comes back when I’m not here, simply ask for me and I’ll be here.”

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I thought about WandaVision

Y'know, it's kind of crazy to think that it's been over a year since we've been given any content involving the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Marvel Studios announced so many great movies, on top of new TV shows that actually impact the story, way back in the summer of 2019. But then 2020 happened. Resulting in everything, and I mean everything, we were promised getting pushed back for another year. So, when it was finally announced that the series WandaVision was, at last, ready to be released, fans were both excited as well as skeptical. Because the first thing that would reintegrate us back into this franchise would be a show about how two Avengers are stuck in a sitcom. It might be new, long-awaited content, but it also doesn't sound all that interesting. Could a story involving two characters who have yet to stand on their own be enough to carry a brand new adventure? Well, for eight whole weeks, fans were given that answer. And personally, I will admit that WandaVision might have been better than anybody could have ever expected...for the most part.

(Final spoiler warning if you haven't seen the show yet)

WHAT I LIKE

It Just Goes: This is easily the best way the series could have started. We are given no context about what is going on. We're just shown that Wanda and Vision are currently stuck in a sitcom, and that's it. By making it a mystery, fans are given this sort of interaction with the series as they find clues and come up with theories about how and why this happened. Sure, some assumptions were more far fetched than others (did people think Mephisto was confirmed just because of one misinterpreted line involving the Devil?), but it still makes the show a ton of fun to watch. Plus, even when we're given answers, it's only tiny pieces of the puzzle. We're always given a chance to figure out the bigger picture, resulting in an image that is, I'll admit, somewhat satisfying to see. Just as long as you ignore the crybabies who get upset that their favorite theories turned out to be wrong.

The Homages are on Point: I also love how straight the cast and crew play with the idea of two superheroes being stuck in a series of sitcoms. Everything they use fits in the era each sitcom takes place in. With things like camerawork, set design, special effects, acting quality, tropes, and even theme songs, everything works as a proper homage than just having two episodes in black and white and the rest in color. Each new sitcom that Wanda and Vision are rebooted in feels so genuine, to the point where they seem like they could be actual shows that could have existed. Seriously, my dad showed me stuff like The Dick Van Dyke Show when I was a kid, so trust me when I say that the very first episode nails the style that it's honoring. Not only is it charming as all forms of hell, but it also works in making these moments when characters break from the spell (get it) all the more jarring and even disturbing at times. Because when you're so keen on watching what seems like a fun and cheesy sitcom, you feel a bit unsettled when a character suddenly acts in a way that's a tad foreboding. Still, it's fun to watch and is easily the central hook for what makes this show work.

The Comedy: The homages also nail the comedy that came from each type of sitcom. The jokes fit with each period, from the cheesy and charming 50s to the cynical and dry 90s and early 2000s. It's another thing the writers play straight with, and I think it works. The only jokes made by most stories like this are just pointing out that these serious characters are stuck in a silly sitcom. Instead, the writers tell jokes that work for the period it's in, and it is all genuinely funny if you're used to those types of goofs and gags. If you didn't laugh, that's because the comedy isn't trying to reach out to you. It's reaching out to the people who actually watched these types of sitcoms. Or, in my case, the type of people who had their parents show them these types of sitcoms. And even then, I still think there are these lines and deliveries that are still funny even if you don't get the joke. For example, there's this brief moment with Vision and a toy baby that got a genuine chuckle out of me for how absurd it was. I wasn't expecting to laugh that much, but on top of the many surprises this show gave, being funny was definitely one of them.

“My husband, and his indestructible forehead”: He...hehe...hehehehahahaHAHAHAHA! AH! HA! HA! HA! 

*Slowly starts sobbing*

>Squeaks<

I see what you did there.

Paul Bettany as “Vision,” “Vision,” and Vision: Can we give Paul Bettany a round of applause for basically playing three different characters, each with their own varying levels of emotions and purposes? Because goodness gracious, this man is a champion! I've seen tons of people praise Elizabeth Olson for her performance as Wanda, and to be fair, she does do a fantastic job...aside from one blatant issue (which I'll get into later). But as great as Olson is, Bettany still deserves some credit. Throughout most of the series, he has this level of comedic-timing that I didn't even know he was capable of, by going ham or just having a dry wit. Seriously, was someone going to tell me that Paul Bettany can be funny, or was I supposed to find that out for myself? On top of being hilarious, Bettany delivers such raw emotion that none of us would have ever expected from this character. That screaming match “Vision” has with Wanda shows the very first time that any version of him has ever been angry, and Bettany does a great job at making that moment as jarring as it needed to be. And that's just from playing one version of the character! I didn't even talk about how he nails the naive yet still wise Vision from the flashback in "Previously On" or the cold and robotic "Vision" from "The Series Finale." Bettany has range, and WandaVision is a great show that proves how. One just needs to have the right amount of vision to see it (HhhhhhhhhhhHA!)

Developing Wanda: But as great as Paul Bettany, and to a lesser extent, Vision, is, Wanda Maximoff is clearly the star of the show here (And yes, I know that it's Wanda who's the character and Elizabeth Olson is the actor, but...I'll get into it!). If WandaVision has taught me anything about these Disney+ shows, it's that we are finally going to get some long-awaited development to characters that are starved from it. And Wanda definitely needed it. Don't get me wrong, Wanda was great in past movies but wasn't that compelling of a character. Here, trust me when I say that the opposite is true. 

We are given a deep dive into not only Wanda's morality but also her psyche. The writers really play around with how scary Wanda can be. As well as questioning if Wanda has the capability of being evil. Because, yeah, what she did was not right. True, our "heroine" was going through some rough s**t, but that doesn't excuse the amount of torture Wanda put the people of Westview through, no matter how unwittingly. Just look at that scene where everyone grills Wanda about what she's doing to them, not only pleading for whatever compromise they can get and even begging for her to kill them instead. That is dark! That is the darkest concept the MCU has ever offered, and the ending of Avengers: Infinity War exists!

But, while it doesn't entirely excuse everything, there is a reason why Wanda did all of this. You see, throughout WandaVision, Wanda goes through the five stages of grief. It all starts with denial as she pretends to live in a sitcom that she created where Vision is alive, and they get to even have kids together. Soon comes anger when she destroys anything and physically harms anyone that tries to bring her back to reality. Next, there's bargaining as Wanda strengthens her hex and expands it to keep outsiders out and keep Vision in. This leads to depression as the weight of all of Wanda's actions finally sinks in, and she's forced to realize the damage she's causing. Until all of it ends with acceptance, as Wanda finally, finally, gets to say goodbye to Vision. Something she never really got when Thanos ripped the mind stone out of Vision's forehead. It's both incredible to watch as it is fascinating. Wanda, through the course of her own little spin-off series, just went from a decent character to one of the most intriguing to dissect in the MCU. And we have this show to thank for it.

The Commercials: These commercials offer three things.

They're more homages to classic television, each product and filming for each one honoring how commercials looked in each era.

They offer more of an insight into Wanda's psyche as we see how each commercial shows bits of her history, regrets, and deepest desires. You see all of the above in the Lagos' paper towel commercial.

There are neat bits of foreshadowing of what's to come, like how Hydra Soak ends by saying it's for "your inner goddess" or how the 90s commercial ends by saying Magic isn't meant for the weak.

With all of that, these commercials are as fun to analyze as they are disturbing as hell.

The Dinner Scene: This was the moment it was clear that WandaVision wasn’t going to just be fun and games. The second that "Mr. Heart" starts screaming at Wanda about why she and Vision came, it becomes clear that the whole wacky scenario our heroes are in isn't as harmless as we all thought. And when "Mrs. Heart" playfully tells her husband to stop it when “Mr. Heart” starts choking, only to desperately scream at Wanda to stop it, audiences begin to piece together that the people of Westview are prisoners--no--victims. As for Wanda? She's the unknowing dictator forcing them to do what she says. And it was this scene that I knew I was going to really enjoy this show.

The Blip Scene: And it was this scene that made WandaVision skyrocket into top-tier MCU territory! As much as I love Spider-Man: Far From Home, I will admit that making a joke with the concept of something like the blip might not have been the best move. But showing the chaos of everyone coming back all at once? On top of showing the confusion that a person would have from being told that a five-second nap was five years? Yeah, that's more in line with what we want.

Returning Characters: Not only was I surprised by the fact that these pretty minor characters in the MCU made a return at all, but I was also shocked to find out they work better in this series than they did in their respective movies. First, there's Monica. Not only is she reintroduced as a brand new hero (with, admittingly, confusing superpowers), but she also works as the anti-Wanda. Both characters had someone they care about dearly die without getting a chance to say goodbye. The difference is that Monica doesn't have the abilities Wanda does and is instead forced to quickly accept that her mom is dead and won't come back. She even admits that she would bring her mom back if she could. But that just makes Monica the perfect person that Wanda needs. A person that understands where she's coming from and tries to convince Wanda to do the right thing, no matter how hard it is. Monica's methods may have been a tad bit sloppy, but she is still ten times more intriguing than that little girl who screwed around with the color scheme on Captain Marvel’s suit.

Then there's Jimmy Woo, who is both funnier here than in Ant-Man and the Wasp, and actually shows signs of being a competent FBI agent. A step up, I might add, from the hilariously incompetent character we saw in his previous appearance.

And also, Darcie is here...and still slightly annoying...but at least she still has a couple funny lines here and there! Which is more than I can say with Thor and Thor: The Dark World.

In my opinion, it's a good move having these characters with pretty small roles in vastly different stories make a return. It shows that they are not limited to their one little corner of the MCU. And that they can branch off into taller tales that suit them perfectly. It's pretty cool, and it makes me wonder what other small characters could make a triumphant return.

Billy and Tommy: These two are...fine. Billy and Tommy give me Zach and Cody vibes sometimes, the kids playing them do a decent job, and they both offer some great emotional moments. The problem is that out of the list of characters that WandaVision introduces and reintroduces, there's not much to talk about with Billy and Tommy. Honestly, the only reason why I briefly mentioned that I like them is that I don't want dozens of people crucifying me for not saying anything about them. I don't hate them, but I don't much care for them either.

Evan Peters as Quicksilver: Although I would have loved it if it was Aaron Taylor-Johnson who made a return, seeing Evan Peters in a good Marvel movie again is more than worth it. He plays a much more fun version of Quicksilver while still nailing the sibling relationship the character has with Wanda. In a way, it's a lot like how Marvel cast J.K. Simmons as J Jonah Jameson at the end of Spider-Man: Far From Home. It's admitting that no one could have played the character better than this one actor and briefly making fans happy in the process. While also not doing something crazy like having it be the exact same Quicksilver from the X-Men movies. Only f**king idiots would believe something like that...

...

...But hypothetically speaking, let's say some people were stupid to believe that. While making an outrageous claim that the writers "lead them on to doing so." In which case, I will say the same thing that one would say when friend-zoning someone: "Nobody led you on to s**t. You were just too busy focusing on what you wanted to see instead of what you needed to see."

Because there was no evidence that it was the same Quicksilver other than the fact that it was the same actor. And, hypothetically speaking, if there were dozens of crybabies who were upset about it not being the same Quicksilver, then I have so much more respect for this character being nothing more than a boner joke. Because you did this to yourselves...hypothetically speaking.

Retconning Wanda’s Powers: ...I'm ok with this. Retcons happen all the time in the comics, as well as in movies and television. It's just a matter of making the retcon believable enough where there are few holes in what you're telling people. As for Wanda apparently having magic this entire time, but the mind stone amplified her powers? I can buy that. Besides, it's an acceptable excuse to make Wanda as powerful as she is in the comics (from what I've been told), so like I said, I'm ok with this.

“I can’t feel you…”: ...That's fine. I didn't need my heart anyway.

“Vision’s” Talk with “Vision”: Forget the horrible CGIed battles. I want more of this!

Now, I put both Visions in quotation marks because while they're both the same character, they're also...not the same. Which is, funnily enough, what this scene is: A philosophical discussion between two versions of the same android about what makes them both/neither the definitive version. One may look the same, and the other may be the same body, but neither "Vision" really is the true Vision. However, the fact that these two stop their fighting so they can have this discussion in the first place helps secure that while different, they are still the same. It's a thought-provoking discussion, and it is ten times more interesting to watch than Wanda and Agatha's CGI fight in the sky. Although it is kind of odd that White-Vision just peaces out the second Hex-Vision gives him a reboot. But hey, that's for the future movies to deal with.

“Thank you for choosing me to be your mom.”: >Deep inhale<...Girl.

Wanda Saying Goodbye to Vision: >DEEPER INHALE< HOOOOOOOOOOO BOY! I did not expect this much emotional turmoil from f**king WANDAVISION!

Joking aside, this is a well-handled scene. It's incredibly emotional to see these two characters say goodbye to each other as their arcs come to a close. "Vision" peacefully leaves knowing who he is in the world, and Wanda can finally start moving on as she gets to say goodbye to her one true love. It's as bittersweet as it is beautiful.

WHAT I DISLIKE

MCU logos flashing in every episode: You know how CinemaSins has this bulls**t excuse about how the MCU opening logo wastes time to get to the good stuff? This is the only instance where that's applicable. Because the opening logo was cool to see again for the first episode, but having it play in every single one after breaks the immersion when trying to binge the series. It's for a couple of seconds, sure, but after a while, it does get pretty annoying.

Elizabeth Olson as Scarlet Witch: Now, to be clear, I have no problems with Elizabeth Olson's acting ability in this series. She juggles being funny, heartbreaking, and threatening so well that I am likely to laugh and cry with her as I am to s**t my pants while in her presence. Elizabeth Olson does a great job with this character. The problem? Well, in the comics, Wanda Maximoff is Roma, and Elizabeth Olson...isn't. This means that WandaVision, and the MCU as a whole, has a bad case of white-washing.

I could go on about the issues this brings, but I am not as educated about this subject, and all I know is just stuff that seems like common sense. For instance, I believe it is more than reasonable to hire an actor of a specific race or ethnicity for a character who is of a that same race or ethnicity. But that is as far as my knowledge and personal stance goes, and to expand on it would be too much of a risk because I have no right to criticize the representation of something I am not a part of. So instead, I'm going to point you to @earnestdesire‘s blog and Jessica Reidy’s article on the subject. They do a great job at discussing the issues with Olson’s Wanda and pointing to the issues the MCU has in representing Wanda and Pietro's representation in the comics. And they do it in a far better way than I ever could have. So check them out to truly see why, despite doing a great job, Elizabeth Olson should not be the person donning the suit.

It Was Agatha All Along: AND I STILL F**KING HATE THAT!

I know, I know, I am in the minority on this one. And I still don't understand why! To me, Agatha has all of the problems that Hans has in Frozen. Sure, there are hints if you pay more attention during a few select scenes that are slightly questionable. Like how she refers to Wanda as "the star of the show" or coincidentally shows up with a dog house for Sparky. However, much like how Frozen didn't need a villain like Hans, WandaVision didn't need a comic book villain like Agatha. The story was perfectly passable as a personal conflict involving Wanda's grief where the only obstacle was the director of S.W.O.R.D. and his agents. There is nothing Agatha adds to that.

"But she helps Wanda find out what happens!" Yeah, but Monica could have done the same thing by actually breaking through to Wanda and calmly asking what happened. From then on, they could have worked things out together by having Wanda retrace events that transpired through the information that Monica knows as well.

"But Agatha helps Wanda realize what she's doing is wrong!" So could Vision! He could have shown up, did that mind-meld thing to the townspeople, and Wanda would finally learn what she was doing was wrong through the person she trusts the most.

"But Agatha helps Wanda learn that she's the Scarlet Witch!" Ok...but did that need to happen in this series? Because when you think about it, when the central conflict is all about exploring Wanda's grief, throwing in this narrative about becoming the Scarlet Witch has little to do with anything. Meaning that if you cut it from the story, little would change other than cutting a CGI battle that everyone agrees is the worst part of the series.

The most Agatha adds to the story is a secondary conflict that could easily be cut, and the overall quality would stay the same, if not better. And that is a problem. Agatha needs to add to the central conflict in a way that no other character could have. Like, give her a reason to be involved in Wanda’s life that goes beyond feeding off her magic and leading Wanda to her destiny. Because as is, even if you argue that Agatha is a good twist villain, she's a villain that really didn't need to be here.

Director Haywood: But as much as I don't like Agatha, I think we can all agree that Director Haywood is the worst villain in the MCU. Because one issue that Haywood has is a lack of motivation. For instance, why does he try so hard to write off Wanda as this supervillain? It was never explained, and for something so bizarre and crucial to his character, I feel like it needed to be. It would be passable if he was motivated out of fear and ignorance, but Haywood goes so far as to misedit security footage to prove his point. And I don't get why.

Is he sexist?

Did Wanda not show up at his kid's birthday party?

Did he secretly want to use Vision as a sexbot and didn't want Wanda to get between them?

I don't know, and I'll never know.

Plus, on top of having no motivation, Haywood is just forgettable. Agatha may piss me off to no end, but at least I'll remember her. I honestly forgot Haywood's name half the time, and I'm willing to bet that you did too. Case in point, his name isn't even Haywood. It's Hayward. And in the off chance that you didn't even know about that misspelling just proves my point about how forgettable Hayward is. While it's one thing to be hated, it's another to be forgotten. Because that just means that you left so little impact that you aren't even worth getting upset about.

------

And that is what I thought about WandaVision. If I had to base this off my usual score, I'd have to give the show the same 7/10 that everyone else gave it. Because there's a lot that I love, but the stuff that I hate is so problematic that it takes the WandaVision down on a couple of notches. It's still a fantastic series with a solid story, a great message, incredible acting, and phenomenal character development. It's just that not everyone is going to be willing to tune in as much as you might think.

[consultingsister-aa]

five times kissed (seb and cee but alt politics for spice)

THIS MEME for: @epiitaphs verse: alt poltical 

I.

It had started on their very first lecture with Professor Campbell. Celia has answered his question with ease, she knew all the dates, all the facts, all the names. She was just getting ready to bask in the glory of already identifying herself as best in the class when a voice, a male voice, two rows back started.

“Actually, wasn’t it Nicholson, not Nicholas?”

It was a ridiculous, unimportant fact. There was no need for him to even point it out; it didn’t change any fo the facts of the case. As Celia turned to shoot daggers at the boy, he smiled at her. Not a friendly, apologetic smile but a gloating, lazy grin. She hated Sebastian Moran.

Over the term, they continued in this fashion. Every time Celia or Seb raised a hand to answer a question, the other would sit up, lean closer, wait for someone to slip up. If there was nothing to be corrected, they offered a rebuttal. “While I see where Miss Holmes is coming from…” matched “I can understand where Moran would get that idea, however…”. It was a careful and considered game of intellectual tennis and no one was enjoying it quite as much as each other.

Six weeks in, Campbell would pause after every comment made by either and look to the other. On their final day in class before the Christmas break, after Celia had offered an almost perfect argument for the case, Campbell looked to Seb. As did Cee. Seb simple raised his hand and offered a shrug. “I think she’s right.”

Celia was furious.

They had never spoken outside of class before, other than to offer snide remarks as they waited outside the lecture hall. She found out where his room was from a friend and, upon finding it, knocked gently. And then harder. And then, harder still, banging her fist against the door. She could hear him shouting I’m coming, I’m coming from inside but continued to hammer, until he yanked the door open. As he took her in, that stupid arrogant smile returned.

“What did you mean when you said, I think she’s right? What did you mean by that?”

Seb gave a disbelieving laugh. “That you were… correct? Do you want to have a fight over that?”

“No, but you fight me on everything else. So why not today?”

“I thought you were right today.”

Celia gave a furious little huff and stormed away from his door, only to storm right back to him. “You know what I think? I think-- I think you’re an arsehole, with no manners.”

“Yeah? Well, I think you’re a spoiled brat who’d never heard the word no, in her life.”

Cee steps closer to him, teeth bared in a snarl. In fact, she’s so close she needs to tilt her head to talk to him. There are only a couple inches in their heights, but with their chests nearly touching, it matters. “I am cleverer than you. I will do better than you. I will bury you.”

His smile doesn’t drop as she hoped, in fact, he arches an eyebrow. “Is that a promise, Holmes?”

An actual growl escapes her before she throws her arms around his neck and smashes her lips against his. He reciprocates, despite himself maybe and before long, he’s letting her pushing him back into his room, slamming the door behind her. A whole semester of foreplay had been leading to that moment and they did not disappoint.

II.

Celia loved being married. Although she had not taken her husband’s name, there was something in the way her lecturers said Ms. instead of Miss that set her apart from her fellow students; especially the girls. It was that drawn-out zzz sound that did it. She was a head above the rest of them; one step closer towards the finish line. When her friends said boyfriend, she might have laughed at them, how immature. How childish. They wouldn’t know until they knew.

And this wasn’t all in her head either. Despite themselves, despite their education and personal ambition, the girls around Cee felt it too. Celia knew things they wouldn’t know for years; the secrets of a wife. Even though some of the girl’s condemned marriage as a modern form of slavery they too fell into the trappings of 1950. Everything had changed and nothing had. When Celia lay out her hand on the table, catching her ring in the light, they sighed enviously as Celia had hoped. What did it matter about her masters in law, when she had a man. Personally, she’d rather have the degree but she knew, as she moved forward in life, it would be her ability to find, capture and keep a man that everyone would be really impressed by.

It was for this reason that they gathered with her outside the lecture hall, where she had agreed to meet Seb on that Friday night. They wanted to be witnesses to it, as if being in close proximity to a married couple brought them closer towards marital bliss themselves. Cee didn’t say very much. She played it off as unbothered coolness but in reality, she was distracted by the conversion by her own excitement. It wasn’t exactly Seb she was excited for, but just to be seen with him again. To become the weekly gossip; what did Cecelia do with her husband this weekend? They all wanted to know what these strange married creatures do.

“Oh, is that him now?” A friend piped up, trying to cough over her excited squeal. Cee might have laughed at her; as if you don’t know. She looks up and lazily closes her book.

“Yeah. Alright, see you on Monday.”

“Are you not coming to Sunday study night then?”

“Oh, I forgot. I’ll see what Seb is doing. I actually might need to go into the city with him for a dinner with his boss, or something.” She rolls her eyes to make it look like she can’t be bothered with it. It’s not even true, there was a dinner the week and no partners were invited but it gave Celia a prick of pleasure to imagine them all discussing it at the Sunday study night.

She doesn’t run into his arms, instead closing the gap between them with a slow, casual walk and an easy smile. They were close enough that Seb could call out to the other girls and wave. It was nice of him to throw them a bone, Cee thought.

When she did greet him, it was with a hand on the back of his neck so she could pull him down for a long, deep kiss. In fact, knowing the girl’s eyes were on them, she stayed longer than normal.

“What was that for?” Seb asked, pulling back from her.

“Nothing. Just happy to see you. How was your train?”

III.

It wasn’t fair to say that Cee and Seb weren’t affectionate. Sure, they didn’t hold hands unless they needed to and loving embraces tends to either come before or after sex but they had their moments. People noticed the way, if Seb was setting, Celia would stand behind him and squeeze his shoulders. Or, if something thrilling, shocking or wonderfil happened, they would immediatly look towards one another, if to check in, or delight in it. And while they slept on the same side of the bed due to the fact Seb refused to get buy a double bed for the four years they slept together in university, they still did it. They had to count for something. There was cards or flowers or weekly dates but that didn’t mean there wasn’t love. Cee loved Seb more than anyone in the world and she was quiet confident he felt the same way.

Which is what made Katherine’s death all the harder. A casm had opened up between them and she saw no real way to get over it. The evening they had returned home to an empty nursery, Celia had feverishly Googles how she was supposed to feel; how to deal with the loss of a child; the staged of grief. Her own feelings didn’t align with any of them.

What she really felt was annoyance. The plan that they had agreed to had fallen apart. All that work for nothing. And there was now a black stain on her history. A bump on the road. They would have to tell people, for the next couple weeks, everyone would skirt around her like she was a wounded animal they didn’t know what to do with. How did you comfort Cecelia Holmes when she had no interest in being comforted? How to comfort Sebastian Moran, then?

She stood in the baby pink bedroom, gripping onto the cot rail, willing herself to feel the loss. The sweet little baby; that looked like every other bbay she had ever seen. So a future lost; one likely filled with trauma and resentment, with her as a mother. She banged her palm against the wood and swore. It was only then she realised Seb was behind her. Her movement was guilty, spinning around and holding her hands begind her back as if she had something to hide.

“I was just thinking of packing some things away.” She cleared her throat, motioned around the room. “I’ll ask someone if there is somehwere we could send it. Thinking of others in our time of grief, it’s a good look.” She could hear herself plotting and regretted it but it was all she wad capable of. Celia let go of the cot and moved to hold him, her arms around his shoulders, her mouth at his ear. “We’ll get through this. I think it was meant to be this way; just the two of us.” She almost said she preferred it this way but that felt too harsh; too soon. “If you need to talk to someone, perhaps you should? Better to deal with it now then have it drag out.”

When she pulled back, she held onto his face, more tired than she had seen it in a long time and she knew she was getting it all wrong. Cee, who always knew what to say, had nothing. So she kissed him instead and tried, probably failing, to put more into it than she could manage. The key phrase however was, I’m sorry. Sorry she’s not a good wife, sorry their child died and she’s talking about press opportunities, sorry he got his hopes up, sorry nothing will come of this.

IV.

“--THE PRESS ASSOCIATION IS REPORTING MULTIPLE CASUALTIES AND UNCONFIRMED FATALITIES JUST OUTSIDE THE HOUSE OF COMMONS--”

“Sydney, turn that up, turn that up!”

The TV’s picture, perched on top of a filing cabinet only offered shaky phone camera footage of the street Celia knew well. In fact, with one of the sudden movements upward, she was sure she could see Seb’s office window. The clipped tones of the BBC new anchor filled the room.

“--IS UNDERSTOOD THAT THE LONE MAN DROVE INTO A CROWD OF PEOPLE OUTSIDE PALACE OF WESTMINSTER AND THEN CONTINUED ON FOOT, WHERE HE BEGAN STABBING--”

“Call my husband, call him now, his mobile.”

Celia is already pulling on her jacket, eyes glued to the TV but listening out for the rings. By the third ring, she’s heading to the door. Usually, no rings meant he was in a meeting; the phone was on don’t disturb and she’d have to call back another two times for it to even go through; something she hadn’t ever had to do yet. If he was talking with someone, briefly, he would hang up after one ring. Past three rings, with no pick up? She didn’t remember the last time.

“Cee, you shouldn’t go into--” Syd stood up behind her desk but Cee held up a hand.

“Text me if there are any updates worth knowing. Call him again, keep calling him.”

There was no point trying to get a taxi, if there really was a terrorist attack happening in the middle of the city, it would be gridlock and the police wouldn’t be letting anyone in any way. So she would walk the twenty minutes to Seb’s office; she could cut it down to fourteen minutes if she kept up her brisk walk, ocassiaonlly, if panic set in, a restrained run.

Police tape, camera crews, ambulances and armed police officers surrounded most parliamentary buildings. The end of street was cordoned off but from her vantage point, she could see at least three sheets covering bodies. It was ridiculous to imagine Seb under one of them but it’s exactly where her mind went. She couldn’t explain it, not even to herself but she’d had a nagging feeling all day that something terrible was gong to happen, not just this, in London, but to her personally. She stares, unseeing at one of the sheets before a voice drifts across to her, one of the offers. “--Moran is going to--”

“What did you say?” She barks at him and a man seems to used to follow commands to argue with her, although she seems to have also scared him. “What did you say about Moran?”

Sheepishly, he draws closer. “Only that Mr Moran was directing his staff to--”

“To where?” Of course, of course, he’s alive. “Where is he?”

“I think they were going to Lady Chapel,” and then, as an afterthought, “ma’am.”

Celia didn’t hang around any longer that she needed to. She didn’t know why she ran this time, heels hitting the pavement with an ungodly amount of noise. If Seb was well enough to be directing people somewhere, there was no real need to worry. But something had shaken her when she had heard the news. It was the first time she had really considered what it might be like if Seb did die. They had been partners, in one way or another, for nearly fifteen years and all her future plans and hopes were pinned upon him.

She rounded the corner and stopped to catch her breath, smooth out her coat, look less worried. When she looked up, she saw him immediately; standing by the church’s doors, talking seriously with a police chief. He only glanced in her direction and had to do a double-take.

“What are you doing here?” Seb asked, moving over to her.

“You weren’t answering your phone.” Annoyingly, she’s still breathless.

“Bit of an emergency. Did you run?”

Maybe to avoid the embarrassing question, maybe because she was so relieved to see him standing, she threw her arms around him and kissed him, with slightly more passion than normal. She couldn’t say for sure, but she thought Seb kissed her back with a matched ferocity and held her a little tight than normal too. Maybe he was glad to see her too.