#... I saved talk in pertains to his personality for the tags

[phantomyre]

Rebirth-Vincent Analysis/Breakdown 1 Vincent's connection to Sephiroth and why his penance is now justified (SPOILERS)

Bear in mind this is mostly an analysis and some of it may be obvious to some. But the purpose of this is to shed light on some of the more nuanced aspects pertaining to Vincent's character and what we might expect from him moving into part 3. I will be breaking these into parts so as to not create such lengthy posts. NOTE: It has been over 2 weeks so I will no longer be censoring content, but I will maintain the spoiler tags. --------------

For starters, Vincent’s personality has been well implemented in that some of his more nuanced traits are highlighted in Rebirth. Compared to OG’s depiction of him, he is more hostile and skeptical than before. In OG, he divulges everything from Sephiroth’s past to his own involvement with Shinra. Not so in Rebirth, however. As a matter of fact, he avoids talking about Sephiroth altogether (up until a certain side-quest), and only calls himself ‘security’ instead of telling the group he once worked for Shinra. Regarding the source of his guilt, it heavily revolves around Sephiroth without so much as a mention of Hojo. As a result, instead of Hojo being his target, Vincent’s driving motivation for joining Cloud’s company is Sephiroth, siting he has unfinished business with Sephiroth. Previously in OG, Vincent’s regret stemmed from his inability to prevent Lucrecia and Hojo from experimenting on their child, Sephiroth. Little else was given, and fans have long held the notion that Vincent had needlessly punished himself for something that was completely not his fault, criticizing his self-hatred as pure edginess and being overdramatic. However, Rebirth has shown there is yet another layer of tragedy regarding the reason for Vincent’s self-imposed punishment. And this leads to the topic of Vincent’s relationship to Sephiroth.

When the party first meet Vincent, though he initially plays the part of a security guard and interrogates them for a breach of ID security, his aggression quickly deflates when he learns that the party is after Sephiroth. It isn’t until Cloud steps into the chamber that used to contain Sephiroth’s samples that Vincent becomes extremely hostile towards the party, oddly protective of the room and whatever info on Sephiroth it may have had. Once Vincent is finally convinced to join the party for the sole purpose of meeting Sephiroth, Vincent states he has some ‘unfinished business’ with Sephiroth. The weight of this motivation becomes very heavy when Vincent finally tells the group the nature of Vincent and Sephiroth’s ‘unique bond’.

According to Vincent, he feels partially to blame for Sephiroth’s cruelty. While that isn’t completely new, Vincent goes on to say that he ‘had many opportunities to purge him from this world’, also sighting the countless people suffering as experiments in the basement. In OG, Vincent was unaware of the evils Sephiroth had committed until Cloud told him. Vincent even says ‘all this while I was sleeping’ when he joins Cloud in seeing the vision of Nibelheim burning—proving Vincent was naïve of the events. In later compilations, it’s implied that Vincent is indeed able to sense turmoil around him since he so happens to turn up whenever someone is about to die. This led fans to question how Vincent was so oblivious to one of the most devastating events in FF7’s story. In Rebirth, however, we learn Vincent was far from oblivious. This implies that Vincent was aware of Sephiroth massacring Nibelheim, the survivors becoming human-experiments, and likely Zack and Cloud’s experimentation as well. Vincent not only neglected to save Lucrecia and Sephiroth during the experimentations, but he also turned a blind eye to the plight of others, allowing Sephiroth to continue his rampage. And not just once or twice. But many times. This is a significant change to Vincent’s story and will likely play a large part in part 3 in his journey to redemption. The red cloak he wears now makes more symbolic sense as he carries the blood of innocents on his shoulders. Now… Vincent’s penance is justified.

[onthecusk]

nine-to-five | chapter 1 (now: don't call me angel)

summary: Ikeda Fuyumi desperately needs a new job. Enter Gojo Satoru, her insufferable ex-boyfriend-slash-academic rival who happens to show up in the office at her job interview welcoming her with a pathetic Fifty Shades joke. Surely, she would have to turn the opportunity down—except she doesn't. Now Gojo isn't just her insufferable ex-boyfriend-slash-academic rival but her colleague as well, possibly even more as they spend time working together. And with an equally attractive girl like Fuyumi around, Gojo is sure that his job isn't the only thing he'll be treating like a nine-to-five. What could happen?

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!OC (office AU)

note on the pairing: the idea is that it's a fem reader. but since i dislike "y/n" and writing in second person to refer to the reader, i came up with an oc to make it easier and more enjoyable for me to write. but you can imagine yourself as the oc or whatever you please!

tags/content warnings: (+18) MDNI, heavy smut, praise (and i mean lots of praise), eventual smut, enemies with benefits, alternating timelines, office au, fluff, slow burn (kinda?), suggestive dialogues, dirty talk, pining, second chances, satoru gojo is his own warning

word count: 2k

author's note: hi thanks for reading! this was originally posted on ao3, but after much deliberation, i've decided to cross-publish it on tumblr. i started writing and planning this fanfic last year, but was put on hold because uni happened. i'm so excited to finally be continuing the story 🤍 please like and reblog (or comment, would love to hear your thoughts too!) if you enjoyed reading. i'm a new account so i would appreciate it sm <3 i'll make a masterlist soon!

FUYUMI

“Mr. Grey will see you now.”

Contrary to the “universally acknowledged truth” pertaining to a certain Mr. Darcy, a man in possession of a good fortune is definitely not in want of a wife, but of an ex-girlfriend to pester and perturb. Case in point: Gojo Satoru.

Because here I am, on a bright Tuesday afternoon, trapped in a room with my maniacal ex-boyfriend-slash-nemesis, pathetically enduring one of his lame jokes (he chose a Fifty Shades of Grey reference this time, like the brat that he is and always has been, always was) that were always either diabolical or dirty—there is no in-between. But as much as I wanted to react, as is my right to, I couldn’t help but simply freeze in place, my hand still holding onto the door handle keeping the heavy door ajar, as if the feel of the cold metal bar in my palm would keep me safe from whatever danger this situation has to offer. How on earth did I get myself into this? How is he here?

“Cat got your tongue?” Satoru teases, with a conceited smirk plastered on his face. 

“Pervert,” I say through gritted teeth as I snap back to reality, “That wasn’t funny. What are you doing here?"

Most importantly, where the fuck have you been?

"This isn’t your office," I continue. "I’m supposed to be doing this interview with Mr. Nanami Kento and I checked twice to make sure this was the right room.”

“And it is, we’re in his office—but ’Mr.’ Nanami Kento had an urgent meeting to attend to so he couldn’t make it,” he says, putting emphasis on “Mr.” as if it had been malicious of me to address a stranger who quite literally holds the fate of my employment in his hands that way.

“And you just magically appeared out of thin air to save the day? After all these years?"

“If it’s you who needs saving, why wouldn’t I?”

His signature smirk is still intact on his stupid face. I try very hard to compose myself and put on a professional front despite this situation being silly enough to make me want to throw up and cry at the same time.

“Alright, that's enough. I’ll see myself out and ask Mr. Nanami to reschedule my interview,” I confidently respond. “Thanks for your time.”

Or maybe I’ll just quit while I’m ahead and not push through with the interview at all. That way, I’ll personally eliminate my chances of having to see Satoru ever again. I bow my head and turn around to exit the room.

“Fuyumi,” Satoru calls out, now in a different tone—firmer, and there definitely was a cold ring to his voice this time. It always surprised me how quickly he could dabble with his moods to accurately accommodate whatever the current situation required of him. I could never acclimate to my surrounding as confidently as he does and seeing him in action can be scary sometimes. “Can we start over?”

I wince at how intentional that question was. With it coming from his mouth, I didn’t have to think too hard to know it was his tricky way of making me think it could mean starting our relationship or my interview over again. It’s one or the other and I hate myself for still being delusional over some of the things Satoru says when I know he does it on purpose every single damn time.

“The interview, I mean,” Satoru says. And then a beat. “I know what’s on your mind. Don’t get ahead of yourself, angel.”

“Don’t call me angel,” I retort.

“What do you mean?" he says. "It’s a compliment, darling.”

“It’s demeaning and invalidating," I reply sternly. "Especially coming from you. And don’t call me that either.”

“You mean ‘darling’?" he teases. "Sure, whatever you say, angel.”

“I said stop it, or else—“ I abruptly stop, realizing halfway through my sentence that I didn't have anything else to say.

“Hm?” he hums, then smirks.

“Or else, what?” he adds. God, just shut up.

“I’m ignoring you," I say, avoiding his gaze like my life depended on it.

“No, tell me," he tilts his head on the side. "Or else what, Fuyumi? What are you gonna do?”

I take a deep breath and say, "Can we please move on from this?"

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, angel.”

“You’re hopeless, Satoru. I’m out," I snap, turning my back on him to head towards the door once more.

I hear footsteps rushing towards me from behind. Before I have completely made my way out, Satoru is there, his body a few inches away from mine. His left hand is suddenly on the door, slamming it shut with just enough force so as not to make too much noise. 

“Right, whatever, I shouldn’t have said those things, huh?” He says and I’m taken aback by his random sincerity. “But I know how talented and capable you are, so, will you tolerate me a bit more? I’ll be professional this time. Just until we finish this interview, yeah? We really need someone as… good as you, Fuyumi.”

This is weird—Satoru rarely took conversations seriously. But I badly need this job, what choice do I have?

I guess it’s about time I address the elephant in the room: Gojo Satoru is my ex-boyfriend, as I’ve already mentioned. Once upon a time, it was 2006, and he was my most insufferable academic rival. One thing led to another and next thing you know, we were in a relationship—a childish one at that; we were only sixteen. The last time I’d seen him was 11 years ago when we broke up in the summer of that same year. What he had done humiliated me so much that I had to transfer to a different school the following semester. Which is why he has no business looking as smug and self-assured as he is right now—after what he’d done to me all those years ago. At this rate, I’d rather be locked up in solitary confinement, seriously. 

“Just out of curiosity, why did you leave Kawaguchi Publishing?” Satoru asks after several routine interview questions.

“Well, I would like to keep things strictly professional and I could say things just didn’t work out between me and my previous employer, but that would make it seem like I’m the problem,” I pause, contemplating. “My previous boss, he—well, I don’t know if I should be saying this but—“ I fiddle with the hem of my skirt.

“My previous boss made a pass at me,” I finally say. “I didn’t want to keep working for that kind of person. It’s against everything I stand for.”

Satoru clenches his jaw.

“I handled it fine,” I say. “I filed a lawsuit against him and had him fired. There’s no need to get all tensed up.”

“It’s just,” Satoru clears his throat. “Never mind.” I know that look on his face, I know it all too well. He’s holding back from saying something out of pocket—like he’d kill that man and do everything in his power to get back at him. I’d have protected you if I were there. But I see it, he’s holding back. And I prefer that he is. I don’t want this interaction to be anything more than a job interview. 

After a couple more questions, Satoru wraps up the interview and composes himself, placing my documents back in its folder. I stand up and reach my hand out to him, “Alright, I appreciate your professionalism. Thanks for your time.” My gesture is screaming Thank you but I’d feel better if you let me go now, this is too awkward. And just like that, his smirk is back. He doesn’t acknowledge nor shake my hand. Instead, he continues to sit pretty on the swivel chair that isn’t even his to begin with, maintaining eye contact with me, devilishly prolonging my corporate imprisonment. I wish I could say that he looks horrible—a gremlin, the personification of Gollum, an ugly, sloth-looking know-it-all. But no, he’s the opposite of all that. He’s attractive, especially from this angle—with me looking down on him. Or do I like how he’s looking up at me like that? All I see is blue. Like the ocean. I want to walk and sink into his eyes and never come back.

“What are you thinking, angel?” Satoru teases as he notices me staring at him. God, this is stupid. I’m so stupid.

“Oh, not much,” I play along. “Just how badly I want to strangle you right now.” 

“Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t like that.”

“Oh yeah? Not when my intention is to kill you.”

“Cupcake," he exhales. I cringe. That damned nickname, the one he occasionally used on me whenever he tried to get on my nerves in high school. "I could think of other ways you could kill me or, as the poets say, suck the life out of me," he smirks, like the devil I've always known. "Out of my—"

"Said no poet ever," I interrupt with a hint of sarcasm. "But sure. Hmm, let's see. I'd love to put little Satoru through a meat grinder."

"You mean my dick? Ouch," he winces, faking a pained expression. "If so, then you'd need the biggest meat grinder the world has ever seen."

A beat. I mentally scramble over my thoughts thinking of the perfect comeback. But I couldn't think fast enough when his ever-striking blue eyes are piercing through mine.

God. No.

We're not doing this.

"So, what else?" he smirks, again. "Is that all you got? Tell me more. You'd be surprised at how much I can handle."

“That so?” I scoff. “But I wouldn’t feel too proud about ‘how much I can handle’ if my sleep-deprived neighbors complained too often about some girl regularly screaming my name at night. Oh wait—that’s you. That’s not very neighborly, Satoru.”

Satoru slightly raises both of his arms and claps loudly, clearly a celebratory motion that was meant to piss me off. He hasn’t changed one bit.

“Thanks for acknowledging the fact that I’m so ridiculously good at pleasing my women, angel.”

I have no idea how many girls came after me and Satoru's love life definitely is none of my business. But I'm not quite sure how I feel about the thought of him making love to someone else—to another girl. My stomach sunk thinking about it just now, as if my organs were carving a hollow onto themselves—a hollow I never even knew existed.

Still, I think about Satoru making some other girl feel good and it makes me want to vomit. I feel sick. What is this feeling? I mean, after over a decade, I know I was sure about one thing. That I hate him. I hate Gojo Satoru, as I should. I was sure about it then, and I still am sure about it now.

“Are we done here? Because I actually have things to do—and sitting around in someone else’s office instead of doing their job isn’t one of them.” I start picking my things up and Satoru stands up, chuckling at my remark. If I’m offered this job and I take it, I wonder how many trips to the HR I’m going to have to make to get Satoru off my back. 

“Sure.” A smirk. There it is again.

I fake a smile and head to the door—for real this time. But Satoru follows closely behind and holds the door open for me. 

“I look forward to having you work under me,” he says. “If you know what I mean.”

“Definitely. You'll see me in HR filing a complaint.”

How do you quit a job before you’re even hired?

to be continued...

© onthecusk. all rights reserved. please do not reproduce, copy, republish, or translate any portion of my work without my permission. thank you for reading 🤍

[ecargmura]

The Yuzuki Family's Four Sons Episode 9 Review - Classroom Visitation Day

Oh gosh, Minato interrupted the opening to give his summary of the previous episode before resuming it. I think that has never happened in this show before! I had a good chuckle. This episode has Gakuto’s class visitation happen with its own twists and happy ending.

I didn’t expect Minato to want to skip class to go to the class visitation but I also didn’t expect Mikoto to come along. I know that Minato dotes on Gakuto a lot, and it was a sweet gesture that he wanted to show up for Gakuto’s classroom visitation, but haven’t he thought about the stares and rumors that would form if he, a middle school student cutting class, showed up? That would’ve harmed Gakuto more than helping, in all honesty. Having Mikoto around was handy, so I don’t really know why he was being so mean to him; his brother saved his hide by pretending they were out doing research for school when a nosy lady came and asked about why they were on the streets. I get that it’s sibling rivalry on Minato’s end, but still… I did like that Mikoto had no idea what was going on with Minato, but still wanted to tag along. When Minato accidentally spilled the beans, he wanted to come along not for Minato’s sake, but because he’s also Gakuto’s brother. That was sweet.

I’m glad that word of the classroom visitation got out to Hayato, but he had to learn about this from a colleague. I’m sure Hayato was extremely devastated when he learned about this. The fact that Gakuto hid it from him was already damage to his heart, but the fact that he learned this from a third party probably hurt even more. Hayato already has it rough being both the eldest and his brothers’ legal guardian. He always worries whether if he’s doing enough for them, so I’m sure Gakuto keeping the visitation event a secret must have been him thinking he was unreliable in Gakuto’s eyes. I’m glad that everything got resolved peacefully, though. I think what Hayato said to Gakuto about how they need to talk with each other because he’s important to him was beautiful; my heart squeezed because of the sweetness.

I think Hayato’s colleagues, specifically Mr. Akiyama and Ms. Hanaoka are absolute sweethearts. Although Hayato is much younger than them, they do whatever they can to help Hayato by talking to him about his worries and such. There was one instance in the beginning where Hayato and Mr. Akiyama were talking about how a student was asking Hayato for world history questions. While he wanted to help as he knew the student had the courage to come to him for help, he couldn’t be of much use, which worried him for future possibilities. Mr. Akiyama then suggests looking into manga as manga can be educational; he tells Hayato about how one of his students is good at geography and why he was good at it was because he read a manga where the characters had names that pertained to geographical locations. Mr. Akiyama seems a few years older than Hayato, so it’s nice that he has a more modern mindset rather than an old-fashioned one. Ms. Hanaoka was complimenting his bento but was also worried about his dark circles. I can tell that Hayato is a very kind and caring person because the same type of people are around him.

I’m glad that Gakuto learned an important lesson in not to assume and to always communicate with his brothers whenever something comes up. I hope that he takes that lesson to heart in a future episode. Just seeing the Yuzuki family and the people around them be such kind and sweet people makes me happy. I also feel bad for Saki missing out on everything. What was your thoughts on this episode?

[stars-self-ships]

It should come as no surprise to longtime followers of both this blog and my main that I take great joy in designing self-inserts for my favorite franchises, whether it's to see how well I can capture a certain vibe or just so I can have a good visual of what I'd look like in that universe to kiss my beloved F/Os— though, if I'm being honest, most of the time it's the latter!

Doing so has been easy for the most part, as a lot of the franchises some of my most treasured S/Is hail from don't necessarily have a complex visual style. Take for example Psycha, who was easy to design outfit-wise after basing it off of an outfit I would wear, or perhaps my Centaurworld S/I, who was even easier to design as all I had to do was draw a toony version of myself with a deertaur half!

Given my recent adoration toward my latest hyperfixation Winds of Change, it was a given that I would design a self-insert for its universe, and I was already brimming with ideas for what a fantasy version of my fursona would look like in the world of Alestia! However, as a contrast to most of my other favorite medias, Winds of Change boasts a very detailed visual style and outfit design for its cast, which meant my S/I would have to follow suit as to not look too out of place.

And about two weeks of on-and-off work later...

I can finally unveil my Winds of Change self-insert, Micah Winddane!

(Check out underneath the cut for a lengthy deep dive on the creation of the above drawing as well as a full view of this sheep seer's weapon of destiny!)

Gosh, where do I even begin? There is just so much that I want to talk about when it came to designing Micah Winddane that it's tough to find a good place to start!

Because Winds of Change has an all-anthro cast, it ended up being a given that I— yet again— would be choosing to model my S/I after a sheep, much like my fursona, Psycha, etc. However, rather than using Psycha as a base as I had for my fursona, I actually modeled Micah Winddane after an actual breed of sheep... the Leicester Longwool!

True to their name, Leicester Longwool sheep are notable for their overly lengthy fur, and given that my hair is currently at the longest length that it's ever been, it felt only fitting to design my Winds of Change S/I around them! This also meant that I would be using a more golden color for the hair as opposed to the usual 'tan-white' color most of my other sheep S/Is have, and if you look closely, you can even see that there's a distinct fur pattern on his face!

With sheep specifics out of the way, let's focus on Micah Winddane's outfit. If you read the tags of my first Winds of Change related post on this blog, you might have seen that I first wanted him to be an 'anxious but good-hearted visionary with a cool fantasy robe'— which, to be honest with you, was how I had been envisioning him throughout my time playing through the game's prelude!

The only reason the whole 'cool fantasy robe' aspect didn't stick around for long, however, was due to a certain set of characters in Winds of Change possessing such a look... The Triumvirate, antagonists who are shrouded in mystery underneath an iconic white robe with a yellow trim.

Not wanting my S/I to be dressed too similarly to the big bads, I had to opt for something a little more modest, and in line with the outfits the rest of Winds of Change's cast wear. I took to Google to cherry-pick several medieval outfit designs, and took my favorite aspects of each one to combine together into a base outfit.

For a while, the above lineart was just about all I could come up with. Of course, it looked a little bland by this point, but that was merely because I hadn't given him a good coloring, yet... but that was another hurdle of its own. I knew how I would color his fur and hair, but what about his clothes...?

Thankfully, Winds of Change's canon provided a solution. Around the point of the game where you receive the all-powerful Blade of Exodus— which we'll also focus on in due time— you also are given a change of clothes... clothes that are described as a 'combination of Valessa and Fortaime's outfits'.

It's a good thing that the base design I had already drawn didn't stray too far from a hypothetical mix between Valessa and Fortaime's clothes, and it even served as a good basis of how to color Micah Winddane's own. I color picked certain colors from both their designs to use in my S/Is and was soon able to settle on a color palette that I liked!

... but the design still felt particularly lacking. The colors looked great, as did what I had for an outfit, but the more I looked at my current progress, I felt as though something was missing... and then, I had a brilliant idea— if I couldn't give him a robe, what if I gave him a cape?

Fortaime's baggy scarf was my main inspiration in settling on a shoulder cape, and the instant I had the idea of giving my S/I one, I wasted no time in adding it to his design... and I'm so glad that I did, because it made him look SO much better!! I knew that I wanted his cape to be a shade of blue (My trademark favorite color), and settled on a faded shade since a more vibrant blue looked a little too shrill amidst the other colors.

Lastly, since my Winds of Change S/I is the foretold Seer, he would need to be equipped with the aforementioned Blade of Exodus throughout his adventure. However, upon coming up with the idea of giving Micah Winddane a large sword sling to carry the blade on his back, I realized something...

... the blade only has two canonical appearances from what I've seen, and only one of which— being found in the game's logo— shows it in full color. I was thankful to even have a visual of the Blade of Exodus, but only having the linked image to go off of in terms of color made redrawing it a bit tough, as I would have to improvise a bit to make it look less desaturated.

And what started out as improvising turned into a slight stylization of the Blade of Exodus' colors! Throughout the game, there's a large emphasis on how obvious it is that you're the possessor of the blade, and I decided to give the blade colors that stand out from the otherwise dull colors of Micah Winddane's outfit!

... uh, wow. I think that might just be my most in-depth design deep dive I've written yet. But everything that I wanted to touch base on has been accounted for, and with all of it written out at last, it feels so wonderful to finally get around to sharing this design with everyone as it's one of my ultimate favorite self-insert designs I've ever created!

[piscesparker]

Betraying the bond

Masterlist | Taglist

Part 1

"Rise and shine, your highness!" My maid, Amber, chirped as she drew the curtains open letting the sunlight come in. I groaned and rolled to the other side, shielding my eyes from the bright light and bringing the quilt closer to my chest. I had hoped that since my classes were canceled I might have some more hours to rest but that clearly was not happening. "I hope you're excited for today." She continued. In all honesty I had no intention whatsoever to be part of welcoming the royal family for Redmont, I just wished I could stay up in my room without anyone to disturb me or tell me what lessons I have to attend every hour or so.

"Yeah, a bit." I said, removing the covers off me and slipping out of my comfortable bed.

"I really can't believe that soon the war might come to an end." Amber really was the kind of person that would talk your ears off but I, on the other hand loved listening and talking about everything that does not pertain to me running a country in the future. "And I am so excited for this new chapter in your life!" She exclaimed as I rubbed my eye, finally waking up.

"So how is he?" Her eyes glistened with hope.

"How is who?"

"Your future husband! Who else?"

My future what?

"Amber what are you talking about?" I chuckled nervously, she brought me my breakfast tray along with a newspaper sitting beside my plate of buttered toast and chamomile tea. I look at her excited face skeptically as it took the news paper and saw a collage photo of me and prince Harrison and read the headline which couldn't be missed.

The Kingdoms of Northollow and Redmont will not only be uniting in land, but also will be uniting in the form of marriage for Princess Y/n and Prince Harrison.

My eyes widened with shock. Marriage? How could dad keep this away from me? He knew how much I despised the thought of being married early and yet went on to give my hand in marriage without even asking me? Leaving my breakfast, I stormed to dad's office. At this moment I did not care that I was running around the castle bare foot and in my nightgown, I had to talk to him before he ruins my life. I was too furious to think of knocking, barging in, I slammed the paper on his desk, "Were you going to tell me you were getting me married or did I have to wait till I gave birth to your first grand child?"

He looked at me and then around the room, trying to tell me that he had visitors. "Please excuse us." He said. "Well?" I asked impatiently, hands on my hips.

"Honey I had no choice." His eyes softened, I sat down and sighed, taking in everything. "I did it for the kingdom, and I know I should have asked you but I know you would have said no."

"Of course I would!" I raised my voice and cut him off, banging my fist on the desk.

"Y/n, I know you're upset," I scoffed, upset would be an understatement, "but this is soon going to be your life, you will have to make decisions that you won't favor but it will be in the betterment of your people." He explained. It was true, the role of being a leader is always sacrificing yourself for others; I couldn't argue, as much as I wanted to I couldn't. I knew what dad was saying was right, I've been training for this. Maybe it was the suddenness that enraged me this early in the morning. Most kids get surprise gifts whereas I get surprise a marriage to someone I don't even know.

"Okay," I took a deep breath, "I will agree only on one condition." His eyes lightened up. "Since I don't know him that well, I wish to take my time to get to know him, if he is not a snob then and only then might I agree to this arrangement." Dad took some time to think about it but he agreed.

"Okay, well now I'm going to get dressed now." You gave a tight lipped smile.

"Good, because I don't want to him to see you in your night gown this early on." Dad winked.

"Dad!" I whined and went back to my room to continue my day with dread.

As I entered my room again I saw Amber cleaning up my room, she whipped her head and her eyes met my disappointed ones, "Is everything alright your highness?"

"Well yes and no." She furrowed her brows and turned her attention to me. "Apparently your king was going to get me married, without actually telling me." She let out a soft 'oh', "But don't worry, I handled it." I winked her way plopping on my bed and taking a bite of my toast. "What would you like to wear to day your highness?" Amber brought out two gowns in front of me; a silky navy blue a-line gown and a teal blue knee-length dress. "The teal blue one please."

After getting dressed, Amber helped me with my hair, putting it in a neat bun as the pins poked in my skull and light make up, nothing too heavy. Looking at the clock I saw that I had some time before the guests could arrive so I decided to take a walk with Spencer and try to clear my mind. Walking past the horses in the stable, a particular white one caught my eye and made me grin, opening the door I smile and ruffle his well-kept hair and pulling him out before putting on the reins.

Spencer wasn't only my pet he was also my friend, the only one whom I could talk my heart to and I felt like he actually heard me, it felt nice. "You know Spence, I don't think I'll ever be able to like him. What if he's a snob or worse," I paused and shuddered, "hates horses." He cried, as if he was saying that I wouldn't allow it; I smiled, "You're right, I am overthinking it."

After a refreshing walk with Spencer I entered to the hustling and bustling of servants in the castle. "Oh, there you are!" Mom called out.

"Hey mom."

"I heard what happened." She held my hand and gave a small squeeze reassuring me.  

"Did you know?" She stayed silent for longer than I expected and then nodded; I sighed.

"Did everyone beside me know that I was getting married?"

"I really am sorry, the circumstances were such, we couldn't help it." She gave an apologetic smile, and went back to her work of making sure everything was ready for the royal family's arrival. The royal family of Redmont was  very special because they were more progressed than us since it was already being ruled by their queen, her majesty Phil. I always admired her integrity and will power to actually rule a kingdom and being beloved by her people; I was more excited to meet her than her son.

My family and I stood at the doors of the castle as the fanfare blew signalling their arrival. The red and gold carriage came to a stop and her majesty made the most grand yet modest entrance, followed by her youngest, Princess Charlotte and then stepped out my nightmare. He wore a white ruffle shirt with a royal blue jacket which had a few army medals pinned to the left with ridiculously tight pants. Why was I looking at his pants? As the walked up the stairs his blonde hair bounced with every step and then his piercing ocean blue eyes met mine as he gave me a smug smile which I already despised.

"Welcome to our humble abode your majesty!" Dad greeted, giving a respected bow which she reciprocated.

"The pleasure is all ours, thank you." She smiled.

"Your majesty." A deep voice caught my attention, Harrison and put forward his hand asking me to do the same. Unwillingly I slipped my hand in his as he placed a soft kiss on my knuckles, eyes meeting once again. "Y/n, would you mind showing Princess Charlotte and Prince Harrison their rooms?" Mom asked and I nodded, "After me your highness." I flashed a small smile.

"How was your journey?" I asked Charlotte, trying to make small talk, climbing up the stairs.

"It would have been better if I wasn't accompanied by my brother dear." She rolled her eyes and looked over her shoulder to the boy following us.

"Trust me siblings are annoying." I scoffed.

"Uh, ladies?" Harrison cleared his throat, "I'm right here." We ignored him and continued to laugh. I lead Charlotte to her room first, "This is your room your highness," I said opening the doors and letting her enter, "and you will have your maid here in case you need anything at all, please do not hesitate."

"Thank you," she smiled, "but please call me Lottie, highness seems to formal, now that we are going to be in-laws soon." She teased as I sent a nervous smile her way. I turned around to show Harrison his room when I crashed into his strong chest, he placed his firm hand on my hips to save me from falling, "Falling so soon for me?" He smirked. "You wish." I cleared my throat and balanced myself. We walked in silence to his room, "Well, this is your room." I licked my lips, "Your butler will be here if you need anything at all."

"Well I did want something." He called out before I left, "Where is your room?"

Excuse me? "Its down the hall, third door," I said hesitantly, "why may I ask?"

"Well my butler can't give me everything I want, I'll see you at dinner." He winked at me and closed the door, leaving me in the hallway absolutely baffled. What did he mean by that? I knew something was wrong about him.

General Taglist: @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @peaches-parker @mischiefmanaged011 @hollanderfangirl @calltothewild @parkerpeter24 @whatthefuckimbisexual @yourstrulyamour @felicityparkers @theonly1outof-a-billion @miraclesoflove @theliterarymess @osterfieldholland01 @spideyssunshine @zspideyy @chillingonlife @yousayironisayman @keithseabrook27

Harrison Osterfield Taglist: @hollandbroz-n-haz @hjoficrecs @euphorichxlland @asshatgrace @anissalime @just-lost-inbetween-worlds

Betraying the bond taglist: @in-some-fandoms @frenchfrostpudding @sheranatic111 @kickingn-ames @tomhollander96 @minejungwoo @multific @emistrash @thisetaernallove @angelsgrxzer @hellomadambutterfly @britishvamps @falconxbarnes @bicyhot1 @romanodgers

Strike through means I couldn't tag you

[poetrusicperry]

you guessed it– even more writing

@yourpal​ step on up, buddy, because this one’s all yours (:

ship: i’m going to say i’d ship you w pitts (mostly for all the fun you guys would have just like.. doing things together (‘: )

hcs:

you and pitts would most certainly not really acknowledge each other’s existences at first. not really in a bad way, you were just never formally introduced to him like the rest of the poets.

because of this, you’d probably wonder why he never came over to introduce himself when you were so obviously sitting there quietly being part of the group

the reason for this, though, was that he just thought you were really cute and he’s so awkward around pretty people, so he saves himself the embarrassment by not talking to you

charlie talks to him and gives him some interesting tips so the next time you guys see each other, he sits next to you and after about twenty painful minutes of him summoning the courage, he turns to you and says “hi, i’m gerard. the boys call me ‘pitts’” and would hold his hand out, which you’d shyly shake

but once you guys got past that semi-awkward talking stage, you both opened up pretty easily

you’d always make little gifts or knick knacks for the poets, sneaking the gifts into their rooms where they’d always find them when they were least expecting

you would definitely have been friends with meeks before anyone else because you both care a lot about school

you’d get along really well with cameron, too, because of your academic track record and you seemed to be the only one apart from his idiot friends to take school (mostly) seriously.

baking with neil !!! he was hopeless at it, but just liked to be included (you’d pretty much only let him lick the spoons or set timers for you because he most definitely added way too much leavening at one point in a batch of chocolate chip cookies)

you and todd would like to go to museums together (once you started seeing pitts, he’d always tag along, but leave you and todd mostly to yourselves because pitts was pretty far-removed from things pertaining to art)

you and charlie would sometimes butt heads because his personality was a lot for a shy person like yourself to handle, but you never clashed hard enough to cause any ripples in your relationships or friend group (:

also– baking with pitts !! who is surprisingly skilled in all things having to do with a kitchen. he really liked being creative, drafting outlandish recipes with you that somehow always tasted great ((:

there would most certainly be a week where you’d try to teach all the poets how to crochet, but gave up after three days because charlie said it was “too hard,” cameron and meeks didn’t have time because they had “to study,” and neil and pitts’ hands were just too clumsy and big to deal with small needles/yarn/or thread.

todd would approach you later, though, asking if you could still teach him because he found it soothing (:

blurb:

your first date with pitts would be simple, but sweet. he asked you to be ready with tennis shoes on at 8a.m. on a saturday, which you found to be an odd request since you had zero clue what he could possibly be planning, but when you opened your door to leave, he was just about to knock,

“oh, you’re just on time,” you said quietly, smiling up at him (this boy is tall as fuck ok).

“of course i am,” he’d return the smile and hold his arm out for you to link your arm through his.

“where are we going?” you asked, linking his arm with yours.

“well… hold on,” he had a very slight mischievous look in his eyes, and he’d walk you out to the grounds, “i… remembered how much you like to hike, and i begged dr. hager to drive us somewhere, but he refused, so i thought maybe we could just um… walk around the grounds a bit… maybe a little further out from campus, but just like… it’s just… we’re just going on a walk,” his voice fell a little toward the end of his sentence, feeling like it was lame, but you thought it was the most endearing thing in the world.

“i love that,” you’d beam up at him.

“really?” he’d ask, looking down at you hopefully,

“really,” you’d smile even bigger. you two would start walking, taking your sweet time (pitts was a pretty slow walker in general, but he wanted to extend the time he got to spend with you as long as possible). when you’d been walking for about five minutes he cleared his throat, causing you to pull your eyes up to him again,

“could i um… would it be cool if i like… held your hand or something? can i hold your hand?” he’d rush to get all this out and you’d go a bit pink in the cheeks before nodding and smiling at him.

“sick,” he’d say, making a mental note to tell meeks all about how he got to hold the prettiest girl in the world’s hand later.

[sapphire374]

Soy Sol: Chapter 8 (Long Story Short, It was a Tough Day)

Wattpad Link

Ch.1 / Ch.2 / Ch.3 / Ch.4 / Ch.5 / Ch.6 / Ch.7 / Ch.9 / Ch.10 / Ch.11 / Ch.12 / Ch.13 / Ch.14 / Ch.15 / Ch.16 / Ch.17

Simón approaches the doors of the Jam and Roller. He pulls out a set of keys from his pocket and selectively picks the one with the J&R emblem engraved on it. He’s surprised when he grabs the doorknob and is able to open it without unlocking it himself. He walks in cautiously. “Is anyone here?” No one answers. Everything seems to be intact. He wonders maybe Pedro forgot to lock up last night?

He keeps walking around and gets a little startled noticing a person sitting in front of the main desk in the office. He shakes his head and rubs his tired eyes. Sitting there is Ámbar, crying in her arms.

“Linda que paso? What happened?” He worriedly rushes by her side. “It’s official, no one’s buying this place. No one wants it. Vidia is planning to tear it down and sell the land on its own.” More tears begin to cover her face. This place grew to be extremely close to Ámbar’s heart. After everything that happened with Sharon, the only constant in her life was the Jam and Roller. Being able to skate help relieve her from her anxieties and at least have one moment to be alone with the world. When she got offered the position to be manager, she couldn’t be more thrilled. Putting her heart and soul into setting up events for the gang and making sure everything was in place helped her feel more in control with her life. She was able to calm down the mess that surrounded her and pick up the pieces one by one. Hearing the official news coming from their lawyers was earth shattering for her, it was too surreal.

Simón didn’t know what to do in this moment. He ‘can’ say things will get better, but he doesn’t want to give her false hope, doesn’t want to sugarcoat it. He feels that saying an advice in this instant would only make things worse so he does what he knows best, he hugs her. A quiet display of showing you’re there for that person, always.

When they hear Pedro enter the cafeteria with Delfi, Ámbar and Simón get up from their chairs and go back to work. Ámbar wipes away all the tears with her sleeve and tries to put more makeup to cover her puffy skin.

After two hours pass by, Luna enters with Nina. “Wow Luna I can’t believe he stood you up,” Nina replies. Simón overhears Nina’s comment and hurries over to Luna’s side. “Is this true? Matteo stood you up?” Luna starts trembling and tries to find the right words to say but nothing comes out of her mouth. “I-I- …... okay how do I explain this. Yes, he left me alone all night till the restaurant closed. When I was sitting on the bench in front waiting for my taxi, he arrived. He tried to explain to me that he lost track of time because Viviana was bothering him on filming more scenes for their music video. Basically, it’s all mess. This whole relationship has turned into a mess. He lied to me by not telling me he was going to be with Viviana. If he had told me, it would’ve been okay, but he didn’t, which is why I’m upset. If you lie to someone about being with another person that means you don’t want them to know, which most of the time indicates you’re hiding a secret.” Luna sighs from her mouthful of words.

“Luna, I don’t want to make it sound worse but you’re right. If he lied to you about being with Viviana, there’s a chance he’s hiding something. There’s no necessity to lie about filming with a coworker…. Unless he has feelings for that coworker. Sorry you have to go through all of this.” Simón hugs Luna and tries to console her. “Amiga, remember these are all assumptions we’re making. We don’t know the full truth so maybe he was keeping everything a secret for a reason. We are still missing parts of the story,” Nina advised. “I don’t think so Nina. I think I should just start moving on and start focusing more on me and you guys of course. Oh, that reminds me. How are those wedding plans going Simón?” Simon widely opens his eyes in shock and covers his mouth with his hand. “No no no nooooooo”

“Que paso Simón? Why are you so upset suddenly?” Luna asked.

“Ámbar and I have been so caught up with issues pertaining to the Jam and Roller that we completely forgot to prepare the wedding and plan everything out.”

Luna lays her hand on Simon’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore because I can help with whatever you guys need.” “Yeah, me too,” Nina tags along.

“Also, what issues do you guys mean when ‘pertaining to the Jam and Roller?’” Luna questions.

“You’ll find out soon, and by soon I mean around…. now.” Simón states while staring at the clock.

Ámbar leaves the office carrying a clipboard and heads to the stage of the cafeteria. “May I get everyone’s attention! I have some disappointing news to say. For a while, Simon and I have constantly tried to negotiate with Vidia, in hopes that this beautiful place stays as it should. Sadly, our wishes were not met and Vidia has officially announced that it will be tearing this place down and selling the land. Sorry to be the bearer of this awful news, I wish I didn’t have to. I wish that the Jam and Roller can stay for generations and generations on. This place has been the spot where many of us have shared experiences together and won a few competitions. It deserves to stay here, but the owners disagree.”

Everyone gasps in astonishment. Some covering their mouths, some leaving it open, some having visible tears coming out. Everyone reacts as if the place was already completely gone and become a deserted land. Eric (Jandino) enters the place. “Hey guys what did I miss?” Everyone’s red puffy faces glance towards him. “Oof tough crowd huh?” Nina is the first to respond and make the situation a little less awkward. “The Jam and Roller is going to be teared down.” Eric stays speechless and just nods in response.

“This can’t be the end of this place. Are we really going to give up so quickly? Vidia tried to sell it and we were able to convince them not to. This time could be the same,” Luna exclaims.

“This time is different though because the investors don’t need this place anymore and no one wants to buy a skating rink since it’s ‘old fashion’ and ‘not modern.’ This place was in the market for months. Simón and I hoped someone would buy it but no one did. The only way for us to even have a chance to keep it is if someone purchased this place,” Ámbar refuted.

“That shouldn’t be so bad. All we have to do is find someone who is rich and has a kind heart,” Luna proudly states. “Luna are you insane? Where we are we going to find a kind, rich person? This isn’t a cartoon where stuff magically appears out of nowhere to help and save us. Yeah, that’s right Mickey, I’m talking about you and your “musketeer named Toodles,” we all know that’s fake.” Jazmin argued in front of her tablet camera.

“You are right... well on the first part. But I have an idea, maybe I can afford it!” Luna confidently states.

Ámbar gently brings Luna’s hopes down again. “I’ve already checked how much I have in the bank from the half you gave and doubled that and it’s still not enough for the place Luna.” Luna pouts, facing the ground. “Oh... well I guess never mind then.”

Delfi comes up with an idea. “Hey what about Matteo? He is rich now from being a star and all.” She then points to the man in sunglasses who had been staring at Luna ever since he arrived. Luna didn’t realize it till now. “If that’s what you guys want, I’ll buy it. How much does it cost?” Ámbar walks to Matteo. “I’m showing you in secret, so you don’t get embarrassed with your net worth not being enough,” Ámbar explained. “Oh please, it can’t be that bad.” Ámbar show’s him the clipboard and points to the bottom. Matteo begins to sweat. “Oh…... um guys I can afford it but then I’ll be broke with no where to live.”

“Great! I guess that means the Jam and Roller is saved then! Yay!” Jazmin yells out. “Jazmin we can’t force Matteo to do such a grand gesture either,” Gaston responds. “And why not?”

“Jazmin are you really asking that question after he said he would be broke?” Gaston added. “Yes, I don’t see the problem.” Gaston shakes his head and covers his eyes with his fingers from annoyance.

“You guys, it’s hopeless,” Ámbar announces and walks away, heading straight to her office.

Nina walks over to Luna’s side. “Why aren’t you so sad Luna? I mean of course I wouldn’t want you to be sad, but I thought the news would be devastating for you since you love this place so much.”

“This place isn’t getting teared down. At least not under my watch. I will find a way to keep this place the way it is. I will just need to do some research,” Luna persists. “Luna you never seize to surprise me. Whatever help you need, I’m right here,” Nina chuckles.

Eric approaches Nina and tries to comfort her. “Yeah, I bet this must be awful news for you guys. I know I wasn’t here long enough but one thing I know for sure is that this place is certainly magical.” Gaston views Eric close with Nina and he immediately rushes over. He places his arm around Nina’s waist. “Your Corazon will really stop going wowow if you keep flirting with my girl!” “Gaston!” Nina is shocked and tries to calm him down from his jealousy burning his own skin.

“Guys I think I’m going to head home. It’s been a rough morning and I barely got any sleep,” Luna waved goodbye to the gang. Gastón gestures over to Matteo letting him know Luna is leaving. Matteo runs over to the parking lot.

“Luna wait, can you give me a second to explain everything.” Matteo calls out to her. “Matteo, you’re the person I least want to talk to right now.”

“Luna I’m sorry. I’m sorry for arriving extremely late and standing you up. I’m sorry for not replying to all your calls and messages. I’m sorry I lied about the video with Viviana. I didn’t tell you though because I was worried you would get upset and think I remotely like the girl,” Matteo confesses.

“Hah so you’ve even noticed that she’s been extremely close and has been flirting with you,” Luna attested.

“What no? It’s not like that at all. You’re just jealous.” Luna turns around and displays a furious expression, this is the moment when Matteo noticed he had chosen the wrong set of words. “Jealous? That’s what you think of me? Maybe you’re just too blinded by fame to realize she’s constantly glued to you. Haven’t you noticed that when she talks to you, she gradually grows closer and closer to you and whenever you two go out she tries to hold your arm and pull you in tight. I’ve seen all the paparazzi videos so I know. Plus, she’s always calling you. She calls you more than your own manager does,” Luna argued.

“Oh please Luna, you’re just being delusional.” Matteo hears his phone ringing. He pulls it out and notices it’s Viviana calling him. “Yet I’m the delusional one, you have just become so full of yourself you can barely even notice what’s actually going on,” Luna walks away. “Wait, Luna please don’t go.” This time she doesn’t listen to him and keeps walking away without a slight turn of her head.

Luna’s Home

Luna enters her room and throws herself in bed. It’s barely Sunday and Luna feels a whole tornado of emotions have taken over her body. She doesn’t feel like doing anything, not even taking off her socks from wearing her shoes or wiping off her light makeup. She grabs her blanket and tries to fall asleep on top of her bed.

After an hour has passed, her mom knocks on her door and gently opens it. She sees her daughter sleeping and tries to lightly pat her. Luna’s eyelashes wiggle and brush against her skin. She slowly wakes up. “I brought you some breakfast, just thought maybe you haven’t eaten and were probably hungry.” Luna happily smiles. “Mom you know me too.” Monica smiles back too and hands her a tray of waffles with strawberries. Ah strawberries. The least she needed was to be reminded of “el chico fresa.” Her smile slowly disappears and turns into a frown.

“Hija, lately I’ve been seeing you all down in the dumps. Always depressed and never wanting to do much other than sleep. Are you okay? This isn’t normally like you,” Monica sincerely concerned, looks at Luna in the eyes.

“Everything just seems to be falling apart. Not just dealing with Matteo and I’s relationship ending but also the Jam and Roller too. Apparently Vidia is planning to tear it down and the only way for us to be able to have the chance to keep the Jam and Roller intact is to purchase it but none of us can afford such a high price.”

Monica nods and tries to conjure up an idea. Eventually one crosses her mind. “Luna, I’m shocked you didn’t think of this earlier, especially since it deals with your favorite hobby in ‘el mundo mundial,’” Monica says.

“What does skating have to do with this?” Luna laughs.

“Competitions. I know there’s some competitions out there in which the grand prize is a sum of money. Why don’t you guys enter one and try to compete.” Luna lets go of her fork and soon becomes energetic. “Mom that is genius!! Thank you thank you thank you!!!” Luna yells out and tightly hugs her mom.

“Well you know what they say, us moms are geniuses,” Monica chuckles. Luna hastily grabs her computer and retrieves to her bed. She opens up the laptop and begins typing and searching through. “Well Luna I guess I shall leave you to it. Glad I was able to help. Love you hija.” Monica kisses Luna’s forehead and leaves. “Love you too mom!”

After searching for hours, Luna is able to find a competition in which the grand prize pays most of the Jam and Roller price tag. When calculating the percentages, Luna notices that what’s left to pay after all the costs are taken up, is affordable for the whole gang. She jumps up and down all around her bedroom with content pouring out of her. The Jam and Roller finally has a chance to stay. Maybe things can even go back to old times when they all skated together.

[miggydiaz]

For the salty ask 1, 4, 5, 6, 9, 10, 14, 16, 20, 22, 23 and 26 for cobra kai pretty please

My answers are so long, so I am putting this under the cut @wonderwolfballoon! Also I just noticed your Daniel icon I SWEAR I’M NOT DRAGGING HIM TO BE MEAN!!!

1. What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?* My biggest IDGI ships for CK are probably Elimetri or Kiaz. I’m not here to yuck other people’s yums or anything, but I do think there is something to the idea that Migueli isn’t popular because it’s a ship predicated on mutual respect for one another. Kiaz has the obvious enemies to lovers vibe and I just generally don’t sail those ships. Elimetri has... its problems, IMO, most especially around the idea that Demetri has to like... save Hawk from himself? Idk. I just like romances that I feel are based on love and mutual respect and not ...tropes.

 I am also not a Lawrusso shipper although I have a lot of those on my dash and you all are great! Again, not yucking yums! Daniel just makes me want to head butt him too much to pair him romantically with anyone 😂 I don’t even want his wife with him. He needs to self reflect~ 

4. Do you have a NoTP in your fandom? Are they a popular OTP?* 

I once saw someone ship Amanda and Anoush and I noped out of that so fucking fast I almost tripped over myself. I’m not sure if they’re popular. I just think some people feel the need to get Amanda out of the way to sail their ship and stuck her with Anoush which... no. Just no. Let Amanda be a messy single queen with a martini hobby, thanks! 

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?* 

Not in CK. I’m lucky because I pretty much stick to my little Migueli bubble and I’m okay with that? Lmao lord knows the Squad on my dash is all about the DISCOURSE™️ so idk if I just don’t feel the need to get sucked into the wider ship wars because we have good healthy debates, but so far, so good. 

6. Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?* 

I never hated it... I just didn’t have many feelings on shipping with this show in general at first. Then I was in the CK tag one day and I saw Migueli fan art. Then I discovered @afurioushawk‘s falconry series and it was all over for me after that! So fandom DID make me love a ship, just not one I hated.

9. Most disliked character(s)? Why? Oh boy. How much time do you have? In some instances, it’s a good thing season 3 happened because otherwise, this would be a multi-page essay on the problems with race and class privilege as it pertains to Sam LaRusso and just some... generally not nice comments about Demetri that I’m conflicted about because I’m not sure if the writers are intentionally trying to write him a specific way and it’s just not translating to me or what. But season 3 revamped both of their images with me a lot. I’m way more flexible in terms of Demetri, but lmao I was the number one Sam LaRusso hater for a minute there (or maybe number 2, I can think of at least 1 other person who was in that boat with me back in like... August/September, but I won’t call them out because I don’t want them to get hate...) However, I have grown a bit in my opinions of Sam, and even though I still think she’s responsible  for a lot of shit she NEVER gets held accountable for, I also think that’s a reflection of the adults around her too, and this includes my otherwise unproblematic queen, Amanda.

But honestly, my most hated character (other than the obvious villain that is Kreese) is Daniel. No matter how handsome Ralph Macchio looks in cable-knits, because Daniel has always been a sanctimonious, shit starting drama king and I say that about KK Daniel too. I’m not saying Daniel was the ~true villain~ or anything, or that Johnny was innocent -- I can only drink so much Red and Yellow Kool-Aid -- but Daniel’s always been annoying to me as a protagonist, and turning him into a smarmy wealthy car salesman who is also a class traitor did not do him any favors in my book. I will say, I also like Daniel more in season 3 than I have in previous season, but since he is the adult, I will be mad at him longer than I will be at the kids, ya feel?

10. Most disliked arc? Why?

 Johnny’s entire season 3 storyline. The sheer level of REGRESSION at every turn drives me bonkers. It’s like watching him go through all of the stumbling blocks of season 1 all over again, but without the “he’s learning! He’s going to make mistakes!” free pass that I was willing to give him the first time around. He regularly jeopardizes Miguel’s recovery and it’s played for laughs. He fucks up on every level with Robby. He spends most of his time running away when things get hard or too real. He drops the ball completely with Hawk, and like, not to put too fine a point on it, but a lot of Hawk’s issues are because Johnny put Hawk on this ‘flip the script and be a badass’ path and then offered him no guidance for how to walk that path and instead left him in the hands of Kreese. And then he has the nerve to go to Hawk and basically be like “I made you what you are!” lmao yeah Johnny, you sure did, that’s why he’s breaking peoples arms, hoss. And then all of the nonsense with Ali and Carmen, like... if you were planning on teasing KK fans with Ali and him getting back together, why write her as married in the first place? Why even tease the idea of Carmen and Johnny until after you were sure what you were going to do with Ali as a character? Instead, they do what they did in season 3 and it makes him look like a colossal jerk. So yeah. Literally every choice they made with Johnny this season, I hated.

14. Unpopular opinion about your fandom? People who hate Tory are not valid, sorry not sorry.

16. If you could change anything in the show, what would you change? I would have kept Miguel entirely out of Tory and Sam’s beef. Or at least not directly inserted him into it like he was with the kiss. I know the writers thought it was necessary to push Tory to the point of inciting a fight at school, but I am just so exhausted over girls being unable to fight about anything but boys. Also I would bring Aisha back.

20. What is the purest ship in the fandom? 

I am probably biased, but I still maintain it’s Migueli. Look, Miguel stood up to Kyler for Eli and Demetri both. Hawk joined CK because he saw what it could do for some skinny nerd who was getting his ass kicked. And he took to CK, really took to it! Even flourished before he started getting mixed messages. And he and Miguel were pretty much inseparable after that. They coordinated their wardrobes ffs. Hawk dubbed him El Serpiente and no one else calls him that — it’s Hawk’s nickname for him. Miguel confides in Hawk only secondary to Johnny, who is like a father to him. The entire Coyote Creek exchange shows they can fight and disagree but... well, to use the cliche, they don’t go to bed angry, you know? They’re square the very next day. Hawk is the first person at Miguel’s side when he gets kicked over the balcony and the LOOK he gives the second floor where Robby is? That boy is out for blood immediately to avenge Miguel. So much of his s3 behavior is fueled by that need for vengeance because MD is wholly responsible for what happened to Miguel. And Miguel is so confused and betrayed by Hawk’s shift in behavior, and yet still holds out hope that Hawk will see through Kreese’s BS and come with him to The Dojo I Refuse to Name. And when Hawk does make that deflection finally, he shows up at MD with Miguel. There’s so much more that I know I’m missing but whether someone ships them or not, that is a tried and true love and respect for one another, a willingness to fight for and defend one another that you don’t often see in TV friendships... or even in most tv relationships. And I just think that’s the best ❤️

22. Popular character you hate?

 Daniel, hands down. I mean... I don’t even necessarily hate Daniel, you know? I just think it’s really, pardon the pun, rich that a guy of immense wealth and privilege can’t get a therapist or turn to his far too patient wife for help with his existential crisis over his high school bully opening up a karate dojo to make some money and help a kid who is getting the crap kicked out of him. I get that Daniel’s narrative is necessary for the rivalry, but it does nothing to make him sympathetic as a character.

23. Unpopular character you love?

 Tory, definitely! Everyone hates her and then there’s me and the Squad over here banging away on our Coors Banquet cans yelling TORY RIGHTS! Seriously she catches so much flack for a teenage girl who is... the sole income provider for her family? At 17? While caring for a sick mom and a little brother? And fending off a creepy landlord? Tory has it so rough and then she meets a cool girl at her dojo who asks her to hang out at some fancy ass country club which is probably the nicest place Tory has ever been in, and then she gets talked down to and accused of being a thief and has another girl lay hands on her, only to find out that same girl is her new boyfriend’s ex and... ugh. I HATE that Tory gets shit all over when Tory and Sam wouldn’t even have beef if Sam had apologized to Tory as she SHOULD have. Tory isn’t innocent, but damn, I’d be pressed too.

 My other unpopular character I love? Nathaniel. Seriously that kid is THE best. He’s a literal child but is out there like I WILL FUCK YOU UP, even though he’s MD. Honestly, his Cobra Kai energy is so ferocious I won’t be surprised if he moves back to CK eventually. Anyway, I love him.


26. Most shippable character?

 Miguel, hands down. It’s because he’s so affable and sweet overall. And because his hair is so fluffy and pettable that no one can resist touching it. I like to imagine that one day he and Hawk are talking about their hair and Hawk makes a joke about how Miguel’s mane is getting so long that it’s going to be bigger than his own, and then he reaches out to ruffle it and internally has a bisexual meltdown because oh no IT’S SO SOFT AND NICE. But uh... anyway, yes. Definitely Miguel.

[redhawtriot]

Baby Boom (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I felt as though since this story had such a specific narrative (especially delving into the harsh world of modeling and the effects of discrimination) that it would reach out to a very specific niche of reader.

I was actually astonished by loud support this fic has obtained so for, so thank you so much! I cannot stress enough how much that means to me. 

HnM 💕

Tag-list: @steggy4ever​ @library-trash​ @watevermelon​ @glimmadora-ble​ @persephones24​ @dragonempress123​ @your-pri-ncess @broken-from-fandoms​ @hot-pocket01​ @tsukineho​

Month 1, Month 3

--Month 2--

No.

You looked at the stick of plastic in your hand with wide eyes as your mouth stuttered into a slack jaw—your breaths hardly making their way in and out of your lungs evenly.

You squeezed your eyes shut so hard that you saw white spots underneath your lids before you snapped them back open again, internally praying that you would wake up form whatever nightmare you were having.

However, you couldn’t blink away the big, fat smiley face that stared back up at you from the piece of purple and white plastic that sealed your fate.

No. No. No!

The sudden urge to puke came back with a vengeance and you threw yourself to the toilet, slamming your knees to the ground in the process. As your stomach lurched up into your chest, you couldn’t tell whether the tears forming in your eyes were from the harshness of the motion or something else entirely.

“Gah!” you loudly choked out as you pulled away from the mess in the toilet. 

Once the nausea became slightly less debilitating you leaned back against your bathtub, throwing your head up as you groaned to the ceiling, “No, no, no, nooo…” you softly sobbed. You tried your best to keep from bawling so you didn’t find yourself with your head back in the bowl, but you couldn’t help the stream of hot tears that spilled from your eyes as you stared at the vent in the ceiling.

How could this happen? How could you be… pr...

A sudden stirring in your gut made you swallow hard as you tried to keep your stomach out of your throat.

Don’t be an idiot, Y/N. You took sex education in high school. You put the condom on the banana and were scolded with constant threats of STDs and the fires of Hell like everybody else. So yeah. You know how it happened.

You sighed as you thought back to all the guys you had slept with recently-- which was luckily not too many within the past few months, and only one since your last period.

Fuck, you didn’t even remember what the damn fathe-- guy looked like.

Well, excluding his rippling muscles.

You threw your head into your hands as the uncanny image of a body builder newborn infiltrated your mind. Well, that didn’t fucking help at all. Grabbing your hair tightly as you stared at the tile between your legs, you cursed yourself, “You dumbass! How could you be so goddamn stupid!? Stupid, stupid, stupid!” you repeatedly knocked against your skull.

You reached into the recesses of your memory for any information you might have about the guy. Where was his apartment again...? On the other side of town somewhere right… Near Club 52? God, you didn’t even fucking know! and what did it matter anyway, huh? What were you gonna do? Storm up to his place, pregnancy tests a-blazin’, and tell the complete stranger that you were carrying his kid?!

With a weak and tired moan, you lifted yourself off of your bathroom floor and went to the sink to rinse your bile infested mouth out and wash the salty tears off of your cheeks.

But not before you got a good look at yourself in the mirror.

Swollen eyes.

Red nose.

Drying, teary snot pooling on the rim of your upper lip.

“You look like shit,” you harshly reprimanded yourself before turning the sink on and sticking your face into the cool water. Your hands blindly reached around your counter until you finally grabbed a nearby hand towel to bring to your face. As you patted your cheeks dry, your eyes wandered to the counter where three other positive pregnancy tests that you had taken earlier that morning resided.

The trio all sported a similar smug smile as they looked up to you as if to say ‘we told you so.’

The little shits.

“Shut up.” You quickly grabbed all four tests and with a hint of bitterness chucked them into a nearby trash bin before making your way to your bedroom across the hall.

Plopping down onto your screeching mattress, you took your phone out:

Boss Lady

[2:50 pm]

Hey, brat. I hope you’re doing better.

Don’t forget that we have that runway fitting next week. And the test shots. And the international scouting event.

Think. Thin.

No carbs. No red meats.

NO ALCOHOL!!!

Fucking no alcohol for nine whole months. You attempted to scoff at this, but what came out could have probably been mistaken for the last sounds of a dying animal.

Kimi:

[3:31 pm]

Hope you made it home safe last night!

As you read this text, a piece of you wished that maybe you hadn't made it home safe last night... Your brain briefly wandered into the dark territories of ‘what if’s’ as you imagined falling in front of the train at the subway, walking past a drug deal gone wrong, hell-- drowning on the water you took with your Pepto Bismol. You quickly brushed these thoughts away as you continued looking through your phone, 

Boss Lady

[4:45 pm]

Oh, also Deku just asked for a meeting with you personally.

You’re going of course. Glad you got his attention. Good girl.

Tomorrow.  5:00pm. El Vino’s downtown. (EAT LIGHTLY!)

Inches! Inches! Inches!

You slammed your phone down onto your mattress as you loudly sighed.

Inches. Your entire livelihood depended on your damn inches and now there was no way you could maintain the “golden ratio.” The thought made your blood churn.

Modeling… was all that you had. You didn’t have any other fucking talents—no quirk to depend on-- so when would your growing stomach steal your life away?

When do people even start ‘showing’? 

You haven’t come across many pregnant women, but all of the ones you have seen either looked like normal people or like freaking beach balls. For some reason your brain couldn’t conjure an intermediate.

Did they just blow up out of nowhere? If so, then when? How long could you pull a ruse off before your growing organ snitched on you? 5 months? 6 months? Next fucking week?

You realized then that you knew next to jack squat about pregnancy.

Or damn kids for that matter.

Okay so... abortion? For some reason, even just the thought of that word made an icky taste surge in your mouth—or maybe it was the leftover vomit, who knows?

To be honest, you had never really thought much on abortion before—it was one of the many topics filed into your brain under ‘that does not and will not pertain to me, so why the fuck should I care?’ Filtered out and forgotten, your feelings on abortion had yet to be developed.

Until now.

After a few beats, you opened your phone back up and began to dial Kimi, fearing that you might soon explode with the brunt of knowledge that weighed heavily upon your shoulders.

You paused.

Had you ever actually talked to her about anything that wasn’t exclusively work related? In the past two years of knowing her, have you ever actually learned anything about her, and she about you? Very suddenly, you were slapped in the face by a crude fact: Kimi was just a work-friend.

That was fucking fine and dandy up until now. You pretty much either worked, or drank, or showed up to work drunk. But now…

Shit.

Who the hell else could you call? You barely had any friends, and you hadn’t talked to your family in what felt like ages. Who was there for situations like this? If half of your life was working, and half of your life was drinking, and your work friends were a no go… what about your drinking friends? Your mind briefly fled to the stashes of your best buddies-- vodka and tequila-- that you kept in your kitchen.

But not even they could save you now.

Fuck you really were alone.

That night, you found yourself constantly flipping your pillow to find a new dry spot to assault with fresh tears. You hadn’t cried so much since you were a kid. Wait-- come to think of it, you couldn’t even remember the last time you had cried at all.

So, was it hormones? Pregnancy hormones?

The surreal thought made your tears fly down your face even more furiously.

The next evening there was practically no trace or evidence of your mental breakdown from the night before as you strolled up to El Vino’s. It was honestly kind of frightening how quickly you had managed to pull yourself together before this little meeting—but mostly, it was empowering.

Okay, Y/N. You fucking got this. Hormones or not, you were still a baddie to your very core.

Deku was easy enough to spot in the little Mediterranean themed restaurant—with the green-ass hair and all. You strolled up to the table with the warmest smile that you could muster, “Mr. Deku,” you quickly approached his table and gave a slight bow.  

“H-Hey!” You seemed to startle him with your sudden appearance. He jumped a bit in his seat and awkwardly shifted as you made your way to your own chair. His face was a bit red as you maintained your eyes on his shying expression. 

“Look, before you say anything. I just want to say sorry,” his shocked eyes suddenly snapped back up to yours as you continued, “I had no idea that the event was yours and I probably ruined the rest of the night for you. If you want me off the brand deal, then I completely understand, just... don’t blame Ainu’s agency.”

His mouth fumbled over itself for a moment, causing you to quirk an unsure eyebrow before he could finally speak up, “No t-that’s not what I am here for at all, Miss L/N.”

“Call me Y/N. please,” your smirk was a little less sure than usual and you prayed that he couldn’t detect how off he had thrown you. This was going much different than you had expected it to. For one, he wasn’t trying to ‘put you in your place for disrespecting him’ or bargain  sex ‘as an apology’ like most power hungry men in his position would.

“Okay, M-miss Y/N,” the blush that adorned his cheeks confused you even further and you felt the space between your eyebrows involuntarily tighten. That was another thing… He didn’t seem like a typical man in a position of power. He was… soft... you didn’t know how else to explain it other than unusual for a man of his size and stature.

“I actually wanted to apologize to you,” he spoke up once more and you were completely lost by then. You could only blink as he continued to speak, “You really got me thinking about things the other night-- you were totally right. The brand of my sneakers did lose its true meaning. I really meant to have it be a symbol for kids growing up without a quirk to enjoy—to give them hope, but it turned into more of an endorsement to myself. The whole thing. It was wrong. That’s why I have decided to give 100% of my personal Red Sneakers profits to establishing my Quirkless Youth Initiative,”

You looked around for any hidden cameras—any hidden agenda behind his motives before looking back to him with a stiff expression. You had to physically keep your face from scrunching, “And just how are you going to make a living out of a mindset like that?” you dared to call his bluff.

“It’s just gonna have to work. It’s what my mentor would have done—given 100%. Beyond actually.”

Holy shit. This man was being serious. ‘100% and beyond’ serious, to be exact. Your face scrunched up once more, “Why do you care so much anyway?” you cut back on your tone as you noticed his eyes widen a bit at your accusatory voice, “Not to be rude, but… what’s a strong hero like you doing caring about us quirkless?”

He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment or two. Contemplating on whether or not he was going to lie, you noticed, “I… I…  didn’t have a quirk until much later in life. I was 14. Growing up, I always wanted to be a hero, and I just wish that I had someone back then believe in me. I want to be the one that tells kid’s—with a smile-- that they can do it. That they have at least one person who believes in them.”

His name-- Deku-- it meant worthless. The puzzle pieces were finally coming together and things began to make sense. It was a name that either himself or others used to describe him when he was growing up probably, and the man had taken it and spun it around to make it his own. Even you had to admit--

“That’s pretty damn impressive,” you couldn’t help the curl that tugged into the corners of your lips as Deku bashfully looked away from you,

“It’s nothing, really!” he tried to deflect. You gave a small laugh before smoothly bringing up the glass of wine in front of you to your lips. As soon as the liquid rushed in your mouth, your eyes flew wide open with realization,

Shit! What the fuck were you doing?

You immediately spit the alcohol back into your cup and snapped your eyes back to Deku who had, thankfully, been too caught up in his own embarrassment to be paying attention to you. You gave a sigh of relief and sat the wine glass as far away from you as inconspicuously possible. 

“So,” you leaned into the table a bit to get his eyes back on you, “Tell me about this Quirkless Youth Initiative,” you smiled. 

From that point on, you and Deku actually found talking to each other relatively easy—okay, extremely easy. In fact, you stayed past the point of dinner and ended up talking at your table hours after the bill had been paid.

You talked about everything and nothing altogether and didn’t know just when to end the conversation. You lowered your borders for some reason. Well-- you knew the reason. It was because you had been dying to talk to someone since you found out that you were the ‘p-word.’

 He ended up walking you home. Past that, for the next two weeks you guys pretty much saw each other every other day or two and talked fairly regularly. Things became habitual.

In fact.

As you stood in the beaming light of the wardrobe, getting your makeup done, you found yourself stealing little glances here and there to your phone to text with your new friend, Deku. Every buzz of your phone left you with a giddy sense of excitement.

One of the models sharing the gigantic mirror with you quickly took notice of your demeanor, “What are you smiling at, Y/N?”

“She’s texting someone,” another spoke up as your friend/babysitter, Kimi strolled up next to you,

“What?! Y/N L/N texting someone back? Have we entered the Twilight Zone??” she joked. You only responded with poking your tongue out at her before your phone buzzed again, 

Deku:

[1:00 pm]

Good Luck on your runway thing today!

You:

More like run away thing🏃‍♀️💨

Deku:

I could help? Bring comfort snacks?

You:

Most of us haven’t eaten a full meal in days BB

You would literally be stampeded by women

Wait that sounded too good🤔

You will literally be stampeded by hungry women***

Deku:

You haven’t been eating?!

Since when?!

You:

That’s not what I said. 

Just pre-show prep to keep the waists snatched and the legends skinny💁‍♀️

Deku:

Sorry I don’t know how your job really works.

I’ll come over again tonight after your show and bring dinner!

If that’s okay. Sorry didn’t mean to sound pushy.

“Didn’t you hear? Her and Deku really hit it off on their date,”  Your attention was instantly snapped away from your phone screen.

You gave an ugly snort, “It wasn’t a date.” And you certainly weren’t lying. The friendly atmosphere between you and Izuku felt comfortable as best—nothing intimate about it.

You wouldn't have it any other way. It felt as though he was placed in your life to perfectly fill the holes in your boat just before you started sinking.

“Girl your phone is blowing up!” a co-worker exclaimed, loudly.

Kimi laughed as she pinched your cheeks, “Look at that smile on her face”

All of the commotion gathered the attention of Boss Lady, who was currently storming up to you with the ‘phone box’ (or phone cemetery as some of you liked to call it) in her hand. She liked to have this on her especially in big events like runways or show casings because some of the girls—you were guilty as charged—spent quite a bit of time on their phones behind the scenes, “Phone. Bin. Now.”

Usually, you would put up some type of argument or give a quick-witted remark, but this time around you only rushed to send one final text in before you threw your cellphone into the crate.

You:

[1:33pm]

I should get off at like 11 see you then broccoli boy🥦🤪

Kimi looked terrified as though she was the one who had just incurred Ainu’s wrath, “Still smiling, huh...?” 

You hadn’t even notice that you had been.

Talking to Deku really did make you happy when you needed it. Just like he spun ‘deku’ around and made it make sense, he had spun your life around and did the same. He made you feel like life was normal—whatever the hell that was. You’d never really been classified as normal anyway, but you had some impression that this resembled what it must feel like.

For a fleeting moment you think that maybe you should just sleep with Deku and pass this pregnancy off as his since you had yet to tell him-- or anyone-- about it. 

But the better half of you instantly slaps this thought out through your ears.

Hello? Welcome to psycho bitch incorporated. Seriously. What the fuck was wrong with you?

Damn, you had been separated from your phone (and Deku) for exactly 23 seconds and you were already outta your cot-damn mind. You get one friend and suddenly you don’t know how to act. 

You needed to somehow find “blond muscle man” and let him know what was up. Fuck, how were you supposed to do that when you didn’t even know his name?

The runway that night went pretty much how every single other runway went, except this time-- you opted not to attend any of the after parties. Instead, you went home and had Deku over, who delivered on his promise with sushi. 

You could smell the sushi as soon as he walked through the door and your mouth instantly watered. He really was god sent. 

The two of you settled quickly in your apartment, deciding to risk it all and eat on your living room couch to watch TV; however, you quickly noticed that the TV wasn’t the only thing that Izuku was watching. As soon as you turned to raise an eyebrow on him he feebly attempted to avert his gaze, but you caught him anyways, “What? You better stop sizing me up unless you wanna fight, Deku,” you sang as you popped another sushi roll into your mouth.

“W-what sizing you up?!”

You cackled at the sudden redness of his face, “I’m just joking. We both know I’d probably kick your ass!”

“You think so?” he actually sounded a bit nervous in his tone, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Oh, I know so,” you shrugged with a growing smirk, “Anyway. What are you staring so hard at me for?”

The air became very still around the two of you as he looked down to think. This was something that became pretty expectant of him these past few week-- a funny little habit.

“It’s just… we’ve been hanging out a lot the past few weeks and I never really noticed it—your… dieting,” he seemed to fall into that last word a bit as if it wasn’t exactly the word that he had wanted to use. 

You knew that he meant to say ‘starving yourself’ but was too reserved for that level of bluntness. That was okay with you. You weren't particularly ready to open that can of worms, “Damn, and here I was thinkin’ I was looking pretty damn good,” you joked as the both of you began cleaning up your food mess.  

“No. That’s not what I meant I—”

“Joking! I’m just joking with you, Big D,” you found yourself using this nickname for him whenever you wanted to see his face fall into it’s deepest shades of red. It worked every single time,

“I have just been at this for a long time—modeling for Ainu’s agency. Since I was 15 actually,” you shook your head a little at the surge of nostalgia that wanted to bubble up your back. You clutched a nearby pillow and hugged it to your chest, “She scouted me at a mall food court. She changed my entire life—for the better of course. She is practically my mom... I owe her a lot,” you found yourself giving into the nostalgia a bit-- a small, fond smile tugging at your lips. You looked up after a few beats of silence filled the air and was met with Deku’s admiring stare, “What? You nerd!” you exclaimed with a giggle, chucking the pillow at him. 

“It’s nothing. I just like hearing about you. I feel like I have been doing a lot of talking about me since we have been hanging out.”

Yeah, he was a Cancer zodiac for sure. You pretty much knew his entire life’s story after only the first week of knowing him, “Are you kidding me?! Your life is straight out of a comic book, BB! I love hearing about it!” You began talking to him from out of the kitchen as you put your leftovers in the fridge,

“You went up against the League of Villains, the Vanguard Action Front and The Paranormal Liberation Front as a freshman?? You powered up from a quirkless crybaby! (Hey!) to an amazing, uprising, super considerate, overpowered crybaby on his way to number one! Your U.A. friends all seem like comic book characters, too. I love them already from what you tell me,” you closed the fridge, revealing his shocked expression.

“Really?” You nodded, igniting a spark in his eyes, “Well, I am actually having a little get together at my place for my friends if you wanna stop by.”

“Yeah sure. As long as my favorite character, Kaminari, is there,” Izuku seemed shocked and slightly offended by your choice in favorite, so you clarified, “He sounded really cool and all with his ‘chatty zappy’ thing going on,” you suddenly rolled your eyes as a bad taste emerged in your mouth, “Kacchan sounds like a little bitch baby though, no offense.”

“Y/N!”

“What?! Kacchan can ‘Kach’ these ‘hans’! Oh come on. Not even a pity laugh? A little one?” You apparently thought you were a lot funnier than Izuku did. 

“I think the two of you might actually get along. You’re very similar now that I think about it,” he trailed off on his last part, seemingly talking to himself as he grabbed his chin. 

You almost felt offended by his comparison, “Fuck that. Oppisites attract, Similars repel. Besides. Why would I wanna be friends with a little bitch baby that bullies and pisses on quirkless people?”

“Well, when you meet him next week you might like him…”

You clicked your tongue, “So now I am obligated to come, huh?” you smirked.

“N-no well that’s not what I meant but I would appreciate if you—”

You were only half paying attention to his freak out as the abrupt craving for orange juice infiltrated your mind and placed itself on the forefront of your thoughts, “Deku. I am joking!” you absentmindedly reminded him as you scoured your pantries for a wine glass. You had taken to drinking out of these instead of regular cups to at least maintain a semblance of your old self. 

Izuku’s eyes widened at the sight of your collection of wines and alcohols in one of your cupboards. You smirked at him-- throwing him  look that said ‘you ain’t seen nothin yet’ as you opened your freezer to reveal the insane hoard of alcohol you had stored.

His jaw practically dropped to the floor at the sight, “Holy woah, you have an entire liquor store in here!”

“Saving for a rainy day,” you almost immediately realized the error of your words as Izuku motions to one of the windows near you. The two of you sat in a beat of silence as the pitter-patter of rainfall splattered against the glass pane.

“It’s raining today,” he grinned excitedly. 

“No... I cant,” the way that the words fell out sounded about as convincing as a disguise with groucho glasses. You could really go for a drink right about now.

He looked to you a bit sadly, if not disappointed, “Y/N if this is about your diet… I am just saying, I don’t think one day will hurt too much.”

“No, I really shouldn't.” Understatement of the century. 

Izuku grabbed two glasses out of your cupboard with a soft smile gracing his features, “We’ll pour you just a little bit in case you change your mind—”

Maybe one glass wouldn't hurt... No. NO! God, you knew he meant well, but he is really fucking making this hard for you!! “I cant, I’m pregnant!!” you suddenly yelled. He immediately froze, 

“Wha...?”

“I’m pregnant...”

“Oh... Uhhh congratulations,” the most unconvincing thing to have ever come out of his mouth probably, “Who…”

“I don’t know,” the look of utter horror on his face had you instantly backtracking your answer, “Well—let me rephrase that. I do know who it is, but I don’t know his name. It was a umm.. ‘Wam. Bam. Thank you ma’am’ type deal.” Your face began burning as hot blood rushed into your cheeks. You literally couldn't have phrased that worse if you tried. What the hell was wrong with you? 

“You don’t look pregnant...” the horror on his face now registered into your mind as pure shock. 

“I sure as hell would hope not. I am like a month-ish along—I think.”

“You haven’t been to the doctor?”

“Uhh no...” He was right, you didn't even look pregnant. There was no way in hell that you needed to go to the doctor yet. Right?

“W-wait! Y/N the night we met! You were drinking alcohol!”

“So? I am probably only like a few weeks pregnant and I drank like two glasses. I am sure it didn’t do anything…?”

“Are you really sure? How can you know!? You have to go see a doctor!” he looked terrified. It was as if he suddenly was the embodiment every stressed emotion that you had been shoving away from you these past few weeks and the sight scared you. 

“You’re freaking me out, Deku.”

He instantly froze, “S-sorry,” he looked down to his shoes. Maybe you just might let him pour those drinks after all. He looked like he could use both of them right about now...

The next week dragged on for what felt like eons, as Izuku seemed to cautiously dance around the topic of your “preexisting condition.” It was quite obvious that every time the topic came up, a cloud of discomfort would come and sit on his shoulders; however, the man still made it a point to urge the fact that you needed to set up a doctor’s appointment.

Eventually, you caved in and scheduled for one at a local clinic, but they couldn't get you in for a few weeks anyway-- the joint was at maximum capacity, you guessed?  Apparently, there were more pregnant bitches waddling around than you thought.

Still, Deku urged you to read up and research some things prior to your appointment so that you could ask the doctor any questions that might pop up. It seemed like he was almost way too into this-- taking notes in a composition notepad that he dubbed “Baby Notes Vol 1″ and even mentioning coming along with you to your clinic visit.

It made things extremely real. 

Your little safe space with Deku had effectively been conquered and subjugated by the little parasite that took residence in your body. You shook your shoulders with a sigh as you neared Deku’s door for the party. 

*KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK* 

When the door opened you couldn't help the way that your eyebrows flew up in surprise at the sight of a woman opening the door. Uhh... did you go to the wrong house?

The brown haired girl in front of you looked just as surprised as you-- if not even more so. 

Okay, you definitely went to the wrong house.

The sudden sound of Izuku’s voice coming deep from withing the apartment led you to breath easy. You deflated a little bit as you relaxed. You wouldn't have to make a mad dash in a lagged game of ‘ding dong ditch’ after all,  “Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you.”

A series of emotions flashed across her expression at your greeting: shocked, nervous, then... disappointed? “Y/N! I’ve heard... so so much about you!” the smile that stretched across her lips seemed almost painful, “I’m Ochako Uraraka! I... love your hair!” she threw out the last part like a rabbit would throw steak to wolves. 

“Thank’s...” you felt fucking awkward and she still hasn’t let you into the apartment, “I’ll make sure to thank the stylist and the bottle of dye she used.”

“That’s not your real hair color? It looks so healthy though!” she seemed heartbroken as she used a pitying tone and you could gauge that the pity was not for yourself. 

“Nah. My agency pretty much determines what hairstyles I wear...”  You made eye contact with Deku inside of the house as he made his way to the door... Thank god! you were saved from that terribly awkward interaction.

“Agency? Hero agency?”

“Modeling, actually. I’m not that badass,” you smirked before walking into the party.

Her figure deflated as if to say, ‘of fucking course’, “Oh. That’s cool!” You didn’t see much of Uraraka after that 

Meanwhile, Bakugou was just a tick away from being angry enough to kill. His roommates had all three convinced him to go to this get together over Deku’s house and they weren't even going to be there on time! 

He had honestly never been to a party with these losers without at least Shitty Hair being with him, so he wasn’t exactly sure how it would pan out and that really bothered him. He wasn’t exactly social at these events, but at least the three stooges kept him somewhat entertained (he would never admit this aloud).

What could those other losers possible do to entertain him?

“Whyyyyyyy?” he heard crying as he neared Deku’s home. His face scrunched in on itself even further than usual as he approached the whining noise. He scoffed at the inebriated mess in front of him,

“What the hell are you doing, round face?”

Uraraka, who was leaning against the edge of Izuku’s front patio looked up, causing Bakugou to deeply grimace at the germy snot that trailed down her red face, “Deku’s new girlfriend sure is cool. He deserves someone like her, right? She’s perfect!” Bakugou couldn't help the way that his face shriveled into itself in disgust. 

It wasn't too late. He could still turn around and go the fuck home and no one would even know he was here. Well, save for bubble cheeks here, but she probably wouldn't even remember to be honest. 

But as soon as Bakugou turned back around to make his escape Uraraka spoke up again, “She’s a model. They met at the Red Sneakers Event apparently,” Of course this piqued the man’s interest. There were only a few models branding the event and he just so happened to be searching for one of them. Uraraka continued with her drooling of words as Bakugou brushed past her and made his way into the house-- not bothering to knock,

“You know I am the one who gave him that idea in the first place? It’s kinda like. I set him up with his future wife!” she drunkenly cried to no one in particular as Bakugou stormed away.

He passed Iida on his way in, “Go get round face and shut her drunk ass up-- she’s outside,” he didn't bother on stopping to further explain before walking back to the commotion of the party.

 As soon as he entered the packed room, his eyes landed on you. It was like the Red Sneakers Event all over again. You were simply glowing-- hard to miss-- especially with the crowd of his old classmates hovering around you like some damn flies on shit-- especially Deku. He was way too close to you-- the rat bastard. 

“Oooh! You’ve been to Milan! That’s so cool, girl! So you must get to sight-see like a lot!”

The way that your shoulders leaned and swayed as you talked sent flutters into Bakugou’s heart. Fucking gross. He watched you speak very intently-- searching for the magic you had used to bewitch him, “Actually I was working a lot when I was there, so I really only got to see the sets and runways,” you made fleeting eye contact with him from across the room, furrowing your eye brows a bit at his stare before breaking the gaze. 

“Do you get to keep the outfits after the shoots?!”

“Pfft. Hell no! This loser still hasn’t sent me a pair of his red shoes. What happened to helping the quirkless, huh, broccoli boi?” The most primal urge of jealousy that Bakugou had ever felt sprinted through his body as you leaned over to playfully tap that shitty Deku in the arm. The feeling was so intense that he hadn’t even registered what you had said fully. 

“You’re quirkless?” Racoon Eyes inquired, snapping Bakugou out of his feral trance. His face fell a bit as he dutifully awaited your answer. 

“Yeah. It’s whatever,” you shrugged.

“The competition must be so difficult!” Momo spoke up as she placed and apologetic hand to her chest. The gesture made you tense up a bit, but you reminded yourself that she probably didn't mean it in a belittling way as she continued,  “I’ve been to a few magazine shoots myself and it is always girls with flashy quirks who end up in front and center!”

“Well, I compete well, I guess,” you knew that hero hero modeling and your fashion modelling were two completely different worlds. Designers saw you guys mostly as clothing racks and mannequins for their clothes, so usually they wanted their models to be as mundane as possible-- not to distract from their fabric art. So basically the perfect job for someone like you, “it’s no big deal. I get by like everybody else.”

“You just live your life like normal!”

“Awhhhh. Y/N. You’re an inspiration!”

Suddenly you felt extremely tired. You couldn't find the energy within  yourself to filter out and soften your next response, “Glad I could inspire you just by breathing I guess.” you gave the girls a slight smile as you shrugged, but the undertone of your comment had not gone unnoticed-- especially by Bakugou who found himself stifling a proud smirk.

You once again made eye contact with him in this moment-- this time not daring to backtrack your gaze until he did-- a warning sign to back he hell off with that staring shit.

As the night progressed you found yourself becoming more and more tired. The debilitating sense of sudden fatigue actually felt like it had taken over even your bones at this point as the aching structures weighed heavily inside of you skin. You decided after about an hour that you were gonna make an early trip back home.

“What, why!?” Deku scanned your face nervously-- he thought you had been having fun!

“Just really damn tired suddenly.”

“Oh...” he trailed off, but suddenly realized the hidden context of your words. Baby Notes vol 1 page 4 section 3: ‘prenatal fatigue’, “Ohhhhh okay! Right! Well Let me call you a taxi or something.”

“Nahh, I’ll walk,” you waved him off as you made your journey toward small crowds of his friends-- waving them goodbye. Deku followed you in your path around his house, 

“W-what? You can’t be serious! You shouldn’t do that!”

You turned around and threw your hand on his shoulder, causing him to instantly freeze up, “I’ll be fine,” you smirked throwing your hand up to his cheek to gently pat his face. Of course, he was left a shivering, blushing mess. It was a low blow, but, hey, it gave you a good opportunity to escape. 

You felt a wave of relief as soon as you made it a few steps outside of the apartment. You released a heavy sigh as you continued walking away. 

Finally. You internally planned the rest of the night in your head: orange juice, Netflix and sleeeep. You could finally just let yourself relax and--

“HEY!” you jumped out of your skin a little at the sudden loud shout. You whipped around to see that blond spikey-haired dude from Deku’s house attempting to close in on you. 

You rolled your eyes as he neared. Hardly throwing him a glance as he approached you to walk a little behind you, “God. You’re the weirdo that was staring at me all night,” you groaned, hoping he would catch your drift. 

“We need to talk!” 

One of you eyebrows instantly quirked up as your lips curled into a look of disgust. You whipped back around towards him, “Look, I am actually tired as hell, so excuse me for my bluntness, but FUCK OFF!” You only caught a glimpse of his flabbergasted expression before you spun back around to storm down the stairs entering the subway. 

“You really don’t know me?” he sounded pissed. 

That’s when it hit you. 

“Oh! it’s you!” you snapped your fingers at the sudden realization, 

“You’re Kacchan!” the look of disgust that hardened on his face intensified by ten fold when he heard you use that nickname. You continued regardless as you neared the train platform, “The asshole bully who likes to pick on quirkless kids. Yeah, well, I don’t give a damn how great you think you are, buddy. You can really fuck off now!” you spun once more to ditch him; however this time around your ankle twisted from underneath you, causing your body to fall down toward the ledge of the platform where underneath the tracks resided.

Bakugou cried out something like ‘you idiot!’ before grabbing you by the waist and yanking you into him before you could completely fall down the ledge. Everything happened so quickly that you hadn't even realized that you were holding your breath until you gasped heavily into his chest.

With a shocked expression you trailed up his neck to his face until you were met with his vermilion eyes, “Shit…” suddenly a wave of familiarity crashed into you. you breathed deeply, “I-It’s you...”

[lizallanapologist]

The problematic behavior of Tomdaya stans; a thread

Some of you might not be aware of the stalkerish problematic stuff tomdaya stans have done with Tom and Zendaya’s life but it’s gotten to the point where Tom’s own brothers protect with big scrutiny every single female in Tom’s life because they fear they’re going to get bullied or harassed. This is not OK and this has to stop so we’re exposing their toxic behavior. 

This is only to bring awareness and we do not condom any hate or death threats, don’t send hate to tomdaya accounts, either block them or report them but don’t bully them. Many of them might need professional help dealing with the fact that Tom and Z are not together due to the fact that they created an illusion in their heads for a long time but that doesn’t mean some of them aren’t plenty manipulative and love to get away with bullying and harassment. 

If you don’t know, Tom was recently seen with another woman on his instagram, not going to say the name and please don’t try to find out about her, the relevant information is in this post and all of the private information regarding her is being protected for the same reasons. Many stans decided to apply the same treatment to her as they did to Olivia. If you don’t know what happened last year, all information is here. The fact that this kind of bullying and harassment got overlooked is horrifying. 

This specific behavior doesn’t apply to all of the stans but the vast majority is on the same page. 

A big thanks to all the blogs who contributed with information and their writing in this post.

STALKING 

1. Tomdaya stans have made an entire thread/timeline of events in Tom and Zendaya's life that they manipulated so it can be seen as proof of them dating. They stalk every single part of their lives, from paying stalkerish apps to review their instagram activities daily to having a constant GPS to know their exact locations everyday. They ask twitter accs, owners of restaurants/stores, people close to them information about their whereabouts/the things they buy or eat/who they were with, etc.

They order their ‘’interactions’’ with specific dates and they even know information you shouldn’t know about them. 

They pay for apps that helps them stalk their every move. That’s right, they take every like as proof of them being together. 

They hide behind the pretext that they're celebrities and this is what they've signed up for but neither Tom nor Zendaya have signed up for constant daily harassment of their partners in life. 

HARASSMENT OF PARTNERS

Tom was seen last year with a blonde girl called Olivia, everyone speculated that was his girlfriend and that was something everyone should’ve respected since it’s Tom’s life and he’s in control of it, instead, many fans including Tom H. crazy fans and tomdaya stans, decided to stalk and harass Olivia to the point she had to make her account private. They started bullying her by publicly calling her names like ‘’Olive Oil’’, ‘’Ugly old woman’’, ‘’Ugly fake bitch’’ among other names. They continuously compare her with Zendaya and write on her friends and family members’ social media and ask them to tell Olivia nasty things. You really think this is ok? 

Same is happening with the girl Tom was seen with. Tom’s own brothers asked several people to take down and delete the video because they were disrupting her privacy. Many stans didn’t care and started all over again harassing the girl. (I’m not posting images or the identity of this new girl in hopes that this helps maintain a little big of privacy for her.) 

However here are some examples of them harassing Olivia:

’’I saw a troubling post on twitter about this fan dming another fan saying that they’d kill her (Olivia). That they’d find a way. So that “the fans can have him all to ourselves” - source

MANIPULATING THE NARRATIVE

Tomdaya stans and some Tom Holland crazy stans love to harass Tom Holland to the point that they tag family members and friends only because he decided to go out in public with Olivia. They call him cheater, manipulator, a dumbass, made fun of him because Tom is dyslexic calling him an illiterate, mocked him and tried to cancel him in every opportunity given by manipulating everyone into thinking some of these ‘’facts’’ are true. 

Many fans don’t know better and go to social media to frame Tom as a scumbag because many tomdaya stans have convinced the public of this.

This same issue occurs with Zendaya. Her known boyfriend; Jacob Elordi, is frequently called a cheater and is being investigated every five seconds on every social media, candid, interaction ever. Many fans are already calling him cheater, telling everyone Zendaya’s changed her behavior thanks to Jacob and that she needs help. 

Source

BULLYING

The definition of cyberbullying according to Stopbullying.gov:

“Cyberbullying is bullying that takes place over digital devices like cell phones, computers, and tablets. Cyberbullying can occur through SMS, Text, and apps, or online in social media, forums, or gaming where people can view, participate in, or share content. Cyberbullying includes sending, posting, or sharing negative, harmful, false, or mean content about someone else. It can include sharing personal or private information about someone else causing embarrassment or humiliation. Some cyberbullying crosses the line into unlawful or criminal behavior. “

Examples of cyberbullying on Tumblr from good ole Toutdesuite360:

https://toutdesuite360.tumblr.com/post/190572803098/faces-haha-ive-heard-this-has-been-memed-when

Making fun of Jacob Elordi’s wealth… but that isn’t that only thing that the Tomdaya stans have done.

She basically implied that Olivia looked like an elderly lady, and she permitted her followers to humiliate her.

Funny, that a middle aged woman who has never revealed her face on her blog is bullying a young woman.

(She may have deleted the link to save her a** on the post with the Cher pictures, but thankfully @crazypeopleonfandom​ took screenshots of this post; I got most of my photos from them)

The next aren’t pertaining to the ‘innocent’ Toutdesuite360, just some random jerks from Twitter/Instagram. If you have the time, you can read through them.

See the pictures above and below for reference.

Labelling Zendya, Jacob E., Tom, and Olivia as cheaters, when there was no confirmed relationship between Tom and Z, and Jacob broke up with Cari already is plain disrespectful. These are type of claims are considered slander, and I’m surprised that the people who own these accounts haven’t been rightfully sued.

And remember when I talked about the repetition of people tagging Tom and Z’s family for their ‘thoughts’? Why are you tagging Nikki in your post?

Calling Olivia, once again, a vulgar word that shouldn’t be used for any woman.

This person and many other tomdayas are harassing Zendaya and Tom by tagging them repeatedly. Now we know why Tom stopped using Twitter, and why he may be taking breaks from social media.

And, as pointed out in another point on the thread: Tom has dyslexia! I easily ignore the posts that tease him about his lips, but when it comes to his disability, that crosses the line. It is unacceptable to bully someone just because your fantasy relationship doesn’t seem so real now.

Before I finish this point, I just want to remind people that celebrities are humans too. Everyone has feelings, and even if they haven’t seen these posts, it is still harmful to post this kind of information on your account. Fans who are young (or naive) may see these posts, thus making them believe that Tom actually cheated on Z, and that Z is really with Jacob as ‘payback’ to Tom. Bullying is still an ongoing issue, and maybe you should stop harassing/humiliating people on your platform.

DEATH THREATS

Olivia, Tom and his family, friends, Zendaya, Jacob Elordi, etc. They were sent death threats as a result of a fictional ship. This is truly upsetting and we’ve shown some proof of that above and it’s truly sickening how many of them really want to attack Olivia in public only because of a few photographs. 

DEBUNKING EVIDENCE

While we don’t know anything for sure, we need to trust and respect what Tom and Zendaya have said several times: they were never together and they were just friends. This is a topic that makes them feel uncomfortable and tomdaya stans decide to twist their words every time they want to clarify the situation, saying they’re hiding their relationship and that they’ve been hiding it for over 3 years. 

Stop believing everything SpideyParker on YouTube says, that person desperately wants them together so they’ll do anything in their power to make it seem like that they’re ’’still together’’. All of their evidence is also nothing but scraps. I can also make a video cropping out certain individuals from the frame to make it look like Tom is with someone or I can also investigate every tiny detail to a borderline degree to make it seem like Zendaya is dating someone. It’s really easy to manipulate the truth, so don’t fall for these things so easily. Check with the real sources, Tom and Zendaya. Trust and respect what they say it’s not your job to investigate and figure their lives out.

Their evidence of the relationship is ridiculous, stuff like them wearing the same clothes,

because obviously there’s no way this jacket is in any random store in the world...This is a unique jacket, made by Tom and Z specifically...And it’s not even the same jacket. If we’re going by their logic, then

More, more, more and more.

Source

Robert Downey Jr. and Tom have been in a relationship for a long time...

Angourie, Remy and Tom wearing the same jacket.

I have no idea what’s going on with the freaking necklace you swear with blood that Zendaya gave him but that’s hardly something special:

Matching necklace with Olivia.

Avengers necklace.

He likes necklaces, nothing special here.

'’Tom only goes to Zendaya’s home, and only goes out with her!’’

Tom Holland went to RDJ's house to watch Black Panther with him.

Tom and RDJ facetime daily.

Obviously, his only friend is Zendaya...

Look at him and Zendaya there, wow.

‘‘Tom looks at her with heart eyes and in a very special way!’‘

Excuse me, what is he supposed to do? Ignore Zendaya and look somewhere else every time she talks?  

MORE

He literally looks at everyone the same way.

‘‘He only does Spider-Man because he wants to be the Peter Parker to his Mary Jane, one of the most romantic comic book couples!’‘

I can’t believe I once read this as proof but I haven’t forgotten about it.

Interview with Tom and Laura:

“Is Zendaya’s character Mary Jane Watson?’’

Tom Holland: “No, no! This is one of those rumours, that like, we’ve all said it’s not true.

Laura Harrier: It’s not true!

Tom Holland: Like, we keep on… You guys keep building yourselves up for disappointment.

Laura Harrier: Unless we don’t know how this started? Because you guys are gonna see this movie and be like “…Ugh.” She’s Michelle!

Tom Holland: She’s a character called Michelle.

Laura Harrier: She’s playing Michelle.

Tom Holland: 100%. Hands down. Her character’s called Michelle. And she’s sort of this weird, quirky one in the friendship group that Peter has. She’s funny, but she’s super strange.

Laura Harrier: Yeah, super dry humour.

Tom Holland: She’s 100% not Mary Jane. It’s funny, everyone’s like “Is she Mary Jane?” and I’m like NO, I’M TELLING YOU! SHE’S NOT MARY JANE!

Source

‘‘He did the Will Smith thing with her, he loves her!’‘

‘’He only ever talks about her! He only praises her!’’

Angourie Rice.

Robert Downey Jr, 2, 3

Laura Harrier, 2

Elizabeth Olsen.

Jacob Batalon.

Chris Hemsworth.

Jake Gyllenhaal.

And the list goes on and on.

‘‘He always goes to her special events only! He only goes to her parties! He only goes to hospitals with her! He was on the set of Euphoria with her!’‘

How about, he goes out with her and everyone else in group and individually? He goes out with Harrison alone, with Jacob alone, with Laura alone, etc. I love how many of them love to leave out certain people to make everyone believe it’s only the two of them. And he doesn’t only goes to hospitals with her, he’s gone with many other people and he does it because he’s a good person, not because he’s on a date with Zendaya. 

Tom AND Jacob visit Zendaya on the set of the Greatest Showman.

Tom and friends celebrating Harrison’s birthday party.

Tom on a double date.

Tom going to Joe Russo’s restaurant to get an exclusive cooking lesson from Jessica Largey.

Tom on birthday parties.

Tom, Laura, Harrison and Harry out for dinner in Brazil.

Tom, Brie Larson, Tessa Thompson, and Zachary Levi in a club in Brazil.

Tom, Laura, Jacob, Harrison in a pool party.

RDJ & Tom Holland visit Jon’s restaurant and participate on his show.

Tom Holland visits Doctor Strange’s set.

Tom Holland, Ciara Bravo, Joe Russo visit haunted attraction.

He’s a good person and loves supporting his friends.

‘‘He only has chemistry with her!’‘

Tom and RDJ’s extraordinary chemistry.

Tom and Jake’s chemistry.

Tom and Jacob’s chemistry.

Tom and Laura’s chemistry.

Tom and Daisy’s chemistry.

Tom and Chris Pratt’s chemistry.

Also Will Smith, Chris Hemsworth, etc. 

Look below for Ciara and Tom’s chemistry.

Like I said before, maybe he’s a good actor and that’s it? 

‘‘Their FFH kiss was too real and magical!’‘

Spoiler alert for Cherry

Fan about witnessing Tom’s kiss with Ciara Bravo:

His reaction about kissing Laura Harrier:

‘‘He LOVES touching her’‘

I’m sorry, is he supposed to be scared of touching people?

This is it. This is the big touch they always talk about and the only times they’ve ever held hands is in manips or in FFH, but that doesn’t count, those are fictional characters. Well...

Maybe he’s a touchy person. Consider that.

’’She’s the only one that knows him well!’’

How well do Zendaya, Jacob, & Laura know Tom?

I’m sure Harrison, RDJ, his friends and others know him pretty well too. 

And only because he knows she likes ice cream doesn't mean she’s his ultimate soulmate or something blown out of proportion.

‘‘He’s only a gentleman with her!’‘

Tom saves Gina Rodriguez

Tom rescues fan

Karen Gillan

‘‘He looked way too in love with MJ to be fake’‘

Nope.

Nope 2

Nope 3

It’s called acting, pretty sure you guys know by now he’s good.

‘’They’re inseparable!’‘

Jacob, Tom and Harrison 

Also, why is it that every female in his life is his cousin, aunt, close childhood friend or ‘’he probably hates her’’ for you? 

They’ve said this multiple times but:

In an interview with Elle, Tom said he is not involved with anyone at the moment but is "definitely a relationship person." And when addressing the rumors, he says it’s uncomfortable and annoying when people ship him and Zendaya together. 

Zendaya also denied the claims, telling Variety Magazine that she and Tom were simply ‘just friends’. 

You can ship them if you want, as a bromance or cute chemistry, but not at the expense of someone else. Not when you violate their privacy, their lives and specially not when you bully, harass and stalk every detail of their lives.

Zendaya is clearly very happy with Jacob Elordi:

Let her have that. No, she doesn’t look miserable with him, no, he didn’t change her style or her personality. No, she doesn’t dress differently because of him. She is the same as always, she looks even happier. Let her be. This is good for her. She has every right to go out in public with her boyfriend. And for the love of god, stop commenting on her instagram posts ‘’warning’’ her that Jacob is going to cheat on her. Hopefully that won’t happen ever. 

And no, they’re not going to magically ’’get back together’’ when Spider-Man 3 starts filming, stop wishing bad luck on Zendaya and Jacob’s relationship. Tom is not going to magically realize how ‘’wrong’’ he was for ‘’leaving’’ Zendaya. He never left her, he’s her friend. 

All of this have gotten to the point where Tom can’t have a friendship with a female and he has to ‘’protect’’ them every time he wants to interact with them. Do you guys seriously think this is ok? Are you really a fan of his if this is how you want him to live? Controlling him all the time? 

Do you realize how wrong and unfair it is for the other partner every time you comment in every single picture on instagram, twitter, etc about how ‘’cute’’ Tom and Zendaya are? About how ‘’ugly’’ Olivia is? How about when you compare Zendaya and Olivia, or every single female in Tom’s life? Or when you comment on Zendaya’s instagram telling her she is different now and that you don’t like her now because she’s changed for Jacob? Telling her that Jacob is going to cheat on her? Stop sending death threats to the partners, stop tagging their families in your ‘’evidence/proof’’ posts/tweets. Just because they don’t voice these things doesn’t mean they don’t read them. 

Being sincere, if you all, as a collective; really, genuinely cared about Tom, this is the last thing you would wanna pull. In your endless obsession with thinking you have a right to dictate the life of a man simply because he's famous; actually stopped once to consider how this is possibly making Tom and Zendaya feel?? You are basically sending the message that nobody is enough, that him being happy isn't enough, that he won't ever be allowed to be happy until he gets with the person YOU think is best for him. Fucking abhorrent, how they don't have a choice on who they choose to fucking love. This is how you make a celebrity jaded. THIS is how you make a celebrity hate you. And he will, unless you stop your bullshit, and treat him; and whoever he decides to be with, like human beings.

When you focus only on two people it’s easy to believe anything, try and see the bigger picture. Allow Zendaya and Tom to enjoy their lives without harassing them and their partners.

[nurseofren]

Keeping Your Promise - Chapter 24

Read on AO3

Read chapter twenty-three

Title: Prove it

Words: 6800

Warnings: Talks of pregnancy, mentions of vomit

Summary: A friend. A foe?

ST Rambles: I look pretty good for a dead bitch.

Okay. In all seriousness. In the five weeks that I have not updated, it has been chaos. School is absolutely kicking my ass this semester and I am not afraid to say it. Maternal-Newborn is a hell I would not wish on my worst enemy. With this said, I know any further updates will be sporadic, BUT - and I say this to snuff out any doubt on the matter - I will never, EVER, abandon this story. However it ends, rest assured that it will, in fact, do just that.

I thank you all for your patience and encouragement. This story is something I care deeply about and it just floors me that others do as well. I love interacting with you all, either on here or tumblr or TikTok (if you've made one and I haven't seen it, please tag me! My fyp does not work in my favor lol).

Be kind. Don't forget to be a person. All you can do is try your best.

[MASTERLIST] | BANNER/@elmidol

Good afternoon,

I can only hope this correspondence finds you safe and well.

The Board of Physicians sympathizes during this time of displacement and potential grieving. There are countless variables to be considered during uncertain times like these, but those of your safety and well-being are of the utmost importance. In an effort to convey the depth of our understanding, a unanimous vote has approved the decision to extend the dates of the trial by seven days. Upon receiving this official communication, you should plan to arrive on Canto Bight a minimum of two days prior to the morning of the initial hearing. An updated outline has been attached at the end of this e-mail for reference and sent to all pertinent parties.

Per the initial correspondence, Commander Ren is to receive a new provider prior to the trial’s start date. This objective has been met with the solemn barrier of the diminished population of approved nurses and physicians which resulted from the recent tragedy of Starkiller Base. There have been additional unforeseen circumstances also working to lengthen and altogether halt this approval process. Rest assured that we are doing everything in our power to ensure the trial proceedings occur in an organized and professional manner.

The emergent provider shortage, along with the unknown – and likely diminished – amount of surveillance retained from Starkiller Base prior to its destruction, has laid the foundation for the discussion of potential and probable employment during your time on Canto Bight. The discussions surrounding this issue are in their infancies. Should it be that you are to assume a care position during your trial, you will receive a further updated and in-depth itinerary. This would include the dates, times, and location you would be expected to work; this information would be accompanied by any specific limitations regarding your scope of practice while on trial.

Though you are encouraged to reach out to discuss any questions or concerns you may have pertaining to these new developments, the current agenda is to be followed with strict compliance. Should there be any changes, as stated previously, I will communicate these to you in a timely and conscious manner.

Respectfully,

Karmen Zag, Esq.,

Head of Communications,

The Board of Physicians

“Yeah, well, you can go fuck yourself Karmen Zag. Stupid ass name anyway.”

Not that anyone could hear you, nor that anyone would care, you could not help the petty jab. Karmen Zag, the faceless mouthpiece of the institution actively seeking your death, had little to do with anything. Karmen Zag was not the one who had carved initials into your body; that person was elusive to you now. Karmen Zag was not the one who kept you from sleep; that person was dead, killed by the trembling hands of the very survivor they’d created. Karmen Zag was not the one you were currently hiding from; that person, achingly kind and too ignorant to know different, still came to pick you up from shift every night.

Cramped in the corner of a supply room, you sat with your knees tucked to your chest and your datapad resting on your thighs, eyeing the vent at the bottom of the door to spy Mason’s tapping foot. In the seven days since waking up in the medbay, six days since returning to work to help with the increased patient population – or, at least that’s what you were telling yourself – you had found yourself with a desperate need to distance yourself from Mason. He was unaware of all that was haunting you, nescient to the fact he was at the epicenter of the majority of it. To see him was to remember the choice you’d made, to hate yourself for regretting it, to be morally ripped in half by the unwavering war in the back of your mind.

The first three days he would always sneak up on you, flurries of white lies leaving while you fumbled away from him and into the nearest room. I’m on call tonight was your favorite. No, you weren’t, though you had been staying in the on-call rooms to hide the fact that you no longer held a residence on this ship. No matter if you had not received official word on your employment status, you felt an unease when thinking of returning to Kylo Ren’s quarters. It felt too broken, like you’d be a stranger somewhere you’d once considered a home.

Eventually, Mason being an inherent creature of habit, you’d picked up on his timing. On the fourth day you’d decided to stake him out, finding he would spend exactly ten minutes waiting, send a message to your commlink, spend another five toying with his own as he waited for a response, eventually asking whoever was nearest to tell you to call him. You never did. It was despicable, watching his hope falter as the days passed and you were never there to leave with him; wretched, but that did not make it any less necessary.

So long as you were away from Mason, you couldn’t hurt him. If you could create a rift between the two of you so great as to discourage any further interaction, you could save him from all the suffering that came along with being associated with you. On the other hand, you couldn’t deny the comfort you felt in deferring any conversation with him. Avoidance may not be a healthy coping mechanism, but all the ones you’d learned of in school were useless to your set of circumstances; there was no talking this through, no way to speak of Snoke or Kylo or Robbie without getting someone else hurt. You were trapped in your own, sole company; whoever you had become recently, you were barely tolerant of them, let alone fond. It was growing increasingly difficult to recognize your own reflection. At some point you figured you might stop looking altogether.

Zag’s update had been present in your inbox ever since returning to work; with each read through – which, now, you’d have read a hundred times – you felt time pass by. Each night you spent time tucked away here, the cold tile permeating the scrub pants you now wore; the uniform you’d had on when you arrived back on the Finalizer had been too tattered to reuse. Not that you wanted to wear it; in those tattered, bloodied threads lay the obvious truth of how entirely you had failed at the only assignment you had ever been trusted with.

Trusted. The thought made you shiver. Yes. Trusted. Past tense. In every sense it could be. Thus, folded into yourself, away from prying eyes or well-meaning friends, you scrolled aimlessly up and down the message. Though its existence annoyed you, knowing full well that there was no empathy or genuine concern behind the decision to delay the trial, it also brought you ease to know this portion of your life was almost over. Again you were embracing the possibility of your death, only this time rooted in hatred for yourself, not Kylo Ren.

“Alright, well, can you tell her-,”

“Tell her to call you. Got it. Do every night.” One of your coworkers had grown exasperated with Mason – or was it with you? Either way, peeking through the vent slats, you spied Mason’s legs drag out of view. It made your heart fall, feeling more disgusted with yourself each day; it was this confusing combination of feeling a pull to run after him, to apologize to him with every breath you had left, only for that initial urgency to be swallowed by the knowledge that the action would be futile.

With tired eyes, not having gotten more than two hours of unbroken sleep since the sixteen you’d woken from, you looked to your left wrist. It was a routine gesture, pointless in the fact you had not worn the watch since finding it on your bedside table. Much like your uniform, only agonizingly amplified, the sight of the gadget inspired a hollowness in your chest. It remained in a pillowcase, hidden atop the bed you’d claimed. Each night you toyed with it, thumbed at the lifeless screen and wondered if it would ever offer another flicker; each night you caught the hazy reflection of two unfamiliar eyes, finding only the remnants of shattered promises staring back at you.

A sigh crept into your lungs when you stood, arms stretching and hands smoothing back your hair before going to activate the door. It hissed open without your indication; before you could question how, two hands pushed you out of the way and sent you flying face first into the storage shelves. Nose first, actually; the collision rang through your ears, pain throbbing in prominence as you stumbled for stability, arms widespread and eyes pinched shut.

“Oh! You have to be kidding!” Copper crept down your upper lip, cascading over your sharp tongue, foggy eyes opening to blood-stained fingers. “Watch where you’re going, jeez!”

Away from you sounded the door as it shut, but that wasn’t the sound that alarmed you. Across the room, near the sink – at least you hoped it was near the sink – came the horrendous retching that could only indicate vomit. The longer you listened, though, all the while blindly searching for a package of gauze, you found it wasn’t vomit, but an attempt towards it; echoes of dry heaves wracked the room, vomit absent even as the stranger continued in their effort toward expulsion.

A spill of winces left you, a grimace following suit when you tipped your head back, blood draining down your throat. You found a box of gauze squares and tore it open, peeling away a layer and rolling it into a cone before pushing it into one nostril. Vessels pounded against the material, injury soaking into it as you caught your breath.

“I’m so sorry,” a familiar voice said, groggy and breathless. “The refresher was occupied, and the occupancy indicator wasn’t on.” She took another breath, gasping back spit. “I figured the sink in here would do.”

Another person you’d been avoiding. Talia. Sick. As she would be, of course. It was something you’d fought thoughts on; it was too confusing, too unnerving to put the pieces you’d been offered together. Hux had left her room, had been so distraught. Talia had seized and ended up in the medbay. Armitage. Stars, how that word haunted you in the way it left her paling lips. She’d been so disoriented, so scared. Glassy eyes and green pallor. And the person she’d asked for was Armitage.

With these thoughts, dizzying as they had become, came the image of the very thing that tied them all together: that square-cut, printed, glossy ultrasound picture. Between nightmares of Robbie and desperately trying to find any amount of sleep, you saw it clear in your head, remembered how you’d lost your ability to stand when you first considered the reality of it. It all made sense clinically; the symptoms, the tangible evidence showing a yolk sac, the patient identifiers framing the monochrome image.

But, when you remembered running into Hux, remembered the ghost in his eyes and felt the rather unsettling demeanor – one not marked with errant hatred – he’d met you with, it all started to blur. Jumble. Your mind rejecting the thought that Talia and Hux-

Talia mewled, your eyes opening to find white knuckles outfitting a vise grip over the sink’s metal edge. The fluorescent lights lining the ceiling made it all too easy to see how sick she really was. Tears glinted down her cheeks, her hair dull in its tousled bun, a string of spit straying from her bottom lip; there was a suggestion of green just below the surface of her skin, exhaustion evident in the lavender drapes below her eyes.

A shaky breath left her before she rested against the sink, elbows bent and fingers rolling over her temples. For a moment there was a deafening silence, one that strangled you and emphasized the throbbing in your nose when you stopped breathing. It dissipated when Talia groaned, her head drooping and stance shifting.

“At least shift is done, right?” She sounded like she was talking to anyone. She didn’t know it was you. She didn’t know you knew.

Swallowing, dropping your hand from your face, you tried to think of anything to say. But nothing would come. And, considering how little time you had left to know her – execution or not – you saw no point in frivolous small talk.

“How far along are you?” It was a low rasp; frail in its existence yet bludgeoning the quiet that had preceded it.

She didn’t look up, but you knew she recognized your voice; her every muscle stalled, hair even stilling as your words sank into her. It was the first thing you’d said to her since she’d seized. In her silent shock it dawned on you that it had not been long since you’d been in a situation similar to this; the two of you, a pitting silence, a mess – obvious and blaring – surrounding you.

Only this mess was not something that could be cleaned. This mess existed outside all you had once thought to consider. Though this room was less gruesome in appearance, it held that same suffocated dread, carried with it the reminder that everything could change without a moment’s notice. Watching the color return to her cheeks, absentmindedly brushing your fingertips across the raised marks atop your thigh, it hit you how true that fact was.

A small sound – a swallow – filled the room, a sigh to accompany it. “Six weeks. I think, at least. Maybe more.” She stood then, crossing her arms and leaning against the sink. A wall stood between you and her, invisible yet so entirely present. “No one knows.” Her jaw fluttered at its hinge. The wall was for her; a façade, a crutch. She was scared.

The door lit cool shivers down your back, hands digging into your pockets, a weak attempt at a smile pulling at your face. “Congratulations,” you offered first, forgetting the circumstances before seeing her eyes fall to the floor. “Or not, I guess.”

She kept her eyes down. “I’m not showing, and I’ve been good about sneaking away to throw up, so…”

“Last week,” you said, her stare coming back to you, “after Starkiller. I fainted after arriving back here, and after I woke up,” I washed the Commander of the First Order’s hair and cried to his comatose body about how my life is falling apart, “I just had to know you were okay, so I visited you.”

“I don’t remember seeing you. I actually… How did you even know I had been admitted to the medbay?”

“You were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.” You chewed your cheek, recounting any of those 48 hours made your pulse jump. “You weren’t well off when I found you, before they took you to the medbay, so I wouldn’t expect you to remember me being there.”

Her brow dipped for half a second, a crack creeping into that wall. “I didn’t know you found me. It’s difficult for me to even recall most of that day.” Her shoulders dropped, stature less rigid now. “Thank you, though.”

You nodded, not entirely sure why she felt it necessary to thank you. “Yeah. So, you were sleeping and I saw the tests ordered on your board. And then I found your ultrasound on the floor.”

Her eyes were so distant, pupils housing a familiar ghost. “It must have fallen when I was sleeping.” Her lips parted with the whisper, egregious loneliness overwhelming the thought.

It felt like the floor would fall out at any second, the interaction so fragile. Watching her with intent, measuring her reactions, you charged ahead into territory you’d been afraid to enter for so long.

“Talia,” you started, buying more time to think on your phrasing. Her focus startled back from wherever her mind had taken her. “I mean, maybe this is ridiculous, and maybe I’m so far off base in even suggesting it…”

Her arms dropped when a hand reached to tuck a collection of stray hair behind her ear, nose sniffing, teeth pulling at her bottom lip. She took her eyes from yours, breath picking up. That wall she stood behind was wearing.

You couldn’t stand beating around the bush any longer, sick of theorizing about it all. It fled out, no breath to separate any of it. “I’ll just say it: Hux was leaving your room when I came around. And he was being weird. So weird. I mean, he was being… would I say nice? Maybe just, less awful? He complimented me. And it was so weird, but I thought I would give him the benefit of the doubt because, you know, he’d just lost a lot of men. But then it was you in the room and I.. he was so distraught? That is barely the right word, but I mean? He just wasn’t General Hux. And then I found the ultrasound and remembered how you’d asked for ‘Armitage’ earlier when I’d found you, and-,”

A weep signaled the destruction of the wall she’d thrown up, hands clawing into her eyes and lungs heaving full of ragged, desperate air. “Oh, please tell me you didn’t tell him! He can’t- I don’t!” Sobs rolled off of her between each exclamation. “I haven’t told him. I don’t know how. I- he’s so evil! I can’t believe I ever slept with him!”

Seeing her come apart, feeling the guilt she did in every word she cried, you could only think to take her into your arms. In your hold you felt her shaking and the pain roll off of her in thick, grating waves. It was familiar, like she, too, had been existing alone; you had not noticed, so buried in your own avoidance that you had not thought to consider hers.

“I’m so sorry! I’m so- I’m so sorry! It makes me so mad that- ugh!”

“Hey, stop. Slow down,” you soothed, hugging her tighter. “You have nothing to apologize to me for. You’ve done nothing wrong, okay?”

“No, I have! I slept with my Master! And got pregnant! And he’s such a fucking jerk! He’s the whole reason you’re losing your career, you know? And I had sex with him! And I feel- felt real things for him!” A breath stuttered into her lungs. “I never meant for it to go any further than that first night, and then… fuck.”

It burned down to your marrow that you had the power to comfort her, knew everything she was feeling even if it wasn’t hatred that left you crying at night. She would be embraced in knowing you had also slept with your Master; it would minimize the guilt she now felt. To tell her you had fallen for Kylo Ren could help her know that she wasn’t alone.

Instead, feeling her tears accumulate on your sleeve, struggling to keep in your own, you kept quiet. She would not learn how you had burned so bright for your commander. It was selfish, but it was necessary. Self-preservation. She would be testifying against you, taking the stand right after Hux. Her not knowing would do no harm; it would keep her from having to consider or commit perjury. Talia now joined Mason, another soul to protect, another person you would lie to.

Several minutes passed before she stopped trembling, another few before the tears stopped staining your uniform. Humanity existed in these moments, and though you would hide how you knew the advice you would offer her, you knew she needed to hear it. A part of you did, too.

Moving your arms from her back and grasping both her shoulders, you locked eyes with her and forced her to see that you somehow understood her pain. “There is nothing to feel guilty about. Not that you slept with him, or that you got pregnant. Not that you felt things for him or that you still do.” Her eyes shut at that, a fresh streamlet dragging into her mouth. “You can still love him even if he has done awful things.”

“Gosh, how can you say that? He’s ruined your life,” she shuddered, grimacing before looking back up to you.

“I made the choice to take that blood. I had a choice,” your throat tightened, not knowing if you were reciting the words from their origin or from your dream, “I made the one I thought was the best at the time. Hux may be an ass in the way he has gone about the issue, but it’s not like he wouldn’t have reported me.”

She sobbed your name, confusion and hurt wrought in her features. “That blood saved that patient. You saved that patient. We both know that. You saved him and you’re suffering for it and I’m the one who wrote the incident report. He made me write it. Such a fucking bastard.”

Just like that, whatever weird internal truce you’d made with Hux disappeared. “Yeah, that is a dick thing to do, I will say that.”

She wiped at her cheeks, shaking her head. “I should have lied on that report.”

“And gotten both of us in trouble? That isn’t a solution.”

“If I had, you would be less alone in this. And I wouldn’t have to testify against you.” Talia’s eyes shot to the ceiling and back, frustration hot on her breath. “It’s just so-,”

“Unfair. I know. I have… I’ve beaten myself up about it too much not to know that.” This conversation was too similar to those you’ve held inwardly. It was becoming repetitive to keep sulking over something you could not change. But Talia, if she wanted, could change her situation. “We went through the same program, got the same schooling, I know you know your options here.”

She chewed her cheek, shaking her head. A long drag of breath found its way into her chest, releasing when your hands fell to your sides. “This is where you find out how stupid I am.”

It pulled at your heart to hear how hard she was being on herself. “You aren’t stupid. And if you are? Could’ve fooled me with your class rank and just general existence.”

A laugh, weak but not acrid. “Academics were easy. Career is easy. This life stuff? Messy. Complicated. I feel like no matter what I do, it will blow up in my face.” That earlier distance glazed over her stare, a glimmer of yearning present in the way her eyebrows pinched. “And what I want…think I want? I’m not sure it’s even possible.”

“What do you want?”

Talia shut her eyes, capitulation and indignance set in her features, jaw flexed. “I haven’t spoken to him since that night,” she whispered. “He watched me fill out that report. I was sobbing in front of him and he said nothing.” A hand smoothed over her hair and clutched into her bun, lips quivering for a moment. “I didn’t even know until last week. I woke up for a few minutes and they started talking about all that had happened – fainting and seizures and blood tests – and they immediately wheeled me down to have an ultrasound to confirm the hCG results and urinalysis.”

She paused, growing in distance the more she shared. “Was it just your electrolytes that caused the seizure?”

“Yeah. Yes.” She blinked back to the present. “Belkar actually said I was severely dehydrated and that my metabolic panel reflected that.” Talia was dancing between two timeframes; gentleness framed her face when revisiting that of the past. Something so delicate in her stare; adoration cusping on hope. “I always told myself I would never have children. It scared me seeing how sick they could become when we had our unit on pediatrics. I’d never wanted to feel so helpless as the parents I saw during clinical.”

It almost winded you to watch a single tear slip down her cheek, allowing her silence during her pause before she looked up at you, desperation drowning her eyes. She couldn’t find – or, maybe, did not want to believe – the words that overwhelmed her. “What changed?” You knew, but she needed to hear it for herself.

Her lips had become puffy, teeth pulling at the bottom one. She reached into the front pocket of her scrub dress, pulling from it that square print, only now with rolled, worn corners. “I know it’s early and there are so many things that can go wrong and I know I had been drinking before I knew, but…” A swallow bobbed her throat, a fond smile forming when she toyed with the scan. “When they handed this to me? Something just, I don’t know, came into view.”

A surge of immense pain coiled into you. In her reverie you saw yourself, realized how fortunate her situation was; she had something she wanted and even though it was complicated, she had a choice in the matter.

Again, her mind had wandered, distraction framing her tone; her brows pinched together for a second, a question sparking from her memories. “Have you ever wanted something so much, and maybe you didn’t fully understand it, but you just knew? For whatever reason, this was the thing you would do everything in your power to make possible? To have what you want, no matter how daunting or nonsensical it seemed?”

“Yeah,” you choked out, coughing against the new strain on your throat, “I think so.” Talia had that ability, though, and it cracked against your skull how helpless you were to go after what you wanted.

“You said that I could still love him if he’s done awful things,” she quoted, her attention returning to you. “I don’t love him. I don’t think I really know him that well. But…” She shook her head, shoulders shrugging and a puff of breath leaving her nose. “I miss him. It’s so dumb, but the bastard is nice to be around when he isn’t buried in politics. When he’s just a person. When he isn’t the General. When he’s just—” another smile, similar to her earlier one “—Armitage.”

“That has to be the strangest part of this whole thing.” A small laugh bubbled past your lips. It had been so long since the last one. “Armitage.”

“It was very odd at first. But I’m not going to cry out General, oh please General! when I’m cumming, so I got over it.”

Dumbfounded, all you could do was gawk at her candor. It warmed you, though, feeling like that first night you’d hung out with her. A good memory. Her cheeks pinked in your silence and the sight pulled you straight into a ruckus of laughter, tears – born in pain, falling from humor – and lightheartedness. It was short lived, but Talia joined in your fit; abashed giggles leaving her smile-tight face.

“I mean, I feel like it would be weirder if you were sleeping with Commander Ren.” Talia jabbed at your shoulder. “Calling him… Kylo? That just feels downright wrong.”

Instantaneously, your high fizzling into nothing before her, you found yourself right where you were when you’d said your first goodbye. Ky. It wilted your heart, shrouded whatever glimpse of happiness you’d just caught. Talia was too lost in the joke to notice you’d backed away from her, face turned so she couldn’t see the suffering rise to the surface.

“Ha, yeah. Wrong. So, so wrong.” You cleared your throat, brushing past the weak attempt at nonchalance, ready to be off this subject. “So you miss him? You miss… Armitage? Yeah, no. I’m gonna stick to Hux, if that’s alright?”

A final laugh lit from her chest, Talia waving you off. “That’s fine, of course. And yeah. I miss him.” Her brow furrowed. “Do you think it could work? Me and him, and—” she gestured down to her abdomen, placing the scan back in her pocket “—this?”

This was none of your business, and you doubted anything you could say would help her, but there was genuine curiosity in her voice. There was respect in how she wanted your insight into something so intimate and personal.

A sigh preceded your reply, unsure if you were speaking to her or yourself. “I think… Just as you said earlier: no matter if its daunting or nonsensical or even completely impossible – if you want it and you are willing to do everything in your power to get it?”

Hope lit behind her eyes, bloomed in her chest at the suggestion. “It could work.”

Struggle hid behind a mask of hope. Of course she did not know how it pained you to offer words that would never exist for yourself, and it wasn’t fair to ruin her moment of clarity with the bitter bite of ill-placed jealousy. There was no part of you that envied her condition, but instead what it entailed; you coveted her ability to choose the life she wanted.

Talia shook her head free, a giggle warm on her breath. “We should get out of here. Night shift is gonna run us off soon. You have the time?”

“Uh, not readily available. But I’m sure it’s way past shift change.” You started toward the door.

“Hey, I noticed you’ve been staying in the on-call rooms?”

“Oh.” It surprised you that she’d noticed. The knowledge warmed you to your core, both from embarrassment and appreciation. “Yeah, I know you guys have been swamped down here with all the fallout from Starkiller, so I just thought I’d stay near to help out.”

She tsked, your name a mocked plead. “You are Starkiller fallout. You need to rest. Especially now that you can. I got an update from Zag about the trial. You’ve got, what? Three or four days before Canto Bight? Seven until the initial hearing?”

She’d done the same math you’d gone over at length. Hearing it from someone else’s mouth made it that much more real. Frightening. “I know. I do, I know. But what’s wrong with spending them here?”

“You know as much as I do that working constantly drains the absolute soul from you. Even just working these past three days I have been dying for my time off.”

“Yeah, but you have a reason to be tired.”

“I’m pregnant. You survived a planet exploding all the while keeping the Commander of the First Order alive. Are you forgetting that?”

Talia, I wish I could forget all of it. “No, I’m just-,”

“And I know you’ve been blowing off that McCarty guy. He’s a physician, right?”

Maybe you’d been less discreet in your efforts toward avoidance than you thought. It felt like being caught; this web of lies was becoming a strain, less of a benefit, a hinderance rather than protection. “He’s… Mason doesn’t know what he’s asking for, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” Talia strode to your side, stern eyes on your own. “Look,” a breath softened her demeanor, “whatever happened on Starkiller, whatever you saw or felt – it’s affecting you. I don’t know what it is, and I’m not asking you to tell me – though, you can tell me anything – but at some point it becomes a choice to remain stagnant in grief.”

“Hey!” Talia had always been blunt, but her audacity now clawed at your patience.

“Okay, sorry, yes that was very harsh,” she placed a firm hand on your shoulder, “but you are the one who made me realize that. Here. Now.”

Tears threatened but remained stuck in your throat. “Like you said, I’m alone in this. I have to be.”

“The way I see it, you aren’t-,”

“Talia, I am.”

“You aren’t. Me being here and that physician coming here every night is proof of that.” You met her with silence. She shrugged. “You could have left me to deal with my issues alone, but you saw me and knew I couldn’t.” More silence on your part, her stare flicking between your eyes. “I see you. You can’t deal with this alone. I won’t let you.”

You fought to hide them, but one by one fell the tears you had not permitted before. For so long it seemed you had been shielding others from hurt, ensuring a safety they were not aware they needed. Talia was offering that to you, now. Rejection was the first instinct to kick in, feelings of doubt and thoughts of I do not deserve this blaring in urgency.

But then she spoke, naming what you had been too scared to confront. “Choose to not be alone. It doesn’t make you a bad person,” her hand left you, overwhelming assurance in her smile, “You’ve been strong for long enough, for so many others. Let someone be strong for you for once.”

The next breath you took was a million times lighter than any you’d had since seeing Kylo those days ago. She really did see you, more than she could ever know. It was imperfect, of course; you weren’t sure anyone would ever be fully aware of how much pain you were in, there was so much you could never share. It was her offer that brought you solace; it may be superficial for you, but Talia was in your corner, and she believed, knew, that it meant something. In her eyes, pooled with intensity, you heard her loud and clear: that oath, born in blood, was renewed here and now, its strength indelible even in silence.

“Now,” she activated the door, its hiss shivering down your spine, “I think Mason would love it if you caught up with him.” The two of you stepped into the hall, already beginning to part paths. “I’d invite you to stay with me but I, uh…”

“You’ll be otherwise predisposed?”

“…We’ll see,” rose bloomed in her cheeks, “I don’t think I’ll tell him. Not tonight. Not yet.”

“Ah,” you sighed, a yawn slipping past.

“Get some sleep! And maybe just… get some, you know?”

The joke registered too late, her paces halfway down the hall before you called out, “Oh. Oh. No, I’m not with- we aren’t anything more than friends.” Not sure if she even heard you, she waved behind her before turning a corner. Well. That’ll need clarifying.

Heat flared in your cheeks, several pairs of eyes weighing on your shoulders at the outburst. Would there ever be a day when you were not embarrassing yourself on this unit? Given this would be the last shift before going to Canto Bight, probably not. Eyes tracking your steps, deciding to surprise Mason instead of call him, you found your way to the on-call room where your entire world was set up; remnants of a past one, at least.

In it you gathered your belongings – a pair of back up scrubs, a toiletries bag, and the lifeless watch. There was a hesitance before placing the device with the other items. Six nights you had spent staring at its blank face, resenting the stranger you’d come to see. Glancing your face before placing it in the bag, you did a double-take. In the most minute details, barely there, you found a familiarity in the eyes you met; they were less dull, something like life or light peeking through the surface.

You dropped the gadget into your pocket, gathered your uniform into the bag, and took a final glance at the shelter you’d sought amidst a storm that had nearly consumed you. Even though nothing had truly mended, there was comfort in the absence of solitude; in the face of probable death, the explicit knowledge that you were not alone made it less daunting. Less impossible.

A final breath brought the door to a close, footsteps leading you into the vast expanse of the Finalizer. The change in air was nice, lungs welcoming the difference and cluing you into the fact you still had a gauze square shoved up your nose. It took a tug to pull it from its place, a sting pinching at the sudden release of pressure.

“Shit,” you hissed, feeling a new stream of warmth trickle past your lips. Two fingers pressed to your mouth, testing for a mirage but coming back with the real thing, red creaks splintering into the ridges of your fingerprint. Without thinking you wiped it down your scrub top, forgetting you were no longer clothed in camouflaging black, but instead unforgiving grey. “Fuck!”

“Wasn’t this how I left you here the last time?”

The airlock must have snapped, lungs solid, muscles frozen. Tension seized your ribcage, pulse plummeting, blood bounding against tuned ears. Every bit of moisture abandoned your mouth. Every bodily process you could think of stopped.

There was no modulation, each word raw, bare, and clear as the last time you had heard their founder. At least, the last time you’d heard it while awake. It was less haunted now, filled not with insidious rage but rather bone-chilling earnest.

“I suppose not, given it’s your blood tonight.”

He drew nearer, boots heavy and steps paced to perfection, the rhythm of his stride an echo of your heart. Kylo Ren was less than three paces from you and all you could do was endure the sensation of a singular ruby droplet following the line of your artery, dragging past your clavicle, and ghosting the skin over your sternum. The crimson trail began to dry, steps no longer sounding when you forced yourself to look up.

Chaos tore into the base of your spine, every nerve ending firing at the sight of his bare face, no helmet to veil the visage you had memorized. The black strip rested in prominence, striking through his features; in it you found a curious attraction, finding it fit him. The wound was less severe now, healing with time. He wore no helmet, but that by no means meant there was no mask keeping him at a distance only he knew the measure of.

“Where have you been, officer?” Cyanosis was a likely reality, breath still evading you as each word fell in baritone; petrified pupils not knowing where to focus. “Your services finally required, and yet you were nowhere to be found.”

Nothing. No words. No sound. No thoughts. Barren in every aspect of cognizance, you remained silent and still, only knowing to perceive him for what he was: superior.

A twitch at his brow, a narrowing of his eyes. Studying. Testing. “How unfortunate; starved for words when they would actually count.” His injury moved fluidly against his words, a beauty in the way it ebbed with each syllable.

A ping sounded at your waist, commlink buzzing in your pocket.

Languid, Kylo’s eyes dipped toward the sound. “You should get that,” he drawled, eyes twitching before conquering yours once more, “could be important.”

His tone haunted you, demeanor too suggestive. You swallowed against a dry throat, locked in his stare, knuckles brushing your watch when you took out your commlink. It trembled in your grip, shocked muscles heavy with weakness. His concentration had become adamant, palpable, an eyebrow prompting your attention to whatever message had triggered the alarm.

Concerning the defendant,

In the week since the previous correspondence, it has come to be that the defendant is to partake in nursing practice during her time on Canto Bight. This allows the Board of Physicians ease in collecting surveillance imperative to their final judgement.

Commander Ren’s decision to bar the defendant from external practice has been nullified as to not contradict this process.

In permitting the defendant’s practice while on trial, the objective to obtain a new provider has been benched. Due to this, the defendant shall remain assigned to her current Master while residing on Canto Bight…

At last, breath flourished your lungs, an inadvertent gasp thrusting a glutton of oxygen into your airway. Crazed eyes darted over the message for any sign of a mistake that would prove it to be falsified; the only thing you could find was finality, a document containing the proposed schedule attached at the end of the message.

A buzz washed through your brain, overstimulated by the information, everything around you suddenly all too close and bright. Jaw bound shut but still trembling, eyes low and unfocused, a familiar pressure flicked just under your chin. The Force tipped your face upward, pupils strict in their position, passing first over a tense jaw and landing at last on the challenge that lay behind Kylo Ren’s glare.

“I’ll see you on Canto Bight, officer.” A serpentine smirk slithered along his lips, one stride bringing him so his face was hidden, shoulder linked with yours, and fingers jut out to graze at the hidden permanence atop your left thigh. His voice, an onslaught of emptiness, a cold threat, suffocated all that surrounded you. “You wanted to give me more? Prove it.”

[tarithenurse]

Nightingale - 25

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Hatake Kakashi &/x Fem!OC Contents: Various tempers but mostly TEH FLUFF!! OMG the fluuuuuff!. A/N: Weekend! Yay! As usual, ASK or REBLOG for tag!

Ch. 25

It was supposed to be an escort-mission. A simple D-level with no obstacles and plenty of time for training along the way which in turn would be good for the kids. Instead, it had turned into a hassle with several violent confrontations better suited for a team of jōnins.

Zabuza. At least no one has to worry about the Demon from Kirigakure. And to top it off: they boys are still fiercely competitive (well, one of them is), but their communication has visibly improved and they are slowly but surely figuring out ways to support – rather than hinder – each other.

"I expect to see you all fully rested tomorrow morning," the jōnin dismisses them.

"Haï! Ready to kick -"

"Naruto!" Already, Sakura is ready to lecture the straw-haired kid.

Following a different route, the sensei makes sure to report a job well done before ambling past the Academy on his way home.

School's in session, and he can see the students bend over their desks or staring, slightly absentmindedly now and then, ahead of them. There. He spots Iruka through the windows. The teacher is pacing back and forth, sometimes pointing to the white scribbles on the blackboard before adding something as he interacts with the kids.

Unplanned, Kakashi's gaze roves the seats, but the person he's looking for is nowhere to be found. Maybe she's self-studying? It would not be surprising. According to the Iruka, Uguisu is familiar with most of the theory pertaining shinobi skill sets, and so she is often granted time to focus on training or on the common subjects like history or mathematics.

It doesn't sit right with him, admittedly, not to know where Uguisu is even if someone else is bound to be watching her. If Kakashi would be honest with himself, he'd have to admit he prefers the idea of the watcher being none other than him...but he pushes the nagging feeling aside before getting that far.

...

Well past suppertime, the jōnin is running out of things to do to distract the busy mind of his. He is also running out of places where he could "accidentally" bump into a certain blue-haired woman. Leaving the roof of the water tower, he considers the option of summoning Pakkun to help. Maybe that's overkill? It probably is.

So he simply wanders aimlessly, his thoughts lost between the past and the future without paying attention to the shift in the surroundings where the buildings of Konoha retreat in the favour of trees.

The road continues one direction but Kakashi's body guides him down a narrower path that winds between the undergrowth and sometimes fights with gnarly roots until the tall oaks and maples give up, revealing a clearing with soft grass and moss with starry flowers.

And a lone figure.

The last warmth from the sun changes the blue hues and lends a shimmer like that of the distant ocean as Kakashi walks over. Her shoulders tense for a second but she must have come to the conclusion that it's no one dangerous because she stays seated with the chin on the knees.

"Should've guessed you'd come here," the jōnin breaks the silence, memories of stolen midnight rendezvous surfacing.

"Hmm."

Something's wrong. "Came here to be alone?"

"Hrmph!" She doesn't even look up at him.

Although Uguisu has been welcomed to Konoha by the Hokage and is doing her best to become a ninja of The Leaf, most shinobi are still reluctant to accept her. Rather than shun the outsider, they keep an eye on her and whisper about her every move. She's never really alone. Turning to the forest, Kakashi announces for whoever is spying on them that he'll take over. A soft rustling in the leaves is the only answer he gets.

"If you want -" shoving his hands deep into the pockets, Kakashi prepares to get any hopes bashed -"I'll leave you alone...but it's generally better to talk about the problems."

Finally, she looks at him. "You're my problem." The man isn’t sure how to respond but is saved the worry as she continues angrily, “I’m stuck here while you run off on who knows what sort of silly quest. Back in a week? Ha! D-rank my ass! And no one tells me anything! Not that you barely travelled two days before you were attacked! Or that the entire mission involved a gang of criminal and missing-nins! NoooOOo!”

“Wait! If no one told you,” Kakashi interrupts the tirade, “how do you know? Did you break int-”

“Don’t! I’m pissed because...because...what’d I be supposed to do if you got yourself killed? Huh?”

Oh. “You’re worried about me.”

Her gaze is trained on anything else but him as a blush spreads. “Don’t change the s-”

Uguisu doesn’t get any further because the jōnin shuts her up with a kiss. Slow and soft, it sends hearts galloping, and he restraints himself and lets her lead the pace even as the woman’s mouth grows more demanding. Hungry.

They’re both breathing hard when he finally breaks the contact with a few millimetres. “I missed you too.”

“This isn’t gonna make me miss you less,” she whispers back.

He smiles through another (shorter) kiss before admitting that it’s the plan. “But I’ll make sure you’re informed if something really does go wrong, okay? I can even ask Pakkun or one of the others to go to you.”

”Pakkun?”

Perhaps it’s irrational. It is. If the worst should happen, then they’d be too far apart for her to be of any assistance and the Hokage would find out eventually, ensuring the right actions be taken and a handful of people be informed. The old leader would know Uguisu is among them now. But she doesn’t trust that yet and how could she?

That’s why Kakashi spills a bit of his blood to summon the entire pack of ninken.

“Uguisu, meet Pakkun, Buru, Urushi, Shiba, Bisuke, Akino, Ūhei, and Guruko. Pack, meet Uguisu.” Noses wriggle to take in the cottony scent of the woman and a few tails even wag though that might be pure instinct. “If I die, go straight to her.”

“Hi,” she waves while ignoring a muted howl supposed to tease the man but her attention is fixed on Shiba.

Yapping curiously, the hounds get the basic information they want from the humans and accept the request. Thank you, guys. Meant to comfort the woman, Kakashi can’t deny the peace it grants him too to know she won’t be forgotten. Maybe, one day they will allow her to summon them.

“Excuse me,” Uguisu is addressing Shiba, bending down to whisper something into his ear that the jōnin can’t hear over the hounds’ panting and scuffling.

The answer is clear, though. “I’m not some pet.”

“My apologies!”

“But I’ll allow it this once...” the mohawked hound concedes and sits down before the woman.

Attempting to still be respectful, she runs her fingers through the coarse hairs gently at first before really digging in, and soon the creature is barely sitting, his tongue lolling out and the tail wagging happily. He doesn’t even attempt to shut the rest of the pack up as they laugh at him and soon their mocking is replaced with ill-disguised pleas for similar treatments. Uguisu happily obliges.

Hrmph. Oh, Kakashi’s thrilled that they’re all getting along, it’s just...

“Okay okay! That’s enough, you can finish the grooming session some other time!” he grumbles, earning little less than jeering howls of laughter from the hounds who seem to have made up their minds.

Soon, though, it’s just the man and woman left.

“Say, ‘Kashi...” she smiles crookedly, “are you...jealous?”

Yes...I might be. “Don’t be silly. They’re -”

His defence crumbles the moment her fingertips dig into the wiry hair and connect with his scalp. It’s like he’s turned to kin-gyoku! Spinelessly, he’s toppled onto his back, barely even able to show any surprise at his head coming to rest on her belly, because it feels amazing when Uguisu is carting her fingers through the white strands, aimlessly attempting to subdue it into anything but unruly spikes.

[jokertrap-ran]

(未定事件簿) 莫弈 [剧情: 第2章] [Tears of Themis] Mo Yi Private Story Translations (Chapter 2-7)

*Tears of Themis Masterlist / Mo Yi’s Masterlist / Mobile Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Mo Yi’s Private Story tag is #Tears of a Personal Psychiatrist. *Chapter 1 can be viewed here!

Location: Mo's Mental Health Research Center

After confirming Li Yu's identity, Mo Yi rejected my request to continue taking part in the investigation.

MC: Why!?

MC: It wasn't easy for us to get this far, Dr. Mo! There's no way I can just give up on this so easily!

Mo Yi: …...

But Mo Yi only continued staring at me in silence, a thoughtful look on his face.

Mo Yi: ...Before we put this discussion on the table, please answer me this honestly: Have the PUAs come to you for revenge?

MC: Oh...No… They haven't; why do you ask…?

His sudden question caught me by surprise. I hurriedly avoided his eyes, pretending not to understand his question.

Mo Yi: I'm supposing that the "spam message" you received the other day was actually an SMS they'd sent as harassment.

Mo Yi: And recently, the actions that these people have been taking have been getting more and more aggressive; essentially having even affected your daily life to a certain extent.

Mo Yi: That's why you said they were "arrogant"; am I right?

MC: !!!

MC: ...Nothing gets past you after all.

I couldn’t help but to sigh, deciding to come clean about everything that I’d been hiding from him recently.

MC: Yeah. Some PUAs have been verbally harassing me with threats lately.

Mo Yi: When did this start?

MC: Probably not long after the “Anti-PUA” Club turned into a mutual aid group. Someone had suddenly added me as a friend one day.

MC: They asked if I was the Lawyer who’d helped Lin Yunyun, and I thought that they were also a fellow victim, so I replied in the affirmative; but in the end...

I couldn’t stop all the many different sorts of harassment messages that I’d received recently from popping back up in my mind at the thought of it.

Those messages, not fit to be shown to anyone at all, were always sent to my phone at fixed timings. There were countless, so many that I could never delete them all even if I tried. It gradually became a personal living hell of nightmares.

MC: There were only a few people who did it sporadically at first, so blacklisting and blocking them worked like a charm; but then the number of people doing it increased...

MC: Why do they always choose to bombard people during sleeping hours!? Don’t these people need sleep too!?

However, I’d failed to notice how Mo Yi’s face was twisting itself into an increasingly unsightly look at this moment in time.

Mo Yi: ...Why didn’t you tell me? How were you planning to put up with this alone, if I hadn’t asked today?

MC: Well… It wasn’t anything big at all. They only sent me a couple of unpleasant texts, and it didn’t really cause a big impact on me or anything like that.

MC: Anyway, let’s not talk about this anymore and get back on the topic of how to continue our investigation. I—

Mo Yi: I apologize, but my stand is still the same; it’ll be for the best if you don’t take part in the upcoming course of action.

MC: ……

Mo Yi: ……

That was how Mo Yi and I faced each other in a stand-off; neither of us saying anything, neither of us willing to back down.

The air came to a stand-still, the damning silence that would make anyone hold their breaths accompanied by the faint scent of “gunpowder”, as figurative sparks filled the air.

MC: Then, could you tell me a reason why I should not? I can’t give up on this just because you tell me to, Dr. Mo.

Mo Yi: ……

Mo Yi: I have three reasons for this.

Mo Yi: Firstly, although Li Yu’s story was created from one big patchwork, Wang Chen is still an experienced PUA, from what we can glimpse from the credible parts of her story.

Mo Yi: I cannot allow you to interact with him alone, considering how you’ve not received the relevant training.

Mo Yi: Secondly, although our actions have not been fully exposed yet, the fact that the other party retaliated against you means that they’ve already got their eye on you.

Mo Yi: If this goes any further, it will only escalate; and when the time comes, it won’t just be merely verbal words of threat.

Mo Yi: They will attempt to break through your psychological defenses from all angles, thus, endangering your very life itself.

Mo Yi: And lastly…

He placed the teacup in his hands down, his gaze dropping to my face, an inexplicable emotion within his golden orbs.

Mo Yi: Just what’s in your mind, as you do these things?

Mo Yi: Is it to uphold justice? To deter the other members of the PUA Group? Or is it to save all of the girls who’ve been harmed by it?

Mo Yi: Can you really do all of this?

Mo Yi: Even if we did settle this matter with Li Yu along with all the other people backing her, there’ll still be other PUA Groups in this world who lurk in the dark.

Mo Yi: They’ll continue hunting girls, and even go so far as to treat you as a right thorn in their side, using various methods to retaliate against you to no ends.

Mo Yi: And at the very end of it all, not only will you fail to protect others; You might also very well be unable to protect yourself.

Mo Yi: This fairness and justice you seek might not be able to see the light at all.

Mo Yi: Now, with all that considered; are you still willing to continue on?

He waited quietly for my answer after finishing.

He had a look of utter seriousness on his face, so focused he was. However, the corners of his eyes and his eyebrows still presented the same calm he’d always displayed. Hence, I couldn’t tell just what exactly was going through his head.

But none of these mattered anymore. I don’t even need to think to answer this question of his.

MC: Of course. Even so, I still wish to continue as usual.

Mo Yi: Why?

MC: You just asked me what’s in my mind as I do this, right? I’m actually not thinking of anything at all; no thoughts, head empty.

MC: I’ve never held onto any pipedreams, nor have I ever thought of using this PUA Group to go fight against the other PUAs.

MC: Granted, trying to rescue all the girls who’ve been victimized is an even bigger delusion.

MC: I’m only trying to do what I can as one, ordinary, Lawyer.

MC: That being said, there’s one thing that I know for certain. And that is that I cannot ignore the crimes that appear before me.

MC: I cannot allow the group that’s backing Li Yu to go scot-free, let alone allow them to challenge law and threaten justice as they so wish to.

Mo Yi: You...

MC: Secondly, you said that I “cannot protect others”; but there isn’t only just one fixed way of protection.

MC: Don't all the girls in Lin Yunyun's mutual aid group learn a lot about all sorts of things pertaining to PUA?

MC: All that's requires is for one of those girls to understand these through what I've done; so that they'll keep their guards up and watch out for these things.

MC: If so, then everything I've done up till today have already served some sort of purpose in protecting them.

MC: And lastly, about their cars if revenge…

I couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes at the mere thought of those less than savory messages I'd received.

MC: I've already been prepared to face all sorts of people, who come up with all sorts of retaliation methods, since day one of being a Lawyer.

MC: But if really does come down to the point where it gets as serious as you've described, then that's when I'll wield the Law as my weapon and protect my own rights.

MC: The road to justice will always be a rocky one, but no one can stop me so long as I refuse to give up.

Mo Yi: ……

I blurted out everything that I had in my mind, even forgetting to check just what sort of expression Mo Yi currently wore.

It was only until I had regained my bearings that I looked back up at him. He was still looking at me with a serious look on his face, yet his eyes were like that of stormy seas.

Mo Yi: You… You’re really different from everyone else.

He suddenly laughed.

MC: What are you laughing about, Dr. Mo?

Mo Yi: Nothing. I’m just feeling slightly fortunate, and a little happy.

MC: Fortunate? Happy?

Mo Yi: Yes. Fortunate, that I chose to stay back then; and happy, because… I met you.

Mo Yi: You always never fail to surprise me.

MC: ……

He spoke slowly, but that didn't fail to impede the strength and impact that each word brought.

It was almost as if he had just conveyed some sort of inexplicable feeling to me through mere words. It was hot, yet full of possessiveness, almost engulfing me whole.

MC: Does this mean that… I can take part in the continuing investigations?

I hurriedly changed the subject upon seeing how the air around us was starting to turn increasingly warmer.

Mo Yi: Do I have any other reason to be denying you?

MC: Great! Then let’s hurry and get started!

MC: Do you need me to contact Wang Chen? Are we still going to be using our previous tactic?

Mo Yi: Don’t rush, for starters. I’ve got even better ideas.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Previous Part: (Chapter 2-6) | Next Part: (Chapter 2-8)

[imagine-loki]

Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 58 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.     RATING: Mature   NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

Loki looked at his brothers apprehensively. “Do I even want to know?”

“I gave ‘Leist that book.” The pride in Helbindi’s features was almost comical. 

“Norn’s save us, are you still going on about such things?” Loki shook his head. 

“Hel, just because you are prudish does not mean the rest of us are.” His younger sibling retorted. “I don’t think you have even read it, have you?” Loki shook his head. “I would have thought you would have wanted to look at it at the very least.”

“If I get curious, I can ask someone with more information than one simple book or do you think there is only one book?” Loki scoffed. Both of his brothers looked at him silently. “You innocent fools.” He shook his head before looking at Býleistr. “Though, I would love to be there when you suggest to your pregnant mate to do such things. And do not even mention your non-pregnant one, the moment you would mention it was from books pertaining to Asgard she would baulk at the mere idea of such so those things are very much wasted on you.” He could see Helbindi about to say something to his side. “No, I will not ask her to try and get some more of those books for you. Have the courage to ask her yourself.”

Helbindi looked at him, crestfallen that Loki had figured out what he had wanted and declined him simultaneously. 

“Now, before you two icicle-brains start arguing over which one of you is better than the other at some stupid thing, I need you both to assist me in rejigging the court some bit.” Helbindi and Býleistr looked at him before looking at one another in confusion at his words. “What?”

“Rejig? But Father…?” Býleistr began. 

“Father allowed too many to talk about him in a manner not befitting his position. They mocked him for the situation with Asgard, the mocked Nal and some even mocked us as his sons. They are too long in their comfortable positions and they need to be reminded that their thoughts on Jotunheim need to be paramount.”

“Loki...please, do not take this wrong brother, but do you think this to be wise? Some may think this to be Asgard’s doing.” Býleistr worried that Loki would react angrily to his comment. 

“Do you see any Aesir present?”  Loki challenged. 

“What about Ella, surely, you would want to discuss this with her, see what she thinks?” Helbindi urged. 

“Yet Ella is not here, this is something we are to discuss,” Loki’s tone was clipped, showing he would not be swayed. Býleistr and Helbindi looked at one another again, sharing a look of deep concern. “Firstly, I want Morven removed, he wants nothing more than to descend us into war and discourse once more.”

Helbindi had been about to dispute such but was forced to acknowledge that it was true. “Father kept him around though.”

“Because Father remembers him being his friend in their youth, time has changed him and not for the better. Then there is the matter of Olvaldi.”

Býleistr swallowed anxiously. “Loki…” 

“He is belligerent and often argumentative but he would die for Jotunheim and the throne and it’s meaning, even if he is not overly fond of who is sitting on it.” Loki paced as he spoke. “He needs to be promoted.”

His brothers frowned. “What?”

“Given a better role. You know what promoted is, surely?”

“But you just said we were removing Jotnar from court?”

“Rejigging, not solely removing. We reward those loyal to Jotunheim.”

“I think that’s a good decision.” Býleistr declared, Helbindi nodding immediately in agreement. “I do not like him on a personal level but there is none other I would say would be as loyal, that was what I was going to argue.”

“That is decided then. We also need to discuss a few other matters.” Loki continued to pace. 

“Brother, is everything alright, you seem very….agitated.” Helbindi braved asking the question that both brothers were very much thinking.

“I am fine, I just want this done as fast as is Jotnarly possible,” Loki explained. He did not wish to tell his brothers but he was desperate to return to his rooms to be with his mate. Since Ella declared her intent to raise their child in the Jotnar manner, he felt even more of an urge to ready their rooms with her for their child. An urge to beginning readying them had taken over not just one of them but both and the idea of her even using her seidr to do it made him anxious. He felt he should be there with her. 

Helbindi and Býleistr looked at one another sceptically, neither wanting to press him further but both thinking the same thing, he was not fine. They listened to him speak for a time longer, interjecting with points of information they felt they should add though for the most part, to them, it seemed as though Loki was merely giving them some sort of preview of his upcoming announcements to court out of courtesy more than anything. 

Loki’s mind was on other matters. Ella had bestowed her third ever Aesir manner of affection on him whilst she thought him to be sleeping. The first had been due to his demand to be taught such on Vanaheim, the second at his departing for the war and going by the slightly startled look on her face that he had caught her doing so, he could tell that her decision to do so the night previous had been entirely spur of the moment and unplanned leading to her reaction to him looking at her. The act itself, as before, he felt was peculiar and made absolutely no sense but he felt the affection she was trying to express. There had been genuine feelings in it. He was unsure if it was because of the matter of discussion with regards to their child and the hormones of carrying their child that made her feel that way or did she feel something for him more than he thought her to. He wished to return to their rooms and in some manner speak with her on the matter. She always declared that she would remain honest with him and he knew that would remain true even on an awkward discussion. “Any questions?”

“Did you really not discuss any of this with your mate?” Helbindi asked. “Because you sound more like her for part of this.”

“Of course, I did. Do you think me so stupid as to not heed her council? What manner of melted ice do you take me for?” Loki shuddered. “She ensured my assessments of all discussed were accurate before I made plans for them, lest we be wrong and after they are altered into their new roles, she will ensure none of those who were downsized, per se, will be of issue.”

“How?” Býleistr asked worriedly.

“You forget, Brother, how my mate came to retrieve you from the other palace. If she wishes to find herself in a location that she is not welcome, she merely sees it as a playful challenge to get there,” Loki smirked proudly. 

“You would risk your pregnant mate like that?” Býleistr baulked at the idea. 

Loki laughed at the manner in which Býleistr posed the question. “Do you think I would risk my mate and my son in any manner? Do you think I would risk the wrath of Asgard were she to be harmed in any way by something I permitted to occur? That I would endanger the life of my son, my flesh and blood, my heir for anything?”

“But you said…?”

“Brother, you need to really cease assuming my mate is not the most powerful of seidr-wielders. Acknowledge that she did take the great Gungnir, one of the most powerful magical weapons in existence from the grasp of the Allfather himself and use it with such ease that she did not risk our son whilst tripling the size of our home. She will do all of this from the safety of my side. She will be in my company as she does so and others if required for alibis. She and I have discussed this at length so there is no concern for her safety.”

“I am not so sure about this, it cannot be that easy for her.”

“I think ‘Leist is starting to care for Ella.” Helbindi joked before his face fell. “Though, I don’t think you have to be as worried this time, I don’t think she’d look at him if he was the last Jotnar on Jotunheim.” Býleistr scowled at him. “Ella will keep an eye on them.”

Loki knew that was true but even the idea of another even looking at Ella caused a surge of jealously to rise through him. Ella would bever do as Angrboða did and he knew it. He remembered Ella’s sadness on his behalf when she heard what Angrboða had done to him. Thinking of Angrboða made him feel nothing, something that he was after realising. Not anger, upset, nothing. When he thought of Ella, he felt as though the mere idea of her caused him to feel better. He could not recall when it happened that he cared so greatly but he did not mind, especially as her actions of affection came to the fore of his thoughts once more. As soon as Býleistr and Helbindi said that they understood everything he had dictated, he dismissed them and rushed back to his rooms. When he got there, Ella was eyeing everything in an analytical manner. 

“What do they think?” She asked, without turning to look at him. 

“They agree with most of what I said, though not everything.”

“That is not a bad thing. You do not want or indeed require two ‘Yes Men’. You want them to have their own minds and thoughts and to bounce them off your own. That way you get the best possible viewpoint on everything.” She finally turned to look at him. “Are you alright?” She asked, noting the look on his face. 

“Perfectly fine. I just wish for us to organise this room somewhat so it is ready for our child.” 

Ella eyed him sceptically for a moment before deciding that if he had anything he wished to say, he would do so. “I have an idea.” Thinking it better to simply show him, she walked over to him and used her seidr to show the room as she envisioned it altered. “What do you think?”

“Overall, good.”

“But?” Ella asked curiously.

Seeing her willing to listen to his suggestions, he smiled. “I wish I could show you as easily.”

“It would have its upsides but I guess we will have to just talk about it instead as we go like normal beings.”

Loki jestfully rolled his eyes in response earning a playful slap. Not even stopping to think about it, Loki pulled his mate towards him and growled playfully at her before bringing her in against him and placing his hand to her stomach where their son was growing, the slight nudge against his hand making him feel even more protective of his family. “So, let’s see if this will work.”

[elytrafemme]

filtered back through my nightmare.analysis tag and now i’m thinking about 30!ranboo again. Girl Help. 

i’ve stated before that i think his primary tragic flaw is his overprotection. it’s how he killed 30!wilbur, after all, and it’s a consistent part of him that permeates his way of life. but if i re-examine that, honestly, it’s a flaw that comes with its benefits, too. so i’m sitting and wondering if maybe he has a different, ultimate tragic flaw.

and now i’m thinking about how 30!ranboo, at least in my perception (which is so heavily AU-ed off what we got in canon that it may be worthless to anybody but myself), has a lot of misunderstandings with other people. not in the sense that they don’t communicate, but in the idea that there are so many people on the server that he just. doesn’t understand. and conversely, don’t understand him.

because he has 30!philza, right? the two of them are approaching this apocalypse in a serious sense, and they’re working together to build a sanctuary and get limited resources to survive. in conjunction with 30!tubbo, too, but he’s not relevant yet. we see that 30!philza and 30!ranboo have this close connection, up until 30!philza’s death.

because, as an undead voice, 30!philza has more liberty to distrust the living. he dislikes 30!jack. he wants him dead, even-- for understandable cause, because 30!philza has a lot of people he cares for that he doesn’t want dead, 30!ranboo included-- but 30!ranboo doesn’t understand that. he doesn’t want to hurt anyone or, gods forbid, kill them. throughout their (canotical) talk, with lines like “time isn’t meant to be exciting” and discussing / disagreeing on when and how 30!tubbo would die, there’s a lot of disconnect. and that’s not a terrible thing, really. it’s not. 

30!jack is another character who-- and this is entirely headcanon-ed, just, for the record-- i don’t think 30!ranboo understands. he half tries, which is more than most other people do, seeing as 30!tommy and 30!sneeg may be the only other ones to give him the time of day, but 30!ranboo doesn’t understand him. it’s easy to write that off as nobody understanding him. it doesn’t change all that much. 

30!sneeg. someone who 30!ranboo has a slight bond with, but neither of them really get where the other is coming from. 30!sneeg is solitary, and 30!ranboo is not. there’s 30!slimecicle, too, which would segue me into my whole talk about whether i think the 30 day SMP cast is religious or not but that’s a whole other discussion-- essentially, not enough time or foundation to understand each other. and 30!wilbur, who 30!ranboo can’t understand-- he speaks cryptically and yet brightly, and he died too soon, and 30!ranboo doesn’t get it. it was a misunderstanding, maybe, that killed him.

and then, we get 30!tommy. the person who, out of everyone, 30!ranboo understands the least.

it’s all they bicker about. from the beginning of the end to the last thirty seconds, the two of them cannot understand each other. there’s so much about 30!ranboo that makes him an outlier, to 30!tommy, especially when it pertains to the company he keeps. and for 30!ranboo, here is 30!tommy, this- this practical god, really, who has all this information withholded even when there’s no point to withhold it. 30!ranboo can’t fathom what he could possibly do even if he did understand 30!tubbo’s curse, or why they’re here at all, or anything. but 30!tommy is far too afraid to say anything. 

they fight. and if 30!ranboo lived any longer, they’d probably fight until the end of time. if we’re looking deeply into this, they likely both find each other pathetic for entirely different reasons that, if you squint at them, look the exact same. 

even when they make their peace, just so the two of them can spend their last moments in this world content, this gap is never breached. they never get each other. 

and i emphasize all this for the simple reason that, it’s lonely! it’s lonely, not understanding where people are coming from, or what they want-- with you or with anything! it’s fucking terrifying in a world where you have to rely on people to share the scarce resources you have! it’s horrifying, even, when you don’t know anyone in the first place, and you’re 30!ranboo and you have company, you always have, and yet you’re alone most of the time! what’s a dead man up at the fishing pond going to do if 30!tommy decides he wants you dead? what’s 30!tubbo going to do without him? what’s he going to do without 30!tubbo?

and that takes us to the last person: 30!tubbo. the only, only person that 30!ranboo feels like he understands, and the only person who makes him feel understood. the two of them are on the same page, and they’re okay-- mostly, anyway. and 30!ranboo isn’t left guessing. 

(except the times where he has to fight, tooth and nail, to save 30!tubbo. over and over again. except for the times where 30!tubbo presses his hand against the blistering border and 30!ranboo has to heal it. except for the almost certain yearning he has to escape, something 30!ranboo has long since given up. this hope and this desolation, combined, when 30!ranboo has forsaken anything but defeat. 

he doesn’t understand that. but if that’s the only thing he doesn’t understand, then it hardly matters. 

he can keep 30!tubbo alive, and that’s something he will always know to do. 

the rest hardly matters.)

[mypersonmyg]

Reader keeping secrets from ________ Reader leading a double life a an underground artist and ________ has no idea but is a fan? Sorry that’s all I can come up with on short notice lol Hope you have fun writing whatever you work on! 😀

Pairing: Taehyung x tagger!reader

WC: 1.7k

Genre: artist au

Rating: pg

Warnings: None. 

A/N: I may do a part 2 if you want. Idk, I’m just tired.

“Did you see?” You glance up  from your laptop as Taehyung walks through the front door, eyes glued to his phone. When you don’t respond he looks up expectantly and you shrug your shoulders with a tilt of the head. “Purple Panda tagged last night and it’s all over my feed.”

“Oh, cool.” You glance back down at your laptop, never interested in having lengthy conversations with your boyfriend about his favorite local artist and their hidden identity. “I’m kinda feeling pizza tonight, are you in?”

“Did you hear what I said?” He takes a seat on the arm of the couch and presses a kiss against the crown of your head. You hum continuing to type against your keyboard without pretense.

“Yeah, artist, tag, social feed. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with this person,” You lower your screen and angle yourself toward him. “Sure they’re amazing at what they do, but what they do is also pretty illegal.”

Taehyung pulls his lip into a contemplative pout, his hands coming to massage your shoulders, the feeling relieving the tension that had taken over your muscles. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, the sound of Yeontan’s feet patter occasionally across the floor. 

“Why don’t you like them?” You’re caught off guard by the sudden question, never having said anything about your personal feelings. 

“What do you mean? I never said that.”

“True, but you’re always telling me that I shouldn’t invest so much time in this and you can’t help but to constantly point out the lack of legality in their work.” You huff, pushing yourself from the confines of the couch cushions and onto your feet. Taehyung is hot on your trail as you head to the kitchen, grabbing your keys from the counter.

“I don’t hate them, I just don’t think you should invest so much time in trying to discover a person who doesn’t want to be discovered. They have a pseudonym for a reason and that reason is not for you to try to expose their true identity.” It had become a sort of hobby for Taehyung to try and crack the code of Purple Panda. He enjoyed their art so much that he figured finding them would be next best to actually creating the pieces himself. 

He followed every lead that filled his social feeds and he even roped Namjoon and Jimin into the whole ordeal. You on the other hand were content with knowing nothing of this person aside from what they paint on buildings. You’ve tried and failed to get Taehyung to let go of this idea that he could find the elusive artist, but he just poked fun at you for being jealous or asked questions like this one.

“I’m going to go and grab us some pizza, why don’t you watch a movie or something, hmm?” You pat Taehyung’s arm and peck his cheek, your purse being thrown over one shoulder. 

“Yeah, sure.” He stuffs his hands into his pockets and watches you walk out of the house, the door clicking shut behind you. He walks to the front, pacing back and forth near the window to allow himself to watch you pull out of the drive. When he’s sure that you won’t be pulling back in he makes a beeline to the hall closet, Yeontan hot on his trail. “I think I know why she hates Purple Panda so much, Tannie.”

The dog yaps, jumping around Taehyung as he bends to the ground pulling at a box that’s stuffed deep in the junk filled closet. Yeontan nips at his pant legs, like he’s trying to stop Taehyung from completing his task, but Taehyung simply scoops the dog up and cuddles him to his chest. He manages to wrestle the box out with his one free hand and he places Yeontan back into the hall where the dog trots away indignantly.

Taehyung had grown increasingly suspicious of your behavior in the past few weeks and had taken to keeping a close eye on you. His first avenue was to assume the worst, the odd hours in which you’d claim to have errands or plans with friends not making the choice difficult. It was Namjoon’s comforting voice of reason that had talked him down from that ledge and since then he’s been grasping at anything to connect your behavior. 

The latest in his growing suspicions is the way in which you disregard his excitement for his most recent favorite artist. Purple Panda is a tagger, an expert in Taehyung’s opinion, and has been running throughout the city making their mark for the better part of a year now. The first time he’d come to you with full cheeks and his phone resting in his palm you’d been just as excited as him. The new artist becoming a popular topic of discussion between the two of you. 

That had all changed after the first month, when Taehyung had decided that he wanted to meet this infamous tagger no matter what it took. It was a usual night, the two of you cuddled up in bed when he’d shared his plans with you. The way you had stiffened beneath him should’ve been his first clue that something was wrong, but he’d thought nothing of it, the chill that often filled the room a logical enough explanation. 

Now, he had taken notice of your hasty subject changes and how you avoided fully answering any questions he had pertaining to the Purple Panda. In fact, it seemed that the more he dug in the more annoyed you got with him. You weren’t snapping, but there was definitely a slight edge to your voice when you would issue him a response. 

Taehyung had again expressed his beliefs with Namjoon who told him that the best way to find out the truth would be for him to confront you directly. That was when Jimin had opted to butt into the conversation and tell Taehyung that was the worst idea.

“She’s not just gonna come and tell you flat out. You have to be smarter than her, do a little sleuthing and wait until you have proof.” This idea sounded much more appealing to Taehyung, perhaps because it allowed him to put his detective skills to the test though he would never admit the underlying excitement. So he’d taken to paying extra close attention to you when you left and when you came home. The way you reacted to different questions and conversations.

When he’d spoken to you today he noted a twitch in your nose, a tell-tale sign that you were keeping something from him. Over the past weeks he had picked up on your routine. You would come into the house and sometimes immediately open the closet door before coming to greet him and oftentimes open it again before you left. One of these times he stepped into the closet and looked for any sign that you’d disrupted one of the multitudes of storage boxes piled into the tiny space.

He’d spotted a box slightly protruding from the back and pulled it out immediately to find that there was nothing inside save for an old dirty rag. He figured that whatever you were taking whenever you left the house must be kept in that box. If he was as good a detective as he liked to believe he guessed that the box would be filled with spray paint. He intended to sneak out of bed tonight to see if his assumptions were true, but your sudden decision to leave the house gave him a window of opportunity. So here he sits, the box before him, filled with what he hopes is the answer to his mystery. The box is much heavier than the first time he’d come across it which he found a good sign.

“Here goes,” He says to no one in particular, his hand coming to lift the cardboard flap that hid the contents from view. His eyes had involuntarily, his nerves getting the best of him. If what he finds isn’t what he’s expecting he isn’t sure what it could be or how he’ll react.

He takes a deep breath and peers into the box. 

“Gotcha,” He smiles from ear to ear, half used spray paint cans stuffed into a worn duffle greeting him. He lifts one of the cans, a purple one adorning the name of your chosen pseudonym and he smiles at his excellent deductive reasoning. 

When the shock and triumph wears off  he begins to wonder why you would hide something from him. But more importantly how you got into tagging in the first place. You’d told him plenty of times that there were many dangers that came from this form of expression and he can’t imagine a reason why you would put yourself in danger of getting caught. 

He slumps against the wall, tossing a can back and forth between his hands while he thinks. His head snaps toward the front door when he hears you struggling on the other side, the ruffling of your purse and the mumbled obscenities almost bringing a smile to his face. He glances between the door and the paint, contemplating his next move.

Confront or let it go?

He wants nothing more than to confront you, make you tell him why you’d kept it a secret from him, but he’s also certain that there had to be a logical reason and he doesn’t want to pressure you. Just as you’re sliding your key into the door he makes the decision to stuff the paint back into the box and the box back into the closet. 

“Hey, the line was so short today. Lucky us!” You hold the pizza you’d purchased out and he takes the box with a smile. “What have you been up to?”

“Nothing, just trying to find out more about Purple Panda.” He watches you visibly flinch, covering it with a smile as you lead him to the kitchen. “I was kind of thinking you’re right though.”

“Yeah? About what?” 

“If they want to be discovered then they’ll do it in their own time.” 

“I’m glad to hear it.” You send him a smile and slide the pizza onto the table. Taehyung slides into his chair and grabs your hand placing a gentle kiss against your knuckles. 

“And I will wait forever if that’s what it takes.”