#& i appreciate being asked about it because i figured sooner or later i'd be making this post sfkjdfs

[kairi101]

The Father and Father Figures (Pt. 1)

pairings: rafe cameron x mom!reader, (platonic!topper x reader and platonic!kelce x reader in the next parts)

warnings: mentions of abuse, angst, fluff, swearing, semi short, not proofread or edited at all

Summary: after your abusive babydaddy kicked you out, you had no choice but to return to your old friends. But later the past comes back to haunt you.

A/n: This is my first fic im posting on here, so feedback/requests are greatly appreciated. Pt 2 in a few days <3

part 2

After your soon to be babydaddy found out you were pregnant, he took everything from you. Every expensive item he's ever bought you now belonged to him. You reached out to your parents for help, but they were more concerned over the fact you got pregnant out of wedlock. They claimed "You are an embarrassment to the y/l/n legacy." That brings you here, a month later, on the balcony of Tanny Hill with all of your belongings in a single backpack. Not suprisingly, Rafe Cameron was completely passed out on the couch with the remnants of a party.

You begin picking up cups full of who knows what, trying to let Rafe sleep by not making much noise. but your attempt to let him sleep quickly failed as your clumsy self tripped over air and landed right on top of the Cameron boy.

"what the hell" he mumbles sleepily as he rubs his eyes with his left arm. he looks down to the added weight on top of him "y/n?"

"Hi" you try to pull off your tumble by tightly embracing him.

"Bear, what are you doing here?" he smiles and you do as well but at the childhood nickname. His big arms wrap around you gently. You look up and he sees your tear stained face, his smile going away quicker than it came. "oh please don't cry, if it's your dick head of a boyfriend again I'll kill that guy, i swear."

"no, we broke up like a month ago" you sigh.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He asks, slightly upset over the fact you never mentioned it to him despite communicating the past few weeks.

"rafe im pregnant" you practically whisper. Rafe stares at you for a moment, eyes wide in shock as tears flow down your face despite his plea not to. "I don't know what to do, he kicked me out and my parents pretty much disinherited me and i-"

"Y/n" he says as he sits up, making you sit up as well "We'll figure this out together, okay? I won't let you go at this alone" His words only made you sob even harder but only because, well, rafe is notorious for being the biggest asshole on the island. But he never was to you. he always was there for you, despite all the shit he goes through himself.

You back away from his embrace and had to come clean with him "Rafe, I appreciate your offer, but I really don't think having you around a baby is the best idea" you question. "You're still on drugs and drinking and i really don't think you'd be the best influence on a child or me."

He takes a deep breath to keep his temper under control "Fuck, y/n I just want to help. I'll change for you. I'd do fucking anything for you."

"that is so toxic listen to yourself." you chuckle "You don't need to change who you are because of me."

"I know i don't need to but i just really want to, please give me a chance"

"Rafe-"

"y/n" he begs with those striking blue eyes that you just cant bring yourself to say no to

"fine you have 7 months" you caved.

He smiles as he tells you "I'll make it the best seven months of your life" He ruffles your hair and you scrunch your nose. Rafe leans back to look at you, making sure you're okay, your tears still falling but a smile plastered on your face. "you're too adorable to ever have to go through all that shit he put you through"

"I still have no place to stay" you mumble almost to yourself.

"Stay with me. I'm sure Ward wouldn't mind having you back here; he still talks about you." That didn't surprise you either because Ward trusted you with Rafe, which is a pretty huge deal.

"Oh yeah? what does he say about me?" Rafe's face turns slightly pink as he diverts eye contact with you. oh my god is he blushing?

"Nothing he just says you're a good influence on me, shit like that." You knew he was lying but you decided to not say anything, so you just nodded. He stands up and reaches his hand out to help you up.

"I'm still fully capable of helping myself up, but thanks" you grin as you take his hand.

"Anything for you, bear" He smiles and leads you up the stairs to his room. "You can stay in my room, the beds all yours I'll either sleep on the couch or on the floor"

"You don't have to do that, Rafe" You say in an attempt to be humble, but you knew Rafe wasn't giving you a choice.

"I know i don't y/n, I just really really want to help out, okay?" you hesitantly nod "In fact, we're going shopping tomorrow" he says picking you up and gently throwing you on the bed.

"Rafe" you giggle staring into his eyes. You just stare at each other for what felt like eternity, but rafe eventually ruins the moment and heads towards the door.

"I'm going downstairs to clean up. you should probably sleep y/n, no offense you look exhausted."

"No, Rafe, stay" you scooch over making a space for him. He doesn't hesitate and slides next to you so you're facing each other. You come closer towards him to bury your head in his chest, and doze off. And as soon as you're asleep, Rafe kisses the top of your head and one of his large hands finds your back, pulling you impossibly closer.

a/n: the ending kinda sucks but oh well. lmk if u wanna be tagged in pt 2

[glorytodroidkind]

Painting the Town

Oh this takes me back. This bad boy was the first oneshot I'd ever written for the series, and it was a request from Wattpad!

I have mixed feelings on this lol, it's cringy at times and it's just...I was just starting to understand them and. Yeah.

even tho it makes me cringe, it is special to me.

Pairing:

Adam x Human!Reader x Eve

(platonic with a sprinkling of pining)

"I have never seen so much white in one place," you groaned as you attempted to sketch a mural that would add more color to the copied city. Scattered around you were the rejected ideas. Everything from "you're my butter half" to the Jaws movie poster had been considered, but each of them had their problems.

   "Hey Y/N!" Eve called, practically leaping into your room. "Whatcha doing?"

You giggled at his antics and held up your current sketch-a Halloween mural, complete with floating candlesticks, jack o lanterns, and other spooky Halloween must-haves. "I've been doing a little bit of sketching, nothing much," you finally replied.

   "Wait, didn't humans eat pumpkins?" He asked. "That's what my brother told me at least, so why are those pumpkins not being eaten?"

   Inside, you cried a little because it had been forever since you had a good pumpkin spice latte or whatever. "Well, we do eat pumpkins, but we eat the insides. Has Adam not read about vegetable carving?"

"There is a seemingly endless pile of books I have yet to read. Surely you can't expect me to have read them all so quickly?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin at Adam's response. "Um, how long exactly have you been here?"

Adam chuckled lightly at your response. "Long enough time see your artwork, Y/N. Does the artwork have any purpose?"

"You mean like...does it help me live my life? No, I could live without it," you began. "But there's only so much white I can handle, and having even a splash of color, I don't know how to describe it exactly, but it makes me feel...happier? I have no idea."

   Adam was silent for a moment. "If it will help you with your morale, I suppose it would be...fun...to see this city pop with color."

  "Yeah!" Eve cheered. "We'll help you! Where do we start?"

This was how the three of you found yourselves painting a large mural in your room. The ceiling was painted to resemble the night sky, complete with an aurora borealis. Each of the walls was decorated to look like a holiday. The wall your bed was against was Christmas themed, with cute little penguins in Santa hats, a Christmas tree, and of course, reindeer. The wall opposite that was thanksgiving filled, which meant a lot of turkeys. The wall to the right of your bed was Halloween themed, and the one across from Halloween was Valentine's Day themed.

  "Thank you guys for your help today," you said when the task was finally completed. You then noticed Adam, who had red and green (and possibly white) paint stains on his usually clean white shirt. "Wait-Adam painted with us? And I didn't even have to convince him! This has got to be a dream."

Adam chuckled lightly at this. "No, I decided that it couldn't hurt to do what you humans used to call hands-on research this time."

  "Hey Y/N?" Eve questioned, red and pink paint splattered basically all over him. "What's the significance of all these hearts?"

  "Well, um, we set aside one day in the year, February 14, to really show your love and appreciation for someone else, whether it's romantically or not," you explained. "I've always thought it was kind of silly since you should always show appreciation for those you care about regardless of the day of the year."

Eve nodded, but you figured he'd ask you to explain it again sooner or later. Adam on the other hand was probably mentally noting the information immediately so he could read about it.

"How close are we to this Valentine's Day?" Adam asked at last.

"Depends. I haven't seen a calendar in who knows how long so I have no idea what day it is. I feel like it's closer to Halloween though."

"Is Halloween also a day to show your appreciation?" Eve questioned. You laughed a little at that.

"No, Halloween is about embracing the scary. You go through haunted houses, dress up in costumes, and demand candy in the dead of night," you explained.

Eve grinned. "That sounds awesome!" He exclaimed. "I want to celebrate Halloween now!"

"I am going to do some more research on the subject of Halloween," Adam stated as he calmly strode out of the room.

"Hey! You said you play a game with me later!" Eve exclaimed, chasing after him.

You chuckled as you watched them go. 'Be still my heart,' you thought, as you once again began daydreaming about what might happen if you dared to tell them exactly what you felt about them.

"Maybe next time..." you said quietly. "Next time I'll tell them."

[pixies-and-poets]

I understand your choice of leaving. Mental health is important and if you feel these places are harmful for it it's for the best to leave/take a long break.

I will not pretend to understand what you went through as I did not firsthandedly experience a lot of hate/backlash on the Internet, but I know how bad of a place it can be especially in fandoms (and, boy, do I know a lot of very toxic ones I was almost sucked in a long time ago). Don't worry, even if not participating and just by being or having been there, you are a part of things. Your part in the M+R fandom will always be important as I assume it has been in every other fandom you're in.

We fully support you, your works and presence here.

[You can answer privately if you want to]

Thank you for reaching out. To be honest, it's not even that I've ever dealt with a particularly large amount of negative stuff directed at me personally from being on social media or being in fandoms (although there has been some, of course). It's more that ambient negativity and constant discourse get to me. Inevitably I feel like I can't really be myself or express my opinions because someone will fight me on it. That's just one problem out of many, though.

I really struggle with believing I matter to the world at large, outside of a few specific people. And I don't feel like I fit in, most places I go. (There is a reason I immediately took to drawing and writing about Woodrow, lol.) Your words mean a lot to me. The nice thing about Tumblr is that posts and art/fanfics etc seem like they can live forever and be found and enjoyed again and again, unlike a lot of social media where once something gets pushed off the timeline, its time has pretty much passed for good.

I'm unsure if I will ever finish or write the other things I had in my mind. My brain needs to come back around to being in the right mood again.

Thanks again. I will miss talking to a lot of you, and I appreciated being tagged in things or sent asks because it did counteract that self-doubt I feel. So again, if anyone wants to keep in touch, I'd love to do so. Just reach out in DMs and we can figure out the best place. I really wish I didn't feel like I had to leave entirely, but I've given it a lot of thought and it really does seem like a leap I would have to make sooner or later.

[writingseaslugs]

i hope asking on anon is ok, i've had this account for literal years and never actually bothered dolling it up, so i'm super embarrassed by it BUT!!

hi, can i get uhhhh a twisted wonderland match up?

my love language giving is: gifts (and food, if i love you i will want to feed you/make sure you have food pls just let me spoil you) acts of service (kind of ties in with giving food i guess lol) quality time (even if we don't do anything and just be by ourselves together, i want to be near you)

my love language receiving is: quality time (see above, let me be near you) words of affirmation physical touch (just like a simple hand holding every now and then, pls let me know you're there)

i'm honestly a very withdrawn person, so someone who would shout their love to the heavens is, while sweet, would embarrass me to no end. i appreciate the thought behind it but, pls for the love of all that is good, i will not handle such a scene being caused (mainly something that would draw in a huge crowd, i'd sooner wish the ground would swallow me into the pits of hell than deal with ppl everyone gawking while someone sings "Can't Take My Eyes Off of You" over the PA system)

like i said, i'm a bit more withdrawn, but i do enjoy spending time with ppl i really jell with and can be more open if i'm in the right frame of mind. my hobbies include telling myself i'm going to do something and then finding out that 5 hours has passed and i've spent all that time just watching things on Youtube or scrolling through TikTok because i've lost control of my life. i am a mess of a person, i'll admit it. now, look, Mal is great. We love Mal. but... no Malleus, pls. i don't know what it is but i just... cannot stand seeing Mal in a romantic light. also i'm totally down if you wan to match me up with Deadbeat Crow Daddy or any of the other staff members.

i think that's all? oh, matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match :')

The world's worst matchmaker is here to choose your betrothed...aka who I think fits you the most in the series. So imma be matching you with the glorious...

Che'nya is the kind of guy who thinks it would be more fun to keep your relationship a secret and have them figure it out later on, so screaming his love for you wouldn't be something he's doing unless it's just the two of you in your dorm. He is smitten with you though, there's no doubt about that. Giving him food, making sure he's taken care of and wanting to spend time with him?! Oh, he is head over heels in love with that and will want to spend any time he has just curled up with you.

However, he does indulge in your hobbies, albeit unintentionally. You tell him you're planning on doing something and he comes over and sees you scrolling on your phone? He's picking you up and sitting you on his lap so he can look over your shoulder. Next thing you both know, five hours has passed and you both forgot what you had planned for the day, but it's too late now so might as well just do something else together.

[livredebelle]

Twenty-one.

MIND-RACING, HEART THUMPING, ADRENALINE RUSHING...

I blinked three times rapidly in an effort to keep the tears from falling.

I hate this, I hate this, I HATE YOU!

"Not now, Mother," I managed to ground out, "I'm not feeling well." I rushed over to the elevator and pressed the button over and over, as if that would make it come sooner.

"What's the rush, love? If you're not feeling well, come inside and lie down for a bit, and I'll get Mrs. Young to make you some tea or congee."

"I'm busy."

"Well, make sure to join us for dinner this week. You know your presence is required as part of our bargain."

I pressed my lips tightly together in an effort not to scream at her. She was so insufferable--clearly she could see I was suffering, yet she chose to go ahead with what she wanted to say anyway, and throw a little bit of shade in it.

Truly the Mother of the Year.

"Great," was my response. "I'll try."

"You really shouldn't be so nonchalant, you know? What will you do if I decide to give Pete a ring, and ask him if he wants to come meet his daughter for once?"

I whirled around at that, seething.

"You're really going to do this now? Fine, why don't you say it louder--let your precious little daughter know about how you're selling her out to the devil. How can you be such a bitch?"

"What did you say--"

"Irina!"

Rosalie's chirpy voice came from the entrance. I smacked my lips and grinned at my mother.

"Well? Do you want to continue this conversation now, or what?"

Mother's face turned turnip red. Good--she deserved to feel like shit for what she was trying to do. This woman was shameless, but she had a buttload of pride; because I was the same, I knew exactly how to make her writhe. Of course, I also knew I'd regret it later, but God it felt so good--especially when I was already feeling like shit.

Rose's face fell when she came to encounter the confrontation in the hallway, her eyes darting back and forth between us, sensing the ominous mood.

"Um..."

As she fidgeted, Mother snapped out of her silent fury.

"Hurry up and get inside. If you're done with practice, you should head home immediately--where have you been until now?!"

As usual, taking her anger out on the wrong person. Still, Rose obeyed and, after giving me one parting glance, she hurriedly ran after Mother into their house.

I grimaced. I didn't want to get involved, and I definitely didn't have the capacity to interfere--but I still had to try. For my sister's sake. If anything, I was acting out of guilt, which in my opinion justified nothing.

I sucked in a deep breath before willingly stepping through the door; it felt like I was crossing the barrier into hell. I looked around the house, taking a long good look at the way Mother had arranged the furniture. She had always fussed about how decorating your home was critical, because it was an opportunity for people to appreciate your taste in art, culture, etc. Blech. What nonsense. I saw that to this day, she was abiding by that philosophy; there were numerous paintings on the walls that I could only recognize as being famous for something. I wished I could ask Maria about it.

"She was with me," I grunted, catching up to where Mother and Rose stood in the living room. "That's why I just got in too." It was a half-lie--I didn't know where Rose had been in between the time she had met me and now, but I figured it wouldn't appease Mother in the slightest, unless it was more dance practice.

"You stay out of this."

"But why? I'm the one you were originally angry at. You wanted to know where Rose had been, and I'm telling you. Now will you let the poor girl go so she can change into comfortable clothes and get started on homework?"

Mother crossed her arms spitefully. "Who's the mother--you or me?"

I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes--a miracle. "Do you expect me to answer seriously?"

She glowered. "Aren't you supposed to be sick? Why are you entering someone else's home and causing a ruckus?"

"I'm just trying to preserve the peace."

"Somehow I doubt that. You've always had a talent for stirring up trouble since you were young. What are you playing at?"

"Melanie."

A low, gruff voice interrupted us--all in good timing, too, because my stomach could no longer take the intense anxiety I was trying to bottle up. The container was full. I darted to the nearest kitchen sink and vomited everything I had eaten that day out of my system.

"It appears Irina is feeling unwell indeed," Richard said, his lanky self appearing from the shadows. His sharp features and indifferent expression scared the bejeezus out of me still. I wiped and rinsed my mouth. "We should allow her to get some rest in the guest room while Ms. Goodham prepares dinner."

"I'm not hungry, thanks."

Richard's eyes were steel cold. "It wasn't an invitation."

I openly rolled my eyes. "You have no authority over me."

At that precise moment, something crashed near my right ear. I blinked rapidly, only to realize that my stepfather had thrown a nearby glass cup towards me, which had shattered behind me on the kitchen wall, missing my ear by a few mere centimeters. It took me more than a moment to regain my composure.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, you old fuck?"

"Irina!" Mother hissed, at the same time Rose made a small whimpering sound.

"What? Oh, of course you're going to take the side of your new sugar daddy. God, you people make me sick."

"R-Rina, your ear..."

I touched the back of my right ear and winced; shards of the shattered glass cup had scratched it or something. I laughed at the awkwardness of the situation--how else was I supposed to react? My family, old and new, was always going to be crazy. This was why I had pried myself free years ago; I felt my sanity slipping away each and every second I was forced to weather their presence. I couldn't even look at Rosalie--a part of me secretly harbored resentment for the fact that she chose, time and time again, to be an "innocent" bystander, watching me suffer yet doing absolutely nothing about it.

I shrugged and squared my shoulders. "Richard, you may be my stepfather legally, but you have no actual hold over me. Although I haven't yet been able to break out of this vicious cycle of having to deal with shit people like you who call yourselves human beings, never doubt that I wouldn't hesitate to defend myself. I'll kill you with my hands if I have to."

And I meant it. At that very moment, I was seeing red in my vision--no rhyme or reason would break me out of my spell. A court of law would side with me on this and call it self-defense, right? Without thinking, I grabbed a kitchen knife from the counter and held it out towards him.

"Well? Shall we dance?"

Richard was breathing heavily, as if he had realized the absurdity of his action and needed a minute to compose himself. Well, I wasn't going to wait for that.

But I also didn't want to murder someone who wasn't worth my time for shit. We had barely begun to get acquainted with each other since the wedding, but already it was a mess, which was a gross understatement.

Sighing, I threw the knife onto the floor, acting bored.

"You're insane! You're an insane witch!" Mother screamed, rushing to Richard's side. Her look of concern for the man who had thrown a glass cup towards me made me actually gag.

"I'm insane? Hey Richard, guess where I learned this antic of threatening people with knives? That's right--from your dearly new wife. She probably never told you about the numerous times she threatened her own daughters with a knife, huh?"

"Shut the fuck up! Shut the fuck up!" she squawked, her eyes brimming with panic.

I grinned at that. Good, I was getting on her nerves. Richard said nothing but stare at the knife, at the shattered cup. As if he was assessing the situation like it was someone else's fucking problem.

"It never ceases to amaze me how age is just a number... since obviously I am the most mature one here, I'll excuse myself first, because I don't feel like bleeding anymore today."

With that, I left the house which was worse than hell, not having said another word.

The elevator took forever to get to the ground floor, and the ride up to the penthouse was excruciatingly slow. It had been so long since the last time I had blown up like that--Mother knew just how to get on my nerves to the point I could no longer hold back. But Richard was a new blow. Of course, I had never expected him to be a decent person, but still... Tears brimmed in my eyes, and my vision turned white as I seethed. Why did Mother always have to choose to entangle herself with people who hurt us? Hurt me?

A big motivator for my having agreed to this situation in the first place was for that very reason--I was afraid of Pete, of what he would do to Rose what he had done to me those years ago...

Of all her suitors, Pete was undoubtedly one of the worst. He was a raving lunatic whenever he got drunk, which was often, and he loved to lash out at me for whatever went wrong in his life. Got a crap hand at a lottery ticket? SLAP. Boss yell at him for doing work wrong? PUNCH. Mother fooling around with other guys at her work during those late nights at the bar? WHACK.

I could quite literally never do anything right per his standards, and the only reason he didn't extend his abuse to Rose at the time was because she was his blood, and the one principle he abided by was that "blood is thicker than water." I hate that phrase; it means horseshit. Why is our culture so dedicated to the idea that family equals protection, warmth, love and happiness? That's not universally true. People are just displacing their wants and desires on others because they refuse to live in a world where such cruelty happens on a daily basis.

Instinctively, my palm cupped my jaw, remembering the worst of Pete's tantrums--when he had kicked me in the face and my jaw had been fractured for two weeks. It had been so painful to endure, especially because Mother didn't want to let me to go to the doctor out of shame of what had happened. No, she was perfectly content to let me suffer in pain, so long as no one would blame her of being a terrible parent for failing to prevent this from happening in the first place.

My anger started to boil towards Rosalie now--where was she when that had occurred? She had been out with her friends. When she had returned and seen my face, her face had fallen and she had cried for me, but again what did she really do?

Absolutely nothing.

Why had I protected her this time? Why worry about what Pete, her father, could do--when he had never abused her to begin with? No, it was me who was abused and tortured; yet she never apologized, never told anyone, never went looking for help but utterly ignored me when I needed her for once...

It was hard to differentiate between the good memories with my sister and these memories that continued to haunt me, that I had completely forgotten until I was thrust back into this life. I hated living with them. I hated my family. And then I would feel guilty for thinking that way, for feeling resentment towards Rose when she was just a child at that time...

What about me? I was a child back then, too!

Stop victimizing yourself.

It's true. I've been through so much. Why do I only continue to suffer like this?

There's no good answer for that. If you want to blame anyone, blame God.

There is no God.

Then blame yourself.

Why? Why?

Rather than continue with that conversation in my head, I struggled to drag my ass into the penthouse unit at last--the destination was my bed. If I couldn't muster strength to get that far, then the couch. Hell, the floor would even do, if I could get some peace and quiet so I could think about nothing, nothing at all.

"Rina? Are you home?"

Great. In my current state, I definitely didn't have the capacity to deal with Heath right now.

Heath entered the living room, then his eyes widened when he saw me trying to take my shoes off at the doorway in my current state.

"What's happened to you? You look like shit."

I said nothing. My vision was going blurry, and the tension in my limbs was fading. I couldn't quite gather my surroundings, and eventually I crumpled to the floor--or fell? I couldn't tell. One second I was standing, albeit barely, then the next I wasn't anymore. Facing the black wooden floor, I felt my face fall down, down, until I was swallowed whole by the black hole that had opened up on the ground.

The last thing I heard was Heath shouting my name.

"Rina!"

[gaybluesargent]

i havent read the raven cycle books in a while and ive forgotten.. what is so bad about gansey's parents?

i’m sorry this took so long, anon!! i have… so very many thoughts about this. so. cracks my knuckles. Here We Go. an incomplete analysis of why gansey’s parents suck, under a readmore because it turned into a book report:  

they allowed gansey to travel the world entirely by himself at thirteen years old.

“Of all the places Gansey had attended boarding school — and he’d attended many in his four years of underage wandering…” - trb, ch12

gansey is seventeen, so four years of wandering puts him at thirteen. thirteen!! thirteen is not old enough to travel the world by yourself in even the best circumstances. and gansey was not in the best circumstances. which leads me to my next point:

they allowed gansey to travel the world entirely by himself while he was extremely unwell. 

by the time he met malory, he’d already been traveling for years, and this was the shape he was in:

“Got screaming nightmares over it — he had to get his own place, since I couldn’t sleep with it, as you might well imagine. Sometimes these fits would happen during the day, too. We’d just be toddling through some riding path in Leicestershire and next thing I knew he’d be on the ground clawing his face like a mental patient.” - bllb, ch30

his parents either didn’t notice this behavior or ignored it, because there is no way a boy this debilitated by his trauma and anxiety should be set free to roam the world with no support. and there was no support, because:

there were months (or more) where they had no idea where he was. 

“Just gone,” Malory said. “After that, his family called me sometimes, trying to find out where he’d gone.”

“His family?” She felt like she was being told a story about a different person.

“Yes, I told them what I could, of course. But I didn’t really know. It was Mexico before he came to me, then Iceland after, I think, before the States. I doubt I know the half of it still. He picked himself up and moved so easily, so quickly. He had done it so many times before England, Jane, and it was old hat to him.” - bllb, ch30

that means they kept in touch so little and gave him so much financial freedom that they couldn’t find out where in the whole world he had gone. yeah, like, gansey made the decision to go off the radar, but the fact that he, as a child, was able to go missing on this scale is extremely negligent of his parents. 

i think all of that is enough to find the ganseys shitty, but wait, there’s more! because there’s a whole emotional side to this that plays a big role in Who Gansey Is.

the ganseys are politicians. 

not just in their careers, but as people. they are concerned with Appearance more than anything else. 

there’s a lot in gansey’s introspection that gets into this — like, the entire concept of his President Cell Phone persona and the reoccurring theme of disconnect between how gansey feels and how he’s perceived — but i think this bit from trk is pretty telling: 

He remembered thinking that it would only ruin the party by reappearing covered with hornets. - trk ch53

you don’t think this way as a terrified child unless you’ve had guilt taught into you. unless your family has made it clear that your pain is less important than their convenience. 

and that crops up a lot with gansey. this idea of his feelings being inconvenient to those around him, and of his feelings being less important than everyone else’s. sure, it’s tied up in his privilege, but it’s also a classic symptom of the kind of repression and compartmentalization that comes from growing up in a family that doesn’t value your emotional wellbeing. 

and i think there’s a good example of that, after gansey misses the fundraiser:

I know you have your own life, his mother said to his voicemail. I was just hoping to be part of it for a few hours. 

[Helen’s] only text had come at the end of the night: I suppose the king will always win, won’t he? - trk, ch58

this is.. emotionally manipulative. maybe not intentionally, but it is. and gansey has lived his whole life like this — having things Expected of him and then being guilted when he can’t live up to it. and the running implication under it all is that he is Wrong for prioritizing the thing that matters most to him, which is doubly damaging since that thing is the obsessive pursuit of a resolution to his unbelievable and unacknowledged childhood trauma. trauma for which he has never gotten any help. that is all unforgivably isolating. 

and i think part of what makes this all so insidious is that it’s easy to miss. because it’s never rude, never mean, never outright. the ganseys don’t seem like an emotionally dysfunctional family. they don’t fight, they don’t yell, they don’t cry. they love each other, or they think they do. but that’s because of things like this:

And Dick Gansey II had let his son know that if he couldn’t hack it in a private school, Gansey was cut out of the will. 

He’d said it nicely, though, over a plate of fettuccine. - trb, ch12

and

Gansey despised raising his voice (in his head, his mother said, People shout when they don’t have the vocabulary to whisper)… - trb, ch38

they’re nice. they’re proper. but they’re definitely not good. they want gansey to be Perfect, which means ignoring all the parts of him that they find flawed and inconvenient. which means depriving him of emotional support and limiting their relationship with him to what is Expected and what is Useful. which means that, when he can’t meet those Expectations and Uses, he is a failure. 

and i think that leaves marks all over his character. you can see it in his desperation to mean something, to be worthy of being saved. in how he constantly represents himself in ways that conflict with his Richard Campbell Gansey The Thirdness (like the Pig, Monmouth, and his journal, all things that are broken and chaotic and messy). in his deep desire to be Known and Understood by the people around him. 

i don’t think gansey really understands the way his family has shaped these parts of his personality, so the narrative doesn’t really call explicit attention to it. but there are places where it’s clear how far away he feels from the very idea of his family: 

He was full of the restless, dissatisfied energy that always seemed to move into his heart after he visited home these days. It had something to do with the knowledge that his parents’ house wasn’t truly home anymore — if it had ever been — and something to do with the realization that they hadn’t changed; he had. - trb, ch33

they never made a spot for him in their home, or at least, not a spot where he was ever actually able to fit. so gansey left and found one for himself, in his friends and in henrietta and in glendower. 

there is So Much More — i could comb through the books and write a 500 page dissertation on this topic, lol — but i’m gonna leave it here. tldr, gansey’s parents are neglectful and emotionally isolating, and that has had a serious negative impact on how gansey conceptualizes himself.

[if you want More on the subject, i know kate @czarrish has lots of good posts like this one! & big thank you to @arielmagicesi​, @pnrrish, & @wishingstardust​ for helping me find various things for this Essay! i rly appreciate it!]

[sosadz]

Last Mimosa

Adult!Reborn x F!reader

warning(s) - blood, death, angst, hanahaki au

this is my first post on this app and I still couldn’t figure out how tumblr works lol I hope you guys enjoy

1,637 words

-

You still remember the feeling when you first realized you love this man. It has been the same since day one. The way he acted like he didn't care, but secretly looked out for you in his own way. The way he sat in the chair of his apartment, admiring the view, slowly sipping his espresso. The way he walked with that charming look of his, the look that make legs go weak. His black eyes that look so cold yet so ravishing. You love all of that. All of him.

You had never accepted the fact that you love this man until a strange flower petal immersed out of your mouth. A mimosa flower.

The deepest secret from the bottom of your heart had revealed itself. One that you had never wanted to acknowledge yourself.

'A Mimosa... What a coincidence.' You sarcastically joke. The Mimosa's meaning is the conjuration of secret love. No one knows that I love you, not even myself until now.

'Is this a blessing or a curse - the Hanahaki disease?'

_

You and Reborn have enjoyed each other's company and you both like each other, but only in a platonic way. However, this platonic relationship is only one-sided, as you love him romantically. You had made a promise to yourself to never tell him about your feelings, since you didn't want to ruin this precious friendship.

Following your usual routine, you stopped by his office to greet him as always. Whenever you were with him the Hanahaki disease didn't act up much, so you just assumed everything was going to be okay.

You entered the building and walked into his office. There was nothing but a comfortable silence, accompanied by the sound of a coffee machine running and the smell of coffee. Of course it was espresso - just how he liked it. You opened the door to greet him.

"Reborn I-" you felt something coming from your throat. Reborn's gaze turned to you immediately after he heard your voice.

'Maybe I should stop assuming things'

Before he could answer or ask you anything, you quickly ran away from him while trying your best not to let any of the petals fall from your mouth. You felt something wet dripping down your cheeks. Your heart ached, but you had to run away as far as you could. He can't know about your secret, your disease.

When you had reached the rooftop of the building, you let all the petals you had kept inside your mouth flow out. Your heart ached, your mouth started to get dry, your throat was sore and all you could hear was nothing but a constant ringing. It was like your whole body reset itself. Your vision was blurry and you couldn't concentrate on anything but the pain you were feeling.

After thirty minutes, you began to feel better. You wiped away the remaining blood and petals from your mouth and off your clothes.

"Y/n" You heard someone speaking behind you. You knew damn well whose voice that belonged to.

"Oh, I'll be back in a minute don't worry." You tried your best to make your voice sound like you were okay, convincing him that there was nothing wrong. You quickly hid all the fallen petals in your shirt but it was too late. He was the world's best hitman, how could you lie to him without him knowing? You wish he would ignore the fact that you lied to him and just wait for you in his office.

And he did.

He nodded slowly and walked away from you, giving you the privacy you had wished for.

'Why do I feel like this?' You asked yourself. Weren't you supposed to be relieved that he did as you wished for? Why do your eyes feel so warm and watery? Why were you feeling so disappointed? It was like a million knives were stabbed into your heart, but instead it was the Mimosa flower.

_

Reborn actually knew. He knew everything. He knew you were suffering from the Hanahaki disease, and he knew you were throwing up on the rooftop. He knew that you lied to him. He tried his best to find out who was responsible for causing you to get this disease. He was the world's best hitman, but why can't he find the person you love and help you?

How could he ever find out,

When that person was him all along?

_

A few days after the incident you decided to visit Reborn again at his office. You stepped inside without knocking. It was just how it was. He always knew it was you who came inside, so he didn't even have to look.

"I just stopped by to say hi and maybe get some free coffee" You jokingly said to him followed by a chuckle. You were desperate to hide all of the sadness blooming inside your chest.

He didn't say anything but handed you a cup of coffee from his table that he had already prepared for you. You took it and gave him a playful smile.

'Maybe I'd stopped loving you if you stopped being so nice to me, Reborn.' You thought to yourself.

"I won't be here for a week, just to let you know." He said while looking at the sky next to him. You knew how much he admired those views. You walked next to him and looked the same way.

"Want me to take care of your office for you?" You asked sarcastically. You knew he never wanted you to take care of his office because he knows you are a mess, and would give him a headache when he came back from his mission.

"As if." He rolled his eyes and adjusted his hat.

"Alright, I'm going to go now. See ya!" You said, putting your now empty cup on his table and walked out from his office. After the door had closed, your whole body started shaking. You were afraid he was going to figure out what was going on with you.

You took time gathering yourself to stand properly again, and walked out from the building.

'I don't have much time left, and I don't think I will last until the time when he comes back. I should find a way to let him know I died happily.' You thought as you let out a deep sigh.

_

A week later,

Reborn came back just to find you laying in your bed, dressed in the most beautiful way possible. In fact, you were always beautiful. There were Mimosas all over your bed, covering your mouth all the way to your body. Your eyes were closed shut. He was too late. Reborn fell onto his knees, lifted one of your hands to his face and kissed it softly. He felt the warmth in his eyes, and his vision was getting more and more blurry.

Looking over to his right, he saw a letter on your drawer next to your bed. His name was written on it. Although his hands were still shaking uncontrollably, he made his way to your letter and opened it.

Dear Reborn,

Reborn, you know... I really appreciate our friendship. You have made me smile, laugh or even be mad. But in a good way, don't worry. I know you are the world's best hitman but please be careful and take care of yourself. Try drinking a lot of water, not just coffee.

Please know that I died while I was being happy. You have probably already figured out by now what the cause of my death was, and if you figure out who's the reason I got this disease, don't blame him. Be kind to him. All I ever want is for him to be happy because that makes me happy too.

You are a good friend of mine, Reborn.

You always will be. No one could ever replace you. But if someone ever replaces me, that's okay.

I won't be mad at you.

I hope you will remember me. And whenever you ever think of me, I hope it will be the time where I smile or laugh. I don't look nice when I'm crying or sleeping so... Don't.

I will always be with you -

in the skies you had always admired,

in the smell of your espresso.

If you aren't happy I will know.

So be happy. For me.

I love you, Reborn.

Y/n, L/n

He cried, for the first time. The world's best hitman cried, uncontrollably. The grief of losing someone precious to him was too much to handle.

He loved her,

And he couldn't stand seeing her get hurt.

If only he had realized it sooner, you wouldn't be here. Laying in your bed without your soul. You could be happy together with him by your side. He could have helped you, but he didn't. Instead, he spent his entire week going on a stupid mission. The purpose of the mission was actually to find a cure for the Hanahaki disease that you were suffering from. He wanted to save you, and he was so close to doing so. He was so blinded by the end goal that he didn't take into account your current situation. You slipped right through his fingers.

Reborn felt something sharp piercing his heart.

Something was about to come out from his throat.

He coughed.

A white petal came out of his mouth.

It was a Lily petal.

He picked it up and looked into it for a minute and thought: 'A Lily. I wonder if this disease chose a specific flower for me. Is this what you've been feeling this entire time, Y/n?'

He kissed your lips for the last time. But sadly, you never got the chance to kiss him back.

Not anymore.

[kyosohmastan]

Can you by chance write a fic on where Tohru experiences jealousy when someone is flirting Kyo? I think it'd be interesting for tohru to feel that emotion 1st hand and not knowing how to deal with it and feeling guilty about it. I've seen so many fic where Kyo gets jealous, but very few where it's Tohru. You don't have to if you don't want to, I just thought I'd ask

I like that idea! I came up with this so I hope you enjoy!

———————

She was hit with a heaping sense of nostalgia when they got to Shigure’s house. She hadn’t seen the place in about a year, and along with it, so many memories came to her. She’d never seen it like this though, with all of their old classmates there.

It was a reunion party for her class, and she had been looking forward to it. Yuki had organized the event with Shigure on his property, even though he couldn’t be there because of college exams. She was just happy to have a chance to see the house again, although the party was deeper into the woods. She only saw it at a distance.

Additionally, she was happy to have an excuse to see Arisa and Saki. They lived so far from each other that it was difficult to meet up. She had missed them so much.

They greeted her with hugs when they saw her while Kyo stood beside her awkwardly, only nodding his head toward them as a form of greeting.

“It’s been too long. You gotta fill us in on everything!” Arisa said, holding both of Tohru’s hands in her own. Her thumb ran over the ring on Tohru’s finger. It was small but beautiful just like her. “I still can’t believe it.”

“Me neither, honestly,” Tohru said with a bashful smile. She wrapped her arms around Kyo’s lean bicep and leaned against him. The tension left him as soon as she did so. “I guess the next time I see you guys will be for the wedding.”

“No way! We’ll visit you sooner to help pick out the dress. There’s no way we’re missing that,” Arisa said sternly.

“That’s right. Her dress must meet our approval,” Saki added.

“Ah, if you guys can help me, then please!” Tohru replied, excited for that day to come.

Arisa nodded. “But in the meantime, Carrots has to help you with the rest of the wedding planning since we won’t be there to do it. Although, it’s hard to picture him contributing to such an event with a lack of masculinity.”

Kyo clenched his jaw. “It’s not like I’m going to let her go through all that work alone. Of course I’m going to help her, stupid Yankee.”

“Excuse me,” Arisa muttered, her almost non existent brows drawn together. “I can still whoop your ass if I wanted to.”

Tohru giggled nervously. It was great to think that nothing changed between all of them, even though she wasn’t all for such violent threats.

“Hold up!” said a boy that she recognized as Hiroshi. “Did I hear wedding?”

“Yes,” Tohru answered, a blush tainting her cheeks. “We’re engaged.” Her arms left Kyo’s arm and she held his hand. He looked down at her, blushing as well, but the softest smile was on his face.

“No way!” Yusuke said, now joining their circle. “I knew you guys were close so I should have expected this but...I guess it’s just hard to imagine Kyon-Kyon getting married.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Kyo growled, releasing her hand and clenching it in a fist.

“Just teasing...” Yusuke laughed. “You still get worked up so easily.”

“I do not!” Kyo snapped. But to Tohru, he was being contradictory. She didn’t mind. She found him adorable even when he would get irritated. Not that she wanted him to...

“Whatever,” Kyo mumbled. “I’m getting a drink. You want one?” He asked Tohru.

She nodded, giving his clenched fist a squeeze. “Iced tea, please.”

He smiled briefly, kissing the top of her head before he left to the food and drink table. His kiss was tense, and she knew it was because he was timid when it came to being affectionate in front of others, but she appreciated the effort of the gesture anyway. Overtime, the PDA had gotten easier for them.

“Let’s go mingle. You should join us, Tohru,” Saki suggested.

That sounded appealing to her. She was sure Kyo would catch up to them. She followed alongside the girls, stopping when they reunited with a group of their old classmates, and she greeted all of them.

She saw Kyo out of the corner of her eye getting their drinks, but he wasn’t alone. Three girls flocked to him, and she recognized them. They’d never taken fondly to her, particularly because Kyo always liked her and ended up choosing to be with her. She recalled the scrutiny she got from them soon after they started dating. She knew it was out of jealousy, and it’s not like she didn’t expect it to happen. Kyo was handsome...more than that, he was beautiful. And though most of the girls at their school had their eyes on Yuki, she couldn’t help but notice how a few of them also acknowledged Kyo.

She wasn’t surprised that was still the case. He’d gotten prettier in the past year, bulking up quite a bit due to all the martial arts classes he’d been teaching at Kazuma’s dojo. She wouldn’t have been concerned about girls taking notice of him. She would never want to control who he sees or talks to. It wasn’t like her. However, it was the way the girls acted around him that made her feel uneasy.

One of them put her hand on his forearm, the touch soft enough to not count as evasive. For a moment, Kyo just froze, paying attention to the girl who was chatting with him, until he slowly drew his arm away from her and seemed to pretend like it never happened.

Tohru sighed to herself. At least he didn’t seem to cave to her advances. Not that she would think he would. She knew he was loyal to her, he promised he would be since the day he proposed to her. She was grateful for that.

Still, the nausea she felt seeing such beautiful girls dote on him didn’t fade. It was similar to how she felt when she thought her dad was stealing her mom away from her. Maybe not as severe, but it wasn’t a good feeling nonetheless.

She felt the need to intervene, even though she wanted to give him space and room to talk to whoever he wanted to on his own. She didn’t want to be that type of girlfriend...or fiancé.

She sucked in a breath and went to him, instantly intertwining her fingers through his. “H-hi,” she said to the girls timidly.

They examined her, or rather leered at her. She felt completely vulnerable.

“Oh, hey, Tohru. How have you been?” One of them asked. Although, it didn’t sound like they cared.

“I’ve been well. Especially since I’ve had Kyo-kun beside me. It’s been nice.” She felt the need to mention that last part. But it really just slipped out.

“Yeah it’s been...really great,” Kyo added, looking down at Tohru and finally smiled.

Moments of silence followed, and she couldn’t ignore how awkward it had gotten. The girls clearly still had crushes on him, so Tohru was the bad guy. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

“Anyway...we’re going to walk around. It was nice seeing you again, Kyo-kun,” one of them cooed, leaving with the other girls.

Tohru felt the tension leave her. But her feelings still confused her. Was that really jealousy?

“You seemed really tense there,” Kyo mentioned.

She straightened, cringing. “Was I? I didn’t mean to.”

Kyo handed her the iced tea that had been sitting on the table scattered with all kinds of appetizers. “I felt you squeezing my hand. Are you okay?”

She slowly sipped her drink. “Yes. I’m fine. I’m just nervous to see everyone. It’s been a long time.”

“If you’re nervous, then I’m terrified,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

She giggled. She loved her shy kitty. She moved her toes up and kissed him, momentarily forgetting that they weren’t alone. But once she remembered, she didn’t mind that. In fact, she hoped the girls were noticing them, and she couldn’t figure out why.

It wasn’t until later, after they got off the subway and were walking the remainder of the trip home, that she still felt unsettled. No matter how hard she tried to conceal it, Kyo would look at her with perplexity.

“Something’s up. And don’t lie to me,” he stated.

She frowned. “I don’t want to bother you with this but...I can’t get it off my mind.”

“Spill it.” He walked closer to her, his elbow bumping hers. “You can tell me.”

And she did because she felt like she could tell him anything and it wouldn’t sway what he thought of her. He’d proven that so many times. “When I saw how those girls acted around you, it made me...uncomfortable.”

His walking slowed as they reached the door to their tiny home that resembled a cottage. He didn’t open the door, but just stood there without facing her. “So that’s what this is about,” he said just above a whisper. “Really? Do you not trust me when it comes to that?”

“No! Of course not,” she said quickly. “I didn’t think you’d give into them. It’s not about you actually.” She wrung her hands together, scrambling for words. “It’s just that...those girls are so pretty. Much more beautiful than I am. They seem like the type that would fit better for you...” She hadn’t realized how much she felt that way until she said it out loud. She found herself so plain. It stemmed from the amount of comments she got from her family about her being boring and dull physically. To a big extent, she thought it was true.

Kyo finally looked to her, his brows creasing together. “What the hell are you talking about? You are insane if you think I don’t find you attractive.”

Her heartbeat picked up. That actually meant a lot, especially coming from him. “I am?”

His expression softened. “You are. You’re beautiful. And yeah, those girls are hot, but I’ll never fall in love with them the way I fell for you.” He took a piece of her hair bound together by her ribbon and tucked it behind her ear.

She smiled as he held her cheek. “You make me feel beautiful, Kyo-kun. Thank you for telling me that everyday.” She held his wrist, as if she was afraid of him pulling away. She really didn’t want that. “I’ve never been that jealous before. It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“But it just means you love me, right?” He leaned down so his face was at her level. “Not that I deserve it.”

She shook her head while grinning and met him halfway in a kiss that she hadn’t intended to get so intense, but he took it there, holding her waist and pulling her close until her body was pressed firmly against his own.

When she broke away to breathe, she found him smiling so big that it took away her breath more than the kiss had. “You have my word that I won’t leave you for anyone else. You’re my first love, and you’ll be my last.”

“I’m holding you to that, but I don’t think I have reason to worry. I trust you completely, Kyo-kun.” She opened the front door, pulling him in behind her by his hand with her mind officially set at ease.

[the-hetchia-universe]

So i found i miciti disney of phantom blot!

And i wanted to share the translated version of the interview ! ( and i like he has some kinda story behind the interview. The extras will be on a reblog post.)

"If I didn't have a heart of gold..."

Meeting within the walls of the prison with the one who likes to call himself a villain unique in style, intelligence and personality. A true emperor of crime, if it were not for the too much sensitivity that makes him hate violence and has prevented him on various occasions to get rid of the enemy Mickey, for now.

When it was decided to dedicate a volume - and a coin - to The Phantom blot, it was prudently placed towards the end of the series, in the belief that sooner or later the person concerned would be available for the ritual interview.

The reasoning did not make a wrinkle: more than six months would have been enough for him to try to pull off one of his famous shots, which would have been followed by the probable (not to say inevitable) arrest, and so it would have been easy to meet him in the cooler.

And instead, time has passed and no news of the lantitante Phantom blot has been heard.

That he had decided to take a long vacation or, even worse, to retire permanently from...business?

The only hope of not being forced to write with blank pages was placed in the major expert of the black character and his nemesis for sixty years, and that is Mickey. Who immediately reassured us. "No, Phantom Blot doesn't know what the holidays are," he said convinced.

"And as for the idea of retiring, I don't think it ever even crossed his twisted mind. He's not the type to sit on his hands, and even if he was, he'd never retire before he took me off the streets. He swore it to me... and he's not the type to break his word."

But then how did you explain him not talking about himself for so long? 

"He's on a break," sentenced Mickey. "he's preparing a big score... and I know which one too!"

At the Mousetown Research Center, very advanced studies were underway on a device to make people invisible. Very secret studies, of course, but not for Phantom Blot, as revealed by an ingenious electronic bug system discovered by chance at the Center.

There was no doubt that he was the one who planted them.

"Invisibility has always been his dream," Mickey said.

"And with that device, he'd have one that's perfectly good, not the handcrafted one that gives him his black cloak in the night."

the bug hadn't been removed, so as not to put the Phantom blot on the forewarning so that we could catch him red-handed at the appropriate time. Which, unfortunately, wouldn't be for a few months at the earliest. And to hasten the time was not even talked about it: even if it had been possible, an interview would hardly have been a sufficient reason to speed up the work.

I was already resigned to having to give up the interview when I had a dazzling idea. What if he just pretended to finish the job? A nice, exclusive benefit performance by Blot and his bugs and...

"And he'll bite for sure, because he doesn't know that we know that he knows!" exclaimed Mickey.

"Besides, if he has to act sooner than expected, he won't have the time to get his plans right, and it'll be easier to neutralize him. And there is another advantage: even if he gets away with it, he will have nothing to steal. But he won't get away with it..."

Mickey was a good man (not that it took long: all the precedents were in his favor) and so here I am, in Mousetown prison, visiting the blackest black character in the Disney world.

Who receives me in his usual cell. I'd like to describe him, but how do you tell something you can't see? The room, in fact, is in total darkness...

Interviewing an invisible subject is not the best, but taking notes in the dark is impossible...can't you turn on a light?

PB: Yes, but then you'll miss the right dark atmosphere.

Patience, I'll work on my imagination.

PB: I hope you've had enough. Anyway, I'm keeping the cloak and hood. Without them, I wouldn't be me anymore. Even the warden lets me wear them when I'm in jail. He has respect for my personality...

Me too, I assure you. You've always been my favorite negative character. The best villain. And don't get me wrong, when I say "bad"...

PB: There's no need to add anything else. I get it. On the other hand, how could you define me differently? Well, maybe instead of "bad," you could use the term "evil." I think it suits me better and is more exclusive. I'm the only one who's evil, and the comic book pages are full of villains.

And no one remotely has my class. Not to mention style, intelligence and personality.

Modesty, on the other hand, is quite common among you criminals...

PB: If you think you're funny, you're very wrong. I'm not immodest, I'm just telling it like it is. I'm not the kind of guy who's special, I'm not the kind of guy you're looking for.

That's what Floyd Gottfredson thought, too... 

PB: He's designed me. You ever wonder why I made myself look so much like Walt Disney?

As a joke, if I'm not mistaken.

PB: Pff! That's the official version. The truth is, he wanted to pay tribute to a great man by making him play a great character. And who could you find better than me? Walt and I have a lot in common.

Certainly not a criminal record.

PB: Obviously not. But we're both geniuses.

With very different results, though. His career has been a little bit better than yours. Speaking of which, can you explain the long hole between your first compo, in 1939, and your return to action, in 1955? Sixteen years is a long time: what have you been doing in all that time?

PB: If you had that imagination you boasted about earlier, you wouldn't ask me such a question. It's obvious I've been in prison. Serving my long sentence and figuring out how to get revenge on the man who put me away. You should have known better. And if you're really a fan of mine, you should know that I almost succeeded. I had a diabolical plan, a revenge so subtle that only I could have imagined it. Nothing crude, no direct violence. Mickey sabotaged himself with his own hands! I hope you publish the story of my return to the scene, so that readers will also appreciate my genius.

It's the first of this volume, a real classic. You really missed nothing because you're getting rid of your enemy. In this regard, can you explain me why, even though you had several times - and since your first encounter - the possibility to eliminate Mickey directly, you never did it?

PB: Because I'm too sensitive. I hate violence and I could never get my hands dirty. I wish I could. It would be so easy to just get the rat out of the way! But instead I'm forced to make deadly contraptions or studying very complicated subjects. Imagine that once, in order to get rid of my hated enemy, I managed to erase it from the mind of every inhabitant of Mousetown. Of course, as you can gather from my presence here, it didn't help. Do you know what that crude Pete once said to me, who I often share a cell with? That without my good heart, I'd be the emperor of crime! I hate to do this, but I have to agree with him.

Yeah, if it hadn't been Mickey in his way... He's blacked you out plenty of times!

PB: Yeah ! That's some low-rent humor. Why don't you also say that it's...stained my career? I don't mind anyway, because I'm tenacious, me. I'll never give up. I know what I'm worth, and I know the day will come when I can get rid of Mickey once and for all. That is, if luck doesn't keep on helping him, of course. That nosy little chap's always got a dose to envy even Gladstone.

You're not saying that to console yourself? The way you're putting it, it sounds like Mickey doesn't deserve any credit for putting you in jail. I'll grant you that sometimes he got away with it because your sensitivity prevented you from giving him the coup de grâce, but to say that he beats you regularly just because he's lucky, seems too much.

PB: Is that what you think? Then let us examine this latest supposed success of the brilliant detective, the genius of investigators, the terror of criminals. Tsk! I was preparing a perfect score, according to a schedule studied in detail... and what happens? That those scientists realize much earlier than expected the invention that I was so interested in, thus forcing me into a hasty action that led to my arrest. Mickey was there waiting for me, but if I'd had time to make a proper plan, I'd have done it under his nose, always snooping around. Grrr! And you're telling me he's not lucky?

Well, yeah, maybe a little. I'll grant you that it's not his fault, but the case, if the microplashes you had installed at the Research Center were discovered. But he was the one who figured out you planted them and had the idea to leave them where they were so you wouldn't get suspicious. And the fact that the invention was ready before its time is not a stroke of luck, but simply... false news.

PB: What?! You made that up. I don't believe it!

And it hurts, because I know what I'm talking about. I'm the one who gave him the idea. I went to consult him to find a way to interview you... Hey! Why did you get up? You don't want to...

PB: ...hurt you? No! I hate violence, you know that. I just want to hug you to show my appreciation! You are living proof that Mickey beats me just because he is lucky. But do you realize? I ended up in jail because of an interview!

That we can continue...

PB: Ah no! Even if I'm not angry with you, I don't talk to my worst enemy's allies. It's a matter of principle... that brings us to the end. So I'd be grateful if you'd leave. And on your way out, turn off the light!

[chasholidays]

Thanks for doing this again!! I'd love to read a Dancing with the Stars Bellarke AU if possible!!

The nice thing Clarke has found about Dancing with the Stars is that, as a general rule, the less she likes her celebrity partner, the sooner she’ll be eliminated.

It’s not a purposeful thing; she always does her best with every season, she’s way too competitive to not. But it tends to be hard, to work with people she dislikes, as the root cause of her dislike is generally that they won’t fucking listen to her. When she goes out early, it’s almost because her stupid celebrity refuses to listen to her or thinks she’s too harsh or the dance is too hard. It’s not like she usually gets to know them on any deep level; they spend a few weeks together in a surreal environment, and then she never sees them again.

Finn Collins, though. Finn Collins is new.

“You could just break one of his legs,” Bellamy suggests. They’re getting drinks and Bellamy is mocking her because while Ontari is something of a nightmare, she’s at least an expected kind of nightmare. She’s a controlling former actress who wants this to reboot her career and thinks Bellamy is there to serve her, not teach her. It sucks, but they’ve all dealt with that before. “Like, casually.”

Clarke snorts. “What’s the casual way to break someone’s legs? Ski mask and a tire iron?”

“I was thinking you just trip and fall and get him with your knee as you go down, but if you’ve got a ski mask and a tire iron–”

She elbows him. “Seriously, I’m worried that if he gets to the final he’s going to propose or something. Just to get audience votes.”

“That is how he got famous, right? Deciding he was going to marry a woman he barely knew?”

“If he tries to give me a rose I actually will break one of his legs,” she grumbles, and Bellamy laughs.

Finn’s not the first “star” to make it on the program because of his experience in reality TV, but Clarke will admit she finds him one of the least impressive. He went on The Bachelor despite, apparently, having a serious girlfriend, and he was somehow hoping that she wouldn’t find out because she hated reality TV, and that he’d be able to dump her cleanly if it went well.

Instead, it all blew up in his face, as he deserved, and by three months after his engagement at the end of the show, he was single and slightly infamous, which is, admittedly, the sweet spot for people who want to continue to appear on reality TV. He’s hosted some specials, been on some morning shows, and now seems to be known mostly as a pleasant, generic attractive white guy, like they didn’t have enough of those on TV already.

“If it makes you feel better, he’s not actually a good dancer, so he should get weeded out pretty soon,” Bellamy points out, practical as always. “He’s been scraping by on charm and luck. I’m just glad the charm stopped working on you.”

She makes a face. “It wasn’t working, I was being polite.”

“Because you didn’t know anything about him.”

“I’m still being polite.”

“I’m just saying, before I told you to google him, you actually kind of liked him.”

Clarke grins and nudges him. “So you were trying to save me?”

“Friends don’t let friends date former Bachelor contestants, Clarke.”

“Especially not ones who cheated on their real girlfriends. He would have lost me pretty soon anyway. He’s just so–”

“Finn?” Bellamy supplies.

“Pretty much. How’s Ontari doing? I feel like you aren’t complaining as much.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to cut into your time,” he teases, and she elbows him again. He ducks his head, laughing, and Clarke finds herself smiling too. He’s in a good mood today, a rarity, and it’s nice to see him so relaxed. “Honestly, she’s fine. Don’t get me wrong, she hates me, thinks she knows better than I do, and if she could just be her own teacher and partner, she’d be fucking thrilled. But the judges keep praising all the stuff I say they will, so she’s coming around. And I’d take unnecessary asshole hostility over someone trying to hit on me every time.”

“So, my life is terribleand makes you feel better about yours?”

He raises his glass. “Appreciated.”

She shakes her head, smiling. “Happy to help.”

*

As with so many things, the Finn situation gets worse before it gets better. He’s one of those people who, as he gains experience and confidence, also gains opinions, and while that can be a good thing, his opinions are bad, and he should feel bad.

“He thinks we need to put more Bachelor stuff into the routine,” she tells Bellamy, a week later.

“I told you he wanted to give you a rose. I tried to warn you.”

“He used the word synergy.”

That makes him wince. “Jesus, really?”

“Synergy, I swear to god. He thinks the cross-promotional synergy will really help his brand.”

“If that’s an actual quote, I might break his leg.”

“It is.” She puts her head on his shoulder with a sigh. “I never thought basic competence would be this annoying.”

“Yeah, it’s a real burden.” He pauses, thinking something over. “Did he say what he thinks his brand is? Because asshole from The Bachelor is a pretty competitive field.”

“That’s why he wants to add dancing. None of the others are dancers.”

“I’ve seen him dance, he isn’t either.”

Clarke smiles. “Doesn’t that reflect on me? I’m the one who’s supposed to be teaching him.”

“You’re doing your best with what you have to work with.”

“Ontari is actually good.”

“She’s nominally a singer, so I guess she should be.”

“Nominally, you’re such a snob.”

“I just think when you autotune that much you should lose some of the credit for your musical skills,” he grumbles. Bellamy googles everyone who signs up for the show extensively, which is how he knows things like who Finn is and what Ontari’s music sounds like. Clarke’s experience tends to be more scattershot, with some people she recognizes and some she wouldn’t know were stars unless someone told her. Which doesn’t bother her, but she’s pretty sure Bellamy is still embarrassed about his first season, when they had Roan Churchill on the show and everyone else was star struck and Bellamy mistook him for a new PA.

So now he’s an expert.

“But she does actually have rhythm and some taste.”

“Let’s not get carried away. I’m still rooting for Monty.”

“Me too,” Clarke admits. Usually she roots for her own star, and then Bellamy’s, but since both of theirs suck, they had to find other people. Monty’s kind of quiet and dorky, famous as a cartoonist of all things, and everyone expected him to fail out basically immediately, but the guy can move. It’s kind of awesome.

“So, what does Finn do with the rose in this hypothetical dance?” he asks. “How bad is it?”

“It’s in his mouth.”

“For your disco week number?” Bellamy asks, sounding dubious.

“Don’t tell me you’re against disco roses.”

“At this point I think it’s safe to say I’m against Finn,” he grumbles. “I don’t really want you to get knocked out, but–yeah, if he could got horribly injured and you had to get a new partner, I could live with that.”

“Still working on how to break his legs and make it look like an accident. But if I figure out how, I’ll let you know.”

“If you need an alibi, just ask.”

She grins, kisses his cheek. “Yeah, I know.”

*

Clarke and Bellamy have been professionals on the show for six seasons together, but they’ve never actually danced together. It’s not something Clarke thinks about, not something she felt like she was missing in her life. She knows Bellamy is a great dancer, one of the best she’s ever seen, and she’s always thought it would be fun, but she hasn’t danced with plenty of people.

It comes up primarily because Bellamy and Ontari somehow get eliminated before she and Finn do, which is just absurd. It’s not like Clarke likesOntari–quite the opposite–but she was without a doubt a much better dancer than Finn is, and she definitely should have stayed longer.

On the bright side, Bellamy is no longer the competition, but he’s still her friend, so he’s just hanging around offering commentary on their moves. It’s kind of cheating, probably, but it’s not like he isn’t offering commentary on other people’s routines. She’s just his favorite, and he hates Finn, so he’s doing it extra for them.

“This is impossible!” Finn finally says, in exasperation. “No one could do this!”

“That’s just bullshit,” Bellamy says, mild. “Just because you can’t doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”

“Yeah? Then you do it.”

It’s an incredibly stupid thing to say, and Finn realizes it maybe a second after he says it, but it’s too late.

“Sure,” says Bellamy. He glances at his friend Miller, who’s behind the camera today. “Assuming that’s cool.”

“I don’t give a shit,” says Miller. “They might not use the footage but go for it.”

“Clarke?” he asks, and Clarke finds that she really, really wants to.

It’s a surprise, but it shouldn’t be.

“It would probably be good to get a demonstration in. You know it?”

“Yeah, I know it.” His eyes sweep over her, just once, like he’s checking in, and then he offers his hand.

She’ll be the first person to admit the whole thing works a lot better with Bellamy than it does with Finn. It’s less that sexual attraction is required for dance–it definitely isn’t–and more that comfort with the partner helps.

But it’s also a little bit that it’s a sexy song, and a sexy dance, and given her choice between dirty dancing with Finn and dirty dancing with Bellamy, Bellamy wins every time.

The speed was what was tripping Finn up, mostly, and some of the more complicated footwork, but of course Bellamy doesn’t struggle with that. He’s light on his feet, his movements sure, and his eyes never leave hers. It’s close and hot and intimate and like no other dancing has ever been, like no other partner has ever been. Her whole life, nothing has ever been like this.

By the time they’re done, everyone is staring at them, and Clarke’s wondering if she’s allowed to drag him off somewhere and fuck him now, or if she’s required to wait until later.

Judging from his expression, he’s wondering the same thing, but he makes up his mind first. “See?” he says, to no one in particular. “Anyone can do it.”

“Yeah, that’s the lesson we learned there,” says Miller, dry.

Finn, on the other hand, is just sort of gaping at them; Clarke offers him a sunny smile. “I don’t think it’s the choreography,” she says, and that makes him close his mouth.

“No,” he says, at last. “Probably not.”

*

Bellamy is waiting for her when she leaves the showers after, looking like an anxious kid after his first school dance, of all things.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hi. I thought I could, uh–I thought we should talk.”

“Talk?” she asks, amused. “You want to talk?”

“What’s wrong with talking?”

“Nothing. But it seems kind of unnecessary.”

“Unnecessary,” he repeats, but there’s a smile lurking around his mouth.

“Was some part of what happened there unclear?” she asks, trailing her fingers up his chest.

“I hope not,” he says, and leans down to kiss her.

So they’re definitely on the same page.

*

When she and Finn get eliminated that week, she assumes that it’s partly because they included some of the footage of her and Bellamy practicing together, and nothing she and Finn did came even close to being that good.

Bellamy assumes so too, because he greets her with a kiss and, “See? We got rid of him.”

“I don’t know if that counts.”

“He’s gone and we’re together,” he points out. “That sounds like winning to me.”

It’s hard to argue with that logic, and she cuddles into his arms, warm and perfectly content, despite the loss. “Yeah,” she says. “When you put it like that.”

[existentialstatesofmind]

Moving In

Clare: made a face. “That’s nasty. I’m glad you told them no. I can’t believe you haven’t been up there, Drew, you should’ve checked it out when you bought the house. What if there’s rodents? Or there could be neat stuff from previous owners. I read about people discovering something valuable in their new homes all the time because people leave what they think is old junk behind and it turns out to be worth a lot of money.” Her mouth formed an o of surprise when he told her what was down in the basement. “I see how it is, Torres, trying to keep your man cave a secret huh?” Clare teased. “That one. I wanna christen the basement now that I know how nice it is. As for the rest, we’ll see.” Clare kissed Drew back. Her lips lingered on his longer this time before she pulled back. She had a feeling they’d probably end up having sex almost everywhere in their house sooner or later. “Oh my god. I know all about that excuse not shave. Don’t forget I lived in New York. The guys at Columbia and NYU enjoyed looking like the homeless people in Central Park, and I don’t think most of them were really doing it for charity. I have got to see that picture.” She said excitedly. “Please. I need a sneak peak of the future. If you looked good, I might even encourage you to participate in No Shave November sometime again before we’re old and gray.” Clare smiled back. “Fine. I’ll do it. When I’m Grandma.” She kissed him lovingly. “Now about this Allison. If I really like the picture, we can take it to a photo place and crop her out right?” Clare lightly smacked his arm, and started laughing too hard to talk for a couple of minutes. “Okay I know I can be intense and overdramatic but no, I wouldn’t rip your head off.” She said once she could speak again. “I’d be worried because we aren’t ready and because I don’t know how to handle it when things don’t go according to plan. Admit it, you would be freaking out too Andrew.” Clare chuckled. “That’s what I want. I’m glad we’re on the same page. Soon as we stop using protection, we’ll have to be prepared to become parents though. Honeymoon babies are pretty common. Of course if I continue to take the pill that might give us more time.” Clare wasn’t sure if Drew wanted to start trying soon as they got married or just leave it up to fate. It probably depended on how far off the wedding was. She knew if they’d stuck to ‘the plan’ they would be getting engaged by now but Clare wasn’t going to bring that up. Once she’d finally admitted everything was real it had been necessary to slow down. “I just told them we weren’t starting a family yet and left it at that. Only Darcy and Alli were nosy enough to really question me anyway. I did remind both of them I’m on the pill.” When she finished her explanation of the nightmares that had been haunting her and how little sleep she’d been getting, Clare snuggled against Drew again after he kissed her. She still felt shaky but being closer to him helped. “I feel safe when I’m with you.” She said softly. “That first night when you were in the hospital before anything happened with us, I realized it when I was able to get the best night‘s sleep I‘d had in ages.“ She listened to Drew’s babysitting story. She appreciated him trying to distract her. Clare smiled as she looked at the picture. “They have a beautiful baby girl and this has to be the cutest picture of you yet. You’re good with kids that’s why you get asked to babysit. I love you too. More than anything.” She whispered back. Clare pecked his lips a few times. Her mind was still on her troubles though. “I’m so stressed out that it’s causing me problems at work.” She admitted.

Drew: looked at Clare when she mentioned the attic. "I would've found out if there were rodents up there by now. I was babysitting a ferret for a few weeks and he ran into the attic a few times as I was cleaning the cage. Once I let him run around my mom's house since she swore she heard noises of some sort and I figured I'd be mean and let the ferret hide her stuff since he hid mine. Instead, he ran somewhere up stairs and we heard small thuds coming down the stairs every so often so I thought he was bringing one of her shoes to hide, turns out there was a mouse in my mom's house and he killed it and bought it to us as a gift or something. I know he killed it because the mouse was dying as he had it between his teeth. After that I took him to the vet to get checked out. I wasn't charged for the check up because the vet told me ferrets are smart animals and wouldn't have killed the mouse if it was sick, he would've just let it die." he said. "Plus the mouse would've been dead withing a few hours." he added, then looked at her. "The only thing in my attic are squirrels. There's a hole in the roof that they go into during the winter to keep warm. They mainly stay in the roof though since my friends told me they aren't in the house. There aren't any holes in the walls." he shrugged. Plus I've banged on the walls and nothing, but when I climbed on the roof and jumped a few times, they ran out." he shrugged. "So I'm not worried about them since they go in and out on a daily basis, my guess is that they're house broken or something, it's obvious that they were hiding in there for years based on small hole I found that was plastered over and gnawed open more than once and the attic doesn't smell at all based on what my friends told me." he shrugged letting her know there wasn't anything for them to worry about. A soft chuckle fell from his lips when she mentioned his man cave and looked at her. "I want to keep my man cave, yes, but I don't want to keep it a secret from you. I want you to feel that you're able to go down there whenever you want to or that it's just mine because nothing is just mine anymore. It's now ours." he assured and let their lips linger as they kissed. A soft chuckle fell from Drew's lips as she mentioned people in her college looking like homeless men and pulled out the picture of him and Allison. "There you go. I don't really look homeless though." he shrugged and looked at her to see her reaction to his picture. "Thank you. We can let people think we're the real Mr. and Mrs. Clause." he smiled. "You know, give other kids hope that Santa is real." he added and smiled at her. "Yes if you want to we can crop Allison out of it." he assured and kissed her more. He liked that Clare wouldn't rip his head off if she had gotten pregnant and listened to her. "I don't think I'd freak out that much, I mean I'd be terrified especially with work, but the restaurant right now basically runs itself which happened faster than expected so I'd stay home when needed and bring the baby with me when I check up on it." he shrugged. "But I would like to wait as you've said." he agreed and listened to her mention being prepared. "Clare, we are prepared. I have enough money saved off to buy you an engagement ring, get married, go on our honeymoon and maybe have some left over. I make about $60 an hour on my own just by how much the restaurant brings in counting food, taxes, staff, insurance on it in case something happens, and the rest left over gets put into my safe here in our room." he said pointing to it. "I just leave that there because you never know when something will break or how much it will cost to replace it." he added. "I kind of want to leave when we have a baby up to fate so if you want to, when we get married you can stop taking the pill." he suggested and listened to her mention Alli and Darcy, he didn't say anything since it was only natural for them to guess that since they were close to Clare and protective of her. "Baby, you need to relax and unstress, while I'm glad that you feel safe in my arms because you are, I don't like when you're over stressed." he stated and moved out of their bed. "Come on, lets move down to my man cave, relax on the couch and watch a movie or something. The TV down there has surround sound." he held out his hand for her.