#I didn’t plan on writing almost 1000 words to accompany this but what can I say

[firelilysky]

Zukka Week Day Five: Zuko Joins the Gaang Early | Gay/Bi Awakening

[valaks]

Hey Valaks! I love your blog and your writing!

Please could you do 1, 10 and 18 for the writing asks?? 🌺

Thank you for the ask! I have added a cut to hopefully not be that person clogging up the feed XD

1. Tell us about your current project(s) – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

I have a few collabs outstanding like Gemini and a Kabir/Alex sequel to Reunion (It’s rated T at the most so still kid friendly) with Lupin and Devil Went Down to Georgia with Galimau. My utter love for both of my collab partners for pulling me through at a time when I’ve been really struggling. I have a WIPs List but I’ll confess to not having touched most of them in quite sometime (partly from life, partly because I’m not sure how interesting they’d be to anyone else other than me which influences my writing more than I would like to admit):

Good Intentions: Smithers never thought he’d be anyone’s moral compass, he was no angel to sit in anyone’s shoulder but trying to keep Alex Rider from following in the ruthless footsteps of his father or worse his former handler, Alan Blunt is as close to hell as he can imagine. (Wherein Alex becomes head of MI6 we watch his morality slip away form the eyes of an increasingly frustrated and heartbroken Smithers - it all culminates when Alex uses a child “just as an informant, simple information gathering” but hidden behind the charming smile of John Rider and the brutal coldness of Alan Blunt’s words is Alex Rider dying as he says them (Smithers just hopes there’s still a part of the boy he once knew in there to mourn)

Walk the Line: Alex thought he was done with SCORPIA. But they kept creeping back into his life in the most unexpected of ways. He thought he could at least count on it being on the other side until he gets teamed up with Walker, his former classmate and current CIA spy. Unfortunately he still hasn’t been able to figure out whose side Walker is really on - attempted deep cover op like his dad, repatriated rogue spy back on the “good” side, or SCORPIA double agent? He doesn’t know but at least he’s nice....in that obnoxious American way.

Temperamental: (Sequel to Sentimental which isn’t all that popular and you would need to read it for the sequel but basically amnesiac Yassen whose memories stop pre John’s betrayal set during the Stormbreaker mission and features him trying to come to grips with the use of chemical weapons against children and how to handle Alex once he snaps back to reality which is where this starts) Yassen had promised Alex Rider that he would be safe from the world of spying but fate had other ideas. In the days after Sarov’s failed plan, Yassen scrambles to find where MI6 have hidden his wayward charge without drawing Rothman’s attention. A request from one of their existing clients to look into suspicious activity at his son’s former school prompts Yassen to investigate under the guise of offering security. He should have known where there was trouble there would be Alex.

10. How would you describe your writing process?

Lordy do I ever not have a good answer for this. Typically it involves an idea hitting me and then the determination: would this idea work better as a short to post on tumblr (because the set up would take away the tension or would require a multi chapter which is not really my strength), as a prompt to lob out into the ether for someone better and brighter to touch on, or a fic. Once fic is decided I determine whose perspective the fic would be the most interesting from either because it would create the most tension or their internal monologue/background knowledge would add the most to it. Then the summary is written and a title is chosen. If it’s something I’m really passionate about and I already have it in my head I tend to write it all in one go, if there’s more I need to chew on then it’s a series of dates with the Evil Writing App. The final determination is whether it’s good enough for Valaks or if it gets sent to an alt account.

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

Allegedly. I’ll try to go in order of posting -

Ruthless has a sequel where Alex just goes *quiet* once the initial dust as settled it’s unnerving to everyone because they’re not used to having to wonder just what Alex is thinking, at least not behind closed doors but what happened isn’t exactly something that can be recovered from easily, not when Alex isn’t sure who all’s in on it no matter what they’ve told him. Failure is the AU where I considered what would happen to Alex to make him want to torture.

Alibi was originally going to have Yassen show up in the end but I found it far more fascinating if MI6 was just testing Alex so out went Yassen and in went Ben. The sequel to it was torn apart and turned into Warm Reception because I wanted to trope flip SCORPIA comes to Brooklands and decided that it was more logical to have a small fight in Mrs. Bedfordshire’s lobby than anywhere else and I wanted to explore some side characters instead of Ben.

Providence’s sequel thoughts ended up inspiring Gentleman’s Agreement but I did write a small short for it “Yassen and Alex encounter each other on mission. Surprisingly they are working to mostly the same goal - Yassen needs to kill the millionaire who Alex needs to get information from. “I suppose I could answer some questions for you, Sasha. /In Russian/“ “Is now really the time for a language lesson?” he ground out in frustration but the man pointedly ignored him “/Fine but I don’t know some of the words/“ “/Then there is no better way to learn/“

I mentioned the Sentimental sequel but changing Sarov to come first and probable for almost a month before Yassen figures out he’s missing made the most sense. It was also a bit of fun at the Yassen would absolutely take Alex away from MI6....just to throw him in a school and throw away the key. Almost had him send him to Point Blanc but decided that wouldn’t quite fit all that well and wouldn’t be as interesting as if Alex had already gotten his feet back under him with MI6 and now sees that Yassen was right that MI6 would just use him until he’s dead but that doesn’t mean Alex wants to be anywhere near Yassen. Julia Rothman might have other ideas when she finds out what her newest second in command is hiding.

Gentleman’s Agreement.....there’s a lot of thoughts on Sequels and AUs, a lot of them have been written by better people, but that fic was written in 45 minutes so there wasn’t much time to recharacterize or change scenes. It did get Turncoat aka the Alex saves Yassen fic I wanted so badly.

Blood Brothers is a fic I really worked hard on considering how John would feel about his son being thrown into SCORPIA assuming Alex was of age. A rocky marriage was characterization that didn’t quite fit what I imagined would have happened but did fit the story so it stayed in. It was a fic that was supposed to get expanded on - the competition between Hunter and Yassen and Nile and Alex who is desperate to beat his Dad and his “apprentice”. I think two teenagers thrown against each other with a bit of a bone to pick, especially Yassen and Alex who can both hold a grudge even if one runs hot and the other runs cold, would have been compelling and a little fun but the premise and specifically John’s characterization doesn’t quite work out to me.

Found and Legends both have their plotting done but it’ll never see the light of day

Little Moments and Sweetest Thing were my guilty pleasure writing pieces for a while and I have about 1000 DMs of scenes for both of them that are lost to the sands of time and an embarrassing amount of self indulgence

Mates has a follow up ending for those who needed resolution in the comments of it. I’m not sure I did a good job of showing that Tom was in a semi abusive relationship since a lot of people seemed to blame him for him and Alex’s breakup. Most of my headcanons for how their relationship goes have them splitting much sooner just because of Tom’s own home life and either being unable to relate/talk to Alex and drifting away because his Mom throwing a plate at his head isn’t being hung over crocodiles but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt or because Alex is just too dangerous/jumpy to be thrown back into a school environment and lashes out even unintentionally especially not under the pressure of being seen as a failure. School is also a barometer of just how much he’s lost of himself and his childhood, bonus points for Alex being completely upfront with Tom about everything he’s done

In My Sights has an AU where this is all post Christmas at Gunpoint and Yassen is there because he knows Ian is already at Sayle’s factory and will have to be...handled. So two weeks of just getting Alex trained for the protection he might need, connecting him to resources, etc. Ian finding out that Yassen had been there was part of a draft at one point which was included Alex wondering about an all too sincere goodbye from Ian “who never hugged him” but I can’t find the snippet anymore ;__;

A Warm Reception was an alternate version. Originally I wanted it to be Alex watching his last chance at normality slip from his fingers and then the crushing realization that it was something that was his own doing, not even MI6 but Skoda who he had picked a fight with and the accompanying breakdown but then decided that Mrs. Bedfordshire was the right way to go upon writing the summary. Because everyone loves some Outsider POV

Adopted was supposed to be a one chapter throw away trope flip of K Unit adopts Alex. I kept it pretty consistent with Amitai and Lil Lupin’s K Units, tried to add in some more characterization just in how they treated some of the details. It has an alt ending/chapter where they find out Alex is Cub when they pull him from Three’s tender mercies almost by accident. I was persuaded into light humored fluff via guilt trip.

The Truth and Other Deadly Weapons has Ben acting exactly like he think he would in front of everyone but my AU was that this interaction happened in the field and absolutely shattered Ben’s trust in him partly because he had worked for the other side and partly because even if it ‘wasn’t as bad as it looks’ it showed a severe lack of judgment. It also featured several chapters of Alex running into the glass ceiling that is having “Member Malogosto Class of 2004” on your resume. Was going to feature Alex running into Walker as well and into problems within MI6 and the CIA but that was eventually cut and it was kept to one chapter.

Guardian....Guardian holds a very special place in my heart. I was given the prompt of a Monster Fic and I wrote what I knew but the interesting parts were all the ones that come after the story but might come across to a general audience as Hogwarts School of Prayers and Miracles. The plotting done post this was going to feature baby Angel Alex reuniting with his parents but...they were strangers to him and so he stayed with Yassen more and more, followed him, learned from him....it encompassed everything from the dynamics of broken families to reflections on theology and references from the Good Book....which is why it’ll never see the fandom but has a very special place in my heart.

In another, more perfect world Glocking Around the Christmas Tree is the Die hard fic this fandom deserves but as Lupin and I untangled the plot of the movie more and more we just couldn’t make it into anything that would be coherent on paper so it was changed and changed and is now a half finished sad abomination that sits on my works list only because Lupin would kill me if I took it down.

Hot Shot was supposed to feature my current favorite character that is not Nile Abara, John Crawley but I wimped out and changed it at the end because I swore I would write the Crawley fic that we all need. Hear me out: John Crawley knew and worked with John and Ian Rider, was respected by both of them, was recruited by SCORPIA within one year in the field, is the Chief of Staff of MI6, the man who “no one gets a knife in the back without him signing off” and is also the man who walks his dog to check on Alex. There’s a mentorship waiting to happen there, preferably in a nice work study program during college where Alex finally gets to see the repercussions of his missions and Crawley helps try and pull him back from the black mark that SCORPIA would have put on him.

My personal fluffy favorite is the spinoff of Devil Went Down to Georgia where Joe Byrne did pull Alex out post Skeleton Key and brought him home. There’s a pretty extended one about where Tom ends up after Mates. There’s also an actual sequel but ask me no questions and all.

Skipping a few collabs and Febuwhump fics but Burning Questions was just supposed to be Branded - a fic where upon being captured by Razim he is brought in and forcibly branded to differentiate the appearances of Alex and Julius (since Razim has decided to have him killed after shooting the Secretary of State). As a result of the pain levels spiking when Alex actually sees that the SCORPIA logo is branded onto his cheek Razim considers that emotional pain might be something to investigate. There’s a couple thousand words on it, one day I might polish it up.

First Impressions is supposed to be a mirror verse of Alex working for MI6 which includes Three as Blunt, Rothman as Jones and of course Sagitta as K Unit while he’s up against his father as Yassen and Yassen as Crawley. But it was cut down significantly even if the ideas are pretty fun to consider.

Sorry this was probably more than you bargained for but it was fun to get everything out there so thank you for asking

[kakloins]

Hey, I really like your blog (your fics are seriously amazing 💖) and wanted to request fluff w Jotaro x f!reader. I had this idea that maybe reader is part of the sdc and she gets hurt in order to save Jotaro and then he confesses? (You can write something else if you want, I don't rlly mind 💕) Anyways, hope you're having a great day!

aww thank you so much 💕💕!!! im actually pretty new to writing so im glad you like my stuff heheh

also....this is a very good request i ended up writing 1000+ words again whooPS

warning: slight blood mention

Although you couldn’t exactly pinpoint it, there was something that just felt off. The moment you and Jotaro left the others in order to ask some locals about Dio’s whereabouts, a tense feeling appeared deep in your gut that just couldn’t seem to escape you. You felt anxious—like you were being watched and followed at the same time—yet a quick glance at your surroundings dismissed those paranoid thoughts almost immediately. There was nothing unusual, there were no suspicious figures hanging around or anything out of the ordinary.

So why did you feel this way…?

“Hey,” Your thoughts were interrupted by the tall man next to you. Jotaro must have noticed you looking around cautiously, as he looked down at you besides him, gently nudging you with his elbow. “What’s wrong? You’re acting strange—or at least stranger than usual.”

The sudden contact caused you to let out a barely audible gasp in surprise, though you quickly composed yourself once your brain processed Jotaro as the one who was speaking to you. He was still looking down at you with his green eyes staring into yours expectantly, waiting for response.

You looked away slightly from his serious gaze, laughing nervously. “Ah—It’s nothing. I guess I just feel a little weird is all. Probably because of the heat, you know?” 

It was the most likely reason you could think of. The harsh Egyptian heat wasn’t like any other heat you had experienced, and it easily could’ve been the source of your somewhat anxious feelings. Though you weren’t positive it was true, you had to quickly come up with an excuse so Jotaro wouldn’t worry about you; after all, you both had to focus on what you came out here to do in the first place.

His gaze stayed transfixed on you and his eyebrows lowered—he seemed slightly concerned, and at the same time unbelieving of your answer, as if he was going to ask you if the heat was really the real reason for your odd behavior. Yet after another second, he simply turned his head back towards the front of him and looked on ahead. “If you start to feel any worse, tell me. We’ll head back.” He stated bluntly.

You held back a sigh of relief, grateful that he didn’t press you any further on the matter. “Alright.” You agreed.

For the next few minutes while you were both walking and asking people about Dio's whereabouts, everything was calm, and though you tried to ignore it, the same eerie feeling resided within you.

Then it suddenly became much more intense.

You stopped walking, frantically looking around, with all previous doubts gone and now positive someone dangerous was near. Jotaro stopped in his tracks and looked back at you, his expression a mixture of confusion and mostly concern.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He yelled.

Before you even had time to respond, you saw something through the corner of your eye. It was just a blur, but it was heading towards you both fast. There was no doubt that it was an enemy stand user’s attack. Before you could even blink it was already a couple of feet in front of you, about to make impact.

Your mind was racing, trying to think of what you could do—there was no time to summon your stand, that was out of the question. At the last moment, you decided there was only one thing you could do, and that was potentially save your close friend, who started this journey to save his mother.

While Jotaro was still looking at you, you yelled, suddenly leaping forward and pushed him with all your strength, causing him to stumble a few feet and fall towards the ground.

All he saw afterwards was your body and a spray of blood as you flew back, hitting the ground with a heavy thud and laying motionless.

...

You had ended up losing consciousness after the impact, though you had no idea how long. When you started to open your eyes, Jotaro was kneeling besides you. His face was one of pure fear as he looked down at you, examining your bruised and bloodied form. 

"Jotaro…?" You quietly groaned.

His eyes quickly shot back up to your face and widened. He was breathing heavily, sweating, and just looked like an overall mess. You had never seen him like this before—so different from his usual self.

He softly muttered your name as you tried to sit up. "Are you alright?"

You let out a small groan as you adjusted yourself, accompanied with a bitter laugh as blood still oozed out of the wound on your midsection. “Y-yeah, I think so. It’s not as bad it looks. I don’t think I got hit anywhere vital...”

That’s right—there was an enemy stand user nearby that had attacked you both. You perked up, quickly scanning the area, trying to see if the attacker was still nearby. He could end up striking again at any time while you were still vulnerable.

You looked at the man next to you and spoke with a hint of panic to your tone. “Jotaro, what happened to the—“ 

Before you can finish the sentence, a pair of large arms are wrapped around you, holding you tight. Jotaro brought you closer to him, holding you against his chest and lowering his head into the crook of your neck. Your breath got caught in your throat, preventing you from uttering a single word as you were pulled against him, and your cheeks started heating up instantly at the contact. It was just so intimate—you could feel his chest heave with his breathing and his warm breath on your neck.

He let out a deep sigh of relief. “I thought you were dead. God, I don’t know what I would’ve done if that were true. I was scared shitless.”

There was a gentleness in his voice that you had never heard from him before, and it made you all the more confused and flustered. Though another part of you couldn't help but also felt guilty for frightening him, so much so that he'd end up embracing you. Slowly, you reciprocated the hug without even thinking, wrapping your arms around him as well.

"I'm okay, Jotaro." A small laugh escaped your lips as your hands continued to roam across the expanse of his back, rubbing him comfortingly. "I won't leave you that easily, y'know. I love being with you way too much for that." 

He lifted his head up from it's position near your neck, looking directly into your warm eyes. His own expression was still soft, with all hints of his typical serious expression gone as he looked at your own. "I…"

Jotaro's words trailed off as if he was still thinking of how to put his thoughts into words. As he saw you waiting expectantly while looking at him, you noticed his cheeks become a shade darker as he looked off to the side. Then he took a deep breath.

"I… love being with you, too. I want you to stay with me for as long as possible–I don't know if you feel the same way, but…"

In an instant, your heart rate skyrocketed to a rapid speed. As you looked at the man holding you, his red face half hidden with his hat, it was apparent what he was actually trying to tell you and how much weight those words had.

It was Jotaro's own way of confessing his feelings and asking if you felt the same without directly saying it. Maybe he had planned to tell you when you both left the others to question locals by yourselves, but you never would have guessed he felt that way about you, even if you were closer to him than the other crusaders. Then again… a memory flashed back to you of Polnareff smiling goofily as you and Jotaro once again decided to sit next to each other while traveling to your next destination.

The silence that lingered in the air for a moment following his words was tense. Jotaro was still looking off to the side, avoiding your gaze.

You decided to break that silence and spare him the stress. "Of course I feel the same way. Why do you think I protected you from that attack before?" Your arms then wrapped around Jotaro, pulling him back into a soft embrace. "I love you. I couldn’t risk you getting hurt like that." Your voice was quiet, but still plenty loud enough for him to get the point.

You both remained quietly in each other's arms for a few moments as his own were wrapped around you following your own confession, just enjoying the intimacy of being so close to each other. Then, Jotaro stood up, offering you a hand and pulling you up. When you were finally standing besides him, however, he didn’t let go.

A large smile appeared on your face, and Jotaro offered a small grin of his own. “Alright then. Let’s head back and get your wounds treated.”

You nodded, then started walking with him, still holding each other’s hand. The day didn’t go exactly how you thought it would, but as you felt Jotaro’s hand holding your own, minus the slight injury, you certainly couldn’t complain at the sudden turn of events.

[endless-array-of-tom]

Stress Reliever [loki x reader]

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Title: Stress-Relievers

Summary: You were an unusual young lad, the Avengers could all agree on that. You were undeniably a strong and bright young independent individual, but there was something you greatly lacked— confidence. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel your abilities and skills were good enough, you were among the best in combat. It was just… an aching feeling that remained for far too long, at the worst of times. So, you’ve had stress-relievers to help you along the way. One day you’re on another mission with Loki, and your anxiety strikes back, so you quickly began to do something to distress. Something, Loki didn’t expect someone would do in the midst of a mission.

Word Count: Roughly 1000-1500 words

A/n: It’s a bit rushed, I apologize. I tried to make it seem better but overall I think I messed up a bit in some parts. Thank you for taking the time to read.

Being an Avenger didn’t mean you had problems normal people had, sometimes they were on a much higher scale. And this time, it defiantly was.

You, were someone dependable in the Avengers, earning your spot for not only your wits but for your combat-style and technique. You weren’t very magical, either, you knew a few decent spells to help aid you psychically, but that was about it. Nothing fancy.

Everyone was grateful that you were apart of the team, but there was something they all had to help you with; something that had been bothering you for a while.

Your anxiety, and stress levels…

It wasn’t always bad, it wasn’t. There were plenty of times that were accompanied by great, treasurable memories that will forever remain between you all. You could be having the best day of your life…

But anything in the world could trigger it, unfortunately.

You’ve tried for years. When you revealed it to the Avengers Tony had attempted almost every fast, and easier ways to handle it.

Deep breathing exercises. Calming and soothing sounds. Essential oils. Positivity classes. Yoga. Focus sessions. Journaling/writing, poetry. Considerable well-known outlets to reduce stress (music, art, reading, etc.), but it seemed none had really helped. You had taken a personal liking to some, but none seemed overly helpful when your stress came daunting you.

Weirdly enough, food helped you. Water, food, sweets, had. It wasn’t necessarily healthy, you knew that, but the combination of food and your sessions of calming helped tremendously; the Avengers never questioned your random sessions, since it was just something they’d have grown accustomed to over the years. Everyone had their own problems in The Avengers, it was just the fact that yours was much more visible, especially throughout the rough years you’ve had.

But this. This was an entirely different story because it seemed nothing was working.

You were on a mission with the Avengers and assigned along with Loki to venture out and prevent a planned assassination, while the others would distract and handle the rest at hand.

However, in the midst of fighting and protecting the so-called man, you somehow managed to lose him. You and Loki had your hands tied around your backs fighting, and his dumbass ran off.

So of course, the first wave of anxiety and stress rushed through you, like an electric shock; sending signals to every nerve in your body to have a full-fledged panic. You were almost paralyzed, staring at the rocks and the distant sounds of battle, racking your brain for any type of way to not breakdown. Your fingers began to intertwine with one another, focusing on your breathing as Loki raged out loud with a series of curses.

“You’d think that if we were protecting the man, he’d be smart enough to stay put. No wonder they wanted to kill the man, he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, now is he? I can’t believe he’d--”

Loki turned to you after he noticed your stunned silence, and gaped.

“Oh dear, are you alright?” He questioned, watching you quizzically as you suddenly blinked, breath being knocked out of you suddenly. You stared up at Loki’s frame, gripping your hair.

“Where is he? I don’t know where he is? Why would he suddenly run off? What if he’s dead because I couldn’t get there in time? Why am I still here?” You began ranting, hands rotating/flailing around in circular motions as you tried to gain air, walking back and forth in the process.

“Wait, what’s going on? Are you okay?” He asked again, unaware that you were having a panic attack, mixed with a nervous breakdown (poor loki). Funny thing was, Loki didn’t know how to calm someone, nor did he know your situation currently (that, was pretty obvious though). His eyes tore away from your face as you dove into the light fanny-pack, wondering what you could contain in there that would help you. He stuttered over his words at the sight.

“Did… did you bring chocolate on this mission?!?” He asked, his voice louder than he intended it to be. You seemed to flinch at the sudden pitch, before turning your attention back to the

“It’s stress… chocolate,” you muttered, opening the package and proceeding to take nibble while Loki fumed.

“BUT WHY? AT A TIME LIKE THIS?!” Loki roared back, genuinely confused and astonished that you’d be thinking about eating at a time like this.

“ASSASSINATIONS STRESS ME OUT, OKAY?! WHETHER I’M PROTECTING OR THE VICTIM!” You barked at him, “AND IT DOESN’T HELP WHEN I’VE SCREWED UP. I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHERE I AM, NOR DO I KNOW WHERE HE IS...” You carried on, liquid just barely forming among the corners of your eyes.

Loki gulped uncomfortably, hands raising up wearily as he approached you. “I apologize, but I need you to calm down. It’s not all, entirely, your fault,” he spoke, hoping to gain a small laugh from you. Instead, a scoff was thrown his way.

“I can’t, that’s the problem.” You grumbled out, “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, but nothing’s helped. One way or another, my stress gets the getter of me…”

“Take deep breaths.”

Your eyes widened as you stared at Loki, before curving down into an unsettling look. “I’ve done that already, it doesn’t work—“

“Just do it.” He growled, easily making you comply within a second. You closed your eyes, trying your best to relax your shoulders as you sharply inhaled through your nose. You stopped again and began to block the sounds of gunshots as you exhale through your parted lips.

“Keep doing it, ignore everything else around you, and focus on your breaths,” Loki instructed, as you nodded slowly, breathing again.

Out of nowhere, you felt a pair of cool, soothing hands brush against the temples of your head; your breath hitched.

“Relax, continue your breathing method.” You tried your best, continuing on for a bit more until you heard his voice again.

“I can help you, darling. But I’d have to help you with this problem mentally. And of course, I can’t do that without your permission… may I?”

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of this as a trap or some type of joke. Maybe a chance for potential blackmail in the future? Loki, the God of Mischief, had asked permission to not only look inside your mind but help you?

“Sure,” you croaked out, hopeful that you wouldn’t regret your decision. Loki let out a small sigh before you felt his hands off your head again.

“Alright. Continue your breathing, and if you feel uncomfortable you can tell me to stop at any given moment.” He explained you nodded as you started again.

This time, his touch felt different. It was not only cool but strangely more gentle. Promptly, you felt heat. Golden, would be a strange way to put it, but exactly it.

Despite his cool fingers, it remained a soft, warm feeling. It felt addicting, exhilarating, in fact. Soon enough, he had drawn away, and you opened your eyes slowly.

Face-to-face with him, you stared into his tempting irises, before turning away. “Unfortunately it won’t be forever, it was a simple mind trick to help you a bit after the mission, I’m afraid. It will stop, and your stress will come back—“

You did it unexpectedly. Your arms wrapped around him, pure bliss igniting within you. “Thank you,” you whispered to him. “Thank you.” You spoke again.

And for the first time, you weren’t afraid. You weren’t scared.

[scribeofmorpheus]

Robin’s Girl Finale

Pairing: Robin x (OC) Clara | Steve Harrington x Reader

Sequel to: Meet Cute | Chapter List

Chapter Title: Love is a Battlefield | Words: 4k

Note: Okay so 1. I love Clara and Robin 1000% more now and I’m sad to see them go, but I’m happy with the ending even if it leaves things open -I may do a Christmas special again down the road, see where everyone ended up, but I’m also really happy with this ending. It’s been a pleasure to write some fluff for Robin! Want more Stranger Things? read His Girl Tuesday’s Prologue!

If you enjoyed this story don’t be afraid to like, reblog or comment. I don’t bite. Taglist is open just send an ask. 

Playlist by Ari ♥ 

~

The lights swelled like a kaleidoscopic rainbow. Vibrations from the band’s speakers turning the floor into an erratic heartbeat. You, Clara and Robin, formed a triangle at the centre of lively inebriated masses. Swaying, shuffling, giggling and seeing through a blurry lens –everything was pleasantly numb. The euphoria of living in the moment, coupled with copious amounts of alcohol, chased all the worries and problems that plagued your mind since your fight with Steve.

You would occasionally catch glimpses of Robin and Clara blushing or touching fingertips lightly, inching towards each other like magnets as time passed, hair flipped to hide twinkles of joyous emotions. The only times they’d part was when they noticed you drifting away from them or when an unwanted guy tried to butt in.

When your plastic cup was empty, you tumbled into Clara and shouted with a numb tongue over the bass, “Mmmmm gonna ge’ a refill!”

Clara squinted her eyes at you, not having heard through your slurs. Robin leaned in to repeat what you said, “She’s gonna get a refill!”

Clara made an O-face before giving you a thumbs up.

You pushed and shoved your way to the bar, but when you held out your hand to grab onto the back of a bar stool, you misjudged the distance and tripped forward- a loud yelp leaving your lips.

A pair of hands helped you up, “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved them away, looking up to see a strange young man staring down at you, his efforts of stifling his laugh failing. A certain boyish charm to him, although the crucifix earring and leather jacket made him look almost as tough as Clara.

“Can you stand?” He asked sincerely, an earnest smile. In the poor lighting, the stranger looked almost like Steve, only with darker, longer hair.

You giggled, tingly fingers trailing down his cheek with no grace, “Ya kno’ you rem- remine… re-mind me of my boyfriend Shteve!”

The guy’s smile slipped away, “Is he here with you?”

You pouted, shaking your head way too fast, “You are shweet. No. He was bein’ an ash! He-he, asshhh. Wait…” you cleared your throat. “Ass!”

Tears started welling up in your face as your pout grew deeper, “We had a faa- fight. A big one.”

The stranger’s eyes grew wide as he didn’t know how to handle your mood-swing and sudden outburst, “Uhh, that sucks. You got friends with you or…?”

You nodded, again too fast, your balance gone to hell as your vision began to spin, “Clara and Rob-” you hickuped. “Robin.”

“Okay,” his eyes lit up with relief. “Stay here, I’ll go look for them, sit on this chair.” He helped you onto the barstool and disappeared into the crowd. His metal-head boots like some new-age cowboy with steel tips for spurs.

A few minutes later, after trying your best to seem sober, Clara and Robin walked towards you, the cute boy from before pointing at you before throwing up a peace sign and melting into the crowd once again.

"Come on, you're worse than Robin right now," Clara chuckled a teasing wink thrown Robin's way.

Robin swayed a little, although she was much better with her footing than you, her dusted cheeks and nose indicating she was more tipsy than sober. Clara had always been good at holding her liquor, but the flush on her chest was gave away the fact that none of you were a hundred percent sober.

"You think you're such a badass missy," Robin's words were less slurred than yours no less butchered though. "With your leather jacket and cool highlights and… stuff. I had a train of thought, it's gone."

Clara giggled, "You’re cute when you're flustered."

Robin blushed harder and you groaned, "Get a room you two!"

"Let's get some food in you," Clara slung her arm around your shoulder, Robin took your other side. Together they helped you out of the buzzing dancefloor and towards the cold night air, stumbling like a three-legged race team towards a fast food place nearby.

***

"I'm jussht so tired of him being secretive," you whined into your French fries.

Clara rolled her eyes, "Oh boy, I'm not good with boy drama. Babysit while I order seconds?" She looked at Robin pleadingly.

Robin hummed a yes, nails tapping at her teeth in a drumming sort of way.

"I just want us to have a future away from Hawkinsh!" You grumbled loudly, ignorant to the fact Clara has all but sprinted away from your dramatic recount of your romantic woes. Several strangers glared at you with confusion and humour, the sound of chewing and slurping and laughter drowning you out so you weren’t nearly as loud as you could’ve been. 

Robin kept her head low, slurping on her cherry coke greedily.

"Am I not enough anymore?" You sunk down onto the table, flicking French fries about.

Robins's eyes grew wide, "No, no, no! That buffoon is crazy about you! He's just scared to tell you the truth." Robin snorted, "He's afraid you'd think he's crazy!"

"You know?" Your head shot up.

Robin chocked on her drink, fizz running out of her nose as she beat her chest to cough, "Oops, I wasn't supposed to..."

"Shpit it out," you threatened her with a French fry.

Robin chomped down on the fry and leaned closer, "Oh, hell, he's too much of a wimp to say anything and I for one will not stand by his incessant stubbornness!" Robin crooked her finger, urging you to lean closer like you were about to talk of some great conspiracy. "It started with Russian's and a giant hell hole under Starcourt Mall..."

***

Steve was awoken by the sound of the telephone ringing. Dustin and Lucas were passed out on the other sofa, the proverbial babysitters Robin had called to look after him. They had provided ample distraction by having a VHS marathon coupled with some Monopoly and way too much sugar. Mike was out of town visiting Eleven and Will. Max's life was a little bit chaotic ever since what happened to Billy, there was talk of her parents planning to move. Lucas had spent most of the evening talking about his worries on that issue. Poor Dustin had to deal with two lost boys and their romance troubles.

When no one budged after the first few rings, Steve kicked the blanket that was too small for his entire length and shuffled to the phone, sliding on the polished floors with his less than clean socks.

"Y'ello," Steve said with less gusto than should be accompanied with such a greeting.

"Steeeeve!" His girlfriend dragged out the E's in his name, a drunken pitch detected in how she slurred her S's.

"Y/N? Are- are you drunk? Where are you calling me from right now?" Steve glanced at the clock and realised it was ten past midnight. "Jesus, are you guys still out?"

She ignored his questioning and simply giggled like she did when she blushed, "I know your secret!"

Steve froze, panic spreading through his veins. "I- I don't know what you-"

"Shhhh! Don't try and play dumb Mr Perfect Hair! Robin-" she hiccupped. "Robin told me everything!"

"How much is everything?" Steve gulped.

"I know about the Russian's and the Mind Barbeque'r and the secret superpower kids club..."

"Shhhh! Okay, so you do know--"

"Did you really think I wouldn't believe you?"

"I… Yes."

"Well, you're right. The only reason I'm not freaking out right now is because I can barely count to 20 without running out of fingers! Or losing count!"

Steve smiled at her adorable tipsy behaviour, but a part of him couldn't help but feel a little uneasy about her and Clara and Robin out on the town so late.

"St-Steve?" She asked with a hint of insecurity.

"Yeah, babe?"

"Will you promise me something?"

"Sure..."

"If I don't remember this completely absurd story that Robin just told me tomorrow," she sniffled. "Promise me you'll remind me. And if I believe you without having… one, two, four, six? Eight drinks in my system, then promise we'll talk about what comes next."

"What comes next?" Steve felt something spread throughout his stomach –it wasn’t butterflies, but it wasn’t dread either.

"I…" the line went silent briefly, another sniffle coming through. “I don't know. But I know I don't want to break up. But I'm also not ready for Hawkins to be my door stopper, Steve."

Steve leaned his head against the wall, a deep sigh leaving his lips as he kept his gaze fixed on the bulb flickering above. A twitch in his fingers caused them to instantly ball up into a fist at the blinking light. His heart sank, focusing on how much, and how little, was being said during the phone call.

Steve whispered, "I know Y/N. I know."

She didn't say anything back. Steve pictured her holding onto the payphone with both hands, hoping he'd say something, anything. When he didn't, she let out a soft whimper. The simple sound diluted by the murmurs and laughs in the background and yet still powerful enough to cause him to bang the back of his head into the wall in frustration after she hung up.

Few moments in one’s life demanded an immediate choice and this was one of them. He could wait for tomorrow, see what he would do if she forgot, or wait and see what he'd do if she remembered.

Steve's eyes trailed to the notepad where Robin had written the name of the club they had gone to. Now was his time to decide.

Out of nowhere, a pair of keys flew into his cheek. Steve flinched from the contact, looking up to see Dustin leaning against a doorframe, a chocolate bar in hand.

"What the hell dude?" Steve demanded just loud enough to stir Lucas from his snoring. "You could have taken out my eye."

"So what's the great monster hunter Steve Harrington going to do now?" Dustin asked with an arched eyebrow.

Steve blew out a sigh, his hand ruffling his dishevelled hair, "I don't know."

"You want my advice?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"The hero always goes after what he wants. You just gotta chose whether you're the hero this time."

"When did you get so wise?" Steve said using amusement to mask his slight crisis of conscience.

Dustin took a bite of his bar, "It's not that hard. I just have to look smarter than you."

Steve rolled his eyes and Dustin chuckled before going back into the sofa.

Steve tapped his foot, eyes falling to the set of car keys Dustin had lobbed at him. They were the ones with the glass token Y/N had given him for Christmas. It was hard to believe everything that had happened was all centred around a roll of candy. The ticking of the wall clock made him nervous with each breath.

***

 After Robin had finished telling Y/N everything she knew -or at least remembered- she sat back, a smug look on her face.

The poor girl sitting opposite her looked like she was trying to swallow marbles. Her mouth agape as she tried to assimilate all the crazy Robin had just filled her in on. "So… all those times Steve would say something weird, he really wasn't talking about DnD? I knew a guy like him didn't play DnD! I asked him what class his character was and he said 'Batter'! That's not a thing!" Y/N mumbled loudly.

Robin panicked, "Oh, shit! Don't tell Clara!"

Y/N's eyes went wide, "Me you tell, but for some reason, the girl arm wrestling with a man double her size over there is off-limits?" she pointed to Clara who was indeed arm-wrestling a guy twice her size.

"I'm not afraid she won’t believe me, I'm afraid she will and then she'll demand to see the girl who can make things float with her mind. How would I explain that to Steve? Or any of them? Those guys are super-" Robin wiggled her fingers like jazz hands. "Up-tight about their secrets. Especially Joyce. They're worse than the Russian's…and I cracked a Russian secret code once!" she whispered, her head hunkering low so her chin nearly touched the table.

"Yes!" Clara shouted in triumph a few tables away, hands raised high. Her opponent simply flashed her an impressed smile, shaking her hand in defeat. As she sauntered over to their table, Robin kicked Y/N's shin.

"Look normal, she's coming."

Clara did a ridiculous dance-walk, her index fingers pointing at both Robin and Y/N, "Who is the strongest woman in the world?" she sing-songed.

"Definitely you," Y/N humoured her. "And not a teenage girl..." she whispered afterwards, eyes still buggy.

Robin choked on her cherry coke when she heard that, slamming the table after Clara rose her brows. "This is some damn good cherry coke!" She tried to cover up.

Clara simply shrugged and slid in next to Robin, their hands instinctively finding each other, pinky fingers locking as though they had just sworn a picky promise telepathically.

"Ugh!" Y/N groaned, rolling her eyes so far back her head Robin wondered if they'd stay permanently white. "You guys are so disgustingly adorable."

Clara tried to act like a smart ass, a casual look on her face, "I have no idea what you mean. We're just three friends enjoying a post alcohol poisoning meal."

Y/N pointed her index and middle finger so it looked like a V. "I used to call someone my friend when we went out together too, then I called him my boyfriend by accident during my film-making trivia babble-rants and it stuck." Another whine let her throat just as her forehead fell lifelessly onto the table with a painful thud. "Ow! And now we're… complicated!" She declared dramatically with a fake half sob, causing patrons nearby to do a double-take.

One of the waitresses carrying empty plates glanced over at their table, frowning when she noticed Robin and Clara semi holding hands in the space between their thighs. Her intuition catching on quick that it wasn’t just a meaningless gesture of friendship. Clara glared at her defiantly, but Robin recoiled, pulling her hand free. For some reason, that judgemental look had made her feel like someone guilty of committing a crime -of being a freak- and her mouth went dry.

Feeling a sudden wave of emotions hit her, Robin excused herself from their table and trotted to the restrooms so she could be alone, away from any potentially prying eyes and the feeling of being naked in front of an entire classroom.

Gasping for air, her hands trembled against the enamelled steel sink of the girls restroom. The door burst open and Clara leaned next to her, hands cupping the side of Robin's face hidden behind cascading hair.

"Hey, what the hell was that? Are you okay?"

Despite her poor choice of wording, Robin knew Clara was simply worried for her. In some ways, she reminded her of a prickly pear; tough and thorny on the outside but soft and sweet on the inside.

"It's nothing, just leave me alone for a minute, okay?"

"Oh bullshit it's nothing. It was that snooty nosed waitress wasn't it. Don't pay her any attention."

"That's easy for you to say..." Robin bit back.

Clara scoffed, "Oh, right! Because I don't look away or keep my head down when people are assholes, that instantly translates to me not giving a shit or feeling like shit sometimes?"

Robin stared at her in surprise, "But you never say anything."

Clara's eyes narrowed as she wrung her neck, "You think it doesn't bother me that we can't just hold hands in public like any Tom, Dick or Harry and the Marry Sue's on their arms? Because it does. It bothers me a lot!"

The lights flickered before Robin stammered, "B-but… you just… you're always so tough."

Clara snorted, her hand slamming against the door when another person was about to enter, blocking the door. "Occupied!" The lady scoffed and muttered a complaint before her heels traipsed away. Clara continued as though nothing had happened, "News flash Robin!" she flicked a strand of Robin's hair. "So are you!"

"What?"

"Jesus! You're one of the funniest and smartest people I know and you're never scared to let the whole room know!" Clara closed the distance between them, her fingers lacing with Robin's. "And you love who you are. You don't try to fight it or pretend to be different and that's… fucking brave. One of the bravest things anyone can do is be comfortable in their own skin. I'm tough sure, but that's a shell in its own way. You? You're your own person, nerdy brain and all."

"I… I didn't think of it that way..." Robin's lips quavered, a deep flush adding colour to her cheeks.

Clara leaned in, bringing her hand to cup Robin's face again so they shared the same eyeliner, a soft smile of admiration easing her usually tough features into a warm show of brightness.

"Robin, you are phenomenal," she blinked slow, taking another step closer. "And I want to get to know you… more, beyond friendship."

Sparks electrified the air, making it supercharged with static, tingles travelling from Robin's arms to her fingertips and into Clara. Their contact a sacred exchange of longing and desire, a feeling so primal, so old, and so right! It chased away all of Robin's fears and doubts, wiping that feeling of shame from the slate, freeing her chest making her feel like she was breathing for the first time in a long time.

Robin smiled, wholeheartedly and Clara mimicked her response, sweet giggles bubbling between them. Their grip on each other’s hands tightening, promising to keep the other anchored. It was a silent promise to be true to themselves and only themselves. A defiant fist in the air to society’s expectations of them and the first brick of a foundation intended to strengthen the bond of trust between two deviants -between two humans whose love-struck hearts beat with the ferocity of all the great loves worth swooning over. 

Feeling an undeniable pull, Robin decided to be daring and bold for once. Not brave in the form of fighting Russian's in an underground lab beneath a mall, and not brave in the sense that she could see the impossible and fling a firework at it like it was any regular old Sunday, but a braveness that meant taking a chance, opening up her heart to the prospect of heartbreak as well as the prospect of pure joy.

Her lips were so close to Clara’s she could feel her breath against her sensitive pink skin, and just when she was about to take that last step off the cliff and fully commit to her leap of faith, Clara pulled back, a furrow forming between the space of her beautiful eyes.

Robin felt heat travel up her face, her heart racing -but this time not from their electric connection. "I- I'm sorry, I thought we were having a moment!" She rushed to explain.

Clara held her face to muffle an exasperated exhale, "No, you weren't wrong. There was definitely a moment."

Robin blinked several times, "Then what's the matter."

Clara laughed, "Because dummy, I'm not going to let our first kiss be in the girls restroom of a shitty fast food joint filled with pretentious waitresses." She entangled their fingers back together again. "If I'm going to kiss you, it's going to be in daylight."

Robin beamed, "You know, you may have a foul mouth, but sometimes, you say the most perfect things."

Clara winked, "I'm unpredictable that way." She chuckled, bobbing her head towards the door. "Come on, I think I'm sober enough to drive. Let's go reunite our two clowns so they stop being walking black holes, sucking all the happiness out of the room with their moping."

 ***

You had spent more than ten minutes playing with the salt you'd emptied from the small salt packet, ring finger drawing weird outlines of doodles.

Clara and Robin burst out of the girls' bathroom with the goofiest smiles you'd ever seen -well maybe not as goofy as Dustin's when he beat Steve on the Atari.

And now you were thinking about Steve again.

Damn it! You cursed.

You glanced back at the two girls shamelessly enjoying each other’s closeness. They were different somehow, and not just because their shoulders kept brushing against each other and they didn't once try and pull away or hide a smile behind a curtain of hair, they were more confident. And then it hit you, they were starting to fall for each other, their thoughts reserved for each other and not the gawking world around them.

After paying the check, Robin helped you walk considering you were the only one stumbling now. After passing a few streets, without warning, Clara stopped dead in her tracks, making your nose bury itself under her shoulder blade.

"Oof!" You rubbed the nib of your nose with a disapproving pout. "Warn someone before you decide to pull the hand brakes, Clara!"

Clara's hand waved in the air as if she were trying to hail a cab, only it was waving at Robin.

"Are you seeing this?" She asked.

"Oh my..." Robin froze for a moment, repeating Clara's hand gesture at you. "Tell me you have a candle."

You looked at Robin as if she were an alien from outer space, "Why would I have a candle?"

"Because I think you're about to have a Sixteen Candles moment."

Clara turned her head, "A what moment?"

Robin goggled at her, "You've never seen Sixteen Candles?"

You hopped on your tippy-toes to see beyond their shoulders, curious as to what grabbed their attention. "Can… you… guys… move? I… can't… see!"

They ignored your jumping and nudging, Clara opening her palms up to the air with a shrug that made her leather jacket groan. "I'm more of a Saint Elmo's Fire girl," she said.

Robin's jaw dropped even further, "Marry me."

For the first time in years, Clara blushed, deeply. "Alright, but I'm keeping my last name. Clara Buckley sounds like a suburban housewife's name and suburban bliss is my greatest fear!"

You sighed, rolling your eyes and squeezed between them, "What are you guys--"

Cars zoomed across the road, casting red racing ghosts from the lights of their tail-ends, the entire street looking like a sped-up music video. Past the foot and car traffic was a parked car, familiar, and banged up to hell. Leaning against the car’s door was Steve. His arms folded and his legs crossed at the ankle. He was looking to the side, a forlorn expression making his face transform into  a live rendition of a melancholic photograph. Your heart fluttered and then stopped and then fluttered again like it had just undergone a spell of rejuvenation. Your swirling vision reminding you of the large quantities of alcohol swimming with your rushing blood.

You turned to Clara and Robin, a searching gaze telling them you needed confirmation that you weren't hallucinating or past out in the dinner, they both nodded at you, a happy twinkle making their eyes shine with starlight. You felt the air leave your lungs.

A second after, your feet picked up in an unbalanced run, your body bumping into pedestrians and strangers. Steve saw a crowd begin to part and looked your way, the sadness draining from his face as he jogged to catch up with you.

Your bodies crashed together like two colliding meteors, Steve wrapped his strong arms around you, picking you up off the ground and letting out a relieved huff on your neck as he spun you around, slowly. Strangers ignoring the two of you were dreaded donation collectors. You tittered, feeling a bolt of lightning full of verve and newfound energy strike you. In the spin, colours seemed brighter, the air felt clearer and your mind was finally at peace.

"What are you doing here, Harrington?" you asked when he set you down.

Steve's thumb caressed your cheek, "I'm here to make sure you don't forget."

"Forget what?"

"That I love you," he captured your lips in a kiss filled with passion and tenderness. He fished something small out of his pocket and dropped it in your hands. It was his car keys, they still had that charm you had given him for Christmas.

"You called," was all he said as he wrapped you in a warm hug for a second time.

Your fingers brushed over the glasswork love-heart charm, the words: ‘Call Me’ slightly shaved down from wear and tear.

You sniffled as happy tears fell down your face, "I called."

 Clara and Robin had decided to drive back to Hawkins in her car while you and Steve drove back together. Your elbow was resting on the space where the window was supposed to be, fingers drawing waves through the wind, eyes looking out at the cityscape panorama rushing past, the song Love is a Battlefield playing over the radio as you slowly drifted to sleep, Steve's heavenly scent almost therapeutic.

Time past in chunks of long stretches and sudden gaps, your eyes fluttering open from time to time as you stirred and mumbled unintelligible words. At some point in the night, you felt your body lift as arms braced your spine and thighs, the thrumming of a strong heart knocking against your ear, soothing you into a tranquil lull. A kiss placed on your forehead, the brush of a blanket pulled over your shivering body, fingers smoothing the lines of your jaw and tracing the curves and dips of your throat.

"You are my forever, you know that?"

You moved further into the bright spot of warmth radiating beside you, your ear finding that glorious thrum again. Euphoria seeping from the base of your skull to your toes.

"If you forget, I'll remind you tomorrow. And the day after that. Forever."

 That morning, you had woken up in Steve's room, his body draped over yours possessively, a puppy dog pout taking over his sleeping face. His hair was messy as usual. You ran your hands through his long waves, breathing in the smell of his conditioner that still clung to his follicles.

"Morning," he murmured into the pillow.

"Good morning." He peeked at you through one eye, "So? Do you remember?"

You inched your face closer to his, "I do."

***

 Clara sat cross-legged on her window sill in her favourite pyjamas, a cup of hot cocoa in her hands. "Hey," Clara spoke with her lips skirting against her mug's rim, steam wiping around her eyes to form a foggy curtain.

"Hey," Robin replied, her mug equally close to her own lips. She folded her frame onto the windowsill, her knee brushing against Clara’s as she placed a sauce plate with a cupcake and a birthday candle between the diamond-space formed by their folded legs. “I got it wrong before.”

Clara cocked her head to the side.

“We’re the ones about to have a Sixteen Candles moment.”

Clara set her mug down, a smirk turning upwards, “Its daylight."

Robin looked up at her through hooded eyes, "So it is..."

“And I’m yours.”

Robin arched a playful brow, “A regular ol’ Robin’s girl, huh?”

 The End.

   Also: if you liked the playlist check out @multifandom-mixtapes blog and send her a request, she’s awesome (side note: now that the fic is concluded feel free to add more songs to the playlist Ari!)

Permatags: @gruffle1 @thechickvic @notawarriorjustyet @savethehoneeybees

Robins Girl & Meet Cute: @chims-kookies @electroma89 @thechickvic @mochminnie @timeladygallifrey

[diggersofgraves]

Hey everyone! So this is a fic for @lesbiansassemble femslash writing challenge. It’s actually pretty late, I’m a terrible person. I don’t write fics because I honestly don’t have the patience for them and I’m kind of insecure in my writing, I feel like it’s always so rushed (which might link back to the whole impatience thing, hmmm), but I decided to give it a try bc I’ve always wanted to and I adore this ship. It’s 1000+ words, so click the keep reading link if y’all wanna give it a try! (Also I just got back from my trip to Mexico & I have to pick up my nephew from school, so I’m just uploading this real quick and leaving. Sorry for any mistakes!)

PROMPT: “I need to tell you something.” Shuri/MJ

There’s this girl I know and I want you to meet her, I think you’ll really like her, Peter had said one day as they walked to class.

At first, MJ was doubtful. She trusted Peter when it came to Decathlon questions and anything related to science, but he was also secretive about his personal life.

She had wanted to know where he met the girl, but he withheld all answers, as usual. It was a usual routine in their friendship. The only person who knew all of Peter’s ins and outs was probably Ned. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t sometimes jealous about that friendship.

So yeah, sue her for being very skeptical when her friend had told her to meet this girl in some park, holding a dumb green rose he had made for her on a Sunday evening. She didn’t know why she still agreed to Parker’s schemes. (Yes she did, she was lonely.)

That was how she met Shuri. Shuri, the most beautiful girl MJ had ever seen. One of the smartest (read: genius) and wittiest girl she’d ever met.

Shuri held a form of elegance that MJ had only ever seen in movies, but it wasn’t overwhelming. Her elegance was accompanied by a teasing nature and an overall casual atmosphere. MJ didn’t know how she did that, but Shuri was definitely the fantasy girl she had dreamed about in middle school.

The day at the park had been their first of many dates and when they made it official, MJ made sure everyone she knew (which, admittedly, wasn’t too many people), was made aware of her girlfriend. The thought alone made MJ smile throughout the long school days and club meetings.

There were two downsides though.

MJ wasn’t dumb. In fact, she liked to pride herself in the opposite. The first problem was, just like Peter, Shuri never talked about her personal life. It would be a fairly obvious guess to say that whatever Peter liked to keep private was what Shuri liked to keep private. In fact, she would bet her entire book collection in saying that they had probably met through all their secrecy.

And while Shuri had never told her, MJ knew her girlfriend was rich. Or was, at the very least, ‘well off’, as the adults liked to call it. She had no idea how that tied in to Peter’s life because he definitely wasn’t even close to ‘well off’, but that was a question for another day.

The second problem was that Shuri travelled. A lot. Sometimes MJ wouldn’t see her girlfriend for weeks at a time because her family was off in some other country doing some important business.

That didn’t really bother MJ as much as the first problem though. She hated being left out. She was left out of things for such a long time in her life, feeling the same bite of rejection from her girlfriend seemed to be 10x worse.

It might have put a small strain in her relationship. At least on her behalf. She doubted that Shuri had noticed.

“I’m going to the UK with my brother next week.” Shuri commented on their regular stroll through the park.

Every other day after school, Shuri would wait for MJ at the park they first met. They would stroll around for a while. Sometimes other plans arose, like the arcade or a movie. Other times they’d go back to MJ’s house. It varied from day to day.

“What for?” MJ asked- as if she didn’t know what the answer would be. ‘Family stuff.’ Shuri would say. Or ‘Personal Business’. And then they would drop it.

“Family stuff.” Shuri expectedly replied.

MJ hummed and nodded, allowing a silence to fall between them. She could feel Shuri looking at her from besides her, feel as her hand fidgeted in her own grasp and then she heard a sigh.

Shuri stopped walking besides MJ.

MJ looked back at her girlfriend, who looked conflicted. And kind of lost, something MJ had never seen on her girlfriend before. As she’d said before, Shuri was a genius, she seemed to hold the answer to everything.

It took a few seconds before Shuri began talking again. “How long have we been dating?”

It was a dumb question. Not in a ‘How do you not know how long we’ve been together?’ way, but because MJ knew for a fact that Shuri had a planner where she marked their anniversary and planned the most outrageous outings (Shuri had wanted to take her to Rome two months ago. MJ had to draw a line somewhere.)

Still, MJ decided to humor her, “About eleven months. Our one year is in two weeks. Why?”

Shuri nodded, “Okay. You know, I’ve never had a girlfriend before? Or dated anyone, really. You’re my first anything, so I’m not really sure when the time to do this is right.”

“Wow, wait.” MJ put in immediately. “You’re not gonna pull a proposal right? Because I can tell you right here and right now that those usually don’t happen until we’re both legally adults. And have been seeing one another for a few years.”

Not that she didn’t want to marry Shuri. She did, but at a later time. Not the time to think about that. She was still in high school.

Shuri laughed, “No! No, none of that. I’m not that unexperienced. I just…” She hesitated before continuing, “I need to tell you something.”

MJ almost expected a break-up. Almost. But that wouldn’t make any sense. Things were going great, apart from that one-sided strain on her side, but she didn’t even think that other girl had noticed.

“I know you’ve been getting kind of annoyed whenever I don’t tell you things. I want to, I really want to tell you, but I never know when the time is right.”

Okay, so maybe she had noticed.

MJ squeezed Shuri’s hand and smiled at her, “Yeah, I get kind of annoyed, but if you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to tell me. Just as long as you’re not doing anything that’ll put yourself in danger.”

As much as she wanted the ins on her girlfriends personal life, she didn’t want it forced out of her because she thought that MJ was annoyed. Which was true, but still.

“No, I want to tell you. I just don’t know where to start.” Shuri paused. “What do you know about Wakanda?”

MJ startled. Wakanda? “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Just answer.” Shuri pushed on.

MJ knew about Wakanda, yes, it was all over the news about a year and a half ago.

“It seems… cool? I know it was on the news more than a year ago. Everyone thought they were some dirt poor village or whatever, but turns out they’re really advanced. Like, Tony Stark doesn’t stand a chance.”

Shuri laughed once more, “Yeah, he stands no chance. Anything else?”

“Hm. They’re still pretty secretive. The king- T’Challa comes out on the news all the time. And I know there’s the old Queen, his mother, and a princess, but no one knows anything about them. What does this have to do with anything?”

“If I weren’t so good at hiding things, I’d call you oblivious.” Shuri joked, “But what if I told you-”

She paused, as if thinking over what to say.

MJ’s heart beat a bit faster than normal. She wasn’t dumb. There were clues now, things she could connect to one another, but she didn’t want to. She wanted Shuri to tell her.

The other girl continued, “What if I said I know the princess?”

MJ stopped in her thoughts. Huh, okay, maybe her mind went too far in her assumption, but close enough?

“I would tell you to not leave me for a princess.” MJ responded, partially joking, partially serious.

“And… what if I told you I was the princess?”

Okay, so maybe MJ’s mind wasn’t that crazy, but thinking it and hearing it from her girlfriends mouth were two totally different things. MJ honestly didn’t know what to think.

“I think… I think I need to sit down.” Was her reply. She didn’t bother looking for the nearest bench. She sat exactly where they stood. In the middle of the path in the park. What to think? What was there to think?

MJ read a lot. From fantasy books to non-fiction to romance. She tried to think back to any book she might have read titled, What to Do When Your Girlfriend of a Year Tells You She’s a Princess & Other Stories. Strangely enough, she couldn’t think of any. Guess it didn’t happen too often.

She hadn’t realized that Shuri had knelt besides her, rambling on, trying to explain herself until MJ looked up at her.

“- and I would have told you months ago, but my mother said I need to be wary of the relations I bring into the nation as well because of the whole princess thing, which I have to admit, I kind of agree on, but it was never a personal thin-”

“Hey.” MJ cut her off. Shuri stopped and stared nervously back at her girlfriend. “I have no idea what to say. I have no clue how to react. But this doesn’t change anything. We can figure anything out as we go.”

Shuri smiled and stood  up, offering her hand to MJ who was still sitting on the floor, criss-cross apple-sauce and all. MJ accepted her hand and smiled back at her girlfriend.

The butterflies she felt whenever she was around Shuri months ago were long gone. Recently, a new feeling took place. It was still a kind of warmth, but not the same. It felt safe. Familiar. With her, she knew they could figure out anything as they went.

“I have to tell you something else.” Shuri said.

“Am I going to have to sit on the floor again?”

“Probably not.” Shuri smiled.

“Okay then, shoot.”

The princess’ smiled widened as she squeezed MJ’s hand. “I love you.”

MJ did have to sit on the floor again. Longer than before because the warmth that exploded within her and on her face couldn’t have been healthy.

However, after a few moments of having her head shoved into her hands, MJ stood up and kissed her girlfriend, but not before muttering, “I love you too.”

When they parted, a thought occurred to MJ, “Wait, how the fuck does Parker know the princess of Wakanda?”

Shuri smiled and pulled her to continue their walk. “Ask him.” Was all she said.

She would ask him, MJ decided, but another day. Nothing else mattered much when she was with her girlfriend.

[everything-isfiction]

I kept this in my folder for a while and totally forget about it. This one is for @catsoul2 because I saw her reading most of my writing and really love all the jealous Touka/Kaneki fanfic. I’m sorry for the grammatical errors, I tried my best 😅💪 I hope you like this.

Characters/Pairing: Kaneki Ken, Touka Kirishima, Touken.

Words: 1000++

:::

Something had been bothering him, a feelings that he isn’t sure the reason behind it. His eyebrow creased, almost joining to each other, feeling slightly annoyed when he couldn’t find the answer that he wanted.

He saw a gentle side of her whenever she sit with the children –the Aogiri kids, the garden kids even with Hinami. Touka act differently, a softer interaction when she’s around them –or more precisely, when they surround her. Maybe that’s where his annoyance came from.

They were sitting next to each other at the moment, when the kids spotted them and calling “Touka-oneechan” and “King” from the ground, with one of them holding a story book. Kaneki wave at them from above, before Touka slowly withdraw her hands that had been underneath his own palm.

“I think it’s story time.”

His mouth turning into a pout without him realizing it, looking away as Touka ready to leave. He can still feel the warmth of her hands against his skin, sighing. He stayed for a while with them, watching and listening to Touka voice soothingly reading –and he found some peace just by being around them –until Fuka called out for the king, to have a discussion with Yomo and the rest.

Although he seems busy with his king duties, his eyes always searching for her presence. Whenever he passed by an empty room or a space fulls of junks where he heard giggles and laughter, Kaneki would stop to peek in –and find the kids playing around while Touka sitting silently watching over them. Touka often noticed him, but pretended that she didn’t, knowing that any little interaction with her will always drawn his feet towards her. It comes to his mind that they barely spend their times together –alone –anymore.

“King!”

He look over his shoulder, finding the three children walking towards him, smiling happily whenever they saw him –as if he was a figure that they looked up to.

“Do you know where Touka-oneechan is ? We’ve been looking everywhere for her.”

Touka-chan again ?

“Why don’t we look for her together ?”

Kaneki ruffles Yuki’s hair, before taking their hands, walking together towards the open space. Touka can hear them before she sees them, and only turn around when she feels a different voice talking over the kids giggles. She was sitting with Hinami, discussing something rather personal for anyone to hear.

The children started running towards them, hugging Touka and Hinami –commenting that she smells like coffee, a scent that he’s familiar with.

“Touka-oneechan, read us a book.”

“Again ?” Touka sighs, with a gentle smile still lingers on her face, “We already read all the books that we have.”

“We found a new one. It’s about a duckling.” They showed the thick hard-cover book, with a big picture of a group of yellow ducks with one being different from rest with a grey coloured feathers. They seems excited to learn about the stories, and Kaneki volunteer to read to them.

“You’re not allowed to read, king.”

“Why not ? I’m really good at it.”

“Touka-oneechan said you won’t stop when you start reading. We don’t want you to turn into a monster.”

He blinks, confused. He heard Touka snorting and Hinami giggling next to her. He frowns–Touka must’ve feeding these kids with fake stories to make sure they didn’t disturb him. Touka scoffs, “Your eyebag is getting worse, you know.” His hands quickly runs over his eyes, completely loss of words to argue –he force himself to smile, trying to find that small comfort in the circle, “I–I’m fine. It will only take a while, I’ll rest when it’s done.”

Touka stared at him, before shrugs her shoulder and passing the books. The children seems to be very excited to hear the stories. Kaneki take his seat next to her as Touka leaning her head slightly on his shoulder. He couldn’t fight off a big grin on his face, staring at the kids as if he had won something over them –they obviously have no ideas the meaning behind his smile.

“Once upon a time–” –and attentively listening to the stories.

:::

He slowly pulls her body closer towards him, brushing her hair back, exposing the creamy colored of her skin before leaning down and kisses that one particular spot on the side of her neck. Touka trembled as she pressed her face into his shoulder. His mouth sucking slowly on her skin and loving the soft whining that drumming into his ears.

Kaneki is never vocal about the intimate gestures, only using his action to send his messages. He loves marking her, but only leave a faintly red spots that could disappear within a day, after almost getting in trouble when he did leave a visible marks before. He knows her body very well, knows which button to push, knows which spots to loved and his grip tighten around her waist.

He gently kiss her cheeks, pushing her hair behind her ears and smiling down at her, “I feel like I didn’t get to see you much.”

His words only makes her flustered, turning her into a blushing mess. She was incredibly adorable –sometimes he couldn’t help himself. Kaneki was about to lean down to claim her lips when they hear voices calling out for Touka. He groans –annoyed and somehow guilty for having those feelings lingers around at the innocent children. Touka was quick to separate their bodies apart, before the children hesitantly pushed the cloth that works as a divider on the empty door.

“What’s wrong ?” she asked. The children looked worried, and reluctant to says anything when they saw the king is in the same room.

“A–are you in trouble, oneechan ?”

Touka followed their eyes, locking on the man standing behind her. She croutched down, holding their small hands, “No. The king just want to see me. Did something happened ?”

“ Well –” the girl grip her shirt, hesitated, “Hinami-oneechan and Miza-oneechan said we all should sleep together –like friends do when they’re at each others house. W–we thought we would like to invite you.”

Touka rarely participate much with this sort of things, Hinami doesn’t want to bother her, especially now that she’s not –entirely –alone. Touka considering their request, glancing at Kaneki briefly before agreeing with their request, “Okay.”

“Really ? Yay !”

Kaneki seems surprised with her decision, staring at her as if his eyes was pleading with ‘what about me, Touka-chan ?’

Touka gives her reassurance that she will be there and send them off. When she turn around facing him, Kaneki looks like a kid with his toys got taken away, “Touka-chan–” his voice seems down, earning a soft chuckled from her.

Touka pat his back, before leaving a soft kiss just underneath his jaw, “It’s only for tonight. I’ll sleep with you tomorrow”

It makes him flustered, “N–no, that’s not what I mean.” –but seeing her smiling with that soft gaze only meant to be for him, Kaneki says nothing more and nodded.

:::

Kaneki rubs his face, staring at the ceiling as the surrounding getting colder. He’s behaving like a kid now –he almost didn’t let Touka go earlier, just because the children get to spend more time with her than him. He turn to his side, hugging himself and missing the warmth that always there to accompany him sleep.

The next day, he leave earlier to hunt for the food and supply–and coming back just in time before the sun set. They managed to gather more food that would last for the whole months, thus taking a break for a few weeks before starting over with their new plan. Kaneki was agitated and somehow excited –as he make his way to her cot, only to find her sleeping peacefully on her bed.

She must’ve been waiting for him until she fell asleep. He sit beside her, brushing her hair as his hands trails down on her lips. Sighing, he smiles to himself –he had been trying to kiss her since yesterday. He leaned down to steal a kiss on her lips, before her eyes slowly open just few inches away from her lips, startling him as he let out a silent shriek.

“You’re back ?”

Kaneki cover his mouth, quickly nodding his head, unable to make out any words when he’s almost caught red-handed. Touka sits up, smiling at him, “Welcome back.”

He sighs, knocking his forehead gently against her, “I had enough.”

“Huh ?”

He pouts, hiding his face on her shoulder and mumbling, “The children can’t seems to leave you alone.”

“They just looking for someone to play with them.”

“They should find someone else to play with –they always end up finding you all the time.”

Touka snorts, when she finally get the ideas behind his pout, “Are you jealous of them ?” –chuckled, “They’re just children. Why do you want to compete with them ?”

He feels like his pride being trampled when he saw her laughing.

“I thought the king isn’t some pouty little brat.” Touka playfully poke his cheek, still giggling when he suddenly pushed her down on the bed, trapping her with both of his hands on the side of her head, silencing her immediately. That side of him always send shivers down on her spine –a darker side that she seems to love to provoke and let it appeared. Touka circled her arms around his neck–

“Punish me, king.”

[margri3t]

Ereri secret santa!

Hello everyone! It’s finally posting time for the Ereri secret santa and I am very excite. I’ve had this fic ready to go for over a month now XD. Basically @thes0ulreader is my secret santa!!! and bc I’m speedy my posting # is #1!

You can read it here on ao3 or keep reading down below!

A week before Christmas and I’ve got the fucking flu. This wouldn’t be a problem if it weren’t for the fact that every year our orchestra celebrates Christmas by holding a concert each day for a week. The turnout is always massive. If my flu doesn’t magically disappear by 2pm, the orchestra won’t have a first violinist. My boyfriend Eren on the other hand seems to have some sort of magical immunity to illness. He was spending the morning looking after me to his best abilities even though I told him time and time again that he should be spending the morning practising Double bass instead. Even if I did enjoy the pampering, there was a 99% chance that Eren would have to go to the concert without me.

“It’s such a shame you won’t be there to help me carry things…” Eren loved to tease me, using if often as a way to distract me from whatever was upsetting me. This meant he could tell I wasn’t happy being stuck at home and wanted reassurance that I was okay. Best way to do that was tease back…

“I wouldn’t have helped anyway, it’s your fault for choosing such a large instrument in the first place. People think you’re compensating for something.” I said with a sniff, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand.

“But you know I’m not!” I could tell from the singsong tone that he was relaxing. Thank god. I didn’t want him to stress over me when he should be focusing on music.

When Eren felt my forehead the previous good mood disappeared. Fuck.

“You’re boiling, I’ll get you a cold compress.”

“No you won’t, I’ll do it myself. Now enough with you, you’ve got two hours until you’ve got to leave. Go practise.” Illness be damned, if he didn’t go practise himself, I’d drag him there.

“If you insist. But please be careful, overworking yourself now will only slow your recovery.” With that Eren stood up and planted a kiss on my lips before leaving.

A few minutes later I heard the soft sounds of music resounding from downstairs. Honestly that man does too much for me, the amount of tenderness in his eyes before he left was painful. Thoughts of christmas started to fill my mind and I thought about the small box that was currently hidden deep underneath the christmas tree. Would he say yes? Was just the ring enough? I had played with the idea of arranging a piece for the proposal before, but never found the time to actually do it. Could it be that my illness was actually a blessing in disguise? I was well enough that I could still play, the only problem keeping me from going to concerts was a fever and coughing fits. Maybe I could use the free time to prepare something special for Eren? He really did deserve to know how much I loved him.

I decided for now it was best to get some rest and let Eren’s quiet playing lull me to sleep. Due to my insomnia I had difficulty doing this especially because Eren wasn’t but my side. Over the past two years we’d been dating I found that he helped me sleep better. But hearing him play helped to some extent.

~~~

I woke up a few hours later to find a note on the nightstand:

Levi,

It’s good to see you’re getting some rest, even if I can’t look after you right now I trust you’ll be okay. You already know this but I’ll be back by 9. Get well soon!

He really was too sweet, it made my heart ache.

With slight difficulty I got out of bed and headed to the music room to grab some blank music sheets. My first goal was to have a loose violin arrangement made for the end of the day. I decided that the piece I’d be playing was the waltz from swan lake. Eren loved waltzes. Every time he heard one he made me dance with him and because my dancing abilities were subpar, it always ended in a fit of laughter and possibly me on the floor.

When I sat down at the piano I started to get extremely cold, so I quickly rushed upstairs to get a blanket. Back downstairs and comfortable, I started writing. Listening to the music and playing a couple notes on the piano before writing what I wanted down. It seemed I’d have to get Eren’s mother in the mix. I needed a pianist and she played beautifully. So after a few more hours and eventually a loose draft of what I wanted, I called her…

“Hello Levi!” Carla sounded as cheery as ever.

“Hi Carla! How are you?” Eren’s mother loved talking so I might as well ask.

“I’m great thank you, but why are you calling me? Is this about your little proposal plan?” I had already asked for her blessing a few weeks ago, earning a bear hug and squealing. After which she bombarded me with questions.

“Well yes. I wasn’t planning to do this but now it seems I have time to, would you please help me by accompanying a piece? It’s short notice and I’m sorry but I know you’re talented enough.”

“Well of course Levi! I’ve got nothing better to do this week and I would just love to see my boy say yes! When and where do you need me?” Over excited as usual.

“Well if you could come by tomorrow at 2:30 we could take a look at it together?” Eren would be gone by then.

“Sounds perfect.”

~~~

Eren was correct, due to the fact I hadn’t been resting, my illness stretched across the whole week. I was upset that I missed the concerts, but glad I could get the extra practice time. So when Christmas came around I was hopeful I could make this a day Eren would never forget. The past five days had been stressful even without the humongous weight of 1000 eyes on you as you play ‘Mary do you know?’. Eren’s mother had the skill but was worried that she wouldn’t have it ready in time, of course eventually she had it perfected (by eventually I mean after a day) that women was a fucking monster when it came to music. No one in the community loomed quite as large…meaning that when she retired, everyone was upset. Her reasoning had been that she ‘wanted to find a way to associate piano with fun again instead of work’ which I could completely understand. Burnouts were far to common in the music community.

Even just playing the song through I could imagine Eren dancing, and it was as much of a distraction as it was beautiful. So I decided it was best to clear my head when I played, thinking of nothing else than how much I loved the man who showed me so much kindness.

~~~

8am, Christmas Day, and a quiet notification wakes me. Eren’s mother is at the front door. I sneak out of bed the best I can and slip on some clothes before heading downstairs. The bolts on the door are far too loud, contrasting harshly with the almost eerie silence of the rest of the house. Eren’s mother hugs me silently and I let her in, immediately she heads to the music room to set up. I grab the ring box from underneath the tree and slip it into my pocket. Afterwards I motion for Carla to come to the kitchen and make some coffee. Nerves are starting to get to me.

My hands are shaking and honestly it’s so terrifying, I’ve never felt this nervous before. But you can’t blame me, I’m about to ask the biggest question of my life to the most important man of my life. My mind started to wander about all the things that could give Eren a reason to say no. We’d fallen out before, just like every couple. But I didn’t think there was anything extreme…Maybe he never loved me in the first place, is our whole relationship just a lie? What if-

I felt Carla’s hand wrap around mine. Fuck. She could tell I was nervous. How was I going to live through this without fucking up? By the end of the day Eren would be gone. I’m sure of it. Even if it really hurts, why would he even bother staying if I can’t get his proposal right?

“Levi, Eren really loves you. I know you’re nervous but he’s not going to care how you propose. At the end of the day what matters is the fact that you want to marry him and he wants the same.” Carla read my mind.

“But what if he doesn’t?”

“If you can’t see how smitten he is with you you must be blind. I can even tell just from his voice! He calls me sometimes and every time it’s ‘Levi did this’ ‘Levi was so cute yesterday’ and so on. Look, don’t tell him I said this, but after just a month of knowing you he told me he thought you were the one.” I would never believe that. Ever.

“Lies and deceit.”

“Trust me it’s true!” Just as Carla said this I heard footsteps upstairs, Eren was awake. Now I was certain we only had 30 minutes till show time. Eren always took a shower in the mornings and normally it took around 30 minutes. I started to shake again.

Whilst Carla and I waited we made breakfast, that way we could have a ‘small celebration’ afterwards. But those were Carla’s words and not mine. We decided to just make omelette as later on in the day we’d be having a big Christmas dinner at Carla’s house. We were done round about 15 minutes later and placed a plate over the food so it wouldn’t cool down too much. Upstairs I heard Eren step out the shower. Fuck. He was being fast today. Carla gave me a look and dragged me to the music room to set up my violin. We started tuning and so on, making sure to listen closely for footsteps upstairs. I knew he could probably hear me, meaning he would be down fairly fast.

Lo and behold, 5 minutes later, there he was…

“Levi…what is this? Why is my mum here?” Damn, questions he’d get answers to soon but still made me question myself.

“I prepared a piece for you for Christmas. So shh and just listen.” My harsh attitude made Eren chuckle which in return caused my heart to flutter. Fuck. Breathing in steadily, I raised my bow and locked eyes with Carla for a moment before beginning to play.

I wasn’t normally one to get stage fright, so the feeling of drowning was definitely new, nevertheless I swam up. Only letting my playing falter for half a second before getting it under control. I had to put all my emotion into this. Let Eren feel how I feel through my music. Funnily enough, it was easy to compare my relationship with Eren to the music I was playing. We had managed to find calm within each other’s arms. All our stresses melting away. Of course there was bound to be problems, just like how the song itself was bound to become louder, but it would always return to a calm. I could see a grin spread across Eren’s face and his eyes flash in recognition. Perfect. Why was he so fucking perfect? Somehow Eren also looked pained, like he was itching to do something. When I saw his foot tap I realised what it was, he wanted to dance. It was hard to dance a waltz alone. Guess I’d have to beg Carla to play again later without me so we could dance.

Eventually I reached the end of the piece, finishing with a flourish of my bow.

Eren looked so happy.

Here goes nothing.

I placed down my violin silently and knelt down on one knee, slowly grabbing the ring box from my pocket.

“Eren you amazing, beautiful, crazy man,” My voice cracked. Fuck. “Will you marry me?” Eren was on the brink of tears, was he upset? Happy? Angry? Levi why can’t you even tell what your own boyfriend is thinking?

“In what universe would my answer ever be no?” Eren laughed and all I could do was get lost in his eyes. Amazing. I didn’t even register the fact Eren was helping me stand until I was firmly standing on two feet. Placing down the box, I grabbed Eren’s hand and slipped the ring onto his finger. It was a simple silver band with green crystals? Gems? I didn’t know. Honestly the only thought I had about the ring was that it matched his eyes amazingly.

“Finally! One step closer to grandchildren!” Of course Carla had to say that.

[zire-7]

A Totally Biased Review Of Superstition

Oops...I had planned on writing a review for this one a couple weeks after its release, like I did with HAS; though its not like I'm getting paid to write a review. Anyways, there was a drama shitstorm involving a good friend of mine, she is not a fan of TBM, and I've been too busy almost dying to write a review. Now I find myself desiring to once again extol the virtues of The Birthday Massacre. (To anyone who read my last review, [http://zire-7.tumblr.com/post/33486561723/a-totally-biased-review-of-hide-and-seek] yes I was just as emotionally destroy and gutted with Superstition as I was with HAS

)

I..LOVE. IT. Even after 3 years of listening, I still find myself listening to Superstition. Its definitely got hooks, both lyrical and instrumental, as well as a new magical fairy tail esque world that is brought to life. Or, perhaps its a deserted island in the same world that N&N, Violet, WWS, PAN, and HAS, belong too.  

Without further ado, the songs....

Divide

The opening is deceptive of the song's imagery, the song is haunting and uplifting at the same time. Like finding yourself stranded on an island but with a loaded flare gun. Except there's one flare and no one around to see it. Chibi's voice is enchanting, when isn't it, but this time its like the call of a Siren.

On the bridge (I think its the bridge? I don't know.) there is growling as we've heard in Blue and Down. And I do believe either Rainbow or Falcore are singing backing vocals, it could be Nate, it brings a little something extra to the song. The synths, drums, guitar, and bass are softer throughout the verses, building to a crescendo for the chorus before getting softer again.  Of course there's the wicked awesome guitar solo and instrumental interlude.  Two words, Bass drop.

Favorite lyrics: In the night, we dance with our devils and dine with the snakes. The dead will stare in joy and despair – rising up, away from the earth, and into the clouds.

Rating: 1000. It is an excellent opening song that sets the stage for an even more excellent album.

Diaries

The synths are strong with this one, but it does amazing things for the chorus and with clear vocals...this song was and is a fast favorite. The drums in combination with the synths  makes your body move to the music; you'll find yourself singing along too. (I've certainly caught myself nodding my head many, many times when it comes on.) I'm not sure what a song needs to have, to be classified as an 'Anthem' but it is one. The bridge is amazing. The instruments are a kick to the face and the vocals trap you in a desolate frame of mind.

Favorite Lyrics: We were strangers when I believed I could wake up from this dream. As life goes on, I know that time will tear us apart and take you away. And when your gone, I'll wake up with a hand on my heart and a foot in my grave.

Rating: 2000. Its catchy, the lyrics will get stuck in your head, and its bleeds beautifully into the next song. It wouldn't be a TBM album without a few songs that bleed into each other.

Superstition

Okay, so this is one of those songs that you will listen to until your ears bleed and not even that will stop you from listening. I'm not kidding, its got the synths, very strong drums, guitars, powerful vocals, backing vocals by Rainbow(always great), it is very much a 'burn the witch at the stake' anthem of pure and utter BAMF-ness.

It will transport you to the mid 19th century (1800s, cause you know, the 20th century is the 1900s. I know its weird) during the Salem witch trials, only the witches are taking names and kicking people in the face. It is in my top five favorite songs from TBM. With each chorus the music gets more intense and keeps on going. The instrumental version of this song is just as enchanting as the version with vocals...I could go on forever about this song's 'ka-pow' and 'BAMF-ness'.

Favorite Lyrics: He stops me when I'm starting to pray. He says. “Intuition is awakening suspicion.” He says, “My tradition is the art of superstition.”  I wake up in the light of a fire, eyes burning like the ashes in submission to the heat of desire. He tells me not to preach to the choir.

Rating: 300000. A. Totally. Biased. Review. Of. Superstition. I can do what I want...but in all seriousness, its a fantastic song. Also the 'jam session'  music video for it, is amazing!

Destroyer

Its not exactly a bleed in from the other song but at the end of the previous one, it goes quiet and then bass. An excellent opening to this destroyer of eardrums (:D, see what I did there.). This song will break your eardrums if you crank it to max volume and if you don't, you won't get the impact. Ugh...the synths are so on point(This band definitely knows how to Synth or be techno...whatever).

On the vocal front, they open with a louder growling whisper; image the whispering of the Happy Birthday verses' and a dash of the harsh growling in Down. Though, Chibi mixes both hard and soft tones throughout to devastating effect. The masterful accompaniment of the drums, synths, bass and guitar enhances it even more.

Favorite Lyrics: Making wishes for me. Causing calamity. The only solution, abandons me. This a tragedy. I meet with it gratefully. Its my execution, and you're joining me.

Rating: 4000. It adds another layer to Superstition's story of a witch hunt. (In my opinion)

Surrender

I'm going to level with you, I hate the opening of this song so, so, so much. I just, the heavy panting breaths, in combination with the warble-y synths is off putting. It makes me not want to listen further.  However, the the first verse is a work of art and is reminiscent of Midnight's 'kick to your eardrums' vocals. Its great.  In fact, the verses are masterful and beautiful, the rest of the song has its good things and things I didn't like(I'm sure there are other TBM fans that liked them.).  

Good things: haunting lyrics, an even more haunting melody during the verses, and its enchanting imagery.  Things I didn't like: the weird breathy tone for some refrains, as well as those at the beginning and ending of the song, and the weird warble-y synths. (Usually I like how well TBM uses synths but not in this song.)

Favorite Lyrics: Tonight they're calling out your name. A light across the river. They're coming for you. Let me in and I'll explain. So dark outside here, I'm afraid I'll disappear. I know you're in there. I sense your fear.

Rating: 500. Unless I'm in the mood to listen to this song, I will skip it.

Oceania

The. Synths. Are. So. On. Point. They mesh so well with the vocals (also so on point) that make this song catchy AF. I lied, Diaries has got nothing on this song. You'll will sing along and you will dance to the beat. It has energy and its energy will give you energy.  The lyrics weave a tale of a shipwreck in the Bermuda triangle and three kids wash up on an island with memory loss. Their memories create ghosts that drive the kids crazy. It also could be where they album art work comes from. This song's hooks are definitely Chibi's voice, I have no words.

Favorite Lyrics:  A slight of hand to make us blind. Our past life shared, we left behind. When tomorrow comes, there'll be no end in sight. Home is something I'll never know. It's where I wanted to go. Cause in the world below, I was always alone.

Rating: 6000. This will transport you to another world.

Rain

Ugh this song is too perfect for words. The instrumental sections of this song are exceptional and make up for the slim vocal presence. The vocals that are in it, are mind blowing and cast a spell over you.  Or its the Fae queen being described that does it...oh yeah we're all enthralled by a Fae queen. (I regret nothing!). There is an instrumental version of the song that is kick ass too.

Favorite Lyrics: Praise the truth come to light. The valley of night she gives to me, from her empty heart. By silence and shame, the poison and pain flows over me.

Rating: 7000. Repeat for days.

Beyond

Same thing with Surrender, I don't like the opening. When the music hits my ears, my soul screams: SKIP.  I love the powerful delivery of the bridge's lines though...so much yes. The verses are good too, but not as good as that bridge. The vocals on the bridge and the verses, and the drums are the only things I like about it.

Favorite Lyrics: Out into the dark I stared, out there, at the edge of the world. I made a promise to never grow up and forget all the days here, when I was so young.

Rating: 800. I'll listen to if I'm in the mood, but it gets the boot like Surrender when it comes on more often than not.

The Other Side

We have another bleeder, Beyond fades into a howling wind that devolves quickly into organs(like a giant piano, not the parts...though a very legit and fair assumption considering its TBM.) Was/is anyone else reminded of Phantom of the Opera during the opening of this song? Cause there's where my mind instantly went. Everything in this song is powerful, the lyrics, the synths, the instrumental interludes, and just everything!

Without an instant favorite. I also get a very nord/viking vibe from this song. It reminds me of a winter-y wasteland and the Night King from Game of Thrones. I would happily listen to this song until my ears bleed.

Favorite Lyrics: Let me show you the way through the water. You don't have to explain yourself. Turn your face to the stars. I see you smiling. In summer I drowned you. In winter I found you.

Rating: 9000000 (Over 9000). I must have listened to it at least this many times already.

Trinity

The transition into this very alluring melody from the intensity of The Other Side is very unexpected but welcome. Though I don't like the high 'trumpet-y' synths in the middle. Other than that its a good instrumental track from TBM to close this album.

Rating: 1000. It gets more listens then the other two songs and isn't skipped as often.

Score:  

All the awards!

Why you should listen to it, why you should go listen to it for the millionth time, and why its still has such a strong pull over me even after three years.

I am unable to escape from Superstition's magnetic pull. Every time I've listened to it, I fall in love with it all over again. Its full of mesmerizing lyrics, angelic and demonic vocals, kick ass drums, bass, synths, guitar, and soul; you name it, its got it. (Could just be my fan-ness talking...) There are things I dislike about it, but those things don't impact my desire to hear it. I still have 'Superstition' days. You know those days, the days where nothing is going right and your stressed AF. On those days you come home, change out of your monkey suit, and blast your favorite record. That record makes everything better.

Superstition is my second favorite album from TBM. (Violet will always be my #1. Not only did it introduce me to TBM, it has my favorite song on it.) I hope anyone who is new to TBM or is interested because of this review,  will give this gem a shot. I certainly have no regrets from spending months on end listening to it.

[sesamerolls]

Charmed

Pairings: Ichigo/Orihime Word Count: 1000+ Rating: T in general Warning: AU Prompt set in Hogwarts

From the way in which the hysterical Slytherin girls had run off and the serene manner in which Orihime began to fix herself, he was sure this wasn’t a surprising ambush. 

It wasn’t an obligation.

So in the moment it took for her to accept his extended hand, he took another glance.

The auburn hair. Faded yellow robes. Faint scratches on her knees.

He had seen her often, usually in company of a raven-haired friend from a not so distant childhood. She seemed to accompany her in most of her lessons. Ichigo remembered one particular morning when Tatsuki had squeezed in to sit next to the chirpy girl, leaving several confused hufflepuffs in her wake.

She had left early that Christmas he realised, and from both the way in which the hysterical Slytherin girls had run off and the serene manner in which Orihime began to fix herself, he was sure this wasn’t a surprising ambush.

It wasn’t something he had planned to do. The chill in the air brittled his teeth. Hogsmeade had proved to be an extremely disappointing trip. He had usually enjoyed the weekend visit,  going to the Three Broomsticks Inn or dropping in at Maestro’s.Yet the trip had not lifted his mood. There was only a week or so until he would be back in home for Christmas and yet he still found himself irritated by Sado’s absence and indeed the persistence of some requests from seniors. He had just run away from Hisagi bellowing about quidditch practice when he saw the pair of green robbed girls squealing in delight as they squealed ‘Aguamenti’ at their target.

It took barely a second before he had produced his wand.

The results were almost instantaneous. The laughter from the girls turned to shrieks of horror as their robes began to entangle and flap as if alive. After several long moments of struggling out of their clothing, the pair ran, followed by the ominous presence of their robes chasing after them in the wind.

That had been the easy part. It was spell Keigo had jokingly referred to many times before and Ichigo was shocked he had remembered it.

Cleaning up was harder. Ichigo himself wasn’t too sure why he stepped up and asked how she was doing. Orihime managed to get up looking adjacent in attempt to find her fallen wand.

He was fixating on her eyes again.  He had settled on them being warm-brown by the time she found her wand tucked underneath her soaked pile of belongings.

“Thank you very much…I don’t really know what got into them.”

Ichigo scoffed. It hardly mattered what had gotten into them, the irritation from the pair’s earlier actions still lingered.

“You shouldn’t be wondering around alone.” He said “Not if you have them looking for a chance to pounce.”

Orihime tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. “I know. I’m usually on guard; I think I spaced out today…”

She took a cursory glance at the pile of letters now soaked on the iced ground. As she gathered her belongings, Ichigo could just about make out the frantic writing and the smudged letters.

“You’re not going home this Christmas?” he asked.

He cursed himself internally. Of course she wasn’t.

Orihime managed to sniff before nodding.

“Sor- I mean my brother is in a rather delicate state.” She confided “I’ve been told my presence may distract him from healing.”

Well that’s stupid. Ichigo thought.  It seemed like an excuse to exclude her. However it wasn’t the first time he had heard about families behaving like this especially around Christmas time.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t irritated by the suggestion.

His annoyance was visible enough for Orihime to redden significantly.

“Not that I mind!” she spluttered, waving her arms “It’s just, I haven’t heard from him in weeks and I’m just worried….”

“It’s fine.”

She paused. Ichigo coughed and looked away.

“It’s fine to be worried,” he whispered feeling something warm spread down through his throat “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

Orihime nodded, looking at her feet. “Tatsuki had to go home early this year. She kept apologising and promised to be here before the New Year but I don’t want her to come back just for me…”

It was at this point her voice broke and she turned away. Ichigo took a chance to look at her then, the brightness in her eyes slowly fading.

He had heard enough from Tatsuki. Her brother the sickly heir, her relatives all the more determined to ignore her existence.

They didn’t care for half-muggles. Let alone one from an illicit affair.

Not that the label had deterred from Orihime’s success at school. She was far from unpopular. He had seen  her admirers often enough to note that. But she was odd, rather enthusiastic and tended to bump into things so often he seemed to fixate on her each time she entered the great hall.

And yet he felt something for her he couldn’t quite explain.

All of a sudden, Orihime let out a shriek.

“Oh my goodness!” she squealed “You could be expelled!”

Ichigo blinked.

“That was what you’re worried about?” he asked nonchalantly.

Yet Orihime was facing him with concern. And despite his casualness, his tummy was doing flips.

“You’re not supposed to fight on day trips.” She spluttered “What will your family say?”

Ichigo frowned “It’s not a big deal. Besides, I’ve been in bigger fights.”

Yet he still noted the concern in her eyes. Sighing, he dug in a free hand into the pockets of his robe to pull out the list he had hastily written with a quill that morning.

“If you’re that concerned I’d get in trouble, you can help me finish my list.”

Orihime blinked, thumbing the parchment he placed gently in her hands.       

“Your list?”

Ichigo coughed. “I am buying presents from my sisters...”

Ichigo watched as she thumbed through the items, whispering each item as a gentle charm.

“….besides that, you shouldn’t be alone.”

If she was pink before, she reddened like a tomato and stammered something completely incomprehensible. Although he himself felt to warm, and suddenly very light headed he felt glad she had at least agreed to a butterbear.

Which subsequently lead to their day trip through Hogsmeade. And the day after that.

Ichigo was quite glad for it. Orihime’s eyes sparkled and she spoke with a lot of enthusiasm, energy and excitement.

A few days later, he wrote to Tatsuki and his family.

He hated the idea of her being alone.

And for that Christmas, she wasn’t.

******

Sorry this prompt took a while to deliver and any OOCness. Feeling rather rusty!

And yeah apologise for not knowing enough about the charms of the HP verse. 

Meloni and Loli are the Slytherin girls btw. 

[notesonnewyork]

Trump Against the City (2): A Brief Case Study Concerning the National Endowment for the Arts

In the first few sentences of his book The Art of the Deal [1987], Donald Trump divulged

I don’t do it for the money. I’ve got enough, much more than I’ll ever need. I do it to do it. Deals are my art form. Other people paint beautifully on canvas or write wonderful poetry. I like making deals, preferable big deals. That’s how I get my kicks. 

But he often didn’t have enough money to close those deals. In fact, as The New York Times reported in its story “A Trump Empire Built on Inside Connections and $885 Million in Tax Breaks” [September 17, 2016], he needed New York City’s succor in the form of tax breaks, grants, or other incentives to complete their financing. For example, he asked for taxpayer concessions to help him convert the old Commodore Hotel on Lexington Avenue and 42nd Street into a Grand Hyatt in 1980. The Times revealed that even though his father Fred “guaranteed a portion of the construction loan” and the Hyatt itself “took a 50 percent stake in exchange for guaranteeing the rest of the project,” Trump “insisted the [deal wouldn’t be viable] without a tax break from the city.” He had $120 million in capital to spend on developing the property, but still solicited and successfully received a 40-year tax abatement that has cost the city “$360 million to date in forgiven, or uncollected, taxes.” 

So when Trump revealed his intent to eliminate the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) as part of his $1.15 trillion budget plan this week, I had to ask: if he’s been able to avail himself of government aid to fill his funding gaps over the years, then then why not one of New York City’s cultural nonprofits? If the NEA is shuttered, so too should any and all grants to developers like Trump be rescinded. For someone who so openly praised those who “paint beautifully on canvas or write wonderful poetry,” you’d think he’d be a better friend to them now that he’s the President of the United States. You’d assume all New Yorkers would have a better friend in the White House now too.

*****

So how do NEA grants impact us anyway? Well, as City Comptroller Scott Stringer just elucidated in a report called “Culture Shock: The Importance of National Arts Funding to New York City’s Cultural Landscape” [March 2017], you’ve probably tasted the fruits of one without knowing. Over the past 16 years, the NEA has channelled serious monies into cultural nonprofits across the five boroughs: $190 million for Manhattan, $34 million for Brooklyn, $5.6 million for the Bronx, $3.3 million for Queens, and $774,500 for Staten Island. Its support has touched major disciplines like the Media Arts, Music, Theater, Dance, Musical Theater, Literature, Museums, Visual Arts, and even Arts Education. Most importantly, though, Stringer notes that 

Performing arts companies, museums, and historic sites—all beneficiaries of N.E.A. grants—are among the largest employers in the city. In 2016, they maintained a staff of 30,154 and paid $453.4 million in total wages.

In other words, you’ve probably had an NEA grant working on something behind the scenes in your life at some point. But let’s get back to Trump.

As Stringer tallied, New York City was home to 2,760 of the country’s 45,995 “active” cultural nonprofits in 2016. (One is considered active if it “filed Tax Form 900 in the last two years and reported more than zero revenue and assets.”) The vast majority were able to bankroll themselves; but, like Trump discovered while revamping the Commodore Hotel, 419 of them had some shortfalls. The NEA bridged their gaps with a total of $14.5 million in assistance--not quite the $360 million Trump has been forgiven so far--but substantial enough. 

Now critics may contend there’s enough money in affluent cities like New York to support the arts in absence of the NEA, but that’s not always the case. As anyone who’s ever solicited money can relate, some sales pitches just fall on deaf ears. Moreover, those critics might even be shocked by what types of programs these 419 nonprofits couldn’t cover with their income or private donations. And, yes, I do mean specific programs, projects, or productions. The NEA doesn’t seem to endow any organization--no matter the size--with a blank check. Thankfully, it’s pretty transparent with its appropriations, so we can look at a few of the 2016 recipients that jumped out at me:

Apollo Theater: $30K, for a concert marking Ella Fitzgerald’s 100th birthday called “100: Apollo Celebrates Ella!” 

Brooklyn Academy of Music: $50K, for 3 new artists appearing in its annual Next Wave Festival.

Celebrate Brooklyn Performing Arts Festival: $40K, for numerous artists to give free performances during the event.

Film Forum: $100K, for the premieres of American independent and foreign films, including question/answer sessions with the filmmakers. 

Friends of the High Line: $30K, for “Wanderlust,” a group exhibition of public art installations on the High Line Park.

Joyce Theater: $100K, for its Dance Presentation Program that brought in over 13 dance companies from around the US and abroad.

Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts: $100K, for production of its ongoing “Live from Lincoln Center” series.

Metropolitan Museum of Art: $75K, for the exhibition “Jerusalem 1000-1400: Every People Under Heaven” and its accompanying catalog.

Metropolitan Opera: $90K, for a production of Richard Struass’ “Elektra.”

New York Botanical Garden: $30K, for the exhibition “Impressionism: American Gardens on Canvas” and an accompanying catalog.

New York City Ballet: $100K, for the creation of new ballet by resident choreographer Justin Peck.

New York City Center: $30K, for its continuing “Encores!” and “Encores! Off-Center” series.

Nuyorican Poets Cafe: $10K, for workshops designed to teach arts managers, educators, and community leaders how to create slam poetry programs for underserved youth.

The Public Theater: $100K, for putting on its annual New York Shakespeare Festival known as “Shakespeare in the Park.” The plays: “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” and “The Winter’s Tale.”

Socrates Sculpture Park: $30K, for its Emerging Artist Fellowship Program.

Whitney Museum of Art: $50K, for a catalog of the work of artist David Wojnarowicz. 

WNET/Chanel Thirteen: $100K, for production of its enduring “American Masters” series.

Okay, I have to be honest. I’ve patronized almost all of these organizations at one time or another, but I’m astonished at some of the items on this list. I mean, how can something as popular and as long-running as The Public Theater’s “Shakespeare in the Park” need an NEA grant to make ends meet? I guess it must have been the for the same reason Trump demanded concessions for his hotel: sometimes you don’t have all the cash you require and have to ask for help.