#I can't possibly be expected to do any work under these conditions

[the-busy-ghost]

Getting up early has become my new 'bringing things to do on the train', in that I made an effort to start getting up earlier to achieve a load of things on my list and instead I'm just sitting here vegetating and am reluctant to start any of the tasks in case it cuts into my essential Looking Out Of The Window Time

[futureplayboibunnie]

Aphrodesiacs Pt. 9

Miguel O’Hara x fem!spidey reader 

You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?

horny and angsty? yes pls.

NSFW. 18+.

Miguel wasn't lying

He didn't let you leave your apartment for the entire weekend.

You definitely weren't complaining but he wore you out tirelessly for hours on end. He fucked you on every surface, christening each space for his own personal fulfiliment. He bent you over, pressed your knees together, threw you to the floor, sank to his knees- he did everything.

"Tell me you're mine. Scream it for me.”

“Always. I always have been.”

The way you said that stuck with Miguel a lot longer than he was expecting or comfortable with, it rolled off of your sweet tongue with an unbridled ease, like you were meant to say it.

“I always have been.” Miguel frowned as his brain placed further emphasis on what you said.

It started on Friday night and now it's Sunday night, he was half expecting you to kick him out but he was still here...lying in bed with you after an entire weekend of fucking each other senseless. It was the most soul-replenishing and fulfilling weekend he'd ever had. The night was starless, grey, and bleak clouds hung over the sky as if to reflect his mood, straying by the second, the rain flooded and pounded against the curtainless window and his senses. As he glanced over your frame, he saw the New York city skyline bean up yellow and red lights. The rumbling of thunder and the flashes of lightning stopped his thoughts in their tracks as he felt the soft inhale of your breath. Your naked body pressed into the mattress, the white sheets covering you in slivers.

Even when you were sleeping you looked so effortlessly beautiful. Miguel glanced at the alarm clock on your bedside table, it was 2 AM. It was Monday tomorrow. That's when reality set in. His work, the pressure of his job, to control that many people and make sure the multiverse was safe. Miguel frowned at the thought. He wanted to spend the rest of his nights here with you, lying in bed with you and watching you breathe. But he loves being Spiderman, he was attached to what he had to do even if he didn't like it, he was so conditioned to doing his job he never once considered what a normal life could be like after what Gabriella- then you came along, destroying any semblance of peace he had left. You mumbled something unintelligible as you sprawled out even further. Your slender hands slid under the pillow, he kept staring at you like a lovesick fool, filled to the brim with anxiety and desperation as he quietly brooded. He felt like you caught him when he saw your eyelashes flutter. A lazy smile played on your lips. You definitely caught him.

“Go to sleep.” You muttered like you were scolding a small child, opening your eyes fully to see Miguel solemn and brooding.

“Can't.” He clipped, raking a hand through his already messy hair. Your mood changed exactly as he did, you flashed him a concerned look. Miguel always found a way to sabotage himself, to find the bad in every spot he was in and you were tired of it. You leaned down on your elbows, pursing your lips in confusion.

“Talk to me.” You say gently but all Miguel could hear was a sensual deity whispering sweet nothing.

Miguel was conflicted, a surge of sadness washed over and tightened his chest but he was very determined not to show it, his eyebrows creased in determination. Trying hard to keep the front he's manufactured over the course of many brutal and unforgiving years, being cold and distant was the only thing he knew to be even if it was you that was trying to pry it out of him. He couldn't just change overnight, not for you, not for anyone but part of him wanted to be better, to be better for you. Miguel's jaw ticked as he mumbled, attempting to conceal the fact that he wasn't particularly in a talkative mood- but you were nothing but persistent.

“Please?” Your hand went to reach out and lay on his chest but he stopped you before you could even touch him, he gripped your wrist and stared at you, his demeanor drastically changing. His grip was tightening and your eyes widened slightly, confused and concerned.

“Don't.” He said softly but stern enough that you got the message, his eyes were gleaming with a faint hue of red. You cocked an eyebrow at his behavior, after an unforgettable weekend, he was acting like you were a stranger- like all your use to him was sex, He was going to treat you like crap when you got to your normal life again. You frowned at the thought as you snatched your wrist back.

“What happens now?” You whisper woefully, a sad look ashening your beautiful face- the moonlight kissed your features perfectly.

"We go back to strangers, hating each other?” You say bitterly.

“What? No.” He shot you a look mixed with confusion and anger as if what you said was stupid.

“So we don't hate each other anymore, we fucked and we're gonna go back to work and act like nothing happened?”

“'I just- I don't know.” His answer didn't dampen your straying frustration at him, you pursed your lips in anger. mere idea.

“This was a one-time thing? So I'm just gonna go back to fucking other guys?” You raised an eyebrow at him, slightly peeved at the idea.

Miguel was internally devastated that you even thought to mention that, his body stilled with rage at the image of someone else touching you the way he did. It was as if his heart was being strangled by your bare aching fists. He wanted to grab you, flip you over and fuck you until his hips fracture but instead, he stayed brooding in silence, a storm brewing in his head.

Miguel's hand shot out and grabbed your cheeks, squishing them together as his talons dug into your skin slightly, you gave him an unimpressed look as he pulled your body closer to his. “No.” He said harshly, completely dismissing the idea of you going out and hooking up with other people like he had that sort of power over you. “Absolutely not.” Although you were pissed at him right now, your body was feeling entirely different, your pussy throbbed. You adjusted yourself, trying to stifle your arousal but it got ten times worse when your nipples brushed and hardened at the slightest contact of the mattress. Miguel was psychoanalyzing your every move, his gaze didn't soften at all, He liked that you were still in heat, even more so when you were trying to suppress it. You were confused when you saw him get up from the bed and then sit at the foot of it, his back facing you, looking more and more pissed with every passing moment.

"Come here.” he turned his head a fraction, enough for you to see slivers of red in his eye.

"Are you kidding?” You scoffed.

“Do I look like I'm asking?” His voice was mean and cold, a ruthless sharp vibration in your ears. Your body ached at the sound of his voice alone.

You were still bitter as you crossed your arms defensively. You rolled your eyes at him and decided to give into his unexplained whims, you got out of the bed with a huff and walked around it, Your naked body gleamed in the moonlight as you stood in front of him, Miguel's eyes were steely and din, unamused by your constant disrespect, asking the questions he didn't want to think about let alone answer, He hated that you brought up the idea of fucking other people and he hated the way he felt about it. This weekend was pleasure and pain combined- he made you feel euphoric, keeping you at that edge and then pummelling you. It was pain but it was perfect pain. Now you were pissing him off and he wasn't in the mood to be delicate and easy. He wouldn't give you the courtesy of telling you what he was going to do to you, he just wanted to do it.

You bit your lip as you stared down at him, he looked up at you like you were a dirty little whore acting unattainable- how ironic.

Miguel's palms traced over the dip of your waist softly and you pursed your lips slightly, acting unbothered. He hated it. we wanted to shock you, his right hand spanked your ass harshly, the sound ripped through the air and you gasped. You were his helpless little whore. Instead of talking about his feelings, he was gonna fuck it out of himself instead.

“Turn around and sit on my lap.” He demanded coldly, the look in his eyes was one of silent fury, His face sere slashes of rough arousal and boiling anger, Your eyes went from half-lidded annoyance to a bewildered shock, he liked it. you unhinged your jaw to say a smartass remark but he raised his eyebrow and that subdued you immediately, you turned your back to him and sat on his lap.

Your back facing his front, your ass nudging his already hard cock. Before you could even properly adjust, he hooked his hands under your thighs and pulled them up, your legs dangling off of his arms. a breathy moan escaped from your throat and Miguel's lips were pressed against your ear.

“I'm going to fuck you like this and you're gonna shut up and not bitch to me, understand cariño?” His hot breath landed on your ear, goosebumps rising at the shell of it. You hung your head back and it landed on his broad shoulder, moaning already.

“Yes, I understand.” You breathed softly. Miguel lowered your down on his cock, plunging into you and stretching you out until the his fangs licked and bit at your shoulder blade. “Ah- M-Mig-“ He pummelled into you roughly, bouncing you up and down as his fangs bit your shoulder blade.

“Run that fuckin mouth again, mention any other guy you fucked and I'll bully your cunt until you're fuckin sobbing, get the picture?” He groans raggedly, biting into your shoulder, specks of blood seeping out of your skin as he bounces you up and down.

“O-Okay! I get it...” You stuttered out, moaning like a bitch in heat as he plowed into you even harder, your slick running down your thighs. Your hands flew back and tangled in Miguel's hair, pulling hard and rubbing his neck.

“You're clenching so hard querida...my horny little bunny g'na make a mess on my cock over and over and over again.” He mumbled drunkenly in your ear, the sound of wet skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room. His words shot straight to your aching pussy, sweat dripping down the valley of your tits as Miguel kept manhandling you like a little fuckdoll. The tightening coil in your lower gut snapped as you came, dripping all down his cock and thighs. Throughout this past weekend, Maguel had taken you in any which way but he was way more harsh and pissed this time around. You withstood it all happily. As you clamped down harder Miguel's grip had gotten tighter, bouncing you up and down harder. with that one final thrust and clamp, it didn't take long for him to finish, his hot cum spilling out of you. His groans were your favorite kind of music, it echoed through the chasms of his throat.

But Miguel didn't stop, he kept bouncing you up and down, overstimulating you and fucking you through your Earth-shattering orgasm.

“Miguel- It's spilling out.” You warn meekly but your voice gets lost.

“I don't care. I'll be done with you when I want to be done with you. Now shut up and take it.” He grits between clenched teeth, his jaw setting in anger. He kept going and going, stretching you out, hitting that spot he'd hit so many times in the past two days, spot you never even knew existed before him. You milked him dry and he stilled, sparks lighting under your skin.

Miguel's grip on you softened, letting go of your legs, your feet now settling on the ground, his dick still plugged in you. Both of you were softly panting, your breaths mingling as you leaned your head back on his shoulder, mouth slack and lazy. Both of you were still full of conflicting emotions, but it still wasn't properly released. The passion clouded both of you and it made you feel hazy enough to forget about it during the collision of your bodies, but after as you got a chance to breathe- the thoughts and feelings came back up again. Your hair was wild and messy, your body limp in his arms. Miguel wrapped his arms around your waist as you nested between his legs, he softly kissed the shell of your ear but you weren't buying what he was selling. This sudden act of soft affection after he quite literally fucked you full of anger and pent-up frustration- there was something he wasn't telling you but you were afraid to find out.

An embittered look carved onto your face, and that's when you stood up and got off of him, Miguel raised an eyebrow at what you were doing. Your naked body shimmered as the pale moonlight outside lit you up, you were acting unbothered again and he really fucking hated it. “What are you thinking?” He murmured with restraint, leaning back on his hands.

"Gonna take a shower.” you said softly, but your tone was almost as if you were talking to an acquaintance, not a man you gave your entire body to.

You went into the bathroom of your room, turning the light on and then the shower. Miguel watched you intently as you moved swiftly, closing the door- like you were locking him out. A frown settled on his face. He heard you step into the shower, a faint smell of citrus shampoo traveling through the cracks. Miguel sat with himself for a few minutes and decided that he didn't want to stay here alone. Miguel stood up and opened the bathroom door, steam flowing into the bedroom and circulating at the tips of the ceiling.

The glass casing of the shower made for a perfect view of your slick and wet body. Your hands were doing their work shampooing your hair, your ass looked even more perfect. The soap flowed out of your hair with ease, your fingers squeezing out the excess. you heard a slight shift that made you whip your head around, it was Miguel. “Can I join you?” he says uncharacteristically gently.

“Sure.” You said with a lazy smile. He was pleased that you let him get close to you, he loved being near you any way he could, watching you like a lovesick fool. You looked so natural, so pretty.

Miguel slid open the glass door and stood next to you in the shower, in your element, and for a strange reason Miguel wanted to take care of you. You flashed him a bashful look, throwing your head as a signal for him to get under the stream, he did, letting the water flow to all corners of his body, strands of hair stuck to his forehead, he raked a hand through his hair to slick it back. You were gawking at Miguel, seeing how his muscles tensed under the shower, the water flowing down his abs effortlessly. You blinked up at him dumbly and Miguel caught onto It.

“Mind if I-?” Miguel was acting like a horny teenager, even though he's literally fucked you sideways, in an intimate setting like this- he was nervous. He squeezed some shampoo into his palm and rubbed his hands together, lathering it. You nodded softly, turning your back on him, you were still quite far away though. He didn't like that, Miguel pulled your hair back so you could stumble back a few steps, your ass making contact with his cock. Miguel didn't even let you be surprised about it when he started massaging your scalp. It buzzed your body alive, you hummed appreciatively as his big hands raked through your hair.

“Mmmm...I didn't think you'd ever be domestic.” you say with a raised eyebrow, looking slightly defensive and miguel just huffed.

“I'm not..” His tone was clippy and you didn't like it.

"Yeah..”

You shrug him off and go under the stream, twisting your hair so the soap suds and water drain out of it, you didn't give his the privilege of eye contact. You couldn't deny that you were a little sad that once morning rolled around, he would leave and you would go back to working at HQ, ignoring each other.

-

next chapter is gonna be the last!

-

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[pearlzier]

⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🐾 ★

pairing : carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary : carm is fucking flabbergasted to hear you've never had a proper valentine's day, let alone a special meal. so he has to rectify it as soon as possible.

word count : 2.28k

tags: the bear, jeremy allen white, fluff, valentine's day, carmen berzatto, carmy berzatto, established relationship, awkward carm <3, BEST MAN EVER.

a/n: got this idea from @aliaugustaa, i thought it was so cute so i just had to do it :3 who needs an irl valentines when u have ur little chef man, making sure u know u deserve the best amiright.

it all started when carmen had overheard you, syd and tina talking. he'd been in his office, trying to get some work done with the door slightly ajar, considering the air conditioning in the room was shit, when the three of you had struck up a conversation. he hadn't paid much attention to it. he occasionally tuned into the sound of your voice, of course, but the details of the words you were saying remained mostly lost on him.

until he heard the mention of ‘valentine's day’ come from tina. fuck. if he had to be honest, it'd been years since he'd last.. celebrated? valentine's day? before you, he didn't actually have any reason to do anything for it. carmen avoided the day like the plague, actually, with the bare minimum being done in terms of heart themed menu times. but even he knew that you would've been expecting a valentine's gift from him, right? you two had been dating for what, nearly a year now, so he had to think of something.

that started his panic in terms of what he was going to get you. he had no fucking clue. but what took him out even more was your words, as you leant against the counter with your notepad: “valentine's day is so overrated,” okay.. “i haven't had a valentine since i was like, fifteen, and i'm perfectly fine.”

perfectly fine.

his blue eyes darted quickly to the calendar on his desk, fixing onto ‘february 14th’ almost instantly. he can't bite back a smile at the heart you'd drawn around the date, with ‘v-day’ scrawled messily on it. but all the cuteness aside, he had.. one week. he didn't need to do anything amazing for you, no, considering you did think the holiday was overrated, however he felt there was an unsworn duty for him to prove to you that you were special, and deserved the best.

he sorted the week that he had left into phases. there were four phases, all of them intricately, messily, planned to ensure you'd have a great day. and he'd managed to do all of it right under your nose.

of the four phases, first came the easiest one. slowly easing you into the idea of valentine's day. you weren't stupid, no, you were quiet observant and god knows you would've picked up on any new behaviours from your boyfriend, so he had to try to integrate the day of love into work first.

convincing everyone to mention valentine's day, not obsessively, but repetitively to try get it into your routine wasn't difficult. it was a restaurant, for god's sake, of course they'd have some sort of valentine's menu, right?

so he got marcus to start making some particularly love themed desserts — “uh, sure. don't mind it.” you hadn't seemed to pay much attention to the ginormous order of cupid stickers out back, which worked heavily in his favour.

“yo, cousin, don't worry. she'll be walkin’ ‘round with the whole ass arrow by the time i'm done,” — richie was just as eager to get you in a lovey-dovey mood, with his passing comments about how eva was a total bachelorette and that all the kids in her class were gonna be throwing presents onto her desk.

there was no way to tell whether that was true or not. no one really asked.

“hey, cool, i'm feeling it,” — tina was also happy to help, being overly lovey with you around the restaurant. it was quite unlike her, but still, you didn't mind the affection. little hugs, forehead kisses from dear aunt tina weren't that bad.

“she's gonna realise that we're going overboard,” — syd was the most reluctant. she'd have much rather told you about what they were doing, as opposed to keeping it a secret. however carm was good at convincing her, and it was for a good cause too. so, she let it slide, pushing the valentine's agenda with little doodles of cupids or hearts on her menu designs. you liked them.

so that was phase one done. pretty simple, if carmy says so himself. and you didn't mention anything about it. perfect. he felt a little weird keeping something from you, but, of course, it was a good cause, right?

with phase one completed, he had to move onto phase two. this one was probably his second favourite of all of them. bringing valentine's into the house. valentine's day was all about love. he loves you, of course. it was the reason why he was doing all of this in the first place. so he thought the best way to do this phase was to get you in the mood.

you were very clearly confused by the romcom that was playing on the tv screen when he ushered you into the living room, but you didn't ask many questions considering how tired you were. “carm,” you began, brow furrowing, before you shrugged, moving over to settle on the couch. tilting your head over to the direction of the kitchen, your eyes found carmy bringing over the chinese takeout. it'd been a while since you two had indulged in it, but he knew full well it was your favourite. “you're the best,” his smug little smile told you a lot, but not about his little scheme and its phases.

“i know, babe,” he hums, bringing over the tray and settling it onto the coffee table. carmen shuffled over, settling onto the couch beside you, gently lifting your box onto your lap before he took his own. it wasn't unlike him to take care of you like this, but there was something more tender in how he was helping you. sweet, yes, but it was making you a tad bit suspicious. “you okay?” he asked softly, voice gentle and low, as a small little smile played on his lips.

“mhm,” you nodded, just snuggling beside him with the takeout box in your grasp. you two usually didn't watch romcoms, usually finding a good drama or sitcom however you didn't mind it. this one in particular was quite good.

and besides, carmen having his arm slung around your waist as you two ate was a perfect feeling. so despite your suspicions, you let him have this moment without asking him.

that was phase two done. not too shabby, really. richie and, actually, literally everyone in the bear was a tad bit sick of carmen's rambling about how amazing you were. they literally all knew it, since you were their colleague, but god, could this man talk.

the third phase was one that carmy realised perhaps should've come earlier. it was just getting you things that you liked, without you realising. which was harder than it sounded, considering carmen was shit at keeping things from you, and you were usually the one who looked at orders to the apartment. so he needed the help of his sister, natalie. she was so eager to help that it was a little overwhelming. “so what do they like anyway?” natalie asked as she pushed the cart beside carmen, eyes flickering over to his in curiosity. “bear?”

he was uh, stressing. he loved you so much, and—well, “god, sugar, i love her—” he ran a hand through his curls, eyes widening as soon as he saw the giant valentine's day display in the store. a quiet groan slipped past his lips and he bit his knuckles for a moment, glancing desperately over at his sister. “peach deserves the fuckin’ world, y'know? just wan’ make it special for her,” the pity, and adoration, in natalie's gaze softened her eyes immediately and she gave him a quick pat on the back.

“right,” it was her personal mission now to ensure that you and her brother had a perfect day on valentine's. she was sure of it. a small little grin played on her lips as she ushered him over to the display, and she leant against the cart. “okay, what would she like? something lovey? sentimental?”

“don't fuckin’ know,” carmen muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple as he looked over the many valentine's themed things available. holy shit, this was harder than he thought. he knew you so well and yet, what you'd like evaded him.

“okay, well,” natalie picks up a random white teddy bear, brows raising in question as she offers it to her brother. he grabs at it, squeezes it perhaps a little too hard out of frustration but slowly relaxes his tight grip on it. “okay, that one's going in.”

the shopping trip continued like this, with natalie suggesting things that she thought you might like, with carmy giving his wordless responses. it was kind of therapeutic for nat, to be fair. and carmen was getting the stuff he needed for you. he'd have to thank natalie after, considering soon after he was done with phase three, he was into the final phase. the actual valentine's gift.

this was probably his favourite part. of course, carmen was a chef by nature. so he knew a valentine's dinner was in order. he was sort of sick of hearing anything related to the saint, however he could relax with this part. he'd made sure that syd would keep you out of the apartment for at least three hours. having even gone to the lengths of giving money for you guys to spend, he was clearly working hard. he knew your palette, so well in fact, that he didn't even think twice about what he was preparing.

from what you loved to eat, to what you despised, carmen knew it all. and he wanted to spoil you in terms of what he made, so he also gave sydney strict instructions that the two of you weren't allowed to get any food. hey, he wanted you to have enough room to eat.

he'd planned everything immaculately, of course, but when he heard you and syd at the door, he almost panicked. the table was laid out perfectly, all of your favourite foods available. a flush filled his cheeks at the thoughts of richie's previous words: “shit, cousin’, you a fuckin’ simp,” rang through his head and he scratched the back of his neck nervously, sitting at the table.

“thanks, syd,” your voice called from down the hall at the door, your smile evident in your voice. it made the butterflies in his stomach flutter, and he shifted where he sat. “m'back, carm!” you were making your way down the hall now, nearing the living room where you assumed he'd be. he was not. “carm—?”

your brow furrowed, since he'd have mentioned he'd be out if he was going to be. “carm,” you hummed as you wandered into the dining room area, not looking into the room until you did, and your lips parted into an expression of shock. “holy shit.”

you're surprised you didn't burst into literal tears seeing carmen sat at the table, wide blue eyes lifting to yours from the table cloth. his cheeks were rosey, a sheepish expression adorning his lips. “fuck, this is dumb,” he got up, scratching the back of his neck once more, “i know you don't—oh, shit, peach—”

his eyes widened as you barelled into him, wrapping your arms around his frame as his hands slid over your lower back. biting his bottom lip, he lifted a hand to your face, just to see your expression. “oh my god, carm,” tears threatened to spill from your eyes, bottom lip trembling. carmen's expression only softener, and grew a tad bit guilty.

“oh, no, baby, don't cry,” his thumb stroked over your jaw, brow furrowing. carmen soon pressed a peck to your forehead, his hand cupping your lower back and bringing you into his body. “can't eat ‘n’ cry at the same time,” he soothed with a soft chuckle whilst he cradled the back of your head.

“so this is what you were doin’?” your mumbly words come all soft, watery, glossy eyes lifting up to his as you frown. you may be about to cry, sure, but it's for a good reason. “all this time? oh my god, is it because of what i said to syd and tina?”

a sheepish nod followed, his hands brushing away your tears gently. he smiled, nuzzling your nose with his own as he brushed his lips with yours, squeezing you tight against his chest. “uh-huh,” he muttered, “didn't notice earlier?”

“nuh-uh,” god, you felt kinda dumb for not realising. but also glad you didn't, since you wouldn't be as overjoyed as you are right now. you squeeze tight around his waist once more before you drag him back into sitting down. hey, you were hungry considering his little scheme. “god, carm,” you bite your bottom lip, looking over all the food. not to mention the valentine's themes decorations.

“so everyone was in on it?” you lean against the table, watching as carmen dished out your plate for you, his blue eyes lingering on the food before they lifted to yours when he heard your question. he gives a little nod, pushing your plate towards you. then, he pours you a glass of wine, all smiles. “god, that's why—oh my god!”

giddy, absolutely giddy, would describe you right now. over the fucking moon.

“and when you and nat went out? you guys never go out, holy shit,” you grabbed your fork, leaning against the table with a little smile. that smile soon became the biggest grin he'd ever seen. “babe, this is too much,” you frowned, gaze all fond.

“wait till you see the gifts,” he mumbled around a spoonful of pasta, avoiding your gaze and focusing on his plate.

“carmen!”

[literaryvein-reblogs]

how to write characters with muteness/mutism? (i hope i'm using the right words)

Both words may be used :) Mutism seems to be the more frequently used term in research and clinical settings.

Character Development: Mutism

Mutism - an inability or unwillingness to speak, resulting in an absence or marked paucity of verbal output

It is a common clinical symptom seen in psychiatric as well as neurology outpatient department

It rarely presents as an isolated disability and often occurs in association with other disturbances in behavior, thought processes, affect, or level of consciousness

The condition may also be voluntary, as in monastic vows of silence or the decision to speak only to selected individuals

Mutism occurs in a number of conditions, both functional and organic, and a proper diagnosis is important for the management

To write your character with mutism, you may want to begin with their backstory. Below are some types of mutism you could consider.

Types of Mutism

Selective mutism - having the ability to speak but feeling unable to, often because of social anxiety and debilitating shyness

Organic mutism - caused by brain injury, such as with drug use or after a stroke

Cerebellar mutism - caused by the removal of a brain tumor from a part of the skull surrounding the cerebellum, which controls coordination and balance

Aphasia - occurs when people find it difficult to speak because of stroke, brain tumor, or head injury

Additional definition: Selective mutism is characterized by a consistent failure to speak in social situations in which there is an expectation to speak (e.g., school) even though the individual speaks in other situations. The failure to speak has significant consequences on achievement in academic or occupational settings or otherwise interferes with normal social communication.

After determining the possible type/s and/or causes of your character's mutism, below are some characteristics and behaviours. Choose which ones are appropriate for your character. Also determine the frequency and the degree in which these occur.

Some Characteristics of People with Mutism

Social anxiety or shyness outside of the home

Silence that interferes with work or school

Mutism that can't be explained by trouble with language skills

Having experienced trauma

Suddenly becoming silent after speaking regularly

For organic or cerebellar mutism, not being able to speak despite wanting to

For aphasia, mutism can come with difficulty reading, telling time, understanding numbers, and writing

Being silent in social situations outside of the home

Paralyzing anxiety

Using nonverbal communication when spoken to

Asking others to speak for them

Interruptions in daily well-being because of mutism

Is caused by intense anxiety or social phobia

The symptoms interfere with school or work

Difficulty connecting

For Selective Mutism:

Ability to speak at home with family or people they are comfortable with

Fear or anxiety around people they do not know well

Inability to speak in certain social situations

Shyness

This pattern must be seen for at least 1 month to be called selective mutism. (The first month of school does not count, because shyness is common during this period.)

Note: In selective mutism, the child can understand and speak, but is unable to speak in certain settings or environments. Children with mutism never speak. Selective mutism falls under the "Anxiety Disorders" category.

Sample Case Report from this article

A 35-year-old married male was brought by police personnel with chief complaints of not speaking for the last 3 months. The patient had been under trial for the last 6 months for the alleged charge of setting fire in a cowshed. He would not interact with any of the jail inmates. He would however ask for food by non-verbal communication/gestures and would perform all his daily chores normally as reported. He was asked to follow up with family members. History reviewed from wife and elder brother reveled history of 18 years history characterized by violent abusive behavior, wandering behavior, irritability, decreased sleep, restlessness, muttering to self, and at times reporting that other would harm him, associated with withdrawn behavior and socio-occupational dysfunction. On one occasion, he became mute also and did not talk for a period of around 4 months associated with sadness of mood and decreased interest in surroundings. 6 months back, he had symptoms of muttering to self, would often roam about naked and get irritable on minor issues. No other significant history was obtained. MSE revealed decreased PMA, rapport not established, eye to eye contact could not be maintained, he was mute and would communicate nonverbally appropriately. His affect was blank with no facial expressions. All his routine investigations were within normal limits. A diagnosis of schizophrenia was entertained, and he was started on risperidone 6 mg per day and lorazepam 4 mg per day. Gradually the patient started showing improvement in symptoms.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 ⚜ Writing Notes & References

If this inspires your writing in any way, do tag me, or send me a link. I would love to read your work!

[bedoballoons]

I’m back

I’m not sure if you write wlw or nblw/gnlw or anything like that but hear me out

anyway I was thinking, imagine the (fem! Or gn!) mechanic reader (yes my genshin self insert is a mechanic and I’m delulu) with lyney or Furina, or any other characters you wanna add if you want (idk how this works). Where the characters keep breaking things on purpose just so that the reader can come over and fix it and so they get to see reader. The reader catches on and teases the character. (You can make it lead to nfsw or not if you want ;) )

also I’ll give myself an emoji so here’s mine

-💫

I do any forms of relationships as long as they aren't incest or pedophilia! I absolutely love this idea!! I think it's super cute so I hope you don't mind but I decided to make it fluffy!! Enjoy and thank you for requesting <3

P.s Can I call you the starstruck anon?

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂

{༻~Just one more thing before you go~༺}

CW: Super sweet fluff! Reader works as a mechanic and the characters keep calling them up to fix things so they can spend time with them!

(Includes: Lyney, Navia, and Furina!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney kneeled down beside you, trying his best not to get in your way as you worked on the latest broken thing in his home...he just couldn't help it. Whenever he was near you it was like his heart decided to do its own performance, beating faster and skipping whenever your eyes landed on him...because of this sometimes the simple machinery he used in his home...would mysteriously end up not working, "So how goes the fixing hmm? My apologies for having to call you out here again, usually I'd just have Freminet take a look but he's currently busy"

"Seems to me like someone's intentionally sabotaging your heater...they even left the screwdriver inside of it." You turned to him with a sly smirk playing on your features, holding the screwdriver up to him so he could read Freminets name from it. The blush that followed was so adorable you couldn't help but tease him a little, "If you wanted me to spend time with you Lyney, you could have just asked~"

𑁍༄Navia:

"I truly cannot thank you enough for coming to my rescue again. It seems every time you leave the Spina di Rosula has yet another problem to fix...of course it's not particularly a bad thing because I enjoy your company immensely." The beautiful blonde chuckled nervously, trying to get ahold of herself before she ended up confessing her feelings to you, she was honestly shocked she hadn't yet..

"I'm always here whenever you need me Navia, it's definitely not a bad thing for me. I get to hang out with a goregous woman and get VIP treatment from the Spina."

"You're always welcome to anything here at-...I'm sorry did you just call me goregous?"

"Well...I figured since you're always bringing me here to fix things you've clearly sabotaged, it's only fair a make a little advancement myself.~"

The poor girl's face heated up, you'd figured it out? How long had you known?! "I- oh my..."

𑁍༄Furina:

"I truthfully have no idea how anyone expects a archon to live under such conditions, every time I go to use something it's no longer working. If I didn't have you'd I'd surely have left this place for something better by now." Furina talked away while you worked, trying to act as normally abnormal as ever...even though inside her emotions were on a rampage. If only you knew she wanted so desperately to play the part of your lover more than any other role, she'd even sabotaged her own residence so she could see you more often.

"I actually believe I've found a solution to keep things from breaking...if the archon so wished to hear it."

She went dead silent, unable to fathom how you could possibly stop anything in her house from breaking, "The archon wishes to, even someone with my divinity can't even think how a simple human could make something no longer able to break, I'd love to see what maniac idea you've come up with."

"Its actually very easy, all I have to do is ask if you'd like to go out sometime. Then we could spend time together without you needing to break things~"

"I-i what on earth are you talking about? I wouldn't break something just to spend time with someone, I am a archon with a busy life. I don't have the time for such nons-"

"Lady Furina..."

"Yes?"

"You left your glove in the pipe."

"..."

"May I take you out on a date?"

"...yes you may..."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[cloudraker]

heyo! I saw ur post and wanted to ask for tfp decepticons with a winged! S/o

preferably with megatron, soundwave or shockwave and knockout! Like how they would react and act around them, or like how they would use reader to their advantage? (Not in a bad way)

Reader has a long wingspan (18 ft) and is bigger than a normal human? Like smaller than Arcee but bigger than average.

Please tell me if that’s too much for you! And ty! <3 stay safe

Ofc!! And no worries, it's not too much at all :) Thank you sm for requesting <3

TFP Megatron, Soundwave, Shockwave, and Knock Out with a Winged S/o

Under the cut :)

Megatron

Honestly probably doesn't even notice you're any different at first until you start zipping around

I would say that of the four he's the one that cares the least

That isn't to say he doesn't care at all, far from it! He's got more than a handful of schemes, plots, ploys, etc ready to use when the need should arise

Depending on how you fly and such, he might take your movements into consideration when it comes to his own flight or when training troops. The information gets passed on to Starscream for the latter, but he's still aware of it

He doesn't expect you to be able to keep up with him when he's flying, but he will commend the effort

He does expect your wings to be in peak condition; they're one of your defining features and something that he see as putting you above the rest of your species

If you're at all self conscious about your wings, he scoffs and tells you to take pride in what sets you apart. It's not great advice, but it's something

Soundwave

Enjoys running his fingers through your feathers if you'll let him

Despite being in a relationship, he's still got a job to do. If you're up for it, he'll ask you to do recon or survey areas that need to be scouted in a more subtle way

He's not above using your humanity for the benefit of the Decepticons, but he wouldn't knowingly put you in harms way

Of the four, he's got the easiest time helping you groom your wings due to how thin his digits are

He draws comparisons between you and Laserbeak at times, though he does keep those thoughts to himself

Shockwave

Dude has got plans and ploys in place to test things and ideas

At times it might feel like you're more an experiment than a partner

He's always more than happy to run tests on how far you can fly and how fast, how much weight you can carry and for how long/far

He's also rather interested in your biology, pulling up diagrams of a typical human body and comparing it to yours, trying to figure out why you're different

It might be hard to notice, but he's more careful when it comes to tests. It's one of the few ways he has to show he does actually care about you, and doesn't want to see you hurt if it can be avoided

If there's something you want to train towards physically, you can count on him to come up with the most optimal training program possible

He finds it helpful to have you in the lab and having you zip around and collecting tools for him so he doesn't have to step away from his work

He understands the concept of keeping muscles strong, and makes sure you exercise enough if you're keeping him company in the lab

Knock Out

Dude makes sure you know how pretty your wings are

Makes sure you've got every product you'd ever need to keep them in top condition. Don't ask where he got them from tho

Schedules regular sessions where the two of you just preen and gossip

Also finds it super helpful that you can just fly up and reach the spots he can't and buff them out for him

Absolutely admires the strength you have in your wings. The idea that you have to actually flap them and have enough strength to get yourself off the ground is foreign to him as it's super different for Cybertronians

Not a fan of molting tbh. There's feathers everywhere and guh they're everywhere

Will still (reluctantly) help you deal with it tho

Knock Out makes sure you know he thinks that your wings make you much cooler than other people, and is not above making fun of the Autobots for having 'inferior' humans on their side

[charismaofobedience]

what makes you think mikoto is good rep? specifically, what is it about double that convinces you?

Okay okay, it took me some time to perfectly articulate my thoughts on how MIkotos system isn't horrible rep and instead was tackled... Somewhat well? This was also written after me and another friend who's a system discussed this extensively and how our own situations lowkey match the situation Mikoto himself is facing. Under the cut because I did *not* expect this to get so long </3

To start it off with some debunking of things people have been mentioning as "oh but this proves he's not a system" (after Milgram itself confirmed them as one but oh well), the whole thing on how DID only appears during childhood isn't... Really the full truth? The most common thing to happen with DID is, instead, for someone to develop the conditions for it through their childhood, but the symptoms only start showing when older. I myself was a case of that and while it started around my 6 years, we only had our first split at 14. Mikotos just happen to be later. I personally also think that, during the phone call with his mom, there wouldn't just have a random baby crying noise for no reason. He probably developed it that early, but just didn't split until recently, however that's just my own reading and not anything confirmed.

For the point of "but then, why don't the milgram rules work on John if he is indeed the killer? This proves it's Mikoto who killed", just look at irl court cases of systems. The one being judged will always be the host almost all the times, after all, he's the main one who fronts, and not whichever alter committed the murder. The host and body would be the one in jail etc in a real life prison, not the alter who committed it. Milgram is a perfect parallel to that, with Mikoto being restrained and the Es barrier working on him even if he didn't commit any murder while John, the alter and one who committed the crime, doesn't has any restraints or barrier that work on him. Because Mikoto is the host and core of their system, not John.

Second, some quick system terminology. I'll be using the terms host, protector/persecutor and dormancy on this, so for a quick understanding: Host means that, basically, that alter is the one who mainly fronts and takes care of things, may or may not be the core ("original" person), but at Mikotos case I'll assume he's both the core and the host. Protector is what the name implies, they're alters who have as their purpose to protect the system and body. Persecutors just so happen to be protectors who have more drastic means to do things and will inherently be harmful to the system in a way in another, they are not necessarily bad, and might instead just be misguided and think what they are doing is a solution for a issue and that by doing so they're protecting the system. Finally, dormancy is when an alter of a system... Well, goes into dormancy. They can't come to front anymore and will be "asleep" for some time or even forever depending on the conditions. A inclusion is also possible, where two alters (or more) will become one etc, but I don't think that will be the case for Mikoto.

So, as it's settled, Mikoto is the Host and Core of the system and Orekoto/John is the Protector/Persecutor of it. Let's get to the explanation now.

Mikoto's split seemingly very much occurred due to the stress situation he had been feeling from his work. We have John welcoming him home twice through the mv and noticing that Mikoto isn't smiling or anything when coming home anymore and it isn't the only times judging by the "another day" mention. We can see on the second one he's either getting the subway to go home or go to work (probably the first one), but on the first time it's said we get to see Mikoto's phone and, specifically, messages coming through and through.

All the texts are coming from his boss, and from the looks of it Mikoto works for a black company in Japan, so it's no wonder he's stressed and very clearly depressed there. Judging by the time Mikoto would be going back home at midnight and, at that time, he's texted by his boss that he needs to remake a whole product and correct mistakes from another thing for the next day of work, and with "next day" you can bet they mean "when i see you in around 10 hours". For now, this is the main reasoning and sustenance we have for "but why did he split?", aka, Mikoto was under a lot of stress on work and it lingered even when he was home to the point that, eventually, John split as himself and, as himself said, he's got Mikoto, and he could leave it all to him.

By this point I like to think it was already John fronting to reply to the boss call. John got tired of Mikoto overworking himself to the brink of breaking down to appease to his boss and superiors and, wanting to help, came to front to "take it all on" in his own words. I think bringing MeMe up for Double discussion is extremely important because we have to remember that MeMe was visibly only from Mikoto's point of view while in Double we have John telling his own point of view. I don't think Mikoto is lying about not knowing he's a system etc, but instead that Mikoto thinks something is wrong, yes, that he knows whoever this person ruining his life is both not him and him at the same time (mirror scene), but isn't aware exactly that he's a system. John is portrayed as scary and evil and cruel etc in MeMe because that's what Mikoto assumes to be happening, Mikoto doesn't know whatever John is doing and what are his intentions, we knew since them Mikoto is the type of guy to take things happening to him lightly (joking about the milgram situation etc) because he may think he deserves it, and this extended to his work and personal life. Through MeMe we see Mikoto looking sad and not smiling anytime until we got to the ending in the headspace where he's sitting on the couch somewhat smiling, but not looking downright miserable like he is in double because Mikoto's main focus was that there is some scary guy there, not that his work life was putting him under so much strain to the point of splitting. Hell, his work life was never brought up until Double anyways, because Mikoto didn't think it was important and kept playing as if it was cool (even during the call with his mom in Double, as John showed us) and that he could handle it, meanwhile Double has John showing us just how miserable Mikoto looked after work and some situations that would happen on his day to day work, how he never went back home smiling etc. MeMe has a bigger focus on Mikoto, as a Host, not knowing that he's a system and how scary that can feel when you're fully unaware of why you're seemingly doing certain actions that you're not aware of when they're brought up to you, meanwhile Double focuses on his alter, John, telling us about his own motivations and the truth about Mikoto's daily life, showing us that whatever it is he did was to protect Mikoto because being a protector is his role in the system. Mikoto didn't take his issues seriously in MeMe, and in Double John gives us a glimpse on how bad it was. For Mikoto, all of his personal issues were coming from the fact that there was an Evil Scary Serial Killer guy around, while John tells us that nuh uh, it was capitalism all along and he'll protect Mikoto from that stress.

The voice drama also tracks some of these points, such as Es mentioning that Mikoto laughs whenever he's troubled and rarely gets angry or frustrated, ignoring problems, and Es mentioning that John acts more rationally, contrary to what he expected... After all, Es' only views of John came from MeMe as a mv, and then from John getting angry and frustrated as Es because, in the beginning, to John it all felt like people were trying to trouble and hurt Mikoto yet again. He was just doing his job as a protector.

I've seen most people say that the "made me a scoundrel" refers to us, the viewers, but also... I feel it might also just be John talking with Mikoto himself. Mikoto saw John as a evil bad alter on MeMe as we just discussed, and from what we see here... Yes, John is violent and impulsive, but he's still a protector who did things with the goal of "I need to protect Mikoto" in mind. We didn't knew that through the entirety of MeMe because Mikoto himself didn't know, and John might be frustrated that the guilty verdict could have come only because Mikoto portrayed himself in such a way first and foremost. John asks him why he's crying because I'm fairly sure he isn't aware that Mikoto isn't aware of him either. The main issue at play here is the fact their system communication is horrible if not non existent. They can't communicate with each other properly for some reason even through writing etc, so there's no way for them to be certain of how the other feels. There's no way for Mikoto to know why John was doing all that. There's no way for Mikoto to know John was trying to protect and help him.

John in the middle of Double even states that he doesn't know why he's there. So yes, most of us are all assuming it was all due to Mikoto's stress with work, but hell we could all be wrong because, again, Mikoto refuses to open up and actually talk about issues with anyone. "Come to know me as an honest man" is John asking for all of us and Es to go and know him as himself, as John the alter, and not the vision Mikoto had of him on MeMe and the entirety of trial one. Because yes, you can't change the violent nature of his, but we should at least come to know and understand that he is a protector and was simply trying his best to protect Mikoto from something (what? We don't know and can't be sure, but yet again, our best bet for now is his job). John is seemingly willing to open up more this trial, admitting he is indeed the one who committed the murder and asking Es to understand the situation they're being put under, with Mikoto feeling stressed and please forgive him, because Mikoto is not the one who committed the murders. I'm sure we will get more on their situation etc when the questions for Mikoto and Kotoko come, but for now we only have that.

John simply wished to save and protect Mikoto, he himself doesn't know how it all ended like *this* (Mikoto as guilty and not innocent, running away from him on the train because, again, Mikoto isn't aware John is simply trying to help him). Having John asking us to forgive Mikoto many times through both the mv (first image of these 3) and voice drama (next screenshot) basically affirms his beliefs and wishes, that he wants us to guilt him, but not Mikoto. After all, if we get another guilty verdict? In his own words Mikoto will go into dormancy due to the stressful situations of having two guilty verdicts in a row, but if Mikoto gets a innocent this time around? Then, there will be less need for John to front... After all, if the situation becomes a bit more calming for them, then John's purpose of protecting Mikoto will be gone for some time... What we can't have, however, Is Mikoto going into dormancy and then forcing John as the new host, because John wouldn't know what to do by then. He was born to be a protector and his identity is intrinsically connected to this role, the duty of protecting Mikoto, for him, comes above him as his own person. With Mikoto's dormancy, John himself would lose his purpose and motive of existing.

And even so, John apologizes at the end of the milgram, questioning even his own existence that "none of this wouldn't have happened if I wasn't even born". In John's eyes, he failed on his role of a protector by getting Mikoto into this situation. The protector guilt is shown so greatly on John that I did tear up a bit when first watching the Double mv and reading the lyrics. The fact they expanded away from the "scary evil alter" troupe that Mikoto made us belief in trial 1 into a protector/persecutor who feels guilt that his actions caused harm to the host? Into a protector with low empathy who cares more for the well being of their host than his own? Mikoto was neutral on the scale of "is this good system rep" for me initially because, again, Mikoto himself didn't know he was a system. Now we got more information on how things work thanks to John and, from the feelings of how scary finding out there's someone else besides you to the fear of realizing that the person who did whatever the hell it was wasn't you mentally, but it physically was you at the same time is terrifying. I think their writing was very well handled to cover the topics of fear and guilt from both sides. Mikoto is still a host who's unaware of the fact he's a system. John is a protector who feels like he failed on his role after getting Mikoto into this mess. Their communication, due to seemingly being a recent split, is non existent so they cant fully talk with each other to comprehend the other. To me, this is a perfect example of how it felt when I myself found out I wasn't a singlet. I don't think Mikoto's writing is perfect and has no flaws, not at all, but on the grander scale of things? Having this type of rep coming from a japanese song media franchise is great and almost unseen since it's mostly always used as a joke or for the scary evil alter trope alone. Milgram and the team could do some stuff better, sure, but from what we have right now? It's far from me of calling them "bad system representation". After all, just like John tells Mikoto, they're both doing their best.

[mekachu04]

6. Lipstick

Kidd - 11 | Killer - 15 | Victoria - 15 almost 16

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Killer in dresses and makeup

Teenagers doing teenager things

Victoria is a mill girl

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

Victoria had been a mill girl since she was 10, a doffer for the older women in the textile mill, and earning herself a bed at the Women's Boarding House, tucked away on the city side of the mill complex, blocking the city's view of the textile manufacturing building and the waste it dumped freely out into the Heaps. She was well aware of the good fortune she'd fallen into, having seen the conditions other girls and boys her age outside of the walls lived in. She was almost 16 now, and still sleeping in the same bed night after night.

The years of being underpaid and overworked left her with a roof over her head, three square meals a day, and never having to worry about the things that go bump in the night.

Never had to worry about the unwanted attention of the older boys as not a one of them yet able to sneak past the Widow Matron of her building.

 That wasn't to say Victoria had not been sneaking a certain younger boy in for a couple of years now.

Three years actually - right under the nose of the adults - with the exception of one of the nurses who'd taught Victoria herself the tricks on a night the young woman preferred not to remember. It was a good thing Killer made a convincing girl, prettier hair than her own, and a wore her dresses and heels as naturally as she did. She just had to make sure he was out by curfew or someone was bound to notice the extra girl at head count.

Once, on one of her free weekends, her dress had torn along the back when it got caught on a nail or something. Instead of going home - and possibly be misunderstood as forfeiting her remaining free time - she'd convinced Killer (and Kidd because she'd forgotten to lock the door) to follow her into a shop's bathroom and put her dress on so she could sew it back up as properly as one could on the fly.

While using him as a dress form - she wasn't particular well devolved and he was about as wide chested as she was and it fit him well enough for the task - Kidd had asked the two if that meant Killer was a girl.

Killer had looked upset, it was too close to the ugly things the other boys called him and while she knew Kidd didn't know any better, it was still bordering on hurtful.

"What's wrong with being a girl?" she had demanded of him. Kidd looked surprised, before slouching against the main door, looking properly told off, muttering "Nuthin'."

With a frown, she'd turned back to her stitching, when Killer spoke up, his voice timid in a way she wasn't used to, "Victoria wears pants most of the time, does that make her a boy?" he asked Kidd.

"…no?"

"You're wearing one of her old shirts right now - does that made you a girl?"

The boy shook his head no.

"It's just clothes and stuff."

"Okay." Kidd agreed, sounding like right now he just want the conversation to end.

But Victoria had looked at Killer in her favorite yellow dress - it was the wrong colour for him, but made a cute silhouette.

She'd brought him an older blue one of hers a few weeks later. They'd snuck into the bathroom again, and she'd dressed him up and it looked so much better than the yellow one had.

And then they'd waltzed right in though the front doors of her boarding house, only barely keeping composed long enough to shut themselves away in her currently empty dorm room before they were laughing wildly, clutching at each other to keep from falling over.

"I can't believe that worked!" Killer was cackling, and neither could Victoria, and the thrill of getting such a big one over on the Widow Matron was a high she'd not been expecting.

Most of the time, Victoria was more than happy to hang out with both of the boys, but there was something exhilarating in sneaking Killer away from both his childminder duties and past the women of the boarding house. She was pretty sure some of the other girls had suspected something was up seeing as Killer - who had the audacity to introduce himself as Killer still - could never be found at meals or at bed check.

So far though, the only thing anyone had actually said was when Nicolette had still been in the room getting ready when Victoria and Killer slipped in one afternoon. Killer had quickly looked away from the half-dressed woman, blushing, and Victoria had felt a little offended he'd never reacted to her that way. Nicolette had frowned at the interruption but otherwise ignored them, at least until she was putting her things away. She held a little tube up thoughtfully, before tossing it to Victoria. Even surprised, she'd caught it with ease, looking confused.

"Killer'd look good in purple, I think." was all Nicolette said, before heading out for her own night on the town.

It was a tube of lipstick. Victoria and Killer looked at it thoughtfully.

Nicolette was right. Killer did look good in purple. It was a soft lilac colour that worked well with his straw yellow hair and ice blue eyes. Victoria found she liked painting him up in it, some times adding a touch of purple powder that she'd later pick up to the creases of his eyelids.

Sometimes, after he was all dolled up, they'd hit the town together. Other days they spend in her dorm room. "Just don't mess up your lipstick" was her only rule.

And then he'd either escort her back to the doors just before 10, or would be sneaking out the back, headed back to the Heaps. He had a small collection of makeup that was just his that he hid in one of his caches, along with the dress. The other clothes he would bring back to Kidd, who was more than happy to wear even the ugliest prints if not for anything more than the fact they'd never belonged to anyone else before him.

Kidd would watch him those nights, carefully washing the makeup off under the flickering of lamp light.

"You don't have to wash it off…" Kidd had said finally, "If you don't want to. I don't care if you like to look pretty."

Killer had smiled up at him, head tilted so his bangs fell away from his face for once, and he studied his younger friend, "You think I look pretty?"

[shinysmolivgarden]

@tealmaskmybeloved

more info under the cut

A note: I imagine that Dokukieran's battle would work like the fights in most difficulty roms where he always leads Glimmora but what he send out next depends on where he sees a kill with certain moves and always changes.

Second note: I forget why I gave the pokemon the natures I did. I know they're good, but don't ask why.

Glimmora:

So Doku is actually competent and uses Glimmora as a lead unlike a certain someone. I gave it Focus Sash and Toxic Debris as standard to ensure at least one layer of toxic spikes gets set up before Glimmora goes down. It gets Toxic Spikes and Stealth Rock to get as many hazards up as possible before going down. I gave it Sludge Bomb for poison S.T.A.B. and explosion to catch opponents off guard. (I imagine Doku would give his team lots of tricky moves to stop people who aren't ready).

Runerigus

When I was doing this teambuild I saw Runerigus' defense stat and immediately knew what I had to do. Luckily, it gets both Iron Defense (which doubles the user's defense stat) and Body Press (which uses your defense instead of your attack). To further this insane damage output, it holds a Ganlon Berry which increases its defense when it falls below 1/4 health, so if you don't one shot it, which you WILL NOT DO, at least one of your team members is probably going down. It gets Hex for Ghost S.T.A.B. as Hex's power doubles when the opponent has a status, which WILL be the case because of Glimmora. Finally, I gave it taunt to stop you from setting up on it.

Chandelure

The biggest problem with having a poison-type team is that it's weak to psychic, so it's a good thing this team has three ghost-type members. With Runerigus using Body Press which is not very effective against psychic types, I chose Chandelure to be the team's Psychic counter. It has two ghost moves: Shadow Ball and Hex. Hex for if you have a status condition, and Shadow Ball for if you somehow got rid of the toxic spikes, though I'm not sure how you'd do that given rapid spin is useless against a half-ghost type team. Flamethrower for fire S.T.A.B. and Hyper Beam for raw damage in a pinch. I gave it Infiltrator over Flame Body because a) this guy isn't very defensive so it won't be taking many hits anyway, and b) I want to make sure the team can't be broken with Light Screen & Reflect. I knew I wanted it to have a choice item, but I chose scarf over specs because its special attack is already very high and its speed is good but could be better for a sweeper.

Gengar:

(Notice: I'm not explaining Gengar or Runerigus' abilities because it's not like I could have given them anything else.) Gengar's very simple when compares to the previous two. Shadow Ball for ghost S.T.A.B. and Venoshock for poison. Similar to hex, its power doubles when you have a status. (I think Toxapex would be great for this team because it also has Venoshock and the ability Merciless, which further increases damage when the target is poisoned :]) I gave it Sucker Punch to ensure a KO if the opponent's health is low enough, and Destiny Bond to catch the opponent off guard and knock out their pokemon when they least expect it.

Sneasler:

Firstly, Dire Claw and Close Combat for S.T.A.B. Dire Claw is insanely good because of its status capabilities (which also allow for the rest of the team with hex and venoshock to deal massive damage). So insanely good in fact, it's banned in a lot of competitive formats :]. I had it learn Fake Out to break any focus sashes which you might be using to try and beat Doku, and to knock out a low health opponent which it might switch into. One thing the rest of this set doesn't account for is Sneasler's 4x weakness to psychic, which is an issue for the rest of the poison-types on the team, too. To counter this, I gave it a weakness policy and the ability Umburden. Weakness policy increases your attack stats when you're hit with a super effective move, and Umburden increases your speed when your item is used up. This also pairs well with the move Acrobatics, whose base power doubles to 110 when you don't have an item. In short, if you hit Sneasler with a super effective move and don't one-shot it, it will get attack and speed boosts and sweep your entire team.

Hydrapple:

Note: The original post by tealmaskmybeloved specifies that this hydrapple would be toxic chained, and I assume it would become Poison-Dragon instead of Poison-Grass, but if it does become Poison-Grass, just replace Draco Meteor with Leaf Storm in the moveset.

This was supposed to be Doku's ace, but given the way I'd imagine this battle to work, I decided to have it fill a different role: B I G S T A L L. I gave it Infestation and the Grip Claw item so that if you can't take it out quickly enough, it can get rid of 7/8 of your pokemon's health and render it basically unusable because of Gengar and Sneasler's Sucker Punch and Fake Out. To make sure it can live long enough for that to happen, it also gets recover! :] It's very easy to keep this version of Hydrapple alive because it no longer has a 4x weakness to ice. I gave it Nasty plot to increase its special defense (which is not as good as its physical defense) and to regain the special attack stat which may have been lost from Draco Meteor (or Leaf Storm), which with Hydrapple's ability Supersweet Syrup lowering the opponent's evasion, is guaranteed to hit. (At least I think it is. Don't quote me on that).

Anyway that's the teambuild I did for funny peach guy. Geez I wrote a lot more than I thought I would.

[heliosthegriffin]

Shadow Knight, and Magic Girls V

Chapter 5

Jaune exited the bathroom awkwardly, followed by Amber and Vernal. "You two really didn't need to do that." Jaune said blushing.

"Look, it was only the top-half, you took care of the bottom half. I just needed to make sure your stitched didn't get wet." Amber said unable to make eye-contact with Jaune, before looking at what would be several feet of nylon string stretched out, currently keeping his body together.

He was healing fast, faster than anybody else she had seen, the skin had practically closed, in a few days they could take out the stitches. It wasn't superhuman, in-fact she suspected it was just the fact he cleared out her refrigerator, paired with being in peak-physical condition.

But, it was damn scary, in fact it was preternatural, extraordinary, but also, nothing that couldn't explained away as good genetics.

"Yeah, thanks." He mumbled, unable to keep his focus anywhere at the moment.

Vernal had a shit-eating grin. "Any time, Tiger." She had longer moved past any hesitation regarding flirting, if she was going to be his nurse she was owned some privileges. "Plus, if you fell down in there, Amber isn't hauling you up on her own, hell, how much do you weigh? Your arms feel like they're shaped from stone."

"I don't know, I probably under 240lb, I guess?" Jaune muttered, he did not like this attention.

Vernal kicked over a scale. "Might as well find out, we'll keep it on record."

Jaune stepped on it.

The scale creaked, feeling slightly self-conscious.

Amber's eye's widened. "255lb?"

"Shit, boy's heavy."

Jaune stepped off. "I'm 6'4 by the way, if you need to know my height. My dads the same height, and we're eye-level."

"I'd never have guess you were so dense when you had all those clothes on. You look so much taller, and leaner."

Jaune laughed. "It's neat trick, shadows distort how you see things at night. I also pad my shoulders, and my boots make a bit taller, it helps keep people from guessing my identity sense they can't match up the body." He hummed. "My gear probably adds another 15lbs on me, so it also gives a incorrect weight to work with."

Amber nodded. "You've put a lot of thought into this."

Jaune frowned. "I have too, what if this gets linked back to my family, my friends? I have no idea of the scope of powers or conspiracy at play here, I need to take every precaution possible."

"That means, you took a huge liability by letting us in on it." Vernal said weakly. "A secret is only as safe as the amount of people that know it."

"You saved my life."

"And, you mine. Honestly, I was out of line." Amber said sadly. "You owed me nothing, it was just a equal exchange."

Jaune leaned against the wall. "Well, it's done now, no use crying about it, and," He led.

"And?" Vernal continued.

He gave a boyish grin, one that was fitting for him. The two women felt a wave of warmth hit them, it was ... it was hard to put into words what they were feeling.

To see a boy so put on by his own sense of duty, and the circumstances of the world, to be nearly destroyed on a nightly basis, only to go out into the uncaring world with no-reward to be gained, other than words of gratitude and another chance to sacrifice himself another night.

For him to be pushed into the mold of a man, and pushed so far beyond what any one person should be expected to give.

To see him smiled, to see him look like a boy should look, act like he should act.

It was heart-breaking, and it was inspiring. Most of all, it was right. It was how things should be. Boys should be able to smile. Jaune had the right to smile.

It was the way things should be.

Then the door blew open in a spray of gunfire and smoke.

"You fucking bitch!" Came a gruff voice, as a brawny man entered the house. "I knew it, I fucking knew it, should have never -" The man didn't get a chance to finish his line.

Jaune in a moment of preternatural physical ability grabbed Amber and Vernal pushing them into the bathroom, before diving forward and kicking up the hardwood coffee table, and then kicking it forward.

It exploded in gunfire, but Jaune was nowhere to be seen, a window broken near it.

The man who blew open the door crept forward, being followed by no less than ten men in ski-masks and dark suits.

"Amber, Amber, fucking Amber!" The man called out. "I am so disappointed in you, you little slut!"

"Junior please, I can explain!" Amber called from the bathroom.

"I know you have The Knight in here! You think you can hide dick or shit from me?! I am the eyes and ears of this city!" Junior said in one breath, anger radiating off his very being. "Do you have any idea how much trouble this dip-shit hero-wannabe has caused me?! How many men he's crippled, how many he's killed?! Do you Amber?! Because, I do!" "Junior please! He saved my life, I was only trying to uphold the code of honor!"

"Don't you fucking talk to me about honor, girl! If you knew anything about honor, I wouldn't have had to ship you and that Branwen bitch in cargo-boat from Haven to here! If you weren't such a valuable asset, I'd have just burn this fucking house to the ground, and collected the insurance!"

"Junior, I'm sorry, just, I-" Junior fired a shot up into the ceiling. "Shut up. Here's what's going to happen. I"m going to kill that bastard. Then I'm going to take you, break your legs and put you in a wheel-chair for the rest of your life, and keep you at base as our personal doc until you die of old age, and you should be thankful, I'm being merciful here!"

"What- What about Vernal?" Amber asked voice wavering.

Junior smiled the type of smile that only belong on predatory cats. "The boys need a prize after battle, don't they? Don't worry, you can have her back, whatever's left of her, that is."

"You bastard." Amber whispered. "I should have just died last night, just like I was planing too."

Junior neared the door, reaching for the handle, tommy-gun at the ready.

Then the lights went out.

"AGHT-" Came a cry that went muffled.

Lights went on, but there was nothing were the sound had come from.

"Ted?" Came a concerned voice. "Ted's gone, boss!"

"Shut up, not the time, form a circle in the living room, don't leave any blind spots. This fucker is playing games with us, good, cause I love winning." Junior spat, as he made a sweep with his weapon, a flash-light feature having been activated.

The came a cracking noise. They did not get a chance to preapre for it.

"Ugh,"

Junior turned his head around, to see one of his men being dragged away into darkness.

He opened fire without mercy.

His man fell over dead, eyes full of horror, plugged full of holes.

A blur rushed out of the darkness, bullet followed his trail, but the monster was just one step ahead of them, and unforunately, they were in his clutches now, and his men were domino's waiting to be knocked down.

A towel tangled around one of his man's arms, jerked down hard, as knee rose up and met a ski-masked face.

The blur let go of his man, who fell down still as stone. The pale creature disappeared, before he came back out again behind another of his goons.

That pale rag he held was turning pink, it whipped and hit another man in the eye, he winced, taking his eyes off, and then came a kick so fast Junior's eyes didn't process it.

He didn't need too, to see the effect. There was a crack, and the man's head spun slightly, then feel at a 90 degree angle.

Two his men rushed forward unasked, they had known these men, worked with them all they're career criminal. They were brothers.

All the unrighteous rage they burned with meant nothing, however.

These men were big, they were strong, and experienced.

But, at the end of the day, also just bullies. They picked on the weak, always came in numbers, and sure risked they're lives on occasion, but they were not warriors.

What they were fighting wasn't either. It was a man who turned himself into a monster, and to kill a monster, you needed another monster, or a hero.

These men did not qualify.

The towel flashed again, pulling a man by the arm forward into a fist straight into the chest, there was a very wet crack, followed by wheesing. He didn't even get a chance to point his gun.

The other man did.

The towel wrapped around his hand, and jerked upwards, a score of bullets hitting the ceiling, the pale creature wrapped the towel harder around his fist, then moved behind the man, and then pulled hard.

The arm dislocated. The man screamed, falling to his knees, a kick forced him to the ground. Then came a stomp to the head, and then another, and another.

Junior grimaced at the sight, drew a bead and fired. But, the bastard was evasive and disappeared into the dark.

Junior sighed. "Outside, we're burning the house do-urgh!" He let out a strangled voice, as a towel was pulled around his neck and he was lifted off his feet.

Jaune leaned hunched behind him, pulling down on Junior neck using all of weight on a corded up towel, all while naked and covered in blood from head to toe.

"Call them off," He pulled the towel tighter. "Or, you all die." He pulled it just a bit tighter, not enough to break his neck, but enough that the big man was sure to feel it was about too. "Now." Jaune whispered, his voice hollow, inhuman.

Then he eased the pressure off, though keeping the towel around Junior's neck. The big man taking gulps of air like a he had been dying.

Which he was.

Junior feeling the pressure weaken, tried to slam the stock of his gun into the boy.

Jaune sighed, pulled the towel tightly, then with a heave spun in place, swung the towel, and therefore Junior with great effort, at the remaining men.

Junior was dead before he was even thrown, his neck broken like a cheap pencil, but his men on reflex filled the body being thrown at them with lead.

Not that it help them, as all 300 hundred pound of Junior slammed into them, knocking them to the ground in a heap.

Jaune stood over the men like a horror of a child's nightmare, like some sort of boogeyman. His eyes were dilated to the maximum in the darkness, his body dripping with blood, and his lips stretched into a thin line.

In either hand was the towel or a cheap kitchen knife.

The man struggled to get up, but they were tangled under the body and each other's limbs. Jaune snatched up a sub-machine gun, turned off the safety, and did his work.

He took a moment examining them for any sign of life, then fired again. He did not take chances on things like this.

Bright lights came on behind him, pouring in through the windows. He saw shadows move along the walls, dozens of them.

"Boss? Junior? What's going on? You get those bitches, yet?" Came a snarky feminine voice.

"Yeah, we got shit to do tonight." A near identical voice followed.

Then came in two black-hair girls in white and red outfits respectively.

"Shit." They both said in tandem upon seeing the crime-scene.

Jaune drew a bead on them, face shadowed and mostly hidden. "So, what do you thinks going to happen next?"

Then before either could react, the floor exploded. A giant ursine face with glowing red eyes staring at them, then pulled itself out.

Jaune sighed.

Of course.

------

Ren covered his face, blushing and on the verge of having a mental breakdown.

"I hate all of you." He muttered darkly.

Nora whined.

"Except, Nora."

"Oh shush, you look beautiful." Ruby said, tying Ren's hair into a braid, while Yang did his makeup.

How?! HOW?! HOW DID HE GET TALKED INTO THIS?! NORA HADN"T EVEN BEEN THE ONE TO SUGGEST IT?! Ren thought very calm and reasonably.

Blake was comparing different shades of eye shadow, while Pyrrha was going through dresses that would fit him.

They had somehow managed to take over the drama club and ransack they're closet of outfits.

The other girls had started dressing up, and then turned on him, he should have known better than to let it slip he used to play dress up with Nora.

He had been 10! It have been 7 years, and now, by forces beyond his comprehension, Yang, Blake, Ruby, and Pyrrha had exchanged looks that had said the same thing.

'If he's this cute dressed normally, how much cuter could we make him?"

He blamed Jaune for this, he wasn't sure how, but he knew this was his fault.

Not that Jaune would have been able to help him, considering Yang had grabbed him with one arm and hoisted him over shoulder without any effort on her part, something that was almost blatantly superhuman.

All it would have induced is Jaune sharing his fate, and face.

But, as the saying went, 'Misery loves company,'.

"Stop frowning, you look so much prettier when you smile." Yang said, almost like a big sister.

Ren didn't even want a big sister! Nora was enough to deal with, and took the brunt of that when he was around!

"Yeah! Smile! Smile! Smile!" She repeated like a chant, which Nora quickly nodded and repeated. "Renny smile! Renny Smile! Smile Renny!"

Internally, Ren started sweating. Is this how a cult works?

Then Pyrrha came over with a dress and devious grin. "You would look so cute in this."

Ren knew his fate was sealed with that smile.

The best he could hope for is that this wouldn't awaken anything in him.

Shit. That was a lost cause the moment Yang started tossing him around like a ragdoll.

Blake turned around to the others. "Ladies, presenting Ms. Lily Ren."

Ren blushed in his idol outfit.

"Now we can finally start our own idol group!"

"Oh oh! Let me join, I love dance numbers!" Nora begged.

"Sure!" Ruby agreed.

As they talked, Ren swore, that he'd make everyone in this room suffer. If. It. Was. The. Last. Thing. He. Did.

------

Imagine if you would.

A naked and rugged statuesque blond, running around covered in blood, while firing pot-shots at a giant-demon bear, while some hit-squad goons ran around dying.

Pretty easy, right?

Now living it, that was the hard part.

"What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck," Came one hysterical voice.

"What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck," And another one in stereo.

Jaune rushed forward, with them hung over either of his shoulders. It had been a spur of the minute decision, the Shadow-Bear had charged, and there had been a girl.

Well, Girls.

Women.

Whatever.

They were probably here to try and kill him, and if the circumstances had been slightly different, they'd be dead on the floor.

But, he also had no proof of that, and just because they were here, didn't mean he was going to let the Shadow-Bear get them. That kinda of went against what he stood for.

Plus...

Jaune turned having to peer over a very nice behind, to see the bear was very close behind him, and much, much larger than anything he had fought this far.

He needed every hand here to put it down.

"Can you shoot?" Jaune asked the girl attached to the nice rump.

"What the fuck?!" The one in a red track-suit exclaimed.

He turned to the other, the one in a white track-suit. "What about you?"

"What. The. Fuck?" She said slowly, then turn to him. "What is that?!"

"Demon-Alien-Robot-Bear thing, I don't know." Jaune answered, running past a van, which got total as the bear punched through it. Several goons got crushed.

"That's helpful!" She snarked. Jaune nodded, that was a good sign that she could make a comeback.

Bullet glanced off it's armor, but chunks of dark flesh went flying when bullet hit the black-skin.

Still, it wasn't slowing down. It'd take concentrated fire to put it down, and they couldn't do that without ... a distration.

"I have a propistion." Jaune offed.

"Oh, this ought to be good, what could possibly have to offer me right now?" Despite being carried like a sack of flour, The Girl in White managed to sound imperious and arrogant.

"Well, it's not much, but, how does a chance to live through tonight, sound?"

She blinked and considered it. "Well, considering my other options." She gestured to handful of goons barely staying alive. "I'll say you have a deal, Mr. Knight."

"Good, now, are you a good shot?"

She chuckled. "No dear, I'm more ... leg focused, Militia over there on the next shoulder over, is much more arm oriented. Mil!" She said to her babbling sister.

She kept babbling.

"Ugh, I hate when she gets like this!" The brought down her hand on her sister ass in a sharp slap, which Jaune got a great view of, which earned a sharp yelp from the babbling girl.

"What the fuck, Melanie?!" She seemed to regained her sense, noticing Jaune. "Who's this? He's hot." She smiled at him. "You come here often, Sugar?"

"Cut the horny, Sis. We need you to do some shooting." She turned to Jaune. "Not that you aren't, Dear."

Jaune shrugged. "No offense, but not the time, or place, thank you though."

He pushed the sub-machine gun into Militia's waiting hands. She took it like it was old-friend. "Oh, this has some kick to it, Junior really wanted to kill you."

"Hmm. 5/10, had better."

Melanie nodded. "Yeah, that's about right. His dad's going to pissed, though."

"Yeah, Big Hei Xiong, isn't going to take this well." Militia said offhandedly, then patted Jaune on the shoulder. "Nice knowing you. Unless, you fancy eloping?"

Jaune looked at the quickly catching up demon-bear. "Sorry, but, I have a duty to take care of. I can figure out who I'll survive tomorrow after I figure out how I'll survive tonight."

"I noticed you didn't say us." Melanie added with suspicion.

"Because, I'd die before, I'd let it get you two." Jaune added casually, bluntly, and more of all, truthfully.

Melanie and Militia looked at each other, a faint blush. "Well, thank you." Mel added.

"So, here's the plan." Jaune said. "I'm going to distract it, you gather up your boys and concentrate fire on it, go for the eyes, or concentrate on one limb until you break it off, now..." He tensed his muscles, and took a grip on the hems of they're clothes, and tossed them up into a tree just high enough for them to be caught by.

Jaune continued to run straight, while the Shadow-Bear followed hot on his trail.

The twin girls started slightly transfixed, as they realized he was quite naked.

"It's quite the view, Mel." Militia took aim with the sub-machine gun. "He's quite trusting fellow, isn't he? I could blow his pretty little head all over the lawn."

"Yes, it's quite the sight." She jumped out of the branches landing in a crouch. "But, spare me the drivel, we can figure out what to do about him after the monster's dead." Melanie said casually, before taking off at a dead sprint to her remaining men, to straighten them out.

-----

Ok, Ren thought, maybe this isn't so bad.

The boy moved in sync with the girls, though they struggled to keep up with his practiced movements.

"KEEP UP LADIES!" Ren bellowed. "Do you want to be Idols? Or do you want to be I-dolts?!"

"Idols!" The girls yelled.

"Then picked up the pace, hussies!" Ren swaying and rotating his hips like he was a gyroscope, the girls were runing out of breath, but Ren had just begun.

"1 and 2 and 3 and 4, Jazz-hands!! NORA! I DON"T SEE JAZZ HANDS!"

"I"m sorry, Renny!"

"It's Lily on stage, you dolt!"

"I'm sorry, Lily!"

"Damn right, you are! Blake shake what you momma gave you, or so help me, I will rip it off you and give it to Weiss! You know she didn't get her figure from her mama, it came from her flat-ass father!"

Blake turned to Yang, who was also struggling. "What have we unleashed upon the planet?"

Yang turned to her pale and hopeless. "Lily the Star of Vale, the conquer of worlds."

A bag dropped on the ground, as Weiss and two Brunettes walked in, one wearing sunglasses and other had large rabbit ears.

"What did you say about me?" Weiss asked icily.

Lily pointed at her, still dancing in time. "I think the bigger question is, what is it, I could say about you?" Then drew a very unflattering shape of Weiss in the air, while fluttering her (His?) eyelashes innocently.

The brunette with sunglasses took a sharp intake of air. "She's perfect."

"I think that's Lie Ren?" The rabbit-girl said, not that the sunglasses girl heard, too focused on Lily's dance and swaying mini-skirt.

'Oh boy, there she goes again.' The rabbit-girl thought, then sat down and opened a book.

It was full of nothing but pictures of the Shadow-Knight. Though, it had no pictures of Shadow-Monsters, only managing to catch him fighting criminals, or as a barely visible blur.

There was also, a second notebook, that was full of her thoughts on the Shadow-Knight.

Ranging from Height and Weight, to Goals as to why he did what he did, and where he strike next.

6'6ft was her best guess via estimations and the few pictures of him standing still next to objects of known height. His weight was around 280lbs give or take ten pounds, but some of that was definitely his gear, so taking that off, it was probably closer to 260 naked.

He was definitely a Vale born natively, as a few pictures had caught some skin, that was pale as milk, and he understood Vale's dialect perfectly from the few interactions people had with him.

There was no styles she could link to his fighting style, which she had taken to calling as Dark Chivalry, the idea of using any means necessary to protect the innocent. So, seeing as he had no true fighting style that ruled him out being a martial artist, a ex-soldier/military/mercenary, and put him in the category of either being self-trained, or someone thrown in the deep in.

Seeing as how fast he recovered from injuries that had been recorded, he had to be young and athletic and good health, it made her lean towards him being self-trained as he only showed up a year ago, so it made it all the more plausible that he was just teenager, who happened to get dragged into this by accident.

However, that was only one theory, the other was that he was secret project by a cabal of the highest members of the society, empowered to fight against some unknown, shadowy threat that could dismantle all of society, while working with several others of great power every night to fight evil.

She shook her head. "That would be ridiculous."

Fingers snapped in front of her face. "Vel, Vel, Velvet! Stop your hero-worshiping! I need your camera,"

"What for Coco?"

Coco had a delirious look on her face, as she gestured to where Weiss was being forced into idol clothes, breathless after she was beaten in a dance off by Lily, who looked haughtily at the heiress.

"We have stars in the making! That's why, and we can take them to the top!" Coco's eyes crawled over Lily. "Or the bottom."

------

Jaune ran.

Cold, sticky sweat stuck to him, while a nearly silent monster kept pace with him, it's heavy paws making loud thumps behind him, it was as big as mini-van and weighted more, probably.

So, it had no problems crashing through ... anything. Jaune lept over fences, slid over cars, scaled brick walls, jumped ditches, and slid under dump-trucks.

It kept pace.

By effortlessly crashing through anything and everything in it's path, it's red eyes focused entirely on the pale human in front of it. To catch and rip him apart.

In the dark, it was nearly invisible, aside from it's bone plating and red eyes, but even those could be hidden in the dark. It was a near-perfect killing machine.

Jaune kept running though, feet leaving bloody footprints behind him, running barefoot this entire time. Blood dried across the rest of his body, thankfully none his own, but bruises lined him all over from all the rocks and pieces of debris that hit him.

Still he kept running, he done his best to limit damage, to minimum success, but he had at least kept it from going through any houses. Though, he still felt sour that this was happening at all.

Jaune had a goal in mind, though.

Smiling, ahead was an army of orange cones and yellow caution tape.

Ahead was the ugly decaying body of a concrete building, a old office building condemned to death.

Along with plenty of hazards to one's life, including a unliving shadow demon.

Ducking underneath the tape, Jaune vaulted over railing into the site, bloody feet hitting packed dirt, and he winced, but kept moving.

The shadow-monster barreled through, making a bull in a china-shop look absolutely sad by comparison.

He made a be line towards the rebar, knocking over buckets of nails, bolts, anything that might slow it down, or do some damage.

Daring to peek behind, Jaune was disappointed and slightly horrified to see the nails mostly crushed into the ground, other than a few lucky ones that impaled into it's paws, not it notice or cared.

'Stupid lack of blood and internal organs.' He thought cursing the monster.

Swing past a street post, Jaune turned too fast for the monster, with that much weight it lacked the ability to turn on the dime like he could, and it kept going forward.

Straight into a foot-think concrete wall.

It punched straight through, going beyond into it, leaving a gaping hole into the decrepit building, small bits of concrete falling from the edges, leaving a dark mouth into the body of the building.

Jaune peered in, noticing that the line of destruction just kept going. Then he saw cracks begin to spread over the walls, and the building started to shutter, it's top floors sagging.

"Crap." Jaune muttered, then ran grabbing some sharp looking rebar nearby, saw a face mask and some safety glasses left around, and then dove behind a dumpster, as several hundred tons of building came crashing down, along with a decades of old dust and smoke exploded out.

He could feel the force in his bones, as the dumpster slid back, despite already being full of several thousand pounds of concrete, metal, and wood, pressing him against a truck.

Jaune covered his face, as smoke and dust and other unpleasant grossness hit him from under the dumpster, he felt his skin burn, and eyes water, mouth go dry, and very dizzy.

Minutes passed, and for a minute he dare to hope that it had brought down the beast.

He got up shakily, tiredly, and saw nothing but grey, dust air covering everything an a hill made of rubble.

It moved.

"Crap." Jaune sighed, forcing himself forward, clutching the rebar.

An armored head forced it's way out of the junk, it was thankfully, damaged, finally.

Half of it's face was gone.

It pulled out the rest of it's body, it's armor was cracked, and there was glass, metal, and rock stabbing all over it's body. It was also missing a front leg the same side where it's face was gone.

It looked like shit, and Jaune smiled with malice, feeling like he actually had a pretty decent chance of taking it on now.

Then frowned, looking at all the rubble, and then at his bleeding barefoot. He was just asking for tetanus, or worse, now, wasn't he?

If he tried running through all that, he was practically asking to never recover properly. He paused. What was he if not reckless? If he didn't take this thing down, then what would happen if he didn't. Jaune was more than willing to give his life over this, so what?

But, that didn't mean he had to be dumb about this.

Jaune slammed the rebar on the ground, getting the monsters attention. "Over here, fatso!" Jaune bellowed.

It turned to him groggily, as though it was surprised he was alive too.

Keeping up the pace, Jaune swung again and again at the dumpster, he was going to keep monster him no matter what.

Turning to him, it moved at much more sedate pace than before, losing a leg does that to you, but still fast enough to turn him to mush.

Stopping his banging, Jaune turned the rebar in hand like a spear, then hurled it, at it's remaining eye.

It moved like dodging was an alien thought to it, it had never dodge in it's life, well, unlife, so it wasn't going to stop now.

Of the five feet of rebar, half of it buried into it's skull.

This didn't deter it in the slightest, as it kept moving where Jaune was.

Then turned to where Jaune was going, it might not be able to finely track him, but it's monstrous nature still allowed it to sense negative feelings.

Jaune, calm as he was, internally was burning vividly with all the dark elements of mortal-kind.

It charged again.

Jaune dodge, moving to it's blindside. Striking the other rebar into it's stump, digging the metal pole into it's red inside.

Not that it seemed to bother it, and now, Jaune was unarmed.

He thought he could hear voices, as he dodged under a paw.

The boy pulled back, taking stock of the creature, and noticed the rebar he thrown into it's head, and looking for any other weapons.

He thought he heard the voices getting closer, and did he hear a car?

There was no other weapons, but ... what if?

Jaune grabbed a rock, and jumped up, grabbing it by the shoulder, hauling himself up single handedly. The monster bucked and shook, but Jaune clinged on, it jumped and then charged, it wasn't panicking, it wasn't capable of that.

It was, however, clueless on what to do. It never had been climbed on before.

Jaune grabbed it by the ear, steadying himself, not wanting to fall and get crushed by it's paws, brought his arm back, and then brought the rock down on the rebar.

It went in just a bit further. Jaune smiled, then did it again, his hand stung as he did it, but the rebar went in inch by damn inch. Jaune wasn't sure what he hoped to achieve by doing this, it had no organs, but it was better than nothing, maybe though, it would do something, maybe it'd do just enough damage for it to fall apart.

Then the bear suddenly stopped, it had slipped, Jaune realized, those palls he had thrown around earlier had done they're work, and now it feel prone on the ground, and all the remaining force it had left went into a unwitting victim.

Jaune.

It flung him through the air, out of the demolition zone and a dozen yards out. By luck, or by some sort of divine intervention, he hit soft grass instead of rough concrete, finally stopping as he landed in the bushes.

He rose slowly, bleeding from scratched. "Today, pfft" He spat out some grass and leaves. "Sucks."

A car then pulled up next to him, where four familiar faces, each armed with a sub-machine gun stared at him.

He gave a salute. "Howdy, Ladies. Mind giving me a hand?"

Amber gave him a worried smile, and nodded. "Get in the back, please."

Jaune obliged, sitting in-between Vernal and Militia. "At this rate, you're never going to get my blood out of your car," He turned to Militia. "At this rate, she'll be the prime suspect of my murder, instead of you, or your sister."

She chuckled. "She'd be a great patsy,"

"Hey!"

Vernal nodded. "Yeah, she would, she can not speak in public to saver her life."

"Vernal!"

Militia shrugged. "Anyway, we can worry about that after, we get down with thing."

Jaune nodded. Sounded good to him.

The bear was still laying down when they got there, it seemed like it didn't have the strength to get up anymore, likely do to not having the support of it's front let, or enough sense to figure out how to do so.

Jaune got out, gesturing to it's head. "Focus fire there, don't stop until I say so, ready? Go."

Shadow-Bear didn't have any last thoughts or words, it wasn't that aware. Though, even if it did, the amount of lead being pumped into it's head, wouldn't let get think past one syllable.

Jaune held his hand up. "Alright, that's good." He said, the body already disappearing, everything stuck into it's body was falling to the ground, held up by nothing, and not even stained.

He peered into the car, seeing the clock. 12am.

Smiling at the girls, he asked. "Anybody up for breakfast?"

----

Flying over the sky, Red blushed, the other girls did too. They had gotten a bit too caught up in they're idol training, now they were late for patrol.

Who had known Ren, uh, uh, Lily she meant, internally fearing her wrath, could be such a demanding task master?

"My feet hurt," Red whined.

"My back hurts." Yellow added.

"I need a aspirin." Black added.

"My ego needs a band-aid" White said sadly.

"I feel fine." Crimson said pleasantly, getting a quartet of glares.

Things were slight for a moment.

"I blame Jaune for this." Red added, to a course of nods from the rest of the magical girls.

"Yeah, he is to blame," Blake continue. "Who knew he was keeping back two such monstrous forces, no wonder he's tired." She paused. "I always assumed it was drugs."

The rest nodded, then paused uncomfortably. "Ok, good to know I wasn't the only one who thought that." Yellow said. "Not that I think that now, he's a saint as far as I'm concerned, since he holds back Nora and Lily from the rest of the world."

"Definitely," White agreed. "I take back every bad rumor I started about him."

Crimson gave a chilling glare at White. "Is that so?"

White hid behind Red, who was also glaring at her, so she then hid Yellow. "I am sorry, I'll apologize tomorrow."

"Yes, you will." The two girls said eerily in tandem.

"It's not like he noticed, though!" That gave the girls pause.

However.

"That excuses nothing." Black said after a moment. "Like you can't go around saying he has a mammoth trunk down there. That'll ruin his chances with getting any good women."

White's mouth hung open, silent in shock.

Then added. "That's not one of mine, in fact, I thought one of you started it. To you know, make him get with a loose women to ruin his reputation ... more so. Actually, that would probably improve it."

"So, if none of us started it, who did?" Yellow asked.

Red rose a hand. "I didn't, but I heard it from the boys as they're were coming out of the locker room, I heard never seen anybody look so defeated." She also didn't put two and two together till now, then she blushed. "Oh."

Yellow blushed. "Oh."

"Oh." Black repeated.

White stared far into the distance. "Oh."

"Oh." Crimson added, though internally she yelled 'Jackpot,'

They stopped for a moment. Then White continued. "Could you imagine how much damage those two could do with our powers?"

Yellow paused thinking. "Oh, you mean Lily and Nora? Yeah, that would be insane, the world wouldn't survive!"

"And, Ms. Purple says we're bad," Red added.

Black nodded. "We really are the best option."

Crimson stared off into the distance, looking at a drifting cloud of dust.

The other girls noticed.

Then Yellow added. "When did we do that?"

[heyclickadee]

Tech's Alive, Part Two: The Goggles, AKA Why, "No body, no death," Is Especially Applicable Here. (Content warning for discussions of death)

I think everyone's mentioned how suspicious it is that the only physical evidence we have for Tech's "death" are his goggles, which are presented to Hunter as evidence by Actual Rancid Potato Royce Hemlock. And I think everyone's also pointed out how suspicious it is that the only thing Hemlock could supposedly salvage is also the flimsiest part of Tech's kit--not any of Tech's armor, just his goggles. And that the goggles are actually in better condition than we might expect; the lenses are broken, sure, and the rims are a little banged up, but they aren't crushed, and the band is still intact. And since they're something Tech wore under his helmet, they're also something that couldn't have just come off, unless Tech's helmet was either knocked off (maybe possible) or removed. Either way, it implies that Hemlock is possibly either lying about the goggles being all he could salvage, and that he did find more, or that the goggles are the only physical evidence he has of Tech's death as well.

So, yes, Hemlock's untrustworthy, the goggles are weak physical evidence of Tech's death at best, but we ought to also look at Hemlock's character as well as his motivation for presenting that evidence. Hemlock is a sadistic son of a bitch who isn't just willing to use pain as leverage--he enjoys it. I mean, we all saw the way Hemlock gloated over Crosshair dropping in that cloud of toxic gas. We all saw the way he smiled when they started torturing Crosshair again. The man is cruel and twisted and, honestly, I don't think I've hated a Star Wars character more. If someone doesn’t kill him by the end of the series I’m going to climb into the tv and do it myself. 

Anyway. 

Tossing Tech's shattered goggles at Hunter's feet is torture. Those blasters held at Wrecker's head are torture, too. It's just that instead of using a literal torture droid, Hemlock is using Hunter's guilt and grief as a rack and thumbscrew to force Hunter to comply with his demands. He's banking on the idea that Hunter cares about his brothers and feels deeply responsible for everything that happens to them(1), that he's reeling from losing Tech, maybe even hoping he's still hurt from losing Crosshair, and that losing another brother--Wrecker--would be too much for him to handle. So he takes the knife in Hunter's chest and twists it. And, it works! To an extent, anyway. Hunter puts his blaster down, and allows Hemlock to take him prisoner. Would he have ever handed over Omega? Whatever Hunter did? No, but Hunter was also hoping that Omega had gotten away in the ship with Echo at that point.

But, anyway, the point is that Hemlock is using Hunter's emotional pain in order to get his way. And if the writers wanted to convince us that Tech was really dead and gone for good, they could have done so in a far more effective way that would have actually allowed Hemlock to twist the knife even harder.

Hemlock could have just had his men bring Tech's body out.

In fact, I suspect that Hemlock would have brought Tech's body out, if he had a body to show. The fact that he didn't tells me that he doesn't have one; he's either got Tech alive, or he found the goggles by themselves and doesn’t have any more physical evidence than we do.

And I'm guessing what you're thinking; it's a kids' show. They can't do that, that'd be way too gruesome, especially since, if Tech really did hit the ground at terminal velocity, his body would be too broken too show. Especially since Tech is a main character and someone we’ve spent two season with—they can’t show him like that. Of course, yes, that's true. So, they could have done what Star Wars typically does with bodies; show it at a slightly obscured angle, or completely intact, but limp. Crosshair spent the a lot of the last several minutes of The Outpost kneeling next to the body of a character he (and we) cared about. Or, to cut down even further on how graphic it could be, they could have brought him in on a stretcher, covered in a cloth, but with a hand sticking out from under it, so that we (and Hunter and Wrecker) know it's him. They could have even brought him out in a body bag, completely covered, and had Hunter look inside and informed us that it was Tech via Hunter's reaction. All of those things, especially the last two, would have been completely in line with the show's inexplicably intact TV-Y7 rating (seriously, how??), would have complied with Hemlock's characterization as well as his motivation for showing any evidence of Tech's death at all, and would have allowed the writers to actually convince the audience that Tech really is dead and gone for good.

Except that the writers didn't do that. Hemlock doesn't bring Tech's body out. Just the goggles. So we, the audience, are stuck with no body. No real physical evidence. And so, frankly, are Wrecker, Echo, Hunter, and Omega.

Because here's the other thing about the goggles: It's not just important that Hemlock's the one to bring out the goggles, or that that's all he brings out. It's also important that the batch didn't have the goggles in the first place.

You see, I don't think Hunter and the rest have seen Tech's body, either. Their train car crashed through the station on one of the higher peaks a good half mile or more away from where Tech fell, meaning that they would have had to climb down that mountain and up and around the smaller mountains and hills below the train line to find him, and that was something that would have taken time. That was time they didn't have. They basically had to get out of dodge pretty much immediately, because they were actively under attack, all seriously injured, and because Omega was DYING, so they had to get out and get her help as fast as they could. They didn't have time to even start to look for Tech(2).

Besides the urgency of needing to save Omega, though, the thing that really convinces me that Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo never actually saw Tech's body is that they didn't have the goggles in the first place. Had Omega woken up to Wrecker already cradling Tech's goggles in his hands, then I wouldn't be writing this. We wouldn't have seen the body, but we would have pretty concrete evidence that a character we trust had. And that still wouldn't have been completely concrete evidence, but it, again, would have been a way for the writers to convince the audience that Tech really is dead and gone for good.

But, again, the writers didn't do that. Instead, they pass over at least two opportunities to have shown us a body, or to have at least shown us that a character we trust saw a body, and leave us in a situation where the only physical evidence Tech's death is both inconclusive and presented by a character we've been given every reason to hate and distrust, and whose motivation is to use that evidence as a way to emotionally manipulate the heroes. Which means that they're either trying to convince us that he’s dead and really bad at their jobs, which is possible, to be fair; or they know exactly what they're doing and are giving us just enough ambiguity to latch onto once we get over the initial emotional shock.

(1): I think Hemlock could have sussed this out about clones in general just through observation, but...I am going to consider the possibility—the possibility, mind you!—that Crosshair did eventually break. Just a little bit. Not anything too specific, not anything willingly, but he might have let slip that Hunter cares a lot or something. And to be completely clear, if he did, I'm not going to blame him. It’s not his fault if he did. They probably tortured him for days.

(2) I do wonder if one or more of them may have thought that maybe, just maybe, Tech lived, but that they had to make the choice to leave anyway. And if they did? Leaving anyway to save Omega would have been the right thing to do. I don't have kids, but my sister does, and if we got in a car crash and she had to make the choice between checking to see if I was okay and saving her kid, saving her kid is exactly what I would want her to do.

(Tumblr give me a way to write footnotes, I am begging you.)

[snailythefan]

Hi Snaily! How have you been? Im here for a pretty serious ask.

My boyfriend has been drawing for a while, I honestly think he's doing real good. But recently he's been feeling down about his art, he doesn't know why he should bother improving his art if his style is *basic* to some people, and it hurts a lot for him. He knows he should be drawing for fun and not force improvement to stress him out, but there's only so much I can do as his loving partner who doesn't draw at all.

So... what was it like for you, Snaily? When you started drawing many years back, how did you not feel like shit looking at how it could be better but you don't know how? What advice can you give to a beginner artist?

(You can answer this privately if you want btw, and ask me for his art if you need to see them. Much love <3)

hi peng!! always nice to hear from u! I'm gonna reply to this publicly because to be honest i can't resist to give this kind of advice to any and all beginner artists (but i am putting it under a readmore because as you know i love to ramble and this will get LOOONNNGGG and will Truly be The Ramblings of a Mad Man (gender neutral))

firstly, since I hear that he feels hurt by the idea that people out there might find his style "basic". That's a rookie mistake (that literally everyone makes when they start getting Serious about Art). The mistake being Caring Profoundly About an Outside Audience that's Ever Watching and Judging.

Which I literally cannot blame him or anyone for it, ESPECIALLY in this modern social media landscape where newer artists feel like they gotta get GOOD at the VIRAL RAT RACE so you gotta get that sweet, sweet validation in the form of likes, reblogs, retweets etc etc.

So that's my first tip I suppose: don't fall for the entrapment of being obsessed with getting any and all sorts of SWEET VALIDATION during your art process. This is hard to condition yourself to! I myself fall prone to it! It's actually kind of natural. Even if the validation you seek isn't online, surely you're expecting it from your peers or teachers or family members or whoever gets to look at your sketchbook (or you know, your medium of choice).

You want people to notice your art and all the effort you put into it. It's okay! DO welcome those who do!! But never NEVERRRRRR NEVERRRRRR commit the mistake of placing the value of your art on how much praise it gets from others. That's a one trip road on having an Absolute Bad Time. THE ONLY PERSON you should be looking to make happy with your art is YOURSELF first and foremost!!! Always!!! This is the Golden Rule!!!

So people (imagined or otherwise) think his style is """Basic""". Okay! That's literally not a crime anyone can arrest you for!! So what if you're LITERALLY starting and your art looks """basic"""!!!!!!! WHAT IS THE CRIME HERE!!!! CAN'T MY MAN JUST CREATE IN PEACE!!!! LET HIM COOK!!!!!

If he's starting out, i think it's pretty expected of him to just have a "basic" style you know? He shouldn't be ashamed of it! The best chef in the entire world right now didn't start making The Most Delicious Food To Ever Grace Anyone's Plate on DAY 1. They probably started with a goshdang sandwich. Many of them maybe. Until they could make the Perfect Sandwich even in their Sleep and only until then they felt ready enough to explore Further Possibilities In The Kitchen.

(Is this metaphor working? I sure hope it is!)

Anyway.

"How did you not feel like shit looking at how it could be better but you don't know how?"

Well that's a fun question because to this day I get extremely frustrated whenever I realize my Art Level isn't up to my standards. But THAT'S OKAY- even in my case!

If you're Serious About Art (as in, you LOVE making art) you'll constantly feel like you're having to catch up to artists that are doing MILES better than you. Which happens to everyone. Truly it's only the curse of having A Good Taste In Art (so you automatically Set Standards For Yourself based on what you personally consider Great Art).

So again, something to not be ashamed of. But also something to Learn To Live with. I get it!! I truly do!! You see some guy online who apparently is only 14 and they're already making compositions with complex perspectives and an amazing sense of color theory and you'll want to bite off your hands!!!! But you can't let that stop you!!

You're just gonna have to learn to Fail, Constantly. Failing Gracefully! Sucking At Art Again and Again!

You might think this conflicts with the Golden Rule (i mean, if you're not happy with your own art- then what's the point yeah?)

But it's all about Love babey. Loving the process of failing constantly, because deep down you REALIZE you're learning how not to suck little by little.

It's also an exercise in letting Spite guide you. So what if you're bad!!!!!! What if you've somehow committed the crime of being A Bad Artist!!!!!! The cops will never catch me fucker!!!!! SEE HOW I DESECRATE THE HOLY ACT OF "CREATING GOOD ART" AHAHAHAHA!!!! LITERALLY NOBODY CAN STOP ME!!!!! <- the attitude to Have. Yes you gotta be prepared to be Unhinged and to have active Disdain towards 4th Plane Entities that are probably judging your art quality. (Unless my experiences aren't universal and nobody else feels a salacious self-satisfaction whenever they draw something that looks like an affront to The Universe, knowing they can just Try Again).

Anyway those are the benefits of sprinkling a little Spite alongside all the Love for the process of Making Art.

At the start you might feel like you're only making bad art. So! Own it! unironically my life philosophy is that everyone should make more BAD ART!!! ARTISTS OF THE WORLD UNITE TO MAKE MORE BAD ART, YOU HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE BUT YOUR CHAINS!

that's for the mental approach at least.

So, what about the technical side? How do you actually take all those feelings of inadequacy and wrangle them into something productive that will help YOU get better at the art you want to make?

with the warning that i am a self taught artist so i might not the the perfect person to ask, but truly the most IMPORTANT skill you want to hone is OBSERVATION and COPYING WHAT YOU OBSERVE.

Basically you're gonna study the artists you like! You're gonna stare REAL HARD at the details in the art they make! And THEN. You're gonna try to copy THAT! Hell, you might even want to TRACE what they do at first** (**THIS ADVICE IS FOR PRACTICING. DO NOT TRACE AND THEN POST ONLINE FOR OTHERS TO GO "hey man wtf this is just you tracing X Artist" DO NOT!!! DO THAT!!!) just so you get a feel for what they have in their art that You Don't and learning how to slowly replicate that.

That's how I learned the ropes at least. Literally printing manga panels and then tracing over them during my Peak Weeb Years. Ah little snaily, how time flies. Another thing i liked to do was watch speedpaints of artists i liked but at like -2x speed. So it was a slowpaint and i could STEAL THEIR SECRETS <- another valuable art skill

Anyway, that's what I think it's the most important (to observe!)

...but also you might want to either take art classes OR watch a buuuuunch of tutorials on youtube for The Basics (basic anatomy! shading! values! color theory! perspective! gesture drawing!!!)

You feel like shit about your art? Fine! Then realize your life is your own and you have the absolute power to change that directly!! GO ON YOUTUBE AND LEARN THOSE BASICS!!!!!! don't be like me and struggle this much with perspective after years of making art!!!! (Though in all fairness, even those good at it struggle with it lol)

So! I am all out of advice for a newer artist.

TL,DR: YOU WILL SUCK A LOT AT FIRST BUT THE MORE YOU PRACTICE AND LEARN ABOUT YOUR FAILURES, THE MORE YOU'LL LOVE TO SEE YOUR IMPROVEMENT AND EVENTUALLY YOU'LL BE ABLE TO DO THE ART YOU WANT TO MAKE.

Peng if you could forward this to your bf i would be very grateful. Good luck to you two!!! Thank you for reaching out!! And remember!! Never give up!!!!!

[lemonhemlock]

Rhaenys Storming Through the Dragonpit

One of the most controversial scenes in Season 1, this was an addition from the part of the show-runners. It has received quite a lot of criticism already for being bombastic (in a bad way), useless and illogical. Personally speaking, I was torn, so this is an attempt to make (some) sense of it.

Spoilers for upcoming events.

Context

I intend to analyse this scene by giving as much grace and benefit-of-the-doubt to the writers and producers as I can - it's only fair.

Adapting any book series is not easy. There will always be changes performed to the written text, even when trying as hardly as possible to stick to the source material. Sometimes what reads well translates badly on screen. Different mediums require different storytelling techniques. It's not necessarily a bad thing, just different.

Sets, CGI and dragons are expensive. It's not just about money, but about time as well. Graphic artists need to be given enough time to do their jobs properly. You can't just decide to drop 10 dragons out of thin air and expect them to meet your deadlines, unless you plan on making them work in sweatshop conditions.

Logistically speaking, sometimes the scripts need to be changed because there is no time left to film them with their original (maybe better?) ideas. Things can easily get cut or simplified. So I will try to keep my suggestions down to earth and achievable.

Remember we only have 10 episodes. Of course, if we had twice as many, the discussion would be completely different, but that is not feasible. While I feel like the season would have benefited greatly from an additional 2-3 episodes, I do not have access to HBO's cost-benefit analysis and their finances.

Bear in mind that this is the first ASOIAF show to premiere after the disastrous and critically-panned final Game of Thrones season, so perhaps they really did not want to stray from the tried-and-true successful format of 10 episodes per season, with episode 9 the usual stand-out.

Pros

It provides an unexpected, shocking, show-stopping moment. It looks cool on screen; that's undeniable. It gives Rhaenys a girlboss moment that the casual viewer will love (again, casual viewers are the ones who bring the big bucks in). It swiftly communicates the following information about Rhaenys: she is resourceful and brave enough to face the dragonkeepers on her own (probably unarmed), she has a temper (she doesn't appreciate having been locked in her room), she is careless about ordinary people's lives, she has excellent control of her dragon (pointed comparison to Aemond & Vhagar) and she can control her temper tantrum enough to think a little before she acts.

It provides a character-defining situation for both Alicent and Aegon. IMO this was one of the most powerful moments of the season, so I understand why they prioritized it over basically anything else.

I think these are two very strong points and, in all honesty, opportunities too irresistible to pass over.

Cons

Rhaenys commits a terrorist act and her murders are swept under the rug by the narrative.

How do Rhaenys and Meleys manage to fly through the floor of the Dragonpit without either of them getting hurt? Considering the later Storming of the Dragonpit, this is illogical and defies the laws of physics.

It is not immediately apparent why Rhaenys doesn't burn the Greens and be done with it. A common complaint was that her actions didn't make any sense.

No Sunfyre. The most beautiful dragon in the known world and his relationship with Aegon is unparalleled. In the texts, after his coronation, Aegon flies around King's Landing, giving him an opportunity to show off his splendid dragon. Leaving Sunfyre out diminishes Aegon's character when he is in desperate need of rehabilitation.

Changes I agree with

I would argue that con#2 is the most egregious. If I would have been in the writers' / producers' shoes, I would strive to change that. The rest I would keep. IMO it's good visual storytelling.

Rhaenys will probably be the first to die next season. Developing her character is imperative, otherwise her death will feel hollow. Rhaenys is a proper dragonrider in her own right - one of the best. I do insist that showing the viewers that is very important. Rhaenys is played by a middle-aged woman and she gets a cool action scene in a medium where actresses are valued for youth and attractiveness. As viewers, we expect the 9th episode of a Game of Thrones season to be bonkers in some way. Putting her in THE prime-time spot of the season gives her the opportunity to become a memorable character. Yes, I would totally keep Rhaenys in this scene.

Sunfyre is a good boy and his absence has been felt, but he will have many an occasion to stand out before the end of the series. Meanwhile, Meleys will die soon and there hasn't been a proper opportunity to show her off. If her first scene next season is the same as her death scene, I don't think the impact would be as big. Yes, Arrax only got one segment as well, but he was a small dragon, whereas Meleys is one of the important ones. I can, therefore, understand and accept the prioritization of Meleys over Sunfyre in this scenario.

If possible, would I also have included Sunfyre in this scene? I am going to be controversial and answer no. Sunfyre's presence turns this event into a weird showdown between Rhaenys and Aegon (since Aegon is the only one who can control Sunfyre).

What beef would Rhaenys even have with Aegon at this point? She is pissed that the Greens were holding her hostage and forcing her to pick a side. I have already criticized the scene between her and Alicent and, while I believe the show could have done a better job at highlighting Rhaenys' hypocrisy and projection, I think it makes sense for Alicent to try to woo Rhaenys to the green side by appealing to her in some way. It also provides Rhaenys with an opportunity to appraise Alicent's character, so it makes more sense for this last scene of the episode to be a rehashing of that earlier appeal.

In similar vein, I also understand why the crowning of Helaena was cut. It is a sweet mother-daughter moment in the text, but had she been standing next to Aegon, Alicent would have had to protect them both by placing herself in front. We already know Alicent loves Helaena; this is not new information for the viewer. Alicent and Helaena will have their own gut-wrenching scenes together soon enough.

No, the question for the audience (and for Aegon) is whether Alicent loves Aegon. By performing this one act of bravery, we finally have our answer and cannot dispute whether or not Alicent took this stand just because Helaena was near her as well. When faced with the possibility of death, she carries out this one last act of care, even if its only consequence would be that Aegon won't have to spend his last moments on this earth alone.

So, yes, the focus of this scene should remain on Alicent and Aegon and Alicent's silent plea to Rhaenys. We begin the Dance with Alicent & Aegon and we should finish it with them as well. "My first son and my last" etc. It's too meaty of a concept to give up.

Why doesn't Rhaenys just burn the Greens and be done with it?

If I had executive power, I would have Rhaenys explain her reasoning to Daemon in more depth next episode. She kind of does, but the fandom at large was left unsatisfied, whereas I really do feel that burning everyone on the podium would have been a catastrophic decision, for the following reasons:

Kinslaying is a terrible crime in-universe, literally considered one of the worst things you could possibly do. People tend to be generally horrified by it. Rhaenys would be reducing Aegon, Aemond and Helaena to ash. It is really not highlighted how much of a big deal this would be. Of course, they will all end up killing each other later, but at least that would be during the course of the war, whereas this would be an unprovoked attack against defenseless non-combatants. In addition, it's not just that Rhaenys would be judged by society, but it's so taboo that it's very likely she just couldn't bring herself to do it, at least not at this particular stage. It's a very heavy decision!

Apart from killing three (3!) family members, Rhaenys would also be killing other state officials like the Dowager Queen, the Hand of the King, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and other members of the government like Tyland Lannister. All important people, generally coming from important and powerful noble families. That's a lot of potential allies to piss off.

Rhaenys would be killing the High Septon, literally the Westerosi equivalent to the Pope, thus ensuring an uprising of the Faith against Rhaenyra.

This would not end the succession crisis in any way. Aegon's children are in the Red Keep. His son Jaehaerys would become the next king. Alicent and Otto definitely have her own loyalists that could smuggle the children away to Oldtown, if necessary.

Even without the children, Daeron is still in Oldtown. Lord Ormund Hightower could simply crown him and wage war against Rhaenyra, who, by no will of her own, now has the Faith against her and a population outraged by this incredible act of cruelty.

Ultimately, what Rhaenys said was right: the decision to start the war wasn't hers to make, nor was the decision to escalate hostilities to such an appalling level. She was never willing to do that for her own claim. She never tried to take the throne by conquest after the decision of the Great Council in 101. So why would she possibly do something like this for Rhaenyra?

It's not even fair to Rhaenyra. She isn't consulted at all in this matter. Perhaps she doesn't want to kill her own family members. However, the consequences of this act would be pinned on her no matter what. She'd have to execute Rhaenys or something drastic like that to punish her for the heinous crime she committed.

Yes, you could still keep the mother-to-mother bond element between Rhaenys and Alicent. Rhaenys can still be moved by Alicent's determination to stand by and do the best for her children.

Fix-It

These are the tweaks I would perform to preserve the impactful quality of the scene without sacrificing logic:

First of all, I will point out that Rhaenys stayed overnight in order for Vaemond's body be prepared for the journey back to Driftmark. Rhaenyra leaving KL so soon after dinner was an impromptu decision; even she probably intended to stay a little longer in the capital. I'd give Baela a line mentioning how she wants to spend a little time with Rhaena or something, so as to explain her separation from Rhaenys.

I would highlight Rhaenys' dissatisfaction. Rightly or wrongly, she is insulted at having been locked inside her room. She is a proud woman and wants to be in charge of her own destiny, instead of being forced (yet again) down a path against her will. She wants to leave and make up her own mind. And, most importantly, she wants to get back to her granddaughters ASAP. She can tell Ser Erryk all this when he comes to free her. Throw them a couple more lines of dialogue to emphasize their motivations.

Rhaenys' goal should therefore be to get out of King's Landing. She gets separated from Ser Erryk and witnesses the coronation. She can sneak through the tunnels like in the show.

However, I cannot have Rhaenys bursting through the floor like in Looney Tunes, that part needs to GO. This means I will have to change the trajectory of Rhaenys' flight.

Now, the coronation takes place in the Dragonpit, like in the source material. In the show, it looked similar to the Colosseum, but with a dome on top, at least the part that we saw. It's supposed the be this immense structure with plenty of caverns to house the dragons.

The characters stand on some sort of podium at the far end of the ground floor. I can't tell if it has been especially erected for the coronation, but it looks too elaborate for it to be some makeshift structure. There is a sort of canopy (?) above, from which they hung Aegon's banners: a golden dragon on black. I'm not sure what Jaehaerys I's chair is doing there, though, so perhaps I would get rid of it. Aegon won't get to sit on it and it's kind of in my way.

Behind the banners, I would simply invent an entryway to some tunnel deeper inside caverns and have Rhaenys enter from that side. The doors should be opposite.

It can begin with the ground trembling a little, following by ominous sounds getting closer until Meleys rips Aegon's banners up and Rhaenys is revealed. Perhaps destroy the pillar holding up the canopy so that there is nothing else to serve as cover. In this scenario, Rhaenys has no choice but to face the Greens, because they are literally standing in her way.

Everything else mostly proceeds as usual. The characters were facing the smallfolk. At Rhaenys' approach, everyone turns towards her. The camera moves to face the characters on the podium, with the smallfolk (and the exit) now behind them.

Alicent redirects Ser Criston to Helaena and puts herself in front of Aegon. They have their last stand.

Meleys roars and Rhaenys stops to think.

She decides not to commit mass murder, sees the exist and takes flight. She's had her little outburst, she's given her warning and now she returns to her objective, which is to get the hell out of King's Landing.

The crowd actually witnesses the Queen stepping in front of a dragon for her son. Perfect propaganda material.

Smallfolk don't matter

Obviously that was a disappointing consideration from the part of the show-runners. If anyone were to get killed during Rhaenys' escape, I would emphasize it and use it later and as an anti-Black argument to fan the flames when Rhaenyra gets kicked out of King's Landing. But by having Rhaenys enter the scene from the back, the number of possible victims would be much lower.

If it is imperative to have someone killed, perhaps it can be implied in season 2 that Meleys burnt some dragonkeepers while Rhaenys was trying to mount her. This should be shown as a great loss, as dragonkeepers are brave, smart and valuable individuals, who perform an essential job for the safety of the entire city.

Potential for future scenes

Maybe have Aegon and/or Helaena forced to come to the Dragonpit themselves to feed Sunfyre and Dreamfyre because the workforce has taken a literal hit and they are still working on training new "employees". This could allow Aegon and Helaena to interact over a shared interest and would give Helaena screen time with Dreamfyre.

I'm not including Vhagar because she is too big for the Dragonpit and probably makes her lair somewhere outside King's Landing. Maybe show Aemond involving himself with selecting and training new dragonkeepers. This way you give all three siblings something to do and show them collaborating towards a shared goal.

Aegon shoveling Sunfyre's droppings during the opening episode would provide comedic relief and a great opportunity to showcase the bond between dragon and rider, as well an unusual way to introduce Sunfyre and put Aegon to work. :)

All things considered, I think this was a symbolically-charged moment that was ruined by some shoddy scenery placement, a careless disregard for the systemic violence against the general populace and a lack of properly laying out character motivations. Adding several more minutes of dialogue and re-imagining the geography of the Dragonpit a litle could have integrated this moment better within the larger narrative.

[eleonkraken]

Sprizzy Rec List

Here, take this rec list dedicated to my current favorite brain squatters. For such a small pairing there's a crazy amount of really good fic to read.

This list mainly includes 10k+ fics but there are a couple 5k+ ones in there as well. All of them are complete unless I say otherwise.

I could have included a lot more but I've already been working on this list for too long and I want to post it for you guys.

Please mind tags and warnings before you read.

Canon Era

Comprehension by MaggieMay His stance hasn't changed - he'd still sooner keelhaul his own bollocks than do Izzy Hands a favour, but an idea is already taking shape in his head - one that he's certain will have absolutely hilarious consequences in either direction, and for all it might get his throat slit, the odds still work out in favour of, for want of a better phrase, fuckery. If Izzy wants to read, Lucius can teach him.

OR: Lucius' personal approach to 'fuckery' involves lewd gay poetry, and one oblivious and feral first mate.

I'm (Not) Just a Notch in Your Bedpost, You're (Not) Just a Line in a Song by Ennaess It starts with a hand on a sleeve. None of the other crewmembers would have minded--would have thought much of the gesture at all--but no one touches Izzy. Lucius, quite accidently, realizes he would very, very, very much like to touch Izzy. Intimately.

Head and heart on fire by RustyTheTrain Everyone is back together on the Revenge, and things are fine. Until Lucius helps patch up Izzy after he gets hurt on a raid, and then can't stop thinking about him without his shirt on. It is quite annoying. And inconvenient. The last thing Lucius needs is a crush on the angry, asshole first mate Israel Hands.

by any other name by sugarybowl & wishingonalightningbolt Once upon a time, Izzy Hands had a steamy weekend with a pirate called Francis Spriggs. A few years later, he boards the Revenge and meets Spriggs' younger brother, Lucius.

Portrait of a Man on Ire by sweatervest “Yes. To sketching,” Izzy growls. “But on one condition.”Lucius lifts an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”“I sketch you.”

Modern AU

beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth by sugarybowl & wishingonalightningbolt Ed, Izzy, Fang, and Ivan make up the London-based rock band Kraken, which rocketed to fame in the 1990s. When ballad singer Stede Bonnet reaches out about a collaboration, Izzy has to work with Bonnet's songwriter, an overeager composer named Lucius, to write something that aging rockstar Ed and new-on-the-scene Stede can perform together. What's worse is that Lucius is utterly obsessed with a mysterious songwriter called Basilica, a faceless, genderless musician—and he has no idea that Izzy and Basilica are the same person.

and a silver sixpence in his shoe by CyborgShepard Izzy likes lines, likes rules. Likes to know where things start and where they finish, definite and resolved. But where the fuck does getting off to Luce begin, and how does sitting on the bridal table at Ed’s wedding with Lucius end?

Or: The one where Izzy is Ed's best man, Stede wants the most lavish wedding possible, and the person in charge of planning it is the camboy Izzy's been subscribed to for the better part of a year.

under the ashes, i'm on fire by izzyxhands Izzy's having a miserable night at Bonnet's stupid party playing nanny for Ed. Until, that is, Lucius finds him on the balcony and introduces himself. Trans!Izzy modern au.

Work in Progress by sweatervest After a disastrous interview, crime novelist Israel Hands abruptly retired, leaving his popular Detective Leyendecker series one book short of finished. For the last 10 years, he's been content to work as an editor at Edward Teach's small press. But now Ed's working on a merger with Stede Bonnet's press, and Izzy's expected to work with their star author: romance novelist L. Steele.

L. Steele turns out to be Lucius Spriggs, twenty years younger than Izzy and flirts like it's breathing. Worst of all, Lucius recognizes Izzy as Israel Hands.

Money Can(t) Buy Happiness by Blackforestfire [series] Sugar Daddy alternate universe. Lucius and Izzy have an arrangement with strict, specific rules to follow. Each installment in the series shows them drifting farther and farther away from the safety of those rules as feelings and personal growth change their dynamic.

take this sinking boat and point it home by sugarybowl & wishingonalightningbolt [part of series, you can read the Stede/Ed work for context but it's not totally necessary] Izzy supposes he gets used to having the assistant around. That doesn’t mean Izzy likes him. He’s rude, for one thing, completely fucking bitchy. He talks back, rolls his eyes, treats Izzy—treats him the way he treats authority. Dismissively, without a care in the world, as if he could take it or leave it. The most fucking annoying thing about the stupid fucking assistant is his stupid fucking dating life.

The Indignity of a Tender Touch by CloudsPassMeBy Izzy has been doing ballet for so long and he will never, never shit where he eats but he likes Lucius so fucking much.

if love is the answer (you hold on) by CloudsPassMeBy [F/F cisswap] Izzy is dragged kicking and screaming out of retirement to become Lucius’s partner. They may not be able to enter the Olympics as a same sex couple but they’re going to do their fucking best to win Worlds.

Edge of Heaven by RustyTheTrain The job wasn’t supposed to a forever kind of job, more of a until he got his shit together job. Something to keep him going and earn him a paycheck while he worked on his portfolio, freelanced, applied for internships, did what he had to get a foot through the door to the design and illustration world. So far, he hadn’t actually gotten anywhere with his plans, but he now worked five nights a week at the Revenge instead of three, lived in a shitty little apartment in a crappy part of town, spent all his money on rent, books, clothes, take away food and art supplies, and didn’t save anything. He’d be turning 30 that year and figured there was still time to change things. If he wanted to.

lucius Artpopping his pussy for izzy by CyborgShepard [series] [I can't believe I'm having to rec this title] Izzy's always glaring, always coming in here every couple of weeks to sit and brood. He doesn’t even tip, just takes up a table in the back and pretends like he’s not positively vibrating with awkward sexual frustration as he watches Lucius’ shows. And it is always Lucius’ shows he comes to watch. It’d be flattering, Lucius thinks, if Izzy wasn’t so fucking weird about it all.

in the middle of fucking nowhere by bitchlesss Lucius gets stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere with his annoying coworker. Izzy thinks about the past. Until he's too busy to do so.

Special mention

Leda House and the Kraken 'Verse by Vera_DragonMuse [series - different works in the series have different pairings, it's best to read from the beginning but there are several works that focus on Sprizzy] A modern AU that follows the entire staff of the drag bar named Revenge as well as their partners. Features drag shows, late in life coming out stories, romance in many forms, and as much found family as you could ask for.

[eyes-of-rock]

Life On Tour

Part: I

Billy Sheehan x OC

Summary: Rio is a timid journalist who gets the assignment of a lifetime. Follow around David Lee Roth and the band on the Eat Em And Smile tour and document life on the road. Is Rio up to the challenge? Maybe with a bit of help from a certain blonde bassist, she might be.

I've never been more nervous in my life. I'm shaking. My heart is pounding. I've never been called to see the editor before. I've worked here for six months, and I've never been summoned to his office. What did I do wrong? I'm trying to think of any possible mistakes I've made. This is my dream job, and I've worked hard to keep it and impress everyone. I don't want to lose it. Maybe he doesn’t like my writing or needs to cut someone because of earnings. I hope that's not the case. Yet I can't help but worry when I've been summoned to the big office.

“Warren will see you now.” The receptionist tells me as I get up and follow her to the office, where she opens the door for me.

I walk into the grand office of the magazine. Warren is sitting behind his big wooden desk and looking at the picture of the editor—stacks of articles piled around him.

“Rio, lovely to see you.” He greets, “Have a seat, please.”

He gestures to two chairs in the corner of his office facing the desk. I take a seat in one of them. I’m still feeling beyond nervous. He's being pleasant, but that doesn't mean anything. The sad thing is, even if he does fire me, I know I won't fight for myself. I've never been the type to rock the boat. I'm timid. I always have been.

“I’ve called you up here because I have an assignment for you.” He tells me. That's not what I expected, but it's a welcome surprise. I get to keep my job today.

Now, a whole new set of worries is plaguing me. Assignment? What could he possibly mean by that? This is a metal magazine we cover metal and rock acts. It's not like we do serious journalism here. My forte is reviews of live concerts. I'm too shy to interview any rock stars, even if that's my dream. Am I even good enough for whatever this is?

“Okay, what is it?”

“Well, we want to do a piece on life on the road. We need a journalist to spend the course of the American leg of the David Lee Roth tour with the band documenting it.” Warren tells me.

Does this mean he wants me to be a journalist? Why, though? Out of all the writers, I'm the least likely candidate. I'm the only one with no experience interviewing or interacting with rock stars. I'm also known for being quiet, timid and to myself.

“I’m honoured, but why me?”

“Roth agreed to under one condition, the journalist be a woman,” Warren admits, and this makes a lot more sense now.

I'm the only journalist at this magazine who's a woman. The rest are male. So I'm his only choice. I figured it had to be something along those lines. I'm ill-fitted for this, especially when it's David Lee Roth. One of the biggest names in the genre. He recently left Van Halen, and his album and tour are a big deal. I've listened to it, and it's perfect. This is something that's a huge deal and would sell a lot of magazines. I'm not sure I'm up to the challenge. Yet I don't want to be the reason we lose this chance. That's a surefire way to get fired. I'm so nervous I'm shaking.

“Okay, I'll do it.” I manage to choke out, trying to hide my nervousness, even though every part of me screams this is a bad idea. I must push that fear aside and remember this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. So many people would kill for this chance. You can do this, Rio, or I sure hope so.

____________________________

I take a deep breath as the tour manager leads me to the tour bus of David Lee Roth and his band—Billy Sheehan on bass, Steve Vai on guitar and Gregg Bissonette on drums. I remind myself so I don't look like a nervous idiot and mess it up. I know who is who. For one, I am a fan of this kind of music, and I also study some photos of the band so I know for sure.

“This is the journalist who will accompany us on this tour.” The Tour manager tells the band, all sitting at the front of the tour bus.

Dave lowers the sunglasses he's wearing down his nose to get a better look at me. That action makes me feel a bit uncomfortable. I'm not used to being examined. I'm used to being invisible, and that's how I prefer it.

“She’s not who I expected when I asked for a female journalist,” Dave comments to the tour manager, sliding the glasses back up.

I look down at myself. I guess I wouldn't be. I'm sure he was picturing some long-legged vixen of a woman, and he gets me. I'd be disappointed, too. I'm not one of those girls. I'm not filled with confidence and sensuality. I don't belong here at all. I'm only here because there were no other options.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Dave asks me, making me make eye contact with the man who insulted me. I'm not offended he has every right. Most people have the same reaction to me. I'm used to it.

“Rio,” I tell him. I waited for him to comment on how Rio sounds like an exotic dancer's name or doesn't match me. I've heard that my whole life. I hate that my parents named me that.

“Have you ever heard of a short skirt Rio?” Dave asks me.

“Yes,” I reply.

“Well, maybe think of wearing one.” Dave suggests, “This is a rock band, not an office.”

“Sorry,” I say, unable to look up; I feel so embarrassed. I thought dressing professionally in a blouse, blazer, pencil shirt, pantyhose, and black stilettos was the right move. I forgot this is a rock band and rockers like sexy women. I don't even own any clothes like that. Most of what I brought were ripped jeans, band t-shirts, leather jackets, boots and sneakers. That's my typical style. What am I going to do now?

I make my way to the only free seat. It's in the corner, out of the way of everyone else, where I should be. I sit down, looking down at the notebook I brought to make notes. After all, this is a diary of life on the road with the band. I wanted to be as detailed as possible. I’m holding back tears. I can't cry and make it even worse for myself. Of course, I'd make a wrong first impression and mess it all up. I should have said no.

“Are you okay?” I hear someone ask from beside me; I look up to see who it is.

It's Billy Sheehan, the bass player in Dave’s band. He has a genuine look in his blue eyes. He's not just asking to be polite. He's genuinely caring. Which, oddly, is comforting. It means maybe not everyone here hates me already.

“I’m fine.” I lie, forcing a smile. He doesn't have to know how much I feel I don't belong here. How I already feel so alone. More alone than usual.

“I'm sorry about Dave.” He apologizes, “He had an idea in his head. He's used to those being made into reality.”

“It's okay. I never live up to expectations.” I tell him, feeling sad at that statement. I wish I did, but I never do.

“No one ever does,” Billy says, “Oh, I'm Billy by the way.”

“I know.” I smile at him genuinely,

“I’m Steve.” Steve Vai waves over at me, “And this is Gregg.”

Steve points over to Gregg Bissonette who's sitting next to him.

“Hi.” Gregg says, giving me a little wave.

“Nice to meet you guys,” I tell them.

“Do you play cards?” Steve asks me.

“Yes,” I tell him, not sure where this is going.

“Do you like beer?” Steve continues to ask me.

“Sure,” I tell him, I'm not much of a drinker, but when I do drink it's usually a beer.

“Great!” Steve says enthusiastically, “Come over and join us.”

“Okay,” I say, sliding in next to Billy and across from Steve. Steve and Billy are tall guys, so next to them, I'm sure I look like a little mouse.

I suddenly feel a lot better though. Yes, it's been a rough start with Dave, but at least everyone else is nice. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

[hoshiina]

pairing: kuroda yukinari x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: you are a manager of the Sohoku team and he's a member of the Hakogaku team— the two of you are not meant to be

warnings: spoilers of the second inter-high

The two of you were not meant to be. The gods had not meant for you to get together, and the world did not lend a helping hand either. You were a year younger than him, a manager of the Souhoku road race team, and he was a member of the Hakone Academy road race team. It wasn't meant to work out.

However, there was no way for you to not fall in love. Not when he was the one you weren't allowed to fall for.

You could never forget, it was your second year at the inter-high as a manager, but it was particularly busy. Maybe it had to do with the fact that it was the first day with all the nerves, or maybe it was the fact that it was really, really hot that day and you failed to realize. However, you fainted while carrying drinks back to your team's tent after most members had crossed the goal for that day. It was a horrible time and place to faint as well— you were avoiding the main walkways and trying to walk under the trees behind the tents to get as much shade as possible, and it was a little after the main bulk of people had left. You were unaware of everything that happened after, but you later hear that Kuroda had been the one to carry you back to your team's tent. Apparently, he had gotten patched up and wanted to try walking to see how his condition was. He was covered in bandages and with an injured arm and leg, he still carried you all the way back, after finishing the first part of a race.

By the time you were up, he was already long gone, but the idea of him doing that for you was enough for you to run out to try to find him. You had no luck that time, as they had already moved to their hotel, but Onoda kindly asked Manami where they were staying for you, as you seemed so hung up on it.

You had roughly a minute, maybe a little more to talk to him, but that was about it. You didn't wish to either, he had a race tomorrow and he had wounds to heal. The fact that he came down to meet you was more than enough for you.

"Thank you so much for earlier today, I heard from everyone else," you said, bowing deep.

"Oh, stop that. It's all good, I'm glad you're up," he said. "Feeling better?"

"Yes, I feel great now, thank you," you said. His bandages looked horrible. "I can't believe you did this for me when your injuries are..."

Then he laughs. You didn't think he was one to laugh. "I was skeptical too... but you were super light and I was glad to know that my arm's still fine," he said, but you knew he was being nice and acting strong. There was no way it wasn't tough.

"Oh, I won't keep you for too long, I'll get in trouble if I bother an athlete before a race any more than I already have," you said with a smile. "Again, thank you so much for today. It really meant the world to me."

Slowly you walked away to leave so he felt comfortable to walk back in. At the time, you thought he was being kind as he watched you walk back, but in reality, he was subconsciously mesmerized by your smile.

You did not get another chance to talk to him that inter-high, but you were always watching him. When he finished the race, when he was on the podium. Everytime he was in your field of vision, you noticed your eyes would follow him. Later, you would greatly regret not talking to him more, but at the moment all you could do was stare.

Months went by and you felt silly after realizing just how much you still thought about him. You couldn't forget him and somehow your feelings only continued to grow, but there was nothing much you could do about it. You didn't know anyone in Hakone Academy directly, and you really didn't feel like asking one of your teammates to ask their friend for Kuroda's contact. Not to mention, he was a third year so you couldn't count on next year's inter-high either.

However, that was alright, because you hadn't expected anything from this to begin with. It was just your one-sided feelings that no one would ever find out about, and that was okay with you. It's not that you were going to give up, but rather that you didn't expect much to begin with. You were more than happy to continue to harbor these feelings, especially while they weren't in the way of anyone else. One day they were bound to disappear.

But like fate, a week later Kinjou had come to visit a practice and he had brought Arakita with him for fun. The entire team was thrilled to see Kinjou again as he helped them train some more, and Arakita watched around as he complained, explaining that he didn't want to be here at all. Apparently he wasn't going to go around helping a former rival team practice either, which was actually a very fair reason.

You knew it was rude and you were very intimidated by Arakita, but all you could think of since he arrived was Kuroda's contact. He must know— and you wanted to know so badly. Was that the right decision though? Shouldn't you just give up and let it go instead? No, you had regretted not talking to him more before and this was your first chance after months. You would be so dumb to let it go just like that.

So just before he was about to leave, you called to him, insanely nervous.

"Arakita-san," you said and he looked back.

"Hah? Oh, the manager?" he asked and you nodded. "Have we talked before?"

"N-no," you said. "So I realize this is terribly strange for me to ask, but could I um..."

"Oh, just spit it out."

"Would you be able to tell me Kuroda-san's contact?" you said very quickly and quietly. Your eyes were glued to the floor and you were too embarrassed to look up.

Immediately after you heard laughter and you were unsure how to react. You didn't think he would laugh at you.

"Is this what I think it is?" He said, far more amused now than he was the entire time he was here. You didn't say anything but it must've shown on your face because he continued to go on. "When did Kuroda find himself a cute little crush?"

"No, it's not him, it's me," you said. "Actually, he probably doesn't remember me..."

"Oh, he's rude and annoying but give him a little more credit than that. If he did something that would make you fall for him, I'm sure that he must remember. He's not one to do nice things, let alone charm people," he said. "And I think you should ask him yourself, rather."

"No, he was very nice! For him to carry someone he didn't know back while... hold on what?"

He had turned his phone on and called a contact named Kuroda.

"Oh, gosh, please don't give it to me. I don't know what to say," you said.

"What do you mean! You were the one who wanted his—" he started to say but he was cut off by a voice from the phone.

"Arakita-san? How rare for you to call," you could hear the voice say faintly. "Did something happen? I'm going to get back to practice soon so if you could be quick..."

It was him. It was Kuroda. The voice you wanted to hear for the past few months was so close and no longer just in your head.

"No, if he's busy then it's okay," you whispered frantically. At this rate his only impression of you is going to be bothersome.

"Why are you suddenly a wimp now considering you were able to come ask me before?" Arakita asked.

"Hmm? What are you talking about?" Kuroda asked from the phone. "A wimp?"

"Oh, my bad, my bad," Arakita replied to him. "Not you. I'm actually at Sohoku right now."

"What? Sohoku? Why?" Kuroda asked, confused. "Oh, then can you see if their managers are okay? One of them fainted during the inter-high a couple of months ago."

Your eyes widened, absolutely shocked. He remembered. He cared. Arakita looked over at you and your face said all he needed to know. Kuroda was talking about you.

"Kuroda-chan are you in love..." he teased and you genuinely thought it was over.

"Oh, shut up," Kuroda replied quietly, and unfortunately you couldn't hear. "What if someone hears you!"

Arakita immediately started to laugh and you heard a faint 'shut up, stop laughing!' from the phone. "Here," Arakita said, passing you the phone. "Your turn."

Shocked you quickly took the phone.

"What? Who's turn? Was someone listening??" Kuroda asked, terribly confused and panicking slightly.

"Um, hello. I'm the one who collapsed at the inter-high who you helped," you said carefully.

"Oh gosh, were you listening?" he asked.

"Sorry, I could hear... Not the last part though!" you said and he sighed, relieved.

"Thank goodness," he said. You were confused and curious, but you had something else to ask.

"I asked Arakita-san for your um... contact... and he kindly called you so I could ask you myself. So would it be alright for me to ask you..." you started to say.

"Of course!" Kuroda replied a little too quickly and enthusiastically, which he beated himself up for seconds later. "I mean, I would love to have your contact as well, if that's okay."

And that was the start. The two of you had many more obstacles to simply get to know each other, but he was the one for you, and you were the one for him.