#I don’t think he’s ever been serious in an interview unless he’s mad then nothing is funny LOL

[nick-cassidy]

golden moment from the peuegot interview was the interviewer asking if any psych evaluations are done to be a driver and jev immediately went: “no but if there were, there would be a lot less ppl racing 😌 … I wouldn’t be able to race 😊” the people’s princess everyone !

[wrenhyperfixates]

Gold Writing

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: When a charming, handsome stranger gives you inspiration for the first time in weeks, you try to guess what it is he’s famous for in exchange for his name. Warnings: none at all :) A/N: Just a little idea I’d been toying around with for a bit. Enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​ @mythicalgarlicknot​

Disclaimer: Gif and picture not mine

It was an uncharacteristically warm day for this time of year in New York City. Or so you’d been told, anyway. You had been living here for three months, tops; not really long enough to have a feel for the weather patterns. Either way, you were grateful for the sun’s rays coating your face, bathing you in their heat.

You turned your face away from the sky and down towards the sketchbook in your lap. It had been your hope that Central Park might inspire you, but you were still having artist’s block. It was at least better than being cooped up in your apartment all day. You didn’t really know anyone yet, save for your old friend who you had moved in next to. If it hadn’t been for them encouraging you, you probably never would have packed up and moved. They’d promised to introduce you to some people they knew, too, so you wouldn’t get lonely. Sadly, the scheduling never worked out.

And so, here you were, alone on a bench. Looking at all the couples and families and friends bustling and laughing around you, you thought you might be the only person all by yourself on this Saturday afternoon. Well, no, not the only one, you realized, spying a raven-haired man on a bench not too far away. His nose was buried in a book, a few locks of his shiny, dark hair falling out of his bun and framing his face. He looked familiar, but not in a "you knew him" sort of way. More in that you thought he might be famous somehow. No one else seemed to notice him, though.

You glanced back down at the empty pages, waiting to be filled by the strokes of your pencil. Then you looked back at the mystery man again, scooting a little closer to the end of your bench. Without really thinking about it, your deft fingers picked up your standard 2B pencil and began to sketch.

Starting with the sharp lines of his jaw, you moved onto his hair that intrigued you so. You don’t think you’d ever seen another person with hair that dark a color. Trying to get every last detail right, you kept glancing up and down. By the time you were onto the shading, you were certain that you had seen him somewhere before. The next time you glanced up, he was gone, and a frown settled on your features as you looked left and right, searching for the only subject to inspire you in days.

“It is a lovely drawing, darling,” a smooth baritone voice with a British accent said from behind you, “but I do not really think that is my best angle.”

You squeaked in surprise and dropped your sketchbook. The man somehow managed to reach out in front of you and catch it. He came to sit next to you, and as he walked around the bench, you realized just how tall he was.

“I think you dropped this,” he said with a charming smile, handing your sketchbook to you.

“I, uh, yeah. I did,” you stammered, hating how you couldn’t be as suave as him. Plus, he was unfairly good looking. “Thank you. And, um, sorry. About, you know, drawing you.”

“On the contrary, darling, there is no need to apologize. I am quite happy to have my likeness captured in such a flattering light,” he chuckled, taking off his sunglasses and revealing his brilliant blue-green eyes. “Really, I should be thanking you.”

With all the small details you were gathering, it felt like his name was on the tip of your tongue. Infuriatingly enough, you still couldn’t place it. You didn’t think he was a singer, that didn’t feel right. Though you did feel like his mesmerizing voice would be well suited to it. So, a well-known author, perhaps? He had been reading, after all. But you were woefully behind on your own reading list, so you had a feeling it wasn’t that either. You briefly wondered what even happened to the book he’d had; it was nowhere on him, almost like he’d stored it in some pocket of space.

“Oh,” you finally responded, nervously laughing. “You’re welcome, in that case. And thank you. For the compliments, I mean.”

“Ah, you are very welcome, too. It is not often I meet such a talented artist.” He somehow managed to sprawl out on the somewhat uncomfortable park bench, his long legs spread wide. It wasn’t indecent, exactly, but it somehow felt like it was. His arms were resting on the back of the seat so that, had you been leaning back, one of them would have been wrapped around your shoulder. “I do somehow find it hard to believe I was the most interesting thing in the vicinity, however. Though, I suppose I am rather flattered by that notion, too.”

His mischievous grin sent pleasant shivers down your spine. “Well, when inspiration strikes,” you anxiously chuckled with a shrug. Your nerves were still telling you he was about to get mad at any second.

“I do suppose that is true.” He cocked his head at you in the most adorable way. “Then I am honored to provide you with it.”

You suddenly felt even warmer than you had before, but you knew it had nothing to do with the sun anymore, but rather was from this enrapturing stranger. Though, this man’s smile certainly rivaled the sun.

“I hope you don’t mind my asking,” you began, “but you seem awfully familiar. You don’t happen to be famous, do you?”

“Oh, so you have not yet figured it out, then. I had been wondering. I suppose that, yes, I could be considered famous.”

When he didn’t say anything else, you continued, “Can I get a name then? I’m afraid I don’t really keep up with pop culture all that much.”

“Well, I suppose I could tell you my name.” His grin somehow grew to be even more mischievous. “But where is the fun in that? Besides, I am afraid you might start treating me differently if you knew.”

“Ok, that’s fair.” A spark of excitement lit behind your eyes as you got an idea and turned to face the captivating stranger. “How about this, I get three guesses about what it is you’re known for. If I get it right, you have to tell me your name. If not, then it can stay a mystery forever, if you want it to.”

“A most intriguing proposition. Alright, I accept. First guess?”

“Hang on,” you said, putting up your hand. “If I only get three guesses, I feel like it would be fair if I got to talk to you for a bit longer, at least. Unless I’m holding you up from something, of course.”

“I have time to spare, darling.” He stood up and offered you his hand. “Join me on a walk?”

An easy dialogue flowed between you as you strolled through the park. The way the light was illuminating his features made your hands itch to sketch him again. That reminded you to ask about his book, which he pulled out from seemingly nowhere.

“Hang on,” you said, getting your first idea. “Are you like a-a magician or a, um, an illusionist or something?”

“Well, it is interesting that you mention that. Magic is more a hobby than anything else,” he replied. “But not what I am known for, per se. Two guesses left.”

You frowned and flipped through the pages of the book he’d handed you. Hoping he’d made some kind of foolish error, you checked the covers for his name. No such luck. Absorbed in your hunt for clues, you weren’t paying attention to the world around you. Your companion suddenly grabbed you and jerked you to a stop. A ball whizzed past your head. If you’d kept walking, it surely would have hit you.

“You really should be more careful,” he playfully tsked. Then he grew more serious as he gently turned your head, checking for injuries. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, feeling flustered from the attention of his piercing gaze. He also felt surprisingly cool for how warm out it was. You looked up at him and saw him raising his eyebrows as if he didn’t believe you. “I’m fine, really,” you added more convincingly. “Just my pride that’s wounded, I guess. But you stopped me in time. So, thank you.”

“It was no problem, darling,” he replied as you set off on the path again. “After all, I can’t have you getting hurt before you finish guessing, now can I?”

Again, you giggled, simultaneously loving and hating how he had that effect on you. “No, I guess not.”

“So, have you found whatever it is your looking for in my book?”

Glancing down at the page you had open, you saw it was the story of Rumpelstiltskin. How ironic. You tried to forge a connection between the book of fairytales and this man in your mind, but were coming up empty. Unless, of course, he was going to the source material for some reason, like he was preparing for a role.

“An actor!” you said, feeling sure you’d gotten it now. You’d definitely felt like you’d seen him on your TV screen before. Plus, he was definitely handsome enough for it. “That’s got to be it.”

“While I have appeared on television before, that is still incorrect, darling. One guess remaining.”

Oh how you wanted to wipe that smug yet ridiculously captivating grin from his face. Maybe with a kiss... Nope, no. That was ridiculous; you just met him. Besides, he was famous. Why on God’s green earth would he be interested in you as anything more than an entertaining encounter to pass the afternoon? So, you’d just have to do it with the right guess. You put your thinking cap on.

“Ok, well if you were on TV but aren’t an actor, maybe it was in an interview,” you thought out loud, gauging his reaction. You were excited, but also sad that your game was coming to a close. He’d surely leave after, whether you got it right or not. You supposed you could always try to look it up once you got home, if you couldn’t guess correctly. At least it would make for a fun story then. “I suppose there’s reality shows too, but that doesn’t quite seem your style. And, I guess you could be doing the interviewing—like a reporter or something—but that doesn’t sit quite right either. Sports! They televise sports. Plus I’m not really a fan, so I could believe I’ve heard of you but not totally recognize you. So, my final guess is athlete.”

“And you are certain that is your final guess?” He had a wonderful poker face and gave away nothing as to whether or not it was right. “Last chance to turn back.”

You appraised him, thinking he looked like he could be an athlete. And maybe it was some reverse psychology, trying to get you to abandon the correct guess. You didn’t really have any better ideas, anyway.

“Yes?”

“So sorry, but that is incorrect. And you are regretfully out of guesses, darling.”

“Of course it's not,” you sighed. He seemed genuinely saddened by how dismayed you seemed, so you perked up. “It was fun, though. So I, uh, I guess I won’t hold you up any longer.”

“You are correct; this was quite fun. Unfortunately, I do have another arrangement to get to,” he said in a way that made you believe he was actually upset over it. “How about that sketch that started this all, though? That one you made of me?”

“What of it?” you asked.

“May I buy it off of you?”

Your mouth formed a surprised little circle. “I mean, you can honestly have it for free. It is an unsolicited picture of you, after all. I wouldn’t feel right accepting your money for it.”

“Nonsense, I am only offering a small amount, anyway. Say, the price of a cup of coffee?”

You smiled at your feet as you caught onto what he was saying. It made your insides feel fuzzy. Maybe you wouldn’t accept, though. After all, you still didn’t know who he was. But if you were to go on a date, then certainly he would tell you.

“Sure,” you agreed. “I would love that.”

You tore out the sketch and handed it to him. In exchange, he gave you his card and said to call him to set a time and place. You glanced down at the small paper in your hands, not yet reading it. By the time you looked back up, he was already gone. With your handsome stranger nowhere to be found, you went to actually read his information. Unable to contain your surprise, not to mention shock at how foolish you were, you gasped, and your jaw hung open.

Gold writing on a green card held the secret you’d been trying to find the answer to all afternoon. Of course he was an Avenger, a hero. You ran your fingers over his name, a small smile forming on your lips. You quickly punched the contact into your phone and headed off in the direction of your apartment.

“Well, I’m glad this isn’t goodbye, Loki Laufeyson,” you mused to yourself, relishing in the way his name rolled off your tongue. “I’ll see you soon.”

[chrisevansluv]

To everyone:

If one of your friends or the idiot coworker ended up famous and making millions would you still have the mindset that they should “do more” would you think them smarter, hotter, more intelligent than before just because they came into fame and fortune?

The harsh reality is while yes these people may have more money than many will ever see and so internally you feel “ if I were them or if I had that kind of money I’d do this this and that”, they aren’t you and you aren’t them. They have power and regardless if you want to believe it you have power too. Don’t give me that bs of “well they reach more people”….everyone was a nobody before the “world” made them a somebody. You start with YOU, don’t focus on trying to get another human to do something that you want or feel should be done, unless it’s their actual jobs…ie politicians…..most of these celebs are living their lives and trust, the same way many gawk over the most basic famous person….these celebs, not all see us as the same. They are surrounded by individuals who kiss their asses, tell them they’re amazing 24/7. Why do you all think these folks do the most basic shit and think it’s enough….because to millions of people it is. If the majority still supports someone after some crazy stuff , that person will still be relevant in the industry. Most celebs feel inferior and like no one can touch them. Human nature people!! Also no telling how any of us would act if we got that much power. Many don’t understand how being famous can be detrimental in all aspects, people see money and go well you’re famous so you don’t have any issues….umm wrong. Many celebs are the breadwinners of their family. Many celebs can’t call in sick or have to put on a fake smile in public when they don’t feel good or want to be bothered at the risk of being called as asshole by a “fan” wanting or demanding a pic. They have to be on guard with everyone they meet because although we feel we know them, they know absolutely nothing about us. We are literally on the internet everyday every other day discussing a man who may or may not be who we think or want him to be. We all have a different version of Chris Evans in our mind and hearts while still not knowing the actual Chris Evans 100%factually. Interviews don’t mean ish, he can say whatever he wants, whatever he’s comfortable with, etc.

My overall point is it’s so easy to think to tell someone else what they should or shouldn’t do when you aren’t aware of the full picture. Chris is doing what he feels is best based on his perspective not any of ours. He has family and genuine interest in politics. His ASP site might not mesh well with a lot of people but it’s been used as a learning tool for a lot of folks including students. How about exploring the site and not just only watch videos because Chris is in them. We hold power over government officials but if you don’t know your place and who’s in office and who you need to vote out, all you’ll do is complain. If anyone has a better idea, by all means create it.

To the anon who mentioned him acting with guns as a way he should not be talking about gun policies….are you freaking serious? If you cannot differentiate reality from make believe than maybe you need to get off the internet. Chris is a working actor. So many people can say Gun violence is bad while being gun owners….does that make them hypocritical…no.

So easy to call other people out….before anyone thinks to voice what a celeb is doing….what exactly are YOU doing to try to make things better for this world or people? You are accountable for YOU!

Also Chris is in a business and honestly it’s damned if you do and damned if you don’t. He does basic shit at times and gets praise, then he says something and people are mad he said it. If he doesn’t say something people are mad…..I understand why some celebs don’t do anything….you can’t win with humans. We’re all flawed, all hypocrites but we so easily get this high and mighty perspective to think I have a right to call out others as though I’ve never messed up or did something with good intentions that later turned to shit. Measure yourself with the same standards many are giving these celebs. Also ask yourself why you’re putting so much value and time into these celebs.

Another anon:

***

I don't really know why this rant came up though (If you're answering to someone, anon or not, please remember to show it by quoting them or making reference to who you're answering to). Or at least give me some context 😅

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 17/?

Word Count: 3.8k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your name.

So, when I started this, I didn’t expect it to become what it is, or for it to really be taken seriously. I wrote it because I wanted to get better at storytelling, and now I’m averaging 20 notes a day. That’s insane to me.

Warnings: Eludes to sex, mentions of trauma, mentions of court system, victim blaming, mentions of injuries, swearing, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Waking up next to Jason was becoming something of a routine for Y/N. It had been 4 days in a row that she woke up next to him or with him in arm’s reach. She loved that about their relationship, how quickly they both could fall asleep with each other.

She rolled over in her bed and realized Jason was sweating and clutching the sheets. She leant over him slightly and turned on the fan, hoping he would sweat less so he could be in less pain.

She didn’t know what would actually stop the pain, she didn’t actually know if he was in pain. She reached out to stroke his back, just trying to comfort him, it seemed to work. He didn’t exactly reject her advances to rub his back. But he did jump a bit when she touched him.

She didn’t want him to be hurt by her touching him, so she did attempt to wake him up. He didn’t answer her though, so she got up from her bed and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked rough like she had been crying all night about the trial. Makeup running, eyes puffy, bloodshot. But what else did she expect after that trial? She didn’t remember anything.

She decided to shower, in her own shower. It had been 3 days since she last showered, which was okay but it wasn’t something she was used to.

She got into her shower and just thought. She was fucked up. She had been fucked up this entire time, she had hidden secrets from Jason, from everyone. She thought it was selfish, immature, and irresponsible that she did that. But she also didn't know how to talk to them all. 

How do I even start that conversation? Hey, I’m fucked up, help me. I’m sorry, I messed up, she thought, I can’t do that, I can’t.

She got out of the shower and glanced at the clock like she would normally, it was 4:00am. That’s new, she thought, I didn’t know it was this early, maybe I should not have showered.

She smiled to herself a bit and took care of her face, doing a facial routine, just trying to calm herself and come off that high she was on for the majority of the day before. She knew she had to take care of herself to help her become stable again.

She knew what she did yesterday was linked to trauma, she just knew it. She didn’t know what it was, or how to combat it. But she knew she would probably not be mentally capable of watching the rest of the trial, and that was okay with her, she didn’t want to watch the rest of the trial. She would ignore her professor if he asked her to write anything about the trial. She knew he likely couldn’t because of her connections, but she wasn’t going to get mad at him.

She didn’t want to get mad at anyone for this. Opinions about the trial, asking her to talk about it, anything, she didn’t want to hate.

Jason was still asleep when she reentered her room. She smiled at him, wishing he was awake with her at that moment. She went to her notes at her desk and sighed, she guessed she would sit down and do some work. She pulled out her journal and wrote;

To each member of my family, somehow we reached here,

I’ve ended up with people wanting to hurt me,

Here we see the pain of there,

Maybe three.

I guess I can’t write poetry,

Maybe it’s all I see,

The pain, the torture, the people who hurt,

What am I doing?

She scribbled down a dying rose. She didn’t know why she did all of that. Normally she didn’t feel like that. Poetry was a good way to get all of the emotions out. Her journal had a lot, a lot, of insane writings and drawings of things she felt.

She guessed she was fucked up. But she thought the things wrong with her would make her art better. She needed therapy, probably. She was going to look into that, she decided in those moments. Therapy may help her cope with a lot of the stuff that she dealt with.

Or was she aware that she’d never be fixed?

----------------------------------------------------

She sat at her desk after making a quick coffee. It was still only 5:00am, and she was organizing her notes, just thinking. Maybe she’d paint something. Maybe she’d get a picture of the Wayne Manor Gardens and paint it. She just wanted something to fiddle with if she was going to be harassed if she left the house. She probably wasn't going to be able to leave the house for a while.

She was fine with that, she didn’t like it but she didn’t hate it either. She just wished for the trial to be over, even if the man was found not guilty of the charges.

And the longer the painting project, the longer she could spend locked away from the media. That was just all that she wanted, to walk away from the media while still keeping Jason.

He was still sleeping. She didn’t notice because she was so entranced in her own art, but he was struggling at that moment.

And then she noticed.

She got up and went to her bed and sat beside his head on the floor. She stroked his hair and tried to comfort him when he woke up.

“Hey,” she whispered.

He didn’t answer.

“You alright?” she asked.

He turned his back to her, so she stroked it.

“It’s okay if you’re not alright, baby,” she said, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

She crawled into bed with him and became the big spoon for a bit. She didn’t say anything to him, he didn’t say anything to her. He was sticky and sweaty, but she didn’t care.

Silence was killing for most people, but she sat through it and allowed him to be quiet. 

She wished for the stories behind his scars, but she didn’t want to push for them. They hadn’t been together for long enough for her to ask about it. But she loved to trace his scars with her fingers, just letting him know she knew about them. She didn’t know how he felt about it. But she tried to be kind and loving towards his scars.

Some were small holes. Some were small lines. Some were long lines. One was Y-Shaped on his chest. One existed on his cheek and she couldn’t make out what it was. 

She didn’t think that he was lesser because of his scars. He thought he was lesser for his scars.

“Hey, Jay. Do you want to eat breakfast? It’s 6:00am, we can dip to get food?” she asked, trying to make him feel better.

“If you don’t mention the nightmares, sure.”

“I won’t.”

He rolled over to her and smiled before kissing her.

------------------------------------------

They got up a couple hours later, clothes strewn across her room, boxers and pants torn. She laughed, hoping he would still have clothes to wear.

“Don’t laugh, I might have nothing to wear!”

“I hope you have something to wear, babe.”

“And what if I don’t? We were pretty messy.”

“We were, but still. If you have nothing we’re kind of fucked,” she said, glaring.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re cute. Just stop staring at me like that! It takes two to tango!”

“The forbidden horizontal tango,” she said between laughs.

“The forbidden horizontal tango is now  the only way I am going to refer to sex.”

“I mean as you should.”

“My family is going to kill me for calling sex that.”

“I mean as they should,” she laughed, “Did you find clothes?” she asked, having already gotten dressed.

“Okay that’s unfair, you can’t wear new clothes when I’m stuck with ripped boxers.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have worn them in the first place,” she said, laughing, “And to be fair, Jay, I’m the one with clothes and you didn’t follow your own suggestion for an overnight bag.”

“Okay, listen, first of all,” he grabbed her, “That’s obviously my fault but shush, secondly, you’re dressing very black today,” he observed.

“Felt I would look the part of dating a Wayne.”

“No one’s going to see you.”

“That’s the point. I’m an invisible partner of a Wayne.”

“Well, I think you look nice.”

“I’m glad,” she laughed, “How ripped are your clothes?”

“Decently. Not noticeably, but decently.”

“Fun! Shall we go?”

He laughed and grabbed her arm, pulling her lightly to the car and getting in to drive. 

“You ever think the vigilantes around here have complex lives?” she thought aloud.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do they have crazy, fulfilling lives like us, or are they just there to be heroes of the night? Are they sitting there wondering if they’re going to come home to their partners or if their parents are worried about them?” she questioned.

He sat there, looking forward. If only you knew. If only you knew what I go through, what everyone goes through. He managed to laugh and blow her off, “Maybe they’re just robots made to fight crooks in alleyways.”

“I’m serious. What if they’re all out there worried they’re going to die?”

“C’mon now.”

“Jay! They’re people!”

“They’re probably okay, baby. I doubt they’re out there almost dying.”

She wanted to say ‘You almost died’ but she bit her tongue, “That’s probably true. But it’s always something I thought, even when I lied in Metropolis with god damn Superman. I always wondered if he had a home to go to.”

“Who knows. Who knows.”

“They would. Maybe I should get a job as a reporter, interview some of them. Say ‘Fuck it’ and know if they have homes.”

“That’s dangerous.”

“How?”

“My Aunt, Iris, Barry’s wife? She’s a reporter. She’s on the frontlines for the supervillains and the small-time crooks of the world.”

“So anything and everything in between? Festive.”

“Well, that’s the life of a reporter. Journalists? Like my Uncle? He deals with a lot less bullshit unless they link him to Bruce. Iris is a reporter so she’s constantly there, Clark is usually never there.”

“Well, we at least know the elusive reporter and journalist have families,” she joked and he laughed.

“The elusive reporter and journalist in their natural habitats, my favourite National Geographic episode.”

She looked out her window at the streets and the people. She hadn’t been outside at night recently on the streets of Gotham, and she missed it. There was always something about it that made her keep coming back. Maybe it was the orphaned kids that she would go and make sure were okay. Maybe it was the fact that she watched one of the vigilantes swing to another roof.

She still remembered that moment well. She thought it was amazing, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for her to have experienced. She wished she knew more, even if she just knew which one they were. So she could go on the forums and ask if people had spoken to them. Maybe it wasn’t a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, maybe others had witnessed what she did, but she wouldn’t know if she did not know which it was.

“Hey, random question, do you know the vigilantes' names in the city?” she asked Jason.

“Uh, yeah? Why?” he responded.

“Okay so, the first night I walked home from your house after my car got towed right? I saw one of them. I’m not familiar with the vigilantes of the city, so: Do you know which one is the one with the blue bird symbol on their chest?”

“Oh, that one’s Nightwing. He seems cool, I don’t know, never actually met the guy.”

“Don’t Wayne Galas get attacked by villains on the regular though?”

“That doesn’t mean we get to talk to them,” he laughed, “It would be cool if we did, though.”

“Yeah it would. Would be a killer story for your Uncle and Aunt.”

“They are the only tabloids I liked because they leave us alone.”

“No reports from the Daily Planet about the Waynes?” she joked.

“God, Dad would probably half-jokingly sue Clark over that. Like sue him for 3 dollars or somethin’ levels of jokingly suing him.”

“Now, that, that would be a story for the tabloids.”

“Remind me to tell Dad about that, maybe it’ll get the press off your back.”

“You say that like your extended family cares about my trials.”

“They do, they wonder how you found yourself wrapped up in 2 crimes in the span of 2 weeks.”

“I wish I knew how I did that.”

He laughed, “If only we knew.”

“I guess we go get breakfast now, fast food?” he asked.

“Obviously, I’m not eating in a restaurant with this high of a profile recently, my god,” she laughed.

“Alright, anything in particular? I can just order for you if you’re not up to talking to some people.”

“Go for it.”

“Alright.”

She didn’t pay attention while he ordered, instead she opened her lovely cellphone. And there they were, the tabloids click baiting the trials she was involved in. She rolled her eyes, knowing most of them were wrong, when she saw the article written by Clark Kent about it. She was tempted to read it, to know what Clark said. She figured he’d be an unbiased source fo information, but also likely more on her side than the defendant’s side. She didn’t even know the defendant's name.

She tapped on it and began reading.

The Case of The Court Versus David Brown.

Brown is a man known to the courts of Gotham, and the county jail of Gotham. When he was accused of assaulting a young woman, Ms. Y/N (Last name), not many members of the Gotham Police Force were shocked.

On the first day of the trial, Brown was asked to plead, to which he said, “Not guilty, your honor,” which is under a lot of scrutiny of those who have seen the video of Ms. (Last name) running from Brown in the alleyway where she head-butted him.

The prosecution opened their case,

“Ms. (Last name) was assaulted by the defendant, there is no question about it. The question here is if his motive was for the ransom Ms. (Last name) referenced in her interview with police after the event. The defendant very clearly went after Ms. (Last name) because of her ties to the billionaire Bruce Wayne, who would have easily paid the ransom for her if she hadn’t escaped.

The defense opened their case,

The question of whether or not my client assaulted Ms. (Last name) is not up for debate, he did assault her. However, it was in self-defense. She had assaulted him first, pulling him into the alleyway and attempting to make advances on him. She twisted the story in her on words to include the head-butting incident, in reality, my client punched her for her advances.

The people who watched the first event of the trial have noted being “Disgusted” and “Annoyed” at the practices that the defense brought to court, “Slandering the name of Ms. (Last name) when she is the victim.” many people are upset with the defense in this trial.

The next day of the trial should take place within a week. Until then, the questions are not going to be answered.

She looked at the defense's argument numerous times. She was in shock that they would accuse her of such bullshit. She was terrified that they would get away with this, when Jason pulled her out of her thoughts with a coffee.

“You shouldn’t get so involved in the tabloids right now, love.”

“Sorry, if it makes you feel better your Uncle wrote it. And thank you.”

“Anytime. I guess Clark wrote it well, but you watched the trial?”

“I don’t remember it.”

“You’re probably not going to watch more of it, are you?”

‘No way,” she said while drinking her coffee as they drove back to her house.

“That’s fair. No one expected you to be able to be able ot watch it.”

She nodded and kept drinking, “They made up so much bullshit.”

“They did, oh my god, I was pissed, baby. I was so god damn mad. Because what the fuck do you gain from lying?”

“Don’t even put that question in the universe, you know they’ll try to answer it the next time they’re in trial.”

“God you’re right,” he laughed, “Got you a breakfast sandwich. At least the dammed tabloids can’t take that away from us.”

“Thank god,” she laughed, “Thank you.”

“Seriously, anytime. It’s worth it.”

“You’ve spent so much money on me.”

“Pocket change.”

“Well, duh. Trust-fund baby.”

“Ouch.”

“I’ll take you somewhere when I’m less high-profile. Maybe we’ll fake a breakup to keep everyone off my ass so we can go somewhere.”

“Fake a breakup? Wouldn't that just make you hated?”

“I’m already hated. I’m a gold-digger, a whore, a cheater, a statistic, a suicidal maniac, a homicidal maniac, a psychopath, I can go on and on about the shit being said about me.”

“Man, people need to keep their mouths shut.”

“You could say that again- don’t actually. But like, what the fuck did I do to deserve this, honestly? All I did was go on a date with you to get bombarded, yes, I do treat the press unfairly, but I do my best to never say a bad word about them publically, just jokes,” she joked, “I hate this,” she laughed.

“I hate tihs too,” he laughed, “You’re worth it though.”

“Oh man, a week into dating, two weeks into knowing each other and we’re here.”

“We should be anywhere else but in the midst of these terrible circumstances.”

“It’s unfortunate.”

---------------------------

Drinking her coffee on her bed with Jason beside her was something else, it was probably the most they had branched out in 4 days. The silence was lovely now that neither of them were having issues. They ate and drank in silence. They didn’t need constant conversation to prove that the enjoyed the presence of each other. 

She took a minute to take it all in, the messy shelves in her bedroom, the place on her desk where her laptop belonged, the broken handle to her bathroom door, the sheets on her bed which had been pulled and ruffled from Jason and her having fun. 

She looked out her window and looked at the rain starting to pour and decided to cuddle closer to Jason. He was warm but had a presence of underwhelming coldness to him, like he gave off fake body heat. She didn’t know what it was, but the extremes of his body were something she enjoyed but hated.

The exposition between his black hair to his white tuff of hair, the rough eyebrows to the small and delicate freckles, the blue of his eyes which seemed to glow green. The way it was like she was driving down a road, full speed ahead, and crashed into a wall, that was how it felt to be with Jason.

But who doesn’t love to die in a fiery accident into a wall at 500mph?

She laughed internally at her own joke about him before grabbing his hand and yanking him into the living room and past her roommate, A/N. A/N did not question it, because there was a new life to her roommate recently.

She dragged him out into the rain, to which he protested.

“What the fuck, respectfully?”

She laughed, “Don’t be respectful, and trust me. I’m going to make a movie moment.”

“I’m getting wet.”

“That’s my job,” she joked as she turned on a slow song before going to Jason and dancing with him.

“Well, can’t say I’ve done this,” he said.

“I don’t think most couples do.”

“Then why are we?” he asked

“Uh, yolo? You only live once, might as well dance in the rain with one of your lovers?” she retorted.

“One of them? Am I not the only one?”

“Oh no, you are,” she laughed, “But who knows, maybe we’ll fuck monogamy up the ass,” she joked.

“Probably not.”

“Probably not.”

And they danced for a few hours. Twirling and dipping in the rain. Watching the clothes they were wearing get more and more wet until the the white parts of Y/N’s dress were see-through, which took a while considering how small they were. 

Their hair was soaked and her makeup was running but they didn’t care. They were having fun, and no one was going to stop them, not a villain, not a vigilante, no one. He would wipe away her makeup since it was basically already off her face and laugh.

“Your makeup looked nice before we came out here.”

“I bet! The rain’s probably washing it all way, did I look like I was crying?”

“You looked like you were sobbing.”

She laughed, “You love to see it, you really do.”

The music was basically drowned out by the rain. It was on her phone, so it was probably water damaged from the rain, but no one cared. They just wanted to have fun.

But the dancing got tired because of the fact that Y/N was in heels, so she went and picked up her phone. It wasn’t damaged. She looked at her recent texts while Jason tugged her lightly to the bathroom, to see that Bruce Wayne, Jason’s dad, had paid off her car and it was being driven back to her house.

“Hey baby?”

“Y/N?”

“Did you tell your dad to pay off my car?”

“Oh, yeah. I figured it’d get impounded and my dad could just wait a while for you to pay back. It getting impounded was going to cost you more money.”

“God you're right and I hate that.”

He laughed and kissed her before turning on the shower.

--------------------------------------------

That was the second time that day that they had had sex. It was impressive that they had had sex that many times, and that many rounds. They thought it was fun as all hell to have sex whenever they had the chance.

Maybe they were saying “Suck it” to Bruce, or maybe they were just having fun. Maybe it was both.

“You look so cute with my hand around your neck,” he said behind her before lightly grabbing her neck and pulling her head back to his chest. He buried his face in her shoulder.

“He says while looking down,” she joked.

“I’ll squeeze.”

“Jay, we just showered. C’mon. Keep it in your pants.”

He groaned, “No fun,” he tilted his head into the crook of her neck and started leaving little kisses.

“Jay, C’mon.”

He sighed, “Fine. Fine, fine, fine. I guess we can stop,” he jokingly-whined at her, “At least we can kiss.”

“That’s true, but get dressed.”

“Get dressed!” he whined to her, “In this economy!”

“God dammnit,” she laughed, “Stay naked then and I’ll eat your food.”

“Don’t you dare.”

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales: Jaw$! or How Lena Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Webby (Lena Retrospective Commissioned by WeirdKev27)

Trigger Warning: Part of this review contains discussions of abuse which can’t be avoided but I still want to be senstive to my audience and any trauma they’ve gone through.  Welcome back weblena world to Shadow Into Light: My Lena Sabrewing Retrospective. And Jaw$ is here, long live Jaw$. Tiffany was a shark who bites the law she was in an episode i’m reviewing called Jaw$. 

And it’s the money shark before the storm as next month i’ll be going from two Ducktales reviews a week with the Lena retrospective and the last few episodes.. to three, as i’ll ALSO be covering the Della arc from season 1 in the build up to shadow war. And if your wondering if I expertly planned this to coincide with the finale, to the point the shadow war review and those leading up to it will be on the same week as the finale.... nope. I just got REALLLLY lucky as I already had all of that planned out, and the schedule for the  new episodes happened to synch up perfectly, ending just in time for me to revisit the series start and having Magica’s big in person appearance reviewed a week after we get her backstory in Life and Crimes. Though I am VERY happy it worked out this way as I get to properly celebrate the series end with more ducks than ever, and get to cover the pilot the same month as the finale, all things i’d of loved to do anyway and probably would’ve rejiggered my schedule to do. Point is lot of Ducktales content coming for this blog if you like that so stay tuned, but for now join me won’t you under the cut as we dive into a money bin of gay ducks, shadowy machinations, and Bad PR. 

We open as Lena and Donald awkwardly sit on the couch, waiting for Scrooge and the Kids to get home. Understandably it’s just.. dead silence.Given their a cynical teenager secretly working for and forced to obey a horrifying shadow monster and a 35 year old man who dosen’t like living in this house due to painful memories of his presumed dead sister.. and painful memories of pain in general, you have a huge awkward bowl of chips and “I really don’t want to be here right now”. 

Our heroes return though, and Louie tries to take some of their haul for himself but Scrooge stops that “It goes in the bin not to next of kin. “... Man in a Hurry if you would please. 

Thank you. Man in a Hurry everybody. He has to go now, he’s in a hurry. 

 As you can probably guess I do not like this, as it reminds me WAY too much of Scrooge’s worst “quirk” in the comics: how he’d barely pay his nephews, who are often hard up for cash mind you and one of whom is supporting three children ALONE, take them around the world and reap all the benefit for their hard work. It’s not like he did nothing, he did, but it’s way to exploitive for my tastes and can often sink a story if taken too far. It’s not AS bad... but they all went on the mission they all deserve at least something. I DO get keeping the rarest and most dangerous stuff for himself, as he is bankrolling things and does have two bins and a massive garage to safetly store them. But this just comes off as douchey for this version, who while liable to make mistakes with them, is far more nurturing towards his boys and girls. 

Thankfully this was course corrected next season. While Scrooge’s greed was properly restored.. this sort of treatment wasn’t. “Treasure of the Found Lamp” had him undergo character development and realize simply hoarding his treasures isn’t right or fair, and set up a musuem wing so both duckburg and his descendants can see them and get the stories behind them. And on not getting to take things clearly he’s eithe relaxed or stopped the policy as our heroes do have souveneers from time to time. Not a LOT mind, but little things like Dewey having a giant sword or Scrooge outright giving Louie one of his things show he did soften up. Though Della’s return and likely lack of tolerance for this stupid policy in the first place probably helped a lot, I also like to think he did change a bit and realize it was deeply unfair they didn’t get more than a few treasures of their own. So the writers did realize they kind of went overboard here.  I suspect this was more to setup for the episode’s subplot and to make Scrooge’s karma at the end feel justified. Speaking of which we get the start of said Subplot as Beakley comes in with a money cart and the news the board called. Why they called his house instead of his phone I don’t know, some things slip through the cracks when you running both a billion dollar company an da trillion dollar fiendish organization  for world larceny. I mean they clearly worked themselves so hard the other two apparently died between seasons. That or it was the diet of whiskey, orphan tears and grease in a wine glass both had. Bradford always told them it’d kill them though to his credit he only said I told you so twice at their funeral. 

For once no their not mad Scrooge is spending all the money they use to buy fowl jetskis, but because the Company’s having a bit of a PR nightmare now that Scrooge is back in the adventuring game. And we cut to the beanstalk they just adventured on having tore up a good chunk of the town and destroyed large swaths of it just to sell the point this isn’t their normal old man yells at other old man for spending all me money schitck, but a serious problem. As such they’ve booked him an interview with Roxanne Fetherly to improve his image and the companies. 

Scrooge scoffs at this, baffled why he has bad pr as his adventuring is GOOD for the city in the long run: He pays for any damages it causes, and likely at a cost no less which is a LOT coming from scrooge, and puts most of the money he makes on these adventures back into the city and his company, creating more jobs and better living conditions. He does get a wakeup call via  truly hilarous gag as Launchpad pops his head up to say “Good news mr. mcdee, it missed the orphange!” before getting ready to chainsaw the stalk for him. He quickly realizes MAYBE he needs some PR and agress to the interview. 

 This whole subplot really plays into one of the series main themes, one Frank brought up a few months back: Risk vs Reward. Adventuring is entirely about this, that adventure is dangerous, can cost you a lot as we see with Della and the aftermath of her terrible decision making, and can hurt people.. but it can also help people, bring money to those who need it, free those who are being oppressed and open new worlds to everyone. This subplot distills it down great: Scrooge is right that his adventures do bring in money, and as seen with the first episode brought in clean water and power with no drawbacks and only asked to be paid for it, which is fair given he still has to run machines and likely help relocate any workers whose jobs are now redundant to other parts of the company and retrain them. But it costs people their homes and jobs, not forever but still as long as it takes to construct, tears up roads and puts people in danger. It’s plots like this that make Bradford the perfect final boss for the series: He’s someone who blinds himself to the reward of all this and only sees the risk, and raises valid points even if he himself is deeply wrong. He’s right Scrooge causes a lot of danger and threat to the world.. but wrong in that he dosen’t see it’s all worth it for the good of everyone. 

But enough about future story arcs let’s get back to this one, as Webby excitedly greets Lena and hugs her, realizes she’s not hugging her back then gives her another squeeze anyway after claming to hate hugs when just a LOOK at Webby would tell you that’s false. The two are having a sleepover, Webby’s first ever.. and given Lena’s essentially an Emo Hobo and the closest thing she has to home is that starlight ancient amptheater that’s never properly explained. Seriously ancient ruins near Duckburg dosen’t suprise me, but at least tell me what they are and why Magica chose them. And why Louie hasn’t tried to sell tickets to Dewey boxing a gorilla in them. Or probably a possum I mean their on a budget and gorillas snap necks, but still i’d pay to see that as would we all. 

Point is it’s their first sleepover and naturally Webby’s first bit of smalltalk.. is how tucking in can be used for interogation techniques. I’d be more suprised if earlier this season it hadn’t already been shown Beakly regularly enrolls her daughter in the no murder, unless you really want to, hunger games every year. The fact Webby hasn’t become the bat is only because she hasn’t found a costume that’s the right combintion of pinks and purples to instill pantswetting terror yet. That shit takes time. 

Lena goes to the bathroom.. to talk to Magica who we properly get to meet. She did speak last time, but this ep is the one that properly establishes her personality for the reboot: she has clever plans, tons of power, if sealed currently, and is a genuine threat.. but she’s also a bit of a ham, in love with the old ultra violence and really short sighted in her plans, something we got hints of last time as her best solution to the Beakly Problem was  to just leave her to die and hope scrooge and webby, two people who love solving mysteries and unlocking puzzles, don’t investigate the horrifying death, accident or not, of their only friend and grandmother, and that neither, especially the 12 year old spiraling with grief, would suspect a former spy died. Thoguh in fairness on the spy thing it’s plausable Magica didn’t know that, but still it’s a bad plan. Magica has good ideas but is just so obessed with the brute force way of doing things she forgets the subtle approach works better.. and so far it has well for Lena.  Problem is it’s VERY clear by this point that Lena likes Webby, maybe not romantic styles JUST YET but it’s getting there. Webby on the otherhand has been in love with Lena from the freaking concept art which showed her blushing around her.. and that was in her 87 design.. which they thankfully changed. It’s not terrible but it just dosen’t fit well with this universe. Point is Lena is catching feelings and Magica realizes this and tries to gaslight her telling her she’d never acccept the truth abotu her and so on. As we all know and as we’ll see that’s bullshit but it’s an effective manipulation. We also find out Magica’s plan: she had Lena sneak a jewel into the treasure going into the bin, and it’s going to turn into a monster that will seek out the Number One Dime for them. She also vaugely hints that there’s something Lena needs from Magica. 

Once Lena returns, and Webby let’s her rabbit know the interogation isn’t over, she gives her possible future girlfirend a gift: friendship bracelets! They both put them on and it’s really fucking cute.. and will be both a tangible symbol of hteir friendship and a plot point several times, something I honestly hadn’t thoguht about till now. Lena, put off by the gesture not because she dosen’t aprpciate it because of the crushing guilt of lying to the one person who cares about her under the insucrtions of a sociopath, goes to Webby’s big old corkboard which is always fun to look at.. especially since it’s clearly the ONLY glimpse at Hortense we’re going to get all series. 

We’re not getting Grandma Duck either. Though at least Frank actually regrets that one. But the important part is one of the posts mentoniing Scrooge hates magic, something Webby elaborates on: He hates spells, hexs curses and what not and feels them a shortcut.  From the man who has a garage full of them. 

I do kid as I did realize there’s a valid expliantion for this: Scrooge will use magical items, protection spells that sort of thing.. but he uses them like anything else as needed. He’s too pragmatic to not say, use the jewel of atlantis to give a city clean energy and water he can montizie, or the split sword against FOWL.. but more often than not he just dosen’t need them. He collects them because it’s fun, oftne profitable.. and their simply SAFER in his museum wing, garage and second bin will get to in two weeks. He’s seen time and time again how people misuse magic, forget it has a price, or just rely on it instead of actual skill. He’s also clearly been on the bad end of a LOT of evil sorcerers and soreceresses, especially magica. Magic isn’t inherently bad, which in itself is a BIG message of Lena’s arc, it’s just somethign that’s the OPPPSOITE OF everythign scrooge is: sacrifcing others for power, relying on something besides yourself, distance attacks versus up close and personal phsycial attacks.. it was never going to be for him and tons of bad experinces with it only cemented it. He’s just not so stubborn outside of the santa thing to avoid something if it’s going to net him a profit or come in a pinch. 

So naturally Scrooge has banned any magic books from his house, as he has no use for spellcasting and any he’d need to keep for saftey or history’s sake are likely at the archives, but just as naturally, Webby smuggled one in and wants to try it with Lena ducking it and asking to play some games. I”m sure Huey has a few yugioh decks in his room go bug him. But before they can decide on one, the boys attack for a PILLOW FIGHT.... which is a sweet gesture and them just wanting to hang out, but ends with them all eating the ground and questioning why they thought attacking the duck equilvent of cassandra cain was a good idea. Louie decides to salvage it with a swim.. but since their pool has a boat in it he has a diffrent location in mind: the bin.

So while they head off to get head injuries, Beakly tries to prepare Scrooge as the Media are vultures and looking for the next scandal with public figures and it’s accurate. But given Scrooge’s natural mood is grumpus, this dosen’t go well at all and even a spray bottle dosen’t exactly help.. I mean it is the best method to deal with grumpy old men but it can only do so much. 

At the bin we get a lovely bit as Dewey prepares to dive and his brothers treat it like an olympic one, with both doing commentary, Dewey’s apparently response to if he was worried about brain damage was Nerp, and we get the wonderous national anthem of dewdonia. Just nice as well as lovely to see the brothers just having a crack and enjoying each others company with their own weird injokes but without the injokes feeling as forced as they were in “Beagle Birthday Massacre”. Things take a turn though as we see just what magica created with the stone... a giant shark made of scrooges money who eats that fucker in a single bite.. in this case Dewey. Louie and Huey naturally run off panicked.

So while Huey and Louie gain another scarring memory to tell their therapist when their older, Scrooge begins his interview with Roxanne Fetherly who.. honestly just weirds me out. Not for any personality stuff but because she has green feathers. And it just.. really feels WEIRD. I mean green ducks are a thing in real life.. but it just looks off to have such a pastel color on a duck when the other colors are white or tones meant to invoke real world races, allowing ducks to be black, latino, asian and so on and so on coded. That’s fine and blends in fine.. but with that metaphor the green just really dosen’t fit well at all. It feels like an early decision they made, but decided not to retcon or go with for anyone else which makes it all the more weird. We’re 3 seasons in , almost at the end, and the only other green duck we’ve seen was like that because of magic and the offputting nature of it WORKS for magica. Here I just don’t get it and I never well. But naturally Roxanne starts in on invasive, gotcha questions with no real good answers or time to respond, so fox news level questions, and then asks what part of ireland he’s from. 

Naturally that sets him off so while that rant goes on, literally next time we see him he’s still going on about it, we cut to the girls playing truth or dare.. and given Webby’s first question is about deepest darkest secrets the boys once again save her by running in... to report on the monster she created that just ate their brother. Lena brushes it off but does get them not to go to scrooge claming he’ll throw them to the shark himself. I mean he’s not comics scrooge so he probably woudln’t but their also two scared 11-12 year olds so it works well enough. They just need a way to go after the money shark. Enter launchapd who in the second best bit of the episode, says he sensed his best friend dewey was in danger. Beck’s delivery is what sells it.. and I’m not going to question it. He’s somehow alive despite presumibly living off a diet of spaghett-o’s, barely avoiding a car accident on his best days, and as we’ll find out later believing children in costumes are monsters he summoned when he was 8. The fact he suddenly has spider sense specifically related to people he cares about is honestly less of a surprise than the fact he’s not in heaven crashing God’s Speedboat into God’s Golden Castle with God’s Golden Lion riding shotgun. 

So they do the natural thing and.. steal Donald’s houseboat while he sleeps. He has no more involvement in this episode other than noticing it’s back and not in great condition at the end. I bring this up because this is one of Donalds ONLY apperances this season, and it’s part of the larger more irritating problem that he’s hardly ever used.. despite promoting him as a major part of the series. 

I will talk about this more during the Della arc as i’ts more relevant there, but needless to say it bothers me a lot and not knowing how to ballance it’s massive main cast was a constant struggle for the series even up to the final episodes going on right now. 

So our heroes head out on the bin late at night, where could the Jaw$ be she’s nowhere in sight. So they decide to use other treasure as a lure they either fished out of a bin or out of scrooge’s bathwater. How bathing in coins gets him clean I don’t know and frankly I dont’ think we want the answers to that and the idea of scrooge fully naked is so horrifying I forgot what I was talking about.

Ah yes our heroes are playing bait the money monster and find out it’s a shark, and Lena.. is not okay with that and goes to talk to Magica inside the boat. Magica tells us she has a name, Tiffany. Awww what a lovely name for a money shark. I would of gone with Rags to Bitches, but I may have brain damage.  Lena understandabily does not like the idea of getting eaten by a shark, asked to be informed and while Magica is mad at her for going after the thing, Lena reasonably points out that it was this or Scrooge got involved.  Up top Huey tries catching it with a bit of treasure on a rope.. after not shutting up about shark facts because “Facts comfort me when i’m nervous!” Precious angel. But Huey’s leg gets caught and he and Louie, somehow on the latter get thrown up in the air and chomped. Back bellow Webby has a suggestion: using magic. Lena naturally not wanting to blow her cover or really liking magic period is against it for now. 

Back at the interview, Roxanne brings on a special guest to prove people don’t like scrooge: GLOMGOLD!

Glomgold may create some issues for the subplot and we’ll get to those in due time, but damn if it isn’t always a pleasure to see him. He’s also on good terms with Roxanne... are.. are we sure this is local news and not fox news? Taking the word of a conservative greedy billionare over a progressive one seems like a fox move. Though I might actually watch fox news if glomgold was a commentator.  “I propose a red new deal instead of this blasted green new deal, I throw Scrooge to a tank of sharks connected to a generator, the tank turns red with his blood and that somehow creates power! HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT MCDUCK” 

So we get the best bit of the episode as Glomgold tries to complain about his building being destroyed which would be fair... if he hadn’t tried to blow up Scrooge’s bin twice this week, with Glomgold going for THREE.. for threee.. for three... it dosen’t go off but it does get scrooge to say he’s glad the building was destroyed. Which is fair but NOT super great PR.  

Back at the shark things don’t get better as Webby and Lena argue over the use of magic, I mean as much as they can argue Webby just wants to know why she’s so cagey about this while they go with plan “Launchpad crash into it”. Launchpad also gives a hell of a monologue. Good on you bud. As you can see launchpad’s gotten 100% better since his low point in our last episode. That’s because it’s clear the writers had some struggle ballancing his amped up stupidity with actual competence, making him primarily jokey comic relief in the first few episodes and I wouldn’t be shocked if Terror of The Terra Firmians was written before a lot of the later episodes despite airing around the same time. But by mid-season he’s got his much more lovable charactersation of a dangerous moron..l but one who CAN be competent and is genuinely charming due to how much he cares about his friends and his job. They also dialed down the stupid down to an acceptable homer simpson level: still a danger to himself and others but hilariously so. Point is they fixed it and while i’ll complain about mistakes the show made I will give this crew all the credit for course correcting time and time again and actually listening to fan feedback.

So Webby figures they tried the Jaws option and lost the boat and launchpad, time for plan Magic. They hold hands, EEEEEEEEE, and try a spell.. and it clearly starts working but almost works TOO well, as Lena starts glowing first purple.. then blue. Hmmmm... intresteing. Lena breaks it off and Tiffany breaks out of the bin.. just as scrooge says on the news his adventures aren’t dangerous. 

Scrooge naturally goes to face it while Webby wonders why Lena didn’t go for it. To make it a triple Scrooge shows up in time to distract tiffany.. with the number one dime, which as lena found out earlier is on his person rather than at the bin like the public thinks. So while Scrooge puts up a good show.. seriously it’s really awesome and really neat looking, though he also gets VERY upset that people are naturally holding out buckets for the cash shark, which he’s not happy about because well.. he did EARN that money. Most bin money is stuff directly earned by him so fair enough. But while he’s you know, Scrooge Fucking McDuck, and thus puts up a good fight the monster eats him.. and gets the dime stuck in it’s tooth with Magica wanting Lena to grab for it, forgetting that minons, while mildly disposable, aren’t really replaceable when your SOUL’S ATTACHED TO THEM. That’s where Magica’s weakness is. her plans aren’t half bad but as I said, she’s far too bloodthirsty and short sighted. She has better ones than glomgold but ironcially they share the same problem of not thinkign them through. And Magica cares so little for lena she’s blinded to the fact her own personal saftey is tied up in her. 

Lena naturally dives for her future girlfrriend and heads into the belly of the beast. And it’s here her REAL moment of truth is. While the one last episode was noble.. it was also easy enough to brush off internal as pragmatisim. Letting Beakly die would’ve brought too much heat and been too easy to quickly go terrible, while saving her got her off Lena’s trail and gave her free reign of the manner. But here? Webby is about to slip into Tiffany’s stomach and whle she hasn’t digested anyone yet given who made Tiffany with it’s likely just because she hasn’t had enough mass to create chainsaws to carve them all up. It’s the Dime or Webby. Lena’s own freedom or the girl she loves. Nothing good comes from saving Webby.. other than Webby. Other than the one person whose truly loved her. I mean think about it: She was created by magica, abused for a good decade and a half. No one but Magica has had a chance to care about her and as we’ve seen Magica only sees her as a weapon to get back at scrooge and not as a person. Webby was the first person she’s ever made a genuine connection with, that’s been there for her, that loves her unconditionally and woiuld be there for her no matter what. And it’s in that moment Lena realizes she can’t sacrifice her for her own good... that after years of having to be selfish to surivive being chained to that monster... she can’t be this time. No mastter what it costs her.. Webby is priceless. So Lena recites the spell, growing bright blue and blowing up tiffany. Lena gladly hugs webby who reciorpates, awww gaybies, and Launchpad hugs dewey. Awww... what it’s still precious he’s a good surrogate uncle. The wacky kind who sleeps in a van on your lawn. 

So Scrooge is glad.. though it’s here his subplot falls flat. Him getting attacked by the media and getting a compupance by loosing tons of money from tiffany is fine. Evne if he earned it, his lack of care did bring this on him.. hte problem is they take it too far by having all his nemies show up, him unable to say anything and glomgold blatantly doing so just to steal from him. Otherwise the subplot is fine, a bit heavy on scrooge being a dick but it has to to work and puts him in an awkward situation. But this ending just feels to over the top to realy enjoy. And the series does do over the top humor well so I don’t know what happened here. But having a bunch of outright thieves steel his money instad of a bunch of citizens who didn’t know better and deserved it for the damage, feels wrong and it tastes wrong. 

Speaking of feels wrong and tastes wrong we get an INTEINTONAL dose of that as back at the amptheater, Lena and Magica argue about the situation and Magica trying to kill her. Lena tries to walk away but can’t.. phsyically. Magica won’t let her. And this is honestly a very crushing and very well crafted metaphor for how abuse victims sometimes CAN’T escape their abusers. Magica is verbally abusive, treats lena like she’s disposable and constnatly downtalks her self esteem. To Lena magica is nothing but a tool.. but like MANY children caught in horrifcally abusive situations Lena can’t get away. It’s a literal metaphor, an da good one, for how you can’t ALWAYS escape abuse easily, and this especially true for kids who have nowhere to go and hte law on their abusers side more often than not. It’s hard to escape an abusive parent and even harder when they dont’ consider you a person. I thankfully have no personal experince with this but it dosen’t make it any less of a problem nor any less noble of this show to tackle the subject in a frank, if fantastical, way, and a good chunk of Lena’s arc is overcoming this abuse and not letting her abusive past drown her. But for now.. all she can do is agree to do what Magica says till she can hopefully be rid of her. But the light at the end of the tunnel’s coming.. there’s just a whole lotta darkness first. 

Next Time: We take a break from the episodes to cover some Lena related comics for a double feature; The first Spies Like Us has everyones faviorite lesbian ducks go on a spy adventure that was never printed in the us for silly reasons we’lll get to and then the 87 ducktales comic dime after dime which features Lena’s predecessor Minima. 

Later Today: Close Enough Season 2 is here! I”m going to talk about it! Exclimation Points! 

If you liked this review feel free to follow for more. And if you have an episode of Ducktales or another animated show you’d like me to cover just hit me up via my asks or direct messages on here and comission it. And if you’d rather just support me on a monthly basis, head over to my patreon. THE LINK IS RIGHT HERE.  Even a buck a month would help and the more of you that donate the closer we get to my Duckcentric stretch goals. The current closest ones are 15, which would lead to reviews of The Goofy Movies and Treasure of the Lost Lamp, and 20 which would lead both to a review of the Super Ducktales mini series, and monthly darkwing duck reviews! So if you like me talking about ducks and want to bolt some duck reviews to the schedule, even a dollar a month would inch me closer to that goal. Eveyr bit helps. But money or not, it’s been a pleasure and i’ll see you at the next rainbow. 

[ilguna]

Tacenda - Chapter Fourteen (f.o)

Summary: you’ll never truly be free from the Capitol.

Word Count; 3.5k

Warnings; swearing

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

You sit on the edge of Finnick’s bed, watching as he plays around with a rope. He’ll untie it and retie it into knots to keep himself entertained. Here, in District Thirteen, it feels like almost nothing happens. Especially when you’ve been sitting in a bed for a while.

You had thrown a whole bitching fit when they tried to take Finnick away from you. Put you in a different room away from where he was. You told them that they couldn’t do that, and made sure that the message was very thorough. You respect, and you’re very thankful for them saving you from the arena, but Finnick is all you have right now.

You don’t have your two brothers, you don’t have your sister. Finnick is your only lifeline right now, as you think about the endless possibilities that could be going on with your family. Because Snow had taken one nice stop in District Four and with one foul scoop, took your siblings and Annie right the fuck out of there.

You have no clue what’s happening to them right now.

You told the doctors that you wouldn’t be difficult if they at least accepted your plans. That you want to be put in the same room as Finnick, and you don’t want to be hooked up to any machines if it’s possible. It’s not like you’re dying, and there’s nothing inside of you right now that would hinder your abilities to do anything.

You have a few cuts here and there on your body from running through the jungle, and from tripping and accidentally cutting yourself and so on. But those aren’t important. You understand that they want to double check on your body because of the poisonous white fog you had encountered.

As far as you’re concerned, though. If it isn’t broken, don’t try and fix it. You’re running just fine. You can breathe, your heart still pumps, and you’re taking down food like a champ. So far, you body hasn’t even shown a hint of trying to end itself, and that’s why you think the doctors shouldn’t try and experiment, unless they know that they’re doing.

Because all it would take is one damn screw up. A little experiment of seeing if they can draw it out of your bodies and all they do is end up making it worse. Your liver can handle it, if it’s handled all the other shit that you’ve put in your body, then you’ll be fine. And it’s not like you guys hadn’t gone ahead and washed it off when you could.

Regardless, you promised to try your best and be cooperative as long as you got what you wanted, in a sense. So you took the cream that they wanted you to spread on the areas that had been affected by the fog, and moved right along. They had decided to bring you to him, since he wasn’t resisting treatment.

You twist your wedding ring, trying to keep your hands from shaking.

“Finnick.”

You look over to where the voice had come, and there stands Katniss. She had to have just woken up, because you haven’t heard a word come from her room, which is literally next door. She looks angry, and she alternates between glaring at you, and Finnick.

It’s quiet between you three for a moment, before Finnick answers, “I wanted to go back for Peeta, and Johanna. But I–I couldn’t move.”

You keep quiet, staring at the floor slightly. There wasn’t much you could do in that situation either. You were just barely able to drag yourself onto Finnick. Then again, she could always be mad about what came after. When she had woken up inside of the hovercraft and tried to stab Haymitch with a needle.

She has all the right to be angry. You guys more or less directly defied what she had wanted, knowingly. She wanted Peeta to be saved, she wanted him to be the one that came out of the arena alive. Not her. Haymitch had told you all of this, which is also a  good reason why you couldn’t let her in on the plan. Because it involved getting her out first.

“They have (Y/n)’s family too,” Finnick says, as if that helps. As if it’s supposed to make her feel better about her situation. So the both of you can suffer together, “They took them, along with Annie. They’re uh–they’re in the Capitol.”

You look up to Katniss now, to see how much her face has changed. There’s tears in her eyes, and you laugh, turning to look away from her. You’ve cried your tears already, you just want it to all be fake by now. One big dream and at any moment, someone is going to rock you awake.

Just like at the beach. Just like how Finnick had shook you awake. You want it to be exactly like that.

You wonder if you are stuck in a dream right now. Or maybe you’re dead, and this is your own personal hell. Knowing that your family is stuck in the captivity of the Capitol, with the full knowledge of the fact that Snow will go great lengths to make sure that you’re in pain. He’s going to do what he wants to your family, and he’ll do it because he has no repercussions.

Snow got Finnick’s family ten years ago. You suppose it’s your turn to suffer in the same way. After speaking out against Snow like that during your interview. After actively participating in the rebellion. This is going to be his way of getting you back.

You reach up, wiping your eyes with the heel of your hand. A laugh bubbles out of you, as you look at the ceiling.

“(Y/n)?” Finnick asks.

You laugh a little harder, shaking your head as you look to Katniss, and then Finnick.

“I thought I was untouchable.” you press your lips together, and then look down at your wedding ring, “I thought I couldn’t be affected, because it wasn’t me who was going to be the leader of the rebellion. I should have known.” you look at Katniss, “I’m really sorry, Katniss.”

A nurse comes down the hall, catching Katniss standing there. They move her back to her room, and it’s just you and Finnick in the room, back in silence.

“They’re not going to hurt them, (Y/n).” Finnick says quietly, “And you don’t need to be thinking like that.”

“Finnick, Snow went out of his way to go to District Four and get Annie and my family,” you shake your head, looking at him, “You’re being absolutely ridiculous if you think for one single second that he’s not going to do something.”

“Come here.” he says, his tone means it’s not up for debate. He sets down his rope, and holds out his hands for yours. You sit down, facing him and placing your hands in his, “Look at me.”

You’ve seen Finnick serious before, it’s not an outrageous thing. You’ve seen him determined, and angry, and fearless, and war-driven. You’ve seen him worried, and caring, and loving, and free. Throughout these years, you’ve seen everything you can come from him.

You look at Finnick, and you’re already getting emotional, because it hurts. And he sees this.

“Remember during the first games, and you kept telling yourself that you need to look up and not down?” he asks, “Because if you look down for too long, you’re going to think down? You’re going to think that none of it matters if you end up dying, anyway?”

You nod.

“This is the same thing.” Finnick says, “You thinking that they’re not going to make it out, is going to make something bad happen. You’re going to force those bad things to happen, instead of thinking up.”

Finnick’s right, as he normally is.

You laugh, looking down at the bed for a moment, “Thank you, Finnick.”

He yanks you towards him, letting go of your hands just in time so you face plant straight into his chest. He laughs at his antics, and wraps his arms around you for a hug. You do your best to hug him back.

“Tell me one of your favorite stories about them.” he demands.

You readjust yourself so you’re a little more comfortable. Even then, it doesn’t help, “Finn, you know all our stories.”

“Not all of them!” he says, “I didn’t know the one about the tree!”

“It was a useless story.” you giggle.

Finnick shrugs, “Then tell me the useless ones.”

You think for a moment, because all the stories to you, are just memories. None of them seem to stick out like a sore thumb. They all blend together, and you can’t even seem to find a funny one at first.

“Oh!” you say, “Let me sit up.”

“Got a good one?” he asks, letting you go.

You laugh, “Kinda. Did I ever tell you the first time I went to the square?”

Finnick begins giggling too, “No, but I have a feeling it’s a good one.”

You move Finnick’s left arm up, as you lay right next to him on the bed. He scoots over a little bit, and readjusts the pillow so you can be comfortable. His arm is wrapped around your shoulder, and he looks down at you, since you’re laying and he’s sitting up.

“It was before my mom had died.” you begin, “I was roughly twelve when Alyssum had been born, so I must have been ten or so. Reed was fifteen, Mox was fourteen, and I was the runt at the time. Obviously, that meant I would have to endure a ton of torment, no matter what.

“Don’t get me wrong, okay? I love my brothers as much as the next person, but what they did one day was cruel. The day I had first gone to the square, we had run out of the essentials. Like shampoo and soap and all of that. Of course, we could go to one of the local stores and try to buy what they have but–you know how the old lady was.”

Finnick laughs, “Cranky, and everything in there was overpriced.”

“Exactly!” You laugh, “And the soaps were specially scented, and that’s why she made them overpriced in the first place. The only times we would buy from her, was either for weddings or funerals. Which are the two most important times for a person. Not birth!

“Anyway, Reed and Mox knew full well that I had never been to the square before, and since I hit double-digits they thought that sending me by myself to get soaps was the perfect way to do it. Even if I had no idea on how to navigate, or bargain, or know what I was after specifically.

“Mom and dad didn’t even think to stop them, because they didn’t know!” you laugh, “Reed and Mox left the house with me to make it look like they were going to do it, because it was their job to do. But they handed me the money, told me the basics of what I was looking for, and left me on my own.

“And when I mean left–” you giggle, and Finnick is laughing too, “I mean, they fucking left. They somehow knew that the wrath of our mom was going to bite them in the ass so fucking hard, that they fled halfway across the district to be out of reach. And they didn’t come home until it was late at night. But that’s for later.

“My brothers were so fucking cruel, they had sent me there at one of the busiest times of the day, because there’s three. One, really early in the morning for the people that want to get the good stuff. The afternoon to two o’clock for those who have nothing better to do during those times of the day. And right after work for everyone has ended. Can you guess which one they chose?”

“After work?” Finnick is still laughing.

“The place was a shit show, Finnick!” you motion with your hands, “Mostly fishermen that stunk of rotting fish that had sat in the sun all day. My dad had plenty of friends back then, his buddies that he would go on the water with during the day, so a few of the guys had obviously recognized me. They didn’t say a word, though. Because they thought I was on a mission.

“I was clutching twenty dollars like it was the last thing I had to my name, wandering around the stalls. I nearly got stepped on almost a hundred times. Do you know how many times I heard ‘oops, didn’t see you there, sweetheart!’? Too many! And yet none of them had thought to ask me what I was looking for.

“I ended up finding the stall that I was looking for, and I waited in line patiently. There was constantly people weaving in and out and occasionally stepping in front of me because I was too timid to tell them otherwise. I’m sure had I told them that I had been standing there, waiting, for almost an hour, they would have moved, but I didn’t have the guts.

“We both know how big and burly the fishermen in District Four get.” you settle down again, “Somehow, by some fucking miracle, I had gotten to the front of the line with the twenty dollars. And with the little knowledge that I had, I told the lady that I needed shampoo and body soap enough for five people with the twenty dollars that I had.

“At first, she tried to treat me like a regular person, because she’s seen the faces. They come in and out, and it’s hard to keep track of people in four, because we replicate like bunnies.” Finnick is in stitches at that comment, “But then, after I had answered one of her questions, she ever so slowly looked at me.”

You do the same, looking at Finnick as slowly as you can, “She looked me up and down, and then said, ‘honey, you don’t belong here’. As if I didn’t fucking know!”

Finnick shushes you, but he’s laughing too hard.

“I told her my brothers sent me in, and she asked me where they were. I told her that they left, and if she wanted to find them for me, that she could be my fucking guest because I knew that they would be ‘out of sight, out of mind’ far. We went back and forth for a while.

“She asked me if I had gone to any other stalls, and I told her that I was only allowed to get shower stuff. She told me I was smart for not falling for any of the candy displays, but to be honest I was so fucking scared of getting stepped on for the thousandth time, that I hadn’t even realized that there were any.

“She gives almost double the amount that I should have been given, and leaves enough money for me to go and get candy from one of the stalls. She gave me a bag, and right on top, wrote a nice note for my mom and dad and she told me not to read it. I got to the candy table, told them that the lady had sent me and she said that she would pay for it.

“The guy gave it to me on the house, of course, and then I was on my way home. I enjoyed my chocolate, but still semi-oblivious to what had just happened, I tucked some of the sweets away for my brothers when I would see them at home.” you grab onto Finnick’s arm, shaking him, “Because it had been almost three fucking hours since I left the house, and I figured that they would be there already. But guess what?”

“They weren’t there.” Finnick answers.

“They weren’t there.” you repeat, “I gave my mom the note that the lady wrote, and I’ve never seen my mom so caring before. She made me, her and our dad, my favorite dinner, and made basically bones for my brothers for when they would come home. My mom told me she was proud of me, and that I did a very good job inside of the square, but not to do it for a very long time.

“She found the chocolate that I had been saving for my brothers, and cut up some even pieces that were absolutely way too small to enjoy and placed that with their dinners. I allowed them to have the rest, and then after that, it was a waiting game.

“I stayed up hours past my bedtime with them, as they waited in the living room with me. Dad was reading a book, I was coloring, and mom was coloring right alongside me. The thing is, about our old house, is that it was two stories. My bedroom, and their bedroom was upstairs, but my brothers slept downstairs. Making it more than easy to come in through the window for them.

“They must have waited a while, because when they did come out of the room–” You’re laughing now, shaking your head, “–they were dressed in pajamas, and clearly ready with a flashlight to come and raid the fridge. Did I mention that we were sitting in the dark, though?”

Finnick is chuckling again, “No you didn’t, I have a feeling where this is going, though.”

“They shone the flashlight right on us.” you tell him, “Forget deer caught in headlights, they were light a couple of truckers that had caught the fucking deer! Mom jumped up and off the floor in two seconds and she tackled the both of them to the floor before they could escape to their room.

“Dad lit a few candles, and just like that, they were in giant ass trouble. They got yelled at for nearly an hour for doing that to me. And to make all the matters worse, they had shoved the chocolate in their face. Not in a way of ‘she got it and you didn’t’ but more of ‘even after you did this to her, she wanted to give you something nice’.”

You snort, “I think that’s when Mox became so sensitive, it’s because of me. Because I was the runt of the group, and they teased me relentlessly, and treated me like ass and even though they did, I still would do stuff like that. Get them their favorite treats, buy expensive toys with my own allowance and all that.”

You sigh, placing your hands on your stomach as you stare at the ceiling, “Unfortunately, two years later I would be taking trips to the square more often. Dad had gotten busy, trying to take care of Alyssum and providing for us. The days that Reed and Mox didn’t have school, they would be on the boat trying to help.

“And then it would get so much worse when dad had died, and I was suddenly put in charge of the square and Alyssum at the same time, since they would be busy with the boat and all that. It’s how the people of the square learned me more, and learned to respect who I was and all of that.

“I was twelve or thirteen, still getting used to it all. And then two years later would come the games,” you look over to Finnick, “I think you remember how that goes.” he nods, “I didn’t really have a reason to go back to the square after that. Too much money to know what to do with, I could have bought everyone out every single day, but it just wasn’t fun, y’know?

“I could have bought anything I wanted. The expensive bread, and meat, and the fancy perfumed soaps and shampoos. There was no need for the cheap stuff in the square, but I ended up going there anyway. I would basically shower people with money and tell them to keep the change.”

It’s quiet in the room, “You’ve always been adaptive.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” you tell him, “It’s luck that I hadn’t been taken in the square that day. Or have had my money gouged off me.”

“Do you have any more worthless stories?” he asks, sinking down on the bed with you.

They’re not worthless to him, you realize. He thinks that they’re fun and interesting, and he wants you to keep going. You look over to Finnick with tears in your eyes, and a frog in your throat, “Hundreds.”

[70ships-moved]

untitled | honeymoon suite

very brief summary: patrick can’t sleep. his solution? interview your boyfriend.

pairing: malcolm (oc) / patrick (s/i) | honeymoon suite

words: 2088 (yikes!)

notes: this is the very first fic i wrote about malcolm and it turned a year old like two months ago (wow! i didn’t even know that until now), i didn’t want to change or edit too much because this holds a special place in my non existent heart :), written in the pov of my s/i (first person)

   Today I found a magazine with one of my idols (and celebrity crushes) on the cover in my nightstand drawer stashed away like a porno magazine. I remember the exact day I bought it too. I was at a bookstore and I saw it in the checkout area and the moment I saw who was on the cover, I made a mad dash for the checkout area. I did contemplate it though; the magazine was like twelve bucks which is stupid for something no one really buys but skims through and puts back. (When was the last time you bought a magazine? Man, wait until you hear about the internet.) But for who was on the cover, I was more than willing to pay the stupid twelve dollars.

    Like any child that picks up a book, I looked at the pictures and read some of the interview. My only takeaway from the interview was that he liked this Bolognese recipe he found- or made himself. I didn’t read it all. He puts bacon bits in it, and he says it’s even good when cold. I took this magazine with me to school almost every day. I really liked the guy, okay? I’d show it to my best and only friend at school at the time who hated my obsession with him. It was weird because she was one of those friends who would always get an ugly boyfriend and would force you to compliment him- no matter how ugly you thought he was but proceeded to get mad at you when you were being honest about his looks. I could handle her opinions about this man I claimed to love but have never met in my life.

    Four years later and I finally read the interview. It was a good read. The interviewer had nothing but nice things to say about him, mainly because he was and still is a sweetheart. And he only had nice things to say about the people he talked about. After reading the interview, I had something other than his good looks to admire. As far as I know, there isn’t a hateful bone in his body. When talking about his controversial relationship with his ex (long story short, the public wasn’t buying it), he said he only knew the girl he fell in love with and that’s saying something for a relationship that felt like it only lasted a week.

    It inspired me to conduct my own interview with someone who I love just as much, my partner Malcolm. I’ve interviewed other people before rather awkwardly but this is Malcolm we’re talking about. He has walls. We all do. He's a bit on the reserved side but with the time I’ve spent with him, I’ve seen these walls come down. These demolished walls are my favorite part of him. I even went out of the way and got a recording device from a buddy who works in film. I like being extra.  

    It’s about 2 am. There’s this thing my body does where I just have to wake up at this time. It’s every day too. When this happens, I wake Malcolm up. He encourages me to do so because it is incredibly difficult for me to go back to sleep once awake. Also, it’s kind of boring being awake all by yourself. In these hours, I learned how to call from a private number (*67, for prank call purposes), learned useless but interesting facts about space and how sex can be one hell of a sleeping pill. Tonight, I wanted to do something different.

    We’re sat in the kitchen area of the suite. The only thing separating us is the kitchen island. My recording device sits in the middle of us. Are you ready? “Mhm.” Great, I start with an over-the-top introduction of him. Ladies, guys, and people who don’t care what’s between their thighs, it’s two in the fucking morning and I can’t sleep but the man I’m sitting across from makes it all worth it. He’s got great hair and even great taste in men. He’s dating me! The man, the myth, future astronaut, and legend: Malcolm Hall! I feel like a podcast host. It’s a good feeling. “You’re so annoying.” That’s why he loves me.

    I have a list of questions I wrote down in less than five minutes. They’re nothing special and I want this to be fun and not so serious. This man constantly throws himself at his work- spending endless hours at a desk. Serious is his middle name. When he’s not in his office, he’s at the bar talking to you about a film he saw with a margarita in front of him or playing blackjack with you and your coworkers. Maybe he’s in suite 505 kicking it with yours truly, telling me about his day while I struggle to put a face mask on his moving face. How are you doing? He chuckles. That fucking chuckle. “Tired. But I’m with you, so I can’t complain. How are you?” I’m not so tired but I can’t complain. You’re here.

    I see you’re well-dressed for our interview. A bit too casual but you look good regardless. “Fuck off.” He says this in a whisper but it’s almost too quiet, it almost looks like he’s mouthing it. He’s in a bathrobe, his hair tossed from sleep; strands of it falling into his face. His face is resting in his palm as he looks at me with a tired smile, his eyes struggling to stay open. This is all unintentional, but I think this is extremely sexy of him. These small things have such a tremendous effect on me. They light the pit in my stomach and make me squirm in my seat a little. I’m messing. You look great as always. “You’re not looking too bad yourself.” I know. If I ever die in my sleep, I want to be in the best damn pair of silk pajamas there is.

    The coffee machine makes a noise indicating that it’s done brewing his cup of caffeine. That’s a nice coffee maker. When did you get it? I’m going off-script. “This thing?” He taps the machine like the hood of a car. “It came with the room. The interior design people take care of that. I just run the place, so I don’t really know when it got here. But I do know that the other machines were really fucking old.” Oh, interesting. “Not really. You know, I was expecting you to give me much harder questions.” Really? Well, it’s important to expect the unexpected. “Now you’re scaring me.” Good. Part of me can’t tell if he knows I’m teasing him.

    I’m not a coffee drinker like him but if it tasted as good as it smelt, then I could be. It’s a hazelnut blend. He mixes it with half-and-half and three scoops of sugar. His sips are slow and cautious. He seems to have bad luck with hot objects. He burnt his hand in a waffle iron one time and a dozen more times while preparing dinner. Maybe a hot object, liquid, or thing is the reason for the tape on his right hand. What happened to your hand? He looks up at me through his mug. “Masturbation incident.” By the way, I am madly in love with this man.

    Do you remember when we met? This is a weird transition because it was on my list of questions and my timing couldn’t be any worse considering moments ago, I asked a question and the answer I received was masturbation. The question makes him smile though. He either remembers or he’s pretending to remember. “Yeah. Of course I do.” He takes both my hands, gliding his thumbs across my knuckles. I want dates, times, names, everything. “I don’t remember the exact date, but I believe it was March.” He’s correct. “It was at the hair salon and I booked an appointment with you.” He’s correct again. I cut his hair for free now- well, unless he’s pissed me off. Then, I charge him ten bucks. Twenty if I’m really upset.

     Do you remember what time you showed up for your appointment? “Late. Very late.” He came in about two and a half hours late. I was pissed. “You were pissed.” He apologized profusely, and I still cut his hair. I remember it being soft and full. It still is. That's just one of the perks of having a hairstylist as a boyfriend. “I remember when you washed my hair. It’s my favorite part of you doing my hair.” I remember that too. The shampoo had a minty menthol smell. When it was on your head, it added a cooling factor and when you inhaled it, your lungs felt like winter. Basically, vapor rub for your hair.

    He got lost in the way I massaged his scalp, his eyes closed and smiling. I can still hear his Yorkshire accent telling me “Tha’ feels good.” After I washed it, I blew it out and started cutting it. That’s when I told him his hair was soft. “Looking back on it, you kept your hands in my hair way too long.” It’s part of the job. “That’s what they all say.” He takes a long sip from his mug, his eyes not leaving mine. “Your hair was...interesting as well.” Interesting, in the way he’s using it, is slang for saying you don’t know whether you should like something because you’ve never seen it before. Back in the day, I’d dye my hair all types of colors. Shit, I thought I looked good.  

    “The Smiths played on the stereo and your singing was terrible.” That’s a lie. I’m not Morrissey but I try to stay on key. “I’m kidding. But when you moved around the shop, you were always swaying to the music. You were fun to watch.” He winks at me and my face heats up at the memory. I danced like no one was watching. “We talked and talked and next thing I knew, I was asking you out on a date.” The first date was meant to be memorable but due to one incident, I feel like our date was memorable for the wrong reasons. “We went bowling. I’ll never forget it.” I know why. “You slipped and fell in the aisle.” I was so embarrassed. Is that the only thing you remember? Whenever we talk about it, you always bring it up. “That’s how I break the ice. ‘My boyfriend and I went bowling and he fell in the aisle. It was our first date. It's nice to meet you.'" 

    I’m a little tired now, my eyes a bit heavy and my voice softening. He answered the first date question I had prepared, so I decided to move on to my last one. Have you ever been in love? “Yes. I’d say so. Are you or have you ever been in love?” I’m supposed to be asking the questions, but I answer anyway. Yeah. I am right now. It’s a funny feeling because I’ve never been in love before. “Really? Who with?” You. My eyes can’t take the weight and close. “Good answer.” I can hear the smile in his voice.

    It’s a few minutes to 4 now. Our interview is done, and we’re ready for bed. We don’t go straight to sleep though. I listen to him talk some more with my head on his chest, his little chest hairs tickling my cheek. I begin to absently trace patterns across his chest. He says it tickles. His hand goes up my shirt, moving his hand up and down my back almost in a soothing rhythm. Sometimes, he stops, and I think he’s asleep, but I get the feeling that he realizes that I sensed he’s stopped and keeps going until I’m asleep. The hum of his chest when he speaks, combined with his hand and heartbeat is enough for me to call it a night.  

    His skin radiates a warmth that can’t be duplicated. His hands have a pattern like no other, each touch raising the hairs on my body. Despite it being hours since he’s showered, I can smell the scent of my cherry soap on him. This moment is something I never knew I needed and if it were to be taken away, I would be devastated. I close my eyes. I cannot think of any other place I’d rather be than here.

[demaury]

On Film (or Between The Sheets) -- high school AU

CHAPTER 1. Life hasn't been the smoothest for Lucas in the past couple of months, family wise. When his dad ends up leaving the city to work in Paris, he's ready to do absolutely anything to be able to stay in his current school and keep his life on tracks. Anything. Even becoming a film student and moving in dorms. (read on ao3)

MERCREDI 12:41

If you were to ask Lucas how he’s managed to find himself in a situation like this, he’d probably have to explain quite a few things, but it’s pretty much a given that one of those things would be that, originally, he doesn’t even care about cinema all that much.

Certainly not enough to pick it as his main option for the BAC, that’s for sure.

“Come on,” he hisses through gritted teeth as the camera sways dangerously back and forth on its tripod.

Why is this not working? Why does the fucking world hate him that much?

He swears he’s been there for ages, crouching down and trying so fucking desperately to get that stupid camera to somehow fixate itself on that fucking support. His eyes travel around helplessly, but everyone’s busy around him. To be fair, it’s not like he’s exactly counting on it. There’s a schedule on the wall behind him, whose sole purpose is to remind them that they need at least three more pairs of arms each to be able to function with the shitload of tasks they were assigned at the beginning of the week.

A group of three third-years are glued to a computer screen and obsessing over whatever video editing software they’re using, two first-years and Emma are in the middle of filming an interview in the couch area of the movie theater hall, and Arthur’s gone seeing whatever movie he’s been assigned to watch. He briefly considers running outside to beg Alex to come help him, but the guy’s smoking with a third-year friend and Lucas doesn’t think he’d survive the humiliation of being brushed off, so he just sucks it up and focuses back on that stupid tripod instead.

If his teacher is back before he’s set it up-

“What are you doing?”, asks a voice behind him, just after he may or may not have clinked the camera a little harshly out of spite.

Lucas’ head snaps to the side, cheeks burning from being caught red-handed. He’s fucking sweating when his eyes meet Eliott Demaury’s questioning ones.

Of all fucking people, he screams to himself.

“I can’t get it to… I don’t know, fixate itself,” he says weakly.

He doesn’t even know the proper words for all that shit, how come are people even expecting him to put it all up on his own?

Eliott cocks an eyebrow. “Well, I’d say that smashing it probably won’t solve it, but I’ve never tried that either,” he shrugs with a smirk.

Lucas gives him a look. “Fuck you,” he mumbles, half-astounded by his own bravery. He turns his back on him, since the last thing he needs is some third-year know-it-all to make fun of him, and refocus his attention back on the biggest problem at hand instead. “If Chassart is back before I’ve finished setting this up, he’s gonna fucking kill me.”

“C’mon, let me help,” Eliott says as he crouches down next to him.

He reaches out to grab the camera, and Lucas glances at him from the corner of his eye before letting him. It’s not like he’s gonna do any worse than nothing, Lucas admits begrudgingly. Eliott starts fumbling in his jeans pocket, holding the camera nonchalantly from his other hand, and eventually he exhumes a coin that was apparently lost in there. Lucas barely holds back a snide comment — really, who still uses coins these days? —, but every bit of sarcasm fades out instantly as Eliott flips the coin expertly between his fingers. Next thing Lucas knows, he’s using it as a makeshift screwdriver to loosen the screw at the top of the tripod. Just like that, with a few movements that go way too fast for him to process and a satisfying click that he was so desperately waiting for a minute ago, the camera is fixated infuriatingly fast on its support.

He wants to die. Or at least for the fucking ground to open under his feet and swallow him.

Eliott tucks the coin back in his pocket like it’s nothing. “There you go,” he says casually, nudging the camera in his direction.

If only it was arrogance or made-up casualness, but really, no matter that Lucas talked with him a total of one time throughout his life, he knows Eliott is just that guy. Nice. Helpful. Exasperatingly good — a fucking natural. No wonder why he’s become Chassart’s favorite in no time. He’d be mad, jealous even, if being in the man’s good books was on his to-do list, but as it is he just wants to make it through that stupid hellweek that is his first film festival ever in one piece, and fuck the rest. If they’re being mistreated this way for a second-class film festival, he can only imagine how shit goes down when the third-years go to Cannes.

Cheeks burning and jaws clenching, he mumbles a small ‘thankyou’.

Eliott shrugs. “Why didn’t you just ask them before?”, he says, pointing at the trio of third-years on their computer from his chin.

“Didn’t want to bother,” Lucas groans, dropping himself flat on the carpeted floor.

It feels like forever since he even sat down, courtesy of a particularly busy morning.

“So you were just gonna wait for Chassart to come and yell at you?”

“Something like that, I guess.”

Eliott snorts and sits down, mirroring Lucas’ position. “Aren’t you supposed to team up with a third-year at least?”

Lucas swallows down a mean comment. Grow a pair, Lucas, I’m not here to fucking babysit you, is the last thing Léonie, the bitchy-third-year he was assigned to work with for the week, told him before turning on her heels with an overly exasperated sigh.

“Léonie’s gone to watch one of the movies,” he simply says, settling for a neutral observation.

He’s seen him hanging out with her quite a few times since Eliott arrived last September, the last thing he wants is to piss him off by being a bitch about one of his friends — even if said friend is the actual bitch.

“She told you to fuck off?”

Lucas glances up at Eliott, meeting his disturbingly beautiful eyes. “Kind of, yeah,” he admits.

Eliott hums noncommittally. “Who else is in your group?”

“Emma,” he says, gesturing at the couches where his friend is busy holding the fishpole over the film director they’re interviewing, “but she’s replacing someone missing in another team, and, uh, Maria I think. She’s a first-year.”

Obviously he had tried to team up with Arthur, but Chassart had purposely put them in different groups to ‘avoid any incident’, as he had said — what an asshole, he could have said he just wanted to feed off Lucas’ struggles at this point. He doesn’t bother enquiring about Eliott’s. He knows that one of his classmates, Sarah, has been literally close to fainting when she found out she was in his group.

“You can join mine,” Eliott says casually after a second.

Lucas quirks a brow. “I’m not sure this is how that works.”

“Not my point,” he waves. “We can make a trade. No offense but I’m sure Léonie would be happy.”

Lucas flips him off, offended, and Eliott starts laughing — the sounds sends fucking butterflies in Lucas’ stomach. Before he can even say that Sarah would murder him with her bare hands for being kicked out of Eliott’s group, he’s already standing up in a jump and walking right to the white board where the schedule is written, slaloming his way between the group of third-years and their chairs occupying most of the space.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Lucas whisper-screams as he bolts up and follows suit, just when Eliott wipes Sarah’s name off the board. “Do you have a death wish or what?”

“Chassart likes me, he won’t say a thing,” Eliott shrugs, then he pauses halfway through wiping off Lucas’ name too and turns to him. “Unless you like being mistreated?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows.

“Are you fucking serious now?” Lucas huffs, another wave of laughter erupting from deep within Eliott’s chest. On the other side of the lobby, a flock of people is emerging from the depths of one of the dozen auditoriums, making his attention snap back to reality. Chances are that Chassart will be here in a matter of minutes, maybe seconds even. “Alright, but just move your ass already!”

Eliott grins, blinding, and wipes the few other mentions of Lucas on the schedule, while Lucas is busy fumbling on the table aligned against the wall to find the black pen they need. He manages to find it under a bunch of papers sitting there and to toss it in Eliott’s hands. He has to admit, Eliott’s recklessness forces the admiration. Chassart is a bit of a psycho, there’s no fucking way he’s getting away with it.

And yet. He keeps watching as Eliott is writing his name down, in small caps that he isn’t even remotely trying to make similar to their teacher’s messy handwriting, until it’s all done and Eliott closes the pen with a satisfying click of the cap.

“Lucas!”

They spin around in time to see their teacher walking inside their designated area of the lobby. “What are you doing here?” Chassart asks bluntly, ever so amiable. “And what’s that camera doing here? I told Léonie that the interview was delayed to this afternoon!”

Lucas’ stomach churns and he hates it. Fucking asshole, he thinks, but he doesn’t really know if it’s about Léonie or about Chassart.

“I took Lucas with me,” Eliott says, barely more serious than he was two minutes before — meanwhile, all the fucking alarms go off in Lucas’ head, as Chassart’s eyes dart onto Eliott. “I needed him for something, so I made a trade.”

There’s a one-second blank, and behind Chassart’s back, Lucas can see Arthur making a ‘what the fuck?’ face. I’m going to die, that’s what’s happening, he wants to say, and if telepathy really is working then maybe Arthur will be able to remember his last few words.

But to Lucas’ astonishment, Chassart seems to deflate.

“Really,” he says after a pause, but it doesn’t really sound like a question. He heaves a sigh. “Alright. Whatever, if that works best for you,” he groans with an eyeroll.

A first-year slides in next to them at this moment, and it’s a much-welcomed distraction that allows Lucas to start breathing again. Chassart looks at the kid, who blabbers a question, when something nudges Lucas’ arm. His eyes jump onto Eliott, who lets him know with a subtle movement of his chin that it’s fucking time to move.

“See?”, Eliott says to him once they’ve retreated a couple of meters away. “I told you it was going to be fine.”

“Tell that to my fucking heart,” Lucas mumbles grumpily.

MERCREDI 13:01

“Why did you pick cinema as your major now anyway?”

Lucas looks up from his kebab, halfway through making a fool of himself thanks to an uncooperative tomato. Eliott’s questioning eyes are on him, which would be fine if they weren’t so piercing and intimidating all at once that his skin literally prickles under them.

They are on their five-minute lunch break, but rather than running like madmen to the McDonald’s next door to wait in line desperately long for a mere box of chicken nuggets and a few cooling French fries, like they all did twice a day since the beginning of the week, Eliott insisted that they push their luck to the kebab place across from the crowded parking lot.

And, well, like most things with Eliott Demaury, apparently, it had all gone too fast for Lucas to even process. Before he even realized they were ordering food and sitting down to eat.

Just the two of them. In a particularly silent restaurant.

That too would be totally fine. In another universe. Where he doesn’t have to smear mayonnaise all over his face and end up with a mouthful of tomato and kebab meat when Eliott Demaury happens to be willing to make conversation.

He has to bite down onto the sliced vegetable to tear it into pieces and free himself from the embarrassment, which ends up feeling like the longest seconds of his life. “I wanted to stay in that school,” he says after hastily swallowing down. He reaches for a paper napkin to wipe his mouth clean. “My dad moved away and since it was no longer in my designated area, it was the only solution. That or European section, but I know basically three words in English and my grades aren’t good enough to get in there, so yeah,” he shrugs and spreads his hands, “here I am, I guess.”

Eliott’s brow furrows, and it makes Lucas swoon a little bit. That story isn’t even remotely interesting by any means. But somehow, there’s something in Eliott that makes it seem like it’s a big deal that deserves his undivided attention. He’s not even sure his dad gave him half this amount of attention when Lucas told him about his plans for the new school year.

“You literally went from S to L just to stay in that school?”, Eliott asks, looking surprised.

Lucas makes a face. “Yeah. Stupid uh? To be fair I was lame with science and physics. I only liked math.” He realizes something just as he’s picking up a French fry in his plate. “How do you even know I was a S student?”

Eliott takes a sip from his Coca Cola before answering with a grin. “Alex is pretty chatty at night. I guess that’s the only perk of being the new guy, everyone wants you to have the audio-detailed version of everything that went down, ever.”

The way he has to look at him, waggling his eyebrows once to mark his words, makes Lucas feel naked and exposed. How much did Alex tell him exactly? How much does Alex care about him anyway? They do hang out sometimes, and Alex has been dropping by every now and then in the dorm he shares with Arthur and Basile, but that’s mostly it. Ending up in a street fight with him doesn’t magically forge lifelong ties, so he does wonder. It’s always been a strange feeling to think that people might care about him, especially when it’s someone he barely knows. The most he’s talked with Eliott until today has been a quick ‘hi’ at some point last September — a little breathy on Lucas’ part, actually. Really, not his finest moment. But if anything, he blamed it (and still does, and will probably keep blaming it until his dying breath) on the fact that he hadn’t expected the new third-year to look like that. If he had gotten the memo, then maybe he’d have reacted otherwise and not looked like he had been struck by lightning.

“What about you?”, he says, trying to sound casual as he grabs a few fries. There’s the nagging reminder, at the back of his head, that they’re supposed to hurry the fuck up if they want to make it back in time for the movie, but it’s not fair that is only shot at talking with Eliott should be reduced to nothing just because. “Why did you switch schools just before the BAC?”

He’s heard stories, or rather theories, about why he transferred, but if anything they all seem pretty stupid and rarely seem to work with reality. Last time he heard about it, he was chilling with the drama kids in their assigned work room at school between two periods, and Daphné said, with a trembling voice, that he had gotten involved with shady kids at his former school, including some who had a record already. He could not really tell if it was supposed to be a bad thing or not in Daphné’s books, given her excitement over sharing that particular rumor.

Eliott doesn’t really acknowledge that he’s talked for a good minute, looking too absorbed in the content of his plate to bother, and Lucas wonders briefly if he should repeat himself or not.

After an agonizing silence, Eliott finally glances up, looking awfully serious. “My parents sent me away from Paris because I helped my twin sister run away with her boyfriend,” he says, and Lucas blinks slowly, trying to keep his eyebrows from jumping up. “They didn’t approve of their relationship, and we’re like, related somehow. A whole mess.”

For a moment Lucas doesn’t say anything and simply stares, silently, as Eliott takes a sip from his drink.

“Did you really just give me the shitty plot of Riverdale?”, Lucas deadpans. A wide grin blooms on Eliott’s face, eyes crinkling and dimples popping out, and Lucas has no other option but to huff a laugh that sounds fonder than expected. “You’re such an ass.”

“But the fact that you’re finding it shitty makes me love you even more,” Eliott shrugs, crumpling a paper napkin between his hands.

He’s too busy checking the time on his phone to notice the way Lucas nearly chokes on his food — which, honestly, might be best for everyone.

MECREDI 17:48

The afternoon rolls around quickly, most of it being taken over by the interview Eliott is busy directing. At least the director is a nice guy in his forties who’s mostly grateful to have been invited at all, so it makes everyone relax a little — everyone except Eliott, whose level of concentration probably amounts that of a mine-clearer. Lucas, for his part, is mostly busy stealing glances at him, but it’s not like his job is a difficult one. Eliott has put him behind the monitor, so the majority of his task is just sitting on a chair behind the screen and making sure the fishpole doesn’t just appear at the top — The place where you’ll do the least amount of damage, Eliott has said, grinning, and he was rewarded by a kick of Lucas’ elbow in the stomach.

It should probably have bothered him, to be just an obstacle or something, but he can’t decently argue with Eliott’s reasoning, mostly because he’s right. He knows next to nothing about literally anything and he’d rather sit back and do nothing than to make Eliott mad at him.

He blames it on team work, that relevance that Eliott suddenly acquired in his life since this morning.

It’s because they’re working together and because Eliott Demaury is so much more used to all of this that suddenly the guy he’s been talking to only once prior to this day turns into the person he’s looking for in a crowd. It’s got nothing to do with his good looks.

“The movie’s about to start,” Arthur says after checking the schedule. “We should go now.”

Thanks to Chassart’s careful planning, it’s the most he’s heard from his friend since they left school after breakfast this morning.

Lucas doesn’t mean to do it, but while he hums in response, his body shifts towards where Eliott is standing. He’s chatting with Alex, retrieving his jacket from the back of his chair, and soon they’re already walking away to cross the lobby.

He blames the way his heart clenches on the fact that Alex could have told him to join too.

He knows Alex.

Alex knows him — well enough, apparently, to tell stuff about him to the new guy. It was only the least he could do, the polite thing to do. But he doesn’t, and Lucas simply stares as Eliott and Alex join two or three more of their classmates, before the group disappears in the depths of carpeted halls.

Yeah. It’s all because of Alex, he decides as he finally follows Arthur through the lobby.

[ficstogo]

Sorry II

Pairing: The Riddler x Reader

Word Count: 1,965

Summary: This is an alternate ending that was requested by someone on Wattpad.

Warnings: Near death

Original Ending

With all the anger inside him boiling up, cane still in his hands he turned around abruptly and swung his dominant arm with all the force he had and all the anger in that one swing, it came to a full stop against a head that had no business with that metal cane. The cane with red on it. Everything went unnoticed to Edward until a sudden thud broke the silence that he needed. The fogginess that filled his mind cleared up a bit slowly. Realizing that there was nothing in front of him his eyes slowly looked to the one direction that he hoped nothing would be there. They met. Cold, wide, bloodshot, blue eyes met red.

“Y/N…Y/N.” he said calmly. “Y/N wake up… Stop that. Wake up Y/N. That’s not funny.”

“…”

“I’m being serious Y/N.” he said as if calling out a child who hasn’t been following directions. “You’re getting on my nerves with this.”

“…”

“…”

Clank. The metal cane took rest on the floor that contained an empty vessel. He dropped to his knees looking down. What had he done? His hand went towards yours touching the warm flesh sliding up to your arms and finally resting your head on his lap. His hands rested on your cheeks with his thumbs rubbing the soft skin he loved. In that moment, he had realized that all that time that he had been with you, there was no notable memory to be fond over, especially from your end, he can believe. But if he ever did think back, it would always lead to you, your beauty, your faithfulness, the things you do for him, the fact that you put up with him at all. No matter how cliche it sounded, in this dark line of work, you were the light that keeps him as sane as he is.

As he leaned down to kiss your face, his left hand had slid down to your neck. His concern to give you all the affection that you weren’t awake to enjoy had subsided when he realized what was going on underneath his thumb. It was faint, yet it kept pulsing to where it was noticed.

A sure sign of life.

A sure sign that you would live on.

He could feel his heart beating as well as the adrenaline starting to kick in. Lifting you off the dirty cold floor, he headed out the door and straight to the nearest facility that would ensure that your life would be saved. How pathetic of him to immediately claim defeat, that you had died without a fighting chance. If the argument from earlier didn’t show how robust you are to argue with a dangerous criminal that has killed before, he didn’t know what else would show.

.~.~.~.~.~.

Through the doors he ran, where nurses and doctors walked right past as well as patients being scattered across Gotham General while he still held your being in his arms. Never did he thought that the reason for him to be in the emergency room would be for somebody else and not for his own devious purposes. Never did he thought that he would do anything for somebody that he cares for. In fact, never did he thought in all his life that he would actually care for someone other than himself. Bad experiences had he learned about love. His family being the root of all things.

“H-Help!” His voice…Oh God…It sounded so weak. He never heard his voice sound so weak and scared. The only time he’s ever heard it be that way was whenever he was with his father. But that was so long ago….

“Help! Please!” His pleas were answered as a group of medical professionals swarmed him, placing your body on stretcher and heading to the nearest room in hopes of saving your life. Rushing along with them, Edward explained as to what had occurred earlier in the evening as his eyes were focused on your unconscious self. He felt a hand press against his chest stopping him from his journey to recovery with you. His tall figure looked down at the small nurse in front of him as his eyebrows furrowed into a desperate look of confusion.

“Excuse me, I have to be with her.”

“I’m sorry sir, but I can’t allow you to go any further.”

“Maybe your feeble mind didn’t comprehend as to what I just said but I assure you that my presence is most definitely needed. Now unless you want me to put you in a death trap, I suggest you let me go.” With that, he pushed past the nurse as her face grew with shock. Too determine to be by your side, Edward didn’t realized that what he said would blow his low profile that he had since he broke out of Arkham.

The nurse shaking out of her shock, ran towards the front desk grabbing the phone out of one of the receptionist’s hand announcing overhead “Code Blue! We are in a Code Blue! I need all security at the east entrance! I repeat! I need all security at the east entrance!” He done it now. Looking around he saw that everyone was in a panic as the noise level had rose with the sound of rushing foot steps, the barks of orders from doctors and nurses, and questions from concerned patients. Edward then noticed men in uniforms come toward to where he had entered with the nurse now pointing to his directions. If only he had his muscle here. Query and Echo would have easily taken this baboons down.

In this entire madness, Edward made a run for it as security finally realized what was happening. Making erratic lefts and rights, Edward pushed through all the civilians that were in his way while pushing them and other objects into security to make his escape. Far ahead he turned into an empty hall where the patients were cleared from their rooms. With what little time he had until security can catch up, Edward tried one of the doors only to land himself inside one of the janitorial closets. Lucky him. Trying hard to steady his panting breath, he kept quiet as he heard them run toward his direction. Morons they all are.

“Spread out! We can’t lose him!” hearing them disperse, Edward waited to catch his breath and wipe the sweat that had produced over his brow. Physical activity was not his forte. None of this would be happening if he hadn’t been such a condescending brat…

Turning the handle slowly, Edward peeked out to see if anyone was left hanging around. With everything cleared, he made a quick yet quiet dash out. Making his way down to another hallway, he stopped in front of map looking for the nearest exit out of this circus. Freedom was right done the hall, and lord did he ran like hell right through it setting off the alarm.

.~.~.~.~.~.

It was all over the news that night like anything that would involve a rouge. Everything was in chaos, something the Joker would have liked. Everyone was warned to keep a look out for The Riddler and call GCPD if they knew or saw anything. What puzzled them was why The Riddler, who had killed several people before without care or hesitation, bothered to bring someone to Gotham General. It was a mystery all on its own, one that The Batman would like to figure out as he interviewed the nurse that started the whole fiasco. She was frightened at first, seeing the tall, dark figure loomed over her, only to be assured by Commissioner Gordon that all he wanted was answers and with the information she provided for him, Batman was one step closer to figuring out where The Riddler is.

.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Changing out of his usual green and purple attire, Edward decided to fit himself into old raggedy sweater and a pair of slacks as to not blow his cover once more. She must be worried, having been there without a clue as to what had gone on. In a dark coat, Edward made his way to Gotham General with some tools to bypass security. With him now being the most sought out rogue out of all the others, he made to sure to get all his information and think ahead of this current spell he was in, although, Gotham General isn’t the most difficult of places to enter.

It was late when he entered through the exit door that was nearest to your room, already knowing that you would either be in a coma or be asleep, he’d take the latter when seeing you. Entering the dark room, Edward went forward and turned on one of the lamps provided. They gave her a decent room. At least she isn’t sharing it with anyone. I’ll have to remember to ask them to put her somewhere better.

There you were. Eyes closed, paler than before. Probably from the blood loss. There goes his stomach, flipping and ready to upheave whatever food that he ate. Did I even eat today? He took a seat on your bed, feeling the regret wash over him even stronger than the nights previous whenever he sat and stared at the wall with nothing but his thoughts. He reached for your hand, as nervous as the first time that he reached for it. Against his palm did this time he felt warmth and with that he released the breath he was holding. He didn’t know why he expected you to be cold, maybe because he was expecting the worst in things like he usually does.

“You can come on out. I knew you would be there waiting for me.” Even with all the regret and crippling sadness, his soft yet confident voice did not waver. He refused to show Batman that side of him. Without looking back to him, Edward kept his focus on you, rubbing his thumb against your soft hand asking “What’s her diagnosis?”

In a small moment of silence, he finally responded to the question that Edward already knew the answer to. “She’s suffered a brain hemorrhage. Waited any longer and she would have died. Prognosis states that she might make a full recovery in months time.”

Even in the light of such news, it still didn’t lift any weight off off his mind nor his heart. In the end, it was all his fault and nothing would change that.

“Who is she Edward?”

He thought as his mind started to mold an answer. You were his. You were his treasure, his love, his equal. “She’s just a girl I know.” That was all he can say. He leaned forward and hesitantly pressed his chapped lips on your forehead. Standing up and looking down at your form, he took a step back to enter the dark with the creature who started this whole mess to begin with.

“Don’t you want to say a few things?” There was plenty to say. So much that it would take an eternity. But was the point? You wouldn’t be awake to witness his deep remorse and see the millions of apologies he would drool all over in order for you to know how much he deeply cared. No, that can wait until he can get his hands on pen and paper, or no, he can wait until he sees you again, him out of Arkham and you fully awake and conscious.  

“No. There’s nothing to say.”

As the light shone on you, Edward was left in the dark with The Bat ready to take him back to the hell hole that is Arkham.

And in all this dreadful darkness, you were the light that showed the way.

[intergalacticsuperstar]

tea time

Okay I’m going to spill the tea a little here. I would like to start off with saying that I am a fan of Tom Holland. I’m also 18, about to dive into college, the work field, and I’m trying to maintain professionalism on my other social accounts. Given that, I’m a closet fan girl who only posts on Tumblr.

And thank god.

Just because I only post on Tumblr, doesn’t mean I don’t see the craziness that is the other platforms (Instagram and Twitter). I don’t know what it is... maybe I just follow the right people on tumblr or maybe just all of the people I’m going to be generalizing just flock to Instagram and Twitter.

Last note before I get started. I know probably not alllll people on Insta and Twitter are crazy Tomdaya stans, but it’s the only place I see it. And quite frankly, that’s disturbing considering those are the platforms Tom, Zendaya, and their families would be looking at. Not Tumblr.

Now, to begin...

Yesterday this video was released. Most of us have already seen it already, but just Incase you haven’t here’s a quick recap:

The interviewer asks Tom and Zendaya about what it’s like for people to want their relationship to be real in real life.

Tom says it’s annoying.

Zendaya agreed with Tom but she more is like “aye it’s gonna happen, I try not to worry about it”

Now today, I’m on Instagram on the explore page and I see a story of some Zendaya account. It’s a note, so interested what it says, I click on it. Low and behold, it’s about Tomdaya.

Because like everything on Instagram is about Tomdaya.

So this person has multiple screenshots of notes on their story detailing about how they are all upset about this video.

The first one I see is this:

Alright so let’s break this down yeah. (Under the cut because this is getting long)

Okay, well firstly, if you have to block Z from seeing your opinion about something, that should be immediate red flags.

Now, they are getting confusing. So you know that it’s not your business but you still are commenting on this and continue to force their relationship? It’s a slap in the face to you? No offense, but you kind of put yourself in this position. Lastly, I love that it’s “they have a right to whatever opinion they do because their friendship/relationship.”

What?

What?

What?

It’s not an “opinion” Tom and Z have that may be different than yours. What they say is what you get. If someone says “I’m not in a relationship with X person.” You don’t get to reply with “Hm, well in my opinion you are.”

Would you do that to people you know in real life? No? Okay, then don’t do it to Tom and Z.

Moving on...

Okay, not bad. You see that you are making them uncomfortable, and now you are going to stop. Good.

Except... wait for it.

Okay. So, you are only mad because Tom called it “annoying.” Hm... maybe should that, I don’t know, maybe, possibly, BE A SIGN THAT IT’S ANNOYING?!

“Especially considering all we deal with when it comes to the Antis”

The antis? This isn’t Peter Parker and MJ. This isn’t a fandom. There should be no “antis” because they are not characters. They are human beings.

BUT THEN

WHAT

ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?!?

Tom and Zendaya: We are not dating

This person: Of course, they’re still dating.

WHAT?

Okay listen, if you want think they’d be cute together, cool. I get that. There’s a lot of public figures where I think, oh hey, these two people have really good chemistry. I think they would be a good couple. But unless I know FOR SURE they are dating.... I would never just be like “oh lol they are just lying nah they dating” like what?

Shall we continue?

Yes? Okay.

So, the next story on this person’s account was a screenshot from someone else’s account.

Here it is:

So I start reading this going through different emotions.

Point 1: the first part of the sentence was good, but the second part not so much. Yes keep it to yourself, but like??? Don’t post at all. Also, you guys call yourselves “crackies”? Red flag.

Point 2: You are probably right. Also probably because accounts like yours and the one before post it all over social media so not only does he have to deal with it during press, but also all the time online. Good job :)

Point 3: HOW CAN YOU DO THAT. HOW CAN YOU SAY THEY ARE STILL DATING WITHOUT ANY REMORSE. LIKE WHAT.

idek know what to think. So I click on this new users profile.

It gets worse. Their story has more about this situation.

First there’s this:

Hm, interesting. You’ve “never gotten the impression that the shipping annoys them THAT much.”

Well, what about all of the other times they denied their relationship???

“Especially as we pretty much all know that they are together”

Did you... did you ever consider... that maybe... THEY ARENT TOGETHER? BECAUSE THATS WHAT THEY SAID?

“My impression has always been that they don’t care if their fans know but they hate the media.”

Um what no. Fans aren’t entitled to “know” ANYTHING. Literally nothing. And since Tom and Z have never confirmed that they are together, you don’t “know” shit.

Then there’s this:

So, let me get this straight, you think Tom was “genuinely pissed” but that doesn’t make you not believe in Tomdaya at all? Really? For real?

This is really funny now because now they are the victim. Just because you’ve been “noticed” by Tom, Z, or their friends or family doesn’t validate anything. Plus I looked through their “notices” highlight and all the posts that were getting noticed were not about Tom and Z dating lol. 

“What Tom said today and especially Jacob just flat out made us feel like we are the bad guys- and we’re not.”

Literally again, if the PEOPLE YOU ARE LITERALLY SHIPPING AND THEIR FRIENDS ARE CALLING YOU OUT ON THIS CRAP THEN YOU LITERALLY ARE THE BAD GUYS. Also, that statement totally contradicts the last one because despite your “notices” they still make public statements that they don’t like it.

Then there’s this. Like wtf?? You just said your “faves” were lying. Like maybe... you could... just back off and believe them? Strange concept I know. Also, pretty sure they were laughing because Tomdaya stans are literally crazies.

They also posted this and like??? what. Tom is “extra” because he’s trying to clear out rumors that probably damage his friendship with Z? Like this has happened with so many other celebs before. The fact that this person can just so blatantly ignore what Tom says, and say that he’s lying is mind boggling.

Lastly, I went back to the original user and this is what they had on their story:

So now, they just back tracked on literally everything they said before. It doesn’t matter what Tom or Z says, they have a fan page and they are going to post what they want even if Tom finds it annoying. Such great fans :))

Just because Z follows you, doesn’t mean anything.

I can’t. I literally can’t.

I would just like to add that the first user has 28 Thousand Followers and the second user has 55 Thousand followers. Which is just... that many people agree with what they’re posting. That’s wild to me.

Okay, I’m gonna wrap this up because this is long and I have work to do, but listen. When it comes down to it, just because two actors (human beings) are in a movie together where their characters have a romantic interest, DOES NOT MEAN YOU GET TO SHIP THE ACTORS. Think they’d be cute? Great. Keep that to yourself. It’s none of your business. The fact that some people can just refuse to listen to the very people they pretend to “love” is very very telling. Especially when those two actors/human beings have actually said that they find the shipping behavior “annoying” or are uncomfortable or have publicly announced that they are just friends.

End rant. Please feel free to add or comment

[quirkcounselor-asuka]

[Case number: OP-0166255-550 Examination recording number: N/A Physician/Psychiatrist: Asuka, Ayumu Recording date: Thursday, March 19th Recording time: 1:30 pm] @v-overhaul

[Morning hits and sunlight smacks hard against his blood-shot eyes, illuminating just how much of a headache Chisaki has from the drugs injected into him the night before. He wakes up uncomfortable, as usual. No memories of the previous evening immediately come to mind - things tend to blur together when one is forcibly given painkillers and walked between the same two rooms every day. Chisaki wishes the sunlight would fade, it’s painful where it hits his eyes and he’s already had enough of it. When they first brought him here he used to cherish the few rays that filtered in through the tiny, barred window, but now they’re just like everything else in this place. They hurt.

Chisaki wriggles into a sitting position with a groan. Everything is so much harder without his arms. The bastards seeing to him said there would be the chance of prosthetics but he's seen no such proof of that yet. He grits his teeth as he swings his legs off the bed. It feels awful to be so weak, so pitiful. He's not been at the mercy of another since her and he swore it would never happen again.

But then-

That exceptional boy-hero. Eri. The League of Villains and their demented leader-

Kai swallows. Panic creeps in so easily these days. Even the thought of Shi- of that man turn his stomach. He tries not to think of him as he sits and waits for whatever will be thrown at him today.]

[Eventually... the door starts to unlock. It's a deep and unsettling sound in the cell, loud and harsh clicks and a quieter whirling as the mechanisms that kept Chisaki locked inside were undone, one by one. After the very last padlock was done, there was a rush of movement as two guards suddenly burst into the room, faces shadowed and glaring.

They storm towards the bed, each grabbing hold of him, vicelike grips digging first around what's left of his arm, and then into his shoulder. Then they each take a turn, one striking him hard in the gut with a balled fist and then the other, smirking and laughing as they did. Then, once they were finally satisfied with this brief and cruel show of violence, they haul the man up like he's nothing, so roughly it's obvious they want him to know he's nothing, and they drag him out without a word or a care.

Outside the room, two more guards, both holding guns and sneering at the sight of him. With their prisoner in tow, they lead him down the quiet hall, occasionally exchanging words or tossing a casual insult. They bring him down a few floors, and then into a white room, a wide one with a door on either side and a massive pane of glass cutting the room in half. This is when Chisaki is tossed to the floor and the door is slammed shut behind him.

He's left alone for a moment.

Then, on the other side of the glass, the adjacent door is opened. A figure steps inside, smiling politely as they haul in a chair and sit down as close to the glass as possible, looking at him in curiosity before brightening up all the more.]

AYUMU: Hello Chisaki-san...! [It's brutal, but at least it's quick. There are some guards, those who proclaim they 'ain't none too fond of people who pick on little kids', who like to take their time in beating the shit out of him. Some of them spit on him. He's learned to stop fighting back, they only continue if he lashes out. Chisaki barely has time to bring air back into his winded body before he's tossed into the interview room like a sack of shit and drops heavily to the floor.

With no arms to catch his fall, his shoulder takes the brunt. Chisaki groans under his breath and rolls onto his back, squinting at the bright lights dotted along the ceiling. At least he's not in the lab today. They'll just be poking around in his head, rather than his flesh, and he's somewhat relieved.

When he hears someone call his name, he sits up and turns his head to look at them. Immediately, his face screws up with disgust. Right. This idiot.

He crosses his legs and pointedly stares at the floor, silent.] [Asuka only pouts at him when their greeting isn't returned. It rarely ever is, but they can't help but hope that one day...

Ah, well.]

AYUMU: How are you today, Chisaki-san? You're looking much better today! [they say, though they always seem to be saying that. In truth, Chisaki always wears some sort of damage on him, always decorated in bruises and healing cuts. It's a tragic sight, how clearly tortured the man is.] 

AYUMU: Are you ready to begin or would you like a moment?

[Chisaki glares at them. He stays silent.] [They pout. So difficult.]

AYUMU: ... Okay, we can take a moment. I understand this week has been really hard... It must be nice to get a moment of peace with a friend, right? So we can stay like this for a bit.

[They make a show of getting comfortable in their chair, displaying the actions in the same way one would mime for a young child. Then they flash another smile.]

AYUMU: I can get you a chair if you ask for one, too. I'm sure the floor is uncomfortable? [It's a feeble attempt to get on his good side. Chisaki doesn't have a fucking good side.]

CHISAKI: A 'friend'. [They smile sheepishly.] 

AYUMU: Yes? [Chisaki scoffs and wrinkles his nose. Pathetic. But, he might as well drag this conversation out for as long as possible, he's only got his cell and a potential beating to get back to.]

CHISAKI: Lucky me. The floor is fine.

[He rolls his bruised shoulder around in the socket, wincing at the pain that radiates across his back. That'll leave a lovely bruise, one more for the collection.]

CHISAKI: What do you want? [Their smile turns bright as he responds. They knew that little friendly comment would get to him in one way or another... If only it didn't take such a thing to get him talking.]

AYUMU: I just want to check up on you, Chisaki-san. Make sure you're okay. Know how you're feeling. Same as ever, you know? I worry. 

[They watch him carefully, expression turning more serious.] 

AYUMU: You're hurting...

CHISAKI: No shit. If you're that concerned then have a talk with your attack dogs.

[Chisaki narrows his eyes at Asuka. They're dedicated to playing good cop, huh? Presumably they want something from him. They're only ever nice to him when they want something. He feels a lump rise in his throat and the seeds of panic take root in the pit of his stomach.]

CHISAKI: I feel like shit. What do you expect? 

[Chisaki speaks very matter of factly. Bored. Like he's reading a shopping list.] 

CHISAKI: Are you going to kill me soon? Dragging this out is so dull. AYUMU: Kill you...?

[It's then that they slowly pull free a small pad of paper from their jacket, withdrawing a pen next. They open to a new page and jot down Chisaki's name and the date before they continue.]

AYUMU: Why ever would you think we would kill you...? [Chisaki huffs and lays back flat on the floor. He starts idly doing leg raises as he speaks. It's best to keep fit, if there's even the slightest chance of escape then he'll need to be in good enough health to run.]

CHISAKI: Because I'm a waste of resources, time and money. It seems more sensible to clean up a mistake. Bleach it out of existence.

[He turns his head to look at Asuka and narrows his eyes.]

CHISAKI: Unless you want something from me, that is. I presume that's the case, but I'm struggling to figure out what it is. [Asuka tries to keep a small laugh at bay, but it's hard to keep themselves from giggling just a little. It's almost adorable, the way he huffs to himself.]

AYUMU: Do you consider every human life that isn't dedicated to some cause or another a waste of resources? Because if so, that's very reductive...

[They jot that down as well. That clear disregard for others, the... quite plainly, fascinating way that his own wellbeing is just as easily shed as the people he encounters. The fact that he lacks so much empathy that he struggles to understand that someone could simply sympathize wth him, just for existing...]

AYUMU: Would it make you happier if I wanted something more? CHISAKI: 'Happier'? 

[Chisaki sneers and sets his leg back on the floor.] 

CHISAKI: The only things that you could do that would make me happy would be to let me go or take me out back and shoot me between the eyes.

[This existence is tantamount to torture for him. Purposeless, pathetic, he's undoubtedly the bottom of the food chain in this place. He clenches his stomach muscles and eases himself into a standing position so that he can move across the small space between them to the pane of glass. Little pustules have started to sprout along his cheekbone, a clear sign that he is getting stressed. And too, a clear sign that his quirk is still alive in him somewhere, with no way of bursting free.]

CHISAKI: But it wouldn't serve your purpose to do either of those, would it? So why don't you tell me the point of all these absurd tests? 

[Chisaki grits his teeth, thinking of the undignified way the doctors working on him have him stripped and cut open and bled like a pig.] 

CHISAKI: Why won't anyone tell me? AYUMU: What is there to tell?

[Is he perceptive or paranoid? Asuka takes that moment to try and decide as they watch him pace, looking sad. It's one of the sadder sights in the field, they think. Watching a prisoner drive themselves mad inside their cages, pacing like animals in a zoo. The hives are worse. If they keep up, they think, they might have to find a way to tranquilize him, and they don't want that. That would cause for another delay, and they are tired, so tired of how long this all was taking.]

AYUMU: Have you considered that we want to help you? That we want you to be better? That, maybe, all this unpleasantness is all going to be worth something in the future? [They huff.] You stew in so much negativity... you expect so much wrong, you can't see what's right in the world, that's the thing that's killing you, not us.

[They sigh again.] 

AYUMU: I try to talk to you. You push me away. How can you be expect to be told anything if you can't seem to handle a simple conversation? [The levied accusation makes Chisaki's eye twitch. He can handle whatever they through at him, he just thinks these pitiful conversations about feelings are utterly pointless. They don't care, they can't possibly care, they just want information from him. They want something from him but he can't figure it out and it's driving him crazy.

Utterly crazy.

He continues to stare at Asuka with wide, bloodshot eyes.]

CHISAKI: Fine. Then talk. AYUMU: ...

[They don't answer for a moment, forcing the room into silence for a few seconds.]

AYUMU: ... I've noticed you suffer from psychosomatic symptoms... [they start slowly.] When you're stressed, you break out. This stresses you out, does it not...? Why? [Chisaki doesn't stop staring at them. He turns his body to face them.]

CHISAKI: Because I don't like talking about something as pointless as feelings. I don't understand why it's necessary for my jailer to know if I got my delicate little feelings hurt. I don't trust you. I don't trust why the fuck you need to know those things about me.

[He's almost hissing at them by the time he pauses for breath.

The hives aren't from the stress alone. They're the product of his quirk, worsened by the fact that it cannot be unleashed. Chisaki can feel it boiling beneath his skin, dormant, but certainly still there.]

CHISAKI: They're worse because my quirk isn't functioning properly. AYUMU: ... I am not your jailer. I am your therapist. And because I am such, your feelings are important to me. I don't want you to suffer here, and if you are suffering I can help you get better treatment if and when you cooperate with me. I'm not asking for your trust...

[Though, they are. They really are. They ache for it, that coveted vulnerability that seems rarer and rarer with every moment and every session.]

AYUMU: I'm just asking for you to let me help you. That's all.

[Asuka nods slowly, then writes that down in their pad.] 

AYUMU: I had no idea, though... thank you. Can you please tell me more about your quirk and how that's affected you...?

[Therapist, huh? What a bunch of utter bullshit they're spouting. All that talk of care and trust and help, he doesn't believe it for a second. Chisaki has put his trust in Trojan horses once before and stamped its hooves on his life's work. But, he could play along for a little while, it might be to his benefit. He can tailor his responses, reveal nothing important, maybe feign a little emotion if that's what they want.

His face is pulled tight when he takes a seat on the floor again. He sighs.]

CHISAKI: It's called- it's called Overhaul. 

[That name seems so sour now.] 

CHISAKI: The activation point is- was my hands. I can still feel it there but-

[Chisaki frowns. He looks down at his stumps and clenches his jaw. They couldn't be happy with his research, his dreams, his syndicate, oh no. There was a final blow needed.]

CHISAKI: But there's no way for me to get it out anymore. Not properly. [Another slow nod as they write it down. Basic information. The heroes had found out his quirk on their own, and they had access to every bit of that information they'd gathered during that particular mission. But it's nice to hear it in his own words.]

AYUMU: It's always complicated when a quirk's use is so entwined with one's health... [they murmur, more for themselves than for him.] Do you feel your quirk often? What does this all feel like to you, having it... 

[They search for the words.] 

AYUMU: ...having it prohibited from you so...? [They're taking notes. What are they writing about him?

Chisaki's eye twitches again.]

CHISAKI: I feel it all the time. Having it linger inside me without being able to use it doesn't feel pleasant. If I could access it, I could fix myself. It's...frustrating.

[He furrows his brows and slumps over himself with another huff. This is pointless conversation.]

CHISAKI: Being stuck like this is frustrating. AYUMU: Mm...

[As he continues, they scrawl in their pen. Possibility of restricted quirk use following thorough rehabilitation?

They wonder if it's possible. The commission doesn't tell them everything, but they've had more than a few glimpses of their plans. They know what's been done and they know what's to come. They know that Chisaki has been deemed utterly unredeemable, more or less anyway, and that they plan to use him for their own purposes as much as they possibly could with little to no mercy attached. They know, with all the commission's studies of extraction and implantation, and with every quirk scientist in the country absolutely rushing to achieve a fraction of everything All for One has accomplished, that there is something that could be done here, not just to help hero society, but to help Chisaki too.

It's a little naive, they know. They are fully aware of every crime the villain before them has committed. It may not be possible, it may be too late to sow even a single seed of good within him. But they do want to try.

At the very least, they do want to inch them closer to where he's meant to be. ...

Lost in thought, they glance upwards towards him again.]

AYUMU: Do you feel broken, Chisaki-san?... [What a question. An intrusive, unwanted, ridiculous question. To think that someone like him could possibly be broken? What are they writing? What are they writing?! His expression turns strained. He hasn't been broken down and he hasn't lost, not yet. Sure, his research, his men, his quirk, his arms, all might have been taken from him but- but he'll get them back. He can fix this, definitely, definitely. It isn't over until he says it is. He's the boss, he's-

Somewhere in his noisy thoughts, he begins to tremble. The seeds of panic feel like they're sprouting, blossoming along the inside of his guts and up his throat, making it difficult to breathe. It is a sad state of affairs that he should find himself acting like a simpering child, but the feeling is not something he can stop - and believe him, he's tried to eradicate it.]

CHISAKI: N-no, I-

[Chisaki's breath quickens. He reaches up to grip his face but phantom hands cannot touch the living. His stomach pitches unpleasantly and he feels acid burn the back of his throat.]

CHISAKI: I- no, I don't feel- 

[He drags in a shaky breath] 

CHISAKI: I feel dirty. [They want to hold him. It almost hurts to have this glass seperating them, when he's already so harmless anyway, so that they could comfort him properly. No one deserves to be this lost, to drown in their thoughts in isolation like this.]

AYUMU: ...

[The next question is cruel, they know. Such a loaded phrase clearly carries a bloody history with it. But they can't keep from letting it fall from their mouths anyway.]

AYUMU: Why? [Asuka asks quietly.] Why would you feel dirty...? [Chisaki grits his teeth and looks up at them. His eyes sting. He wants to curl over himself as a form of protective comfort but his pride doesn't allow such a shameful action in front of this therapist.]

CHISAKI: Because there's filth everywhere. Always, can't- can't get to stay off. People don't see it, they don't see they're teeming with rot.

[The ever-present voice in the back of his mind tells him he's filthy, filthy and failing, disappointing, a worthless rotten little beast of a child-

With his chin jut out in a pointless attempt at defiance, Chisaki continues complaining. He ignores that he's started to cry.]

CHISAKI: I want a sh-shower! Or a bath. I want to get c-clean and no-one will let me!

[Such mundane, petty complaints. They're easier to address than the things stuffed deep inside, locked away, hidden.] AYUMU: ...

[Gently, Asuka eases down from their chair. They lower themselves to the floor, inching closer to the glass, placing a hand against it as they watch the tears drip down the broken man before them's cheeks. They take the sight in, wondering how rare it is, coveting it quietly like a precious jewel.]

AYUMU: Chisaki-san... I don't think you're filthy... [they murmur carefully, meaning every word.] I don't think you're rotten either. And I want to help you, okay? I want to help you...

[Their fingers move along the glass somewhat. If they could wipe his tears away, they would.]

AYUMU: I'll talk to someone for you. We can get you a shower, or a bath, whichever... okay? I'll help you feel clean again, okay? [Chisaki rubs his face against his shoulder to scrub some of the tears away. Silly signs of weakness, they fall unbidden, without his consent. He grinds his teeth, hissing through them as Asuka continues to talk.]

CHISAKI: Why the fuck would you do that? Why would someone like you want to help me?

[There's bitterness in his voice as he spits at the therapist. They don't care about his wants or comfort, why would they?]

CHISAKI: Th-this pathetic attempt to get on my good side...

[Chisaki laughs mirthlessly] 

CHISAKI: I don't have a good side, I fucking hate you. All of you.

[He's getting more and more stressed, and the hives on his face spread. Without his realisation, the bandages covering his stumps start to shred.] [So focused on his expression and the way his hives grow to cover it, they almost don't notice at first.]

AYUMU: I don't care that you hate me, Chisaki... [they assure relentlessly, starting to speak over all the hateful words that leave him.] And if you wanted to hurt me, I wouldn't care either. Even if you tried to kill me, I'd still be trying to help you. Because I want to care for you! I want to do more for you than any of the people who turned you into this ever did. You don't have to be scared. It's okay... [They are insufferable. Their words are insufferable. Chisaki grinds his teeth so loudly he can hear the sound grating around his skull.]

CHISAKI: Scared...[How dare they? How fucking dare they?!] I'm not scared, you little idiot.

[Chisaki gets to his feet and skulks closer to them, eyes wide with anger.]

CHISAKI: Why do you people insist on pushing your care onto people who don't want it? I don't want your pathetic attempts at help. [If it weren't for the protective glass and the convenience of their quirk, they would have been alarmed by the way he suddenly surges forward. As it is, they only look at him with blinking eyes as Chisaki approaches.]

AYUMU: B-- because I--

[They stop short suddenly. Because, now that Chisaki's closer, they can see it. His arms are in view now and right before their eyes, the bandages are actually, literally tearing themselves to pieces. Panic and a violent sense of wonder suddenly seizes them.

Is his quirk evolving-!?

Oh, it's fascinating! It's perfect. This- this makes Overhaul viable! This means progress can happen!!

This also means Asuka could be in more danger than they'd already suspected.

Better handle this fast. Hoping the shock hasn't entered their expression, Asuka smiles to Chisaki in reassurance, holding up a hand in a calm show of surrender as the other slips into her pocket, finding a small remote with a button they press to alert the guards with. This session will have to end sooner than they'd hoped.]

AYUMU: Okay... Chisaki-san, it's okay. If you want to be done, we're done here, I won't say anything anymore. Please calm down... [Chisaki heaves in a breath as increasingly violent tremors run along the length of his spine. He's utterly furious and this stupid fucking bitch isn't listening to him. 'Calm down', like it's that easy. 'It's okay', like it's that goddamn simple to feel fine and dandy.

His eyes bulge in their sockets. Pops always said he had an awful temper.]

CHISAKI: We're not fucking done. I want to know why I'm being kept here. I want to know what the fuck all those experiments are for! I'm not your guinea pig!

[The irony is unfortunately lost on him.]

CHISAKI: Tell me!

[Chisaki is utterly seething as he approaches the glass, so distracted he barely notices the state of his bandages. Asuka remains calm, still muttering platitudes and 'calm down'. His jaw clenches tight and his face turns a violent shade of red as his anger boils over.]

CHISAKI: I will not calm down!

[He thwacks a stump against the glass without much though, hissing through his teeth at the nervous therapist on the other side. Without warning, the glass cracks. Spidery fractals splinter outward from the point where he rested the stump of his arm, not breaking it completely, but enough to cause a few pieces of glass to fall at his feet. Chisaki stumbles backwards, making a noise of alarm.]

CHISAKI: W-w- [The damage itself is small. But it's terrifying. Asuka scrambles further away from the glass, eyes wide, thoughts spinning, theorizing, trying to access the situation as quickly as they could. They watch Chisaki staggering back, realizing what they've done, and in an instant they're spinning around, facing one of the cameras staring their way.]

ASUKA: Security!!

[In an instant, the alarms blare with red light. The door bursts open. Guards pour into the room, lunging at Chisaki, bringing him down hard. Needles appear to jab deep into his skin, syringes full of suppressants, of tranquilizers, anything and everything to keep him down.

On the other side, a similar bustle appears as Asuka's own door is thrown open, security rushing to their aid. At their side in a moment, a guard looks at Asuka with a stern sympathy as they help them to their feet and immediately starts to guide them out.

As they do, Asuka spares one last, longing little glance over at Chisaki as he's gathered up into the guards' vice grips again. They hope he'll be okay. They hope the men aren't too harsh on him. And they hope, naively, that one day, maybe, Chisaki will learn to forgive them all for what's bound to happen next.]

[fortheheavenssake]

💜💜PG MM ANON💜💜 Interpretation Collection- 5

Anon said:

You go PG!!! 😊😊😊🌸🌸🌹🐼🐼🐝🐝👍👍👍💖💖💖🌻🌻🌼🌼🌼😊😊😍😍💜💜🌹🌹🌹🌺🌺🌺💙💙💙🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌹🌹🌹❤❤❤👍👍👍👍 Violets 🌼

Anon said:

💗🌲🌞😺 hi Skippy this is for PG and JG🏡🌲🥰🥰🧚‍♀️👑👑🐱🐰🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🐥🌺🌹🌼🌸💐🐿

******

36.

💜💜nothing went through but MM ANON’s riddle🥃💜

MM ANON … smokescreen’ it’s a bloody forest fire …… feed the mushrooms ……… interview ‘off the record … financial litigation …… not your average SNAP-shot?…… “ hiding in full sight”……… a complicated appearance ……🎼it’s a little bit funny🎼………Balmoral revisited part two……” dark or white meat”…… 👁🤝☎️��🔐…… a sordid publication!!!!…… but’but,look on the bright side.

Smokescreen’,it’s a bloody forest fire…

‘Fake photos’ of PH, mm amw, the child in huge, doesn’t move, dressed in clothing as if it’s January. The two alleged Sussexes, wore hats/caps, heads down, no way to ascertain for sure the identities. Flying via private jet, EJ pipes in that he footed the carbon footprint 🤨🧐mmmmm’kay 🤥🤥🤥🤥🤥🤥. All look here look here, don’t pay any kind to PA and the forest fire raging, lies, obfuscations, major monarchy shaking issues happening, but watch the private jet issues. Puh -leeze? This is just a major amount of ordinance thrown into the fire and explosions rumbling worldwide. I have said this three times, but it bears repeating, watch the stock market, JE played in a league beyond what any of us could imagine, the real $$$$£££££€€€ of the world. Have your portfolios in order.

Feed the mushrooms….

Mushrooms grow best in dark, dirty soil, fertilized ie manure conditions l so there is more filth coming, and it will continue …..this is not a one big news break and it’d done, no no no.These investigations have been ongoing for years…think back to LLM, 1955!!! The F.B.I. started in earnest gathering any and all intel on his behaviours!

Interview off the record

Is this PA and the BRF demand? As thus far it’s an American issue, he has not cooperated , this is madness, absolute insanity.

Financial litigation

Lawsuits being threatened or actually filed against PA/BRF for financial compensation to the underage victims he allegedly had sex with.

Not your average SNAP-shot

Who sent sex photos via the web? Or via mobile? Who has underage naked photos???

“Hiding in full sight”

PA? Galavanting around Europe on private jet unheeded and seemingly unbothered l except “appalled “ at JE behaviour. What we have in a man who has been untouchable, pardon that horrible pun. Untouchable when the palace denied any allegations years ago and he still living large , doing his thing , with a smug smile on his face ten days or so ago, when he attended Craithie Chapel with HMTQ. Makes me so angry!

A complicated appearance

HMTQ will have a few outings chapel, facing the public. I still feel haunted by those two photos of her last Sunday in the car in the rain going to Chapel.😢.

🎼 its a little bit funny 🎼

Your song by EJ. LOVE that song but he pipes in regarding the private jet/paying carbon emissions BS. Why is he piping in now?? The whole world is going crazy, even ED from L.A. Is piping in her opinion.

Balmoral revisited, volume two

Oh MM ANON, giving me fond memories of Brideshead Revidited😊. PA taking another trip to see HMTQ? I soooo badly want to say mummy, but l cannot.

“dark or white meat”

OMG! I think l know what this means but l cannot type what l think. Victims of human trafficking and sex rings and those whose utilize them, those individuals have certain things they favour in a victim. I just cannot say more!

👁 🤝 ☎️ 🏰 🔐

Things have been seen, intel, maybe even satellite data as MM ANON had a mentioned a satellite dish in a very recent riddle. Calls have been made and received. When l see a red phone, l think of a secured phone, with technology to prevent any possible ‘listening in ‘. The palace ie The Firm LG and HMTQ have sealed the deal, l see this regarding mm. PA is a whole other kettle of 🐠. Sorry MM ANON, I just HAD to use an emoji, in your emoji clue😊.

A sordid publication!!!!!

Ok folks, get comfortable, get popcorn 🍿 and 🥃 and watch the show. Photos, videos, the whole lot is going to be published. I hope PM flying es back from Nice not in coach but private jet because HE WILL be one of the tellers of this! I CAMNOT WAIT!!!

but, but look on the bright side..

Reassurance that hey we finally getting mm dealt with, distract from the looming tsunami with PA.

Thank you so much PG…looks great!😊💜💜💜💜

69 notes

Aug 20th, 2019

—————

37.

💜💜PG INTERPRETATION 💜💜

Thank you MM ANON💜🙏🏻😊👋

Sorry it’s so late l have had a houseful of family today. This one took me longer, my hands are so numb today. So, please forgive any spelling or grammar errors GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

MM Anon

MM ANON … buy one,get one free …… baffle them with itinerary …… Lack of FIB-RE…… Bury this one Charles …… “And by opposing end them”……… The devil is in the (denial) detail……Sierra’Charlie’Alpha’Mike……… 👎🦷🤫🏁🗯🔓……… something borrowed,something BLUE…… “throw another million on fire, darling”…… “when the wind BLOWS”………… Sorry’ I don’t see a reservation!!

Buy one get one free

This lovely PR, the faux-manitarian behaving like a teen shopping for her grad dress! This whole Smart Works is such a $$$€€€€££££ grab.

I seriously cannot believe respectable companies are involved, but than again M&S are on their last leg and pinning hopes on this working. As far as presenting herself professionally, one would not ever show up for a job, a DECENT job dressed thus and acting like that and have any hopes of attaining the position. At least not in my world or any professional l know.

But l digressed sorry just had to add that.

Baffle them with itinerary

This is hilarious because nobody here was baffled. People were clever enough to search out the planes call signs . We are not teenage ‘squad’ members. The fun addition of commentary from EJ, ED and P**K, l refuse to spell her name!

Lack of FIB-RE

FIB in the UK is the Fraud Intelligence bureau. Well our girls loves to merch, and there have been a lot of financial questions. Is this agency investigating?? I find this interesting. I also this, as a healthy body needs fibre to cleanse the body of waste and helps ease its removal, very likely that the work this agency and other are assisting is removing waste from the Royal system. Just a thought.

Bury this one Charles

Buried secrets. Things PC has kept secret, and they need to stay buried. I strongly alluded to one the other riddle regarding LLM, but is PC compelled to keep schtum about PA.

“ and by opposing end them”

MM ANON SHAKESPEARE…Hamlet….to be or not to be, that is the question, whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them. Hamlet soliloquy, on suicide or action, what to do…..one of many soliloquy’s we had to memorize in school. Mans action or inactions. JE chose suicide, others like PH , PA have not. There are two ways to deal, this is a quagmire.

The devil is in the denial(detail)

The saying is the devil is in the details, meaning if you forget the small things, the entire project, plan etc, may collapse I see this as the strong denial put foreword years ago regarding the allegations against PA, it’s the cover-up of the sin.

Sierra ‘Charlie’Alpha’Mike

Acronym obviously SCAM, however deeper Charlie?Charles Alpha?the Alpha son who would be King. Was he aware of the PA behaviour, allegations denied years ago? If he was a party to the cover-up that will be a knell to his being King. This was referenced in recent riddle regarding regency.

👎🦷🤫🏁🗯🔓

Offer not accepted, someone is gritting their teeth over this but must keep this quiet. The race is over, shouting of excitement or anger depending which one is party of and the locks are open, for now. So for now PA remains free, at some point, unless things go completely pear shaped and The Firm hides him, he will be compelled to answer questions.

Something borrowed, something BLUE…

Old wedding saying, you all know it… Smart Works regency to the program of providing clothes for women seeking employment our faux-manitarian is playing at. BLUE please PLEASE FINALLY! Let the video, filthy photos of yachting days and all the garbage be made public. PLEASE!🙏🏻

Throw another million on the fire darling

More more and STILL MORE PR! SICKENING!

When the winds BLOWS….

The cradle will fall….little rubber doll will fall but whoa miracle child unhurt! Please let this ongoing lie be made know please! BLOWS, well, we know whose the expert!

Sorry, l don’t see a reservation!

She is done! Backs turned…….over! PLEASE!

Wonderful job! Thank you so much PG! So happy you had a great family filled day!😊❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

55 notes

Aug 21st, 2019

——————-

38.

💜💜PG INTERPRETATION 💜 💜

💜💜Hi everybody, l am so sorry l couldn’t do the riddle yesterday 😞. I have been working on today’s. I don’t know how good it is, l have been so poorly glad my sister is here. I have read heard any news except what was said about our little George💜💜

Thank you so much MM ANON

MM ANON … Highs and LOWS……… FAMILY concerns …LOOSE cannon…… Morgan/sorry Megan “ a suitable case for treatment”. …… “this is not a rehearsal!!”…… Carra-BEING…… detected, rejected, Sub-jected…… 🏌️‍♂️👁🤫👯���♀️🌪…… at last we can relax ‘ for a few weeks …… another holiday ( fetch the jet)…… THICK SKIN-ned …EX-COMMUNE-negated.

Thank you MM ANON

Highs and LOWS

Her behaviour has been repeatedly witnessed high, low, bizarre, etc

FAMILY concerns

The entire BRF is FAMILY , mm is not. There are numerous serious issues at play here, PA, PH, what’s to be done, what truths are to be told and what’s best just left as it is. GOT “nothing buried stays buried “ The entire family now is at Balmoral, l am not 100% certain where PH is.

LOOSE cannon…

Several layers of secrets as the are exposed the public’s reaction will be very unpredictable, many are onto her fake ness and are already now aware of PA friendships with various nefarious individuals. I say several loose cannons.

Morgan/sorry Megan “a suitable case for treatment.

Notice Megan is spelled without the H that mm uses. Morgan a suitable case for treatment is a 1966 film.

DescriptionVolatile artist returns to London after having been institutionalized, hoping to reconcile with his wife. When he learns she is leaving him for art dealer he is determined to win her back. While stalking her, he becomes obsessed with Marxism and gorillas. In his new monkey costume, the artist begins a campaign of harassment against her and her lover.

Hmmm stalking, obsession, years of pre-planning, substance use/abuse. Sounding like institutional treatment for long time, versus prison at this time.

This is not a rehearsal

Reminds me a few days ago there was question regarding London bridge falling down code, rumours rampant someone had passed. So what we are going to see now is the real deal, no more f***ing kabuki. Sorry language, you have no idea how FURIOUS l am at that tv lady, l can’t use the word journalist.

Carry-BEING

As the Duke of Windsor was exiled to the Bahamas, PA may well be given such a post. Or PH to Africa, or both!

Detected, rejected, subjected

We have had this before. Substance detected, application for citizenship rejected, she will be subjected to face her legal consequences , will be subjected to medical care, treatment, rehab, than legal issues. ? In UK or US?

🏌️ 👁🤫👯 🌪

Golfing relaxing, someone saw something that was to be very confidential. Man involved with women, in any public knowledge of this is coming and it will be a massive tornado of news and public reactions.

At least we can relax for a few weeks

With mm dealt with finally, they can spend time at Balmoral together and relax. There will be one huge firestorm when the fake wedding, fake pregnancy etc etc etc and the millions of £££££££ spent.

Another holiday ( fetch the jets)

PH going likely to Africa, not holiday but public may see it as holiday. Or keener still, LG releases that MM ha jetted off and she is really in custody. THAT would be brilliant!

THICK SKIN-ned

The royals, Brits is general have tough stuff, despite the firestorm that is going to be unleashed, they will all carry on with their duties. LOVE THEM SO💜GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

EX-COMMUNE-gated

Someone ex behind gates oh we are all praying it’s mm, and she will be ex, if the wedding was legal even.

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

I have a lot of blog to read but this was my priority. I will be here when l am able. Love and prayers for you all.💜🐼🙏🏻🐼😊🐼👋🐼💜💜💜💜💜💜

Thank you so much PG! Prayers for you!🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

70 notes

Aug 23rd, 2019

—————

39.

Thank you MM ANON 🙏🏻💜💜

MM ANON … August Bank Jolly-stay……”were gonna need a bigger statement”…… “the boys a f#@ing embarrassment” …… “ it all went tits up when he met that bloody woman”…”calm down Philip” ……… I’d stay put if I were you ……on the Fly-bee……… smelling of (slightly wilted) roses…… “and that day may never come”… blame Fredo …… her “Diana” moment …… 👎🏉🎟.

August Bank Jolly-stay…

Play on words of the August Bank Holiday/long weekend term used in 🇨🇦

ABJ all capitalized, meaning?? PA et al are vacationing in Spain, or last l heard. Seems golfing is fun, doesn’t outwardly seem bothered, blows my mind. Jolly, when l was in Scotland was the coolest restaurant in Dundee, but l don’t think it is that. Some having a jolly stay , certainly the Royal family has circled the wagons at Balmoral. Please, PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE , PULL THE PLUG ON HER ALREADY!!

We’re gonna need a bigger statement”

PA released a letter today decrying JE behaviours but absolute denial of any awareness of illegal sexual conduct. Continues Spanish vacay and not going to U.S. to be interviewed. They NEED cooperative from him, not just a flighty statement signed Andrew!

The boys a f#@ing embarrassment..

This is definitely PP talking about PA, dragging such filth into the monarchy. Fed up with this ongoing issue for years now.

It all went tits up when he met that woman…calm down Philip

Two possibles PA and GM or PH and MM, both are horrific but l think he’s referring to mm and the embedding into the Firm. I hear HMTQ tellingly him to calm himself. So awful at their age, after a lifetime of service, they are having to deal with this!

I’d stay put if l were you

PA stay in Spain, golf away, enjoy your family vacation. Oh how l feel for Beatrice and Eugenie. Fergie is in things £££€€£££

On the Fly-bee

The Cambridge’s et al flew to Aberdeen on Flybe £78 each, now it has come out, the airplane was directed to fly to Norwich empty to pick them up. What started as a good carbon footprint has gone pear shape, to no fault of theirs.

Smelling of (slightly wilted )roses

Is this the nonsense PR about mm , PH and MM going to Princess Diana’s grave? Oh how foul a beast that breathes the breath to use that as PR. A fell wind doth blow!!

“And that day may never come”

The facing of American justice by PA, if anything they hope for financial settlement. At this point SDNY is too far in, he needs to cooperate SOON,

Blame Fredo

Godfather reference. Fredo was the useless brother who sold out the family and paid with his life. This scenario, who is the brother that sold out the family???PA, Although he will not lose his life, he’s betrayed everything his mother holds dear!

Her “Diana” moment

Again this is the vile PR putrid words that she, MM and PH will make a visit to Diana’s grave around the anniversary date of her death, next week. This enrages me almost equally as that “tv lady” making fun of PG. (Prince George, not me ie PG🤣)

👎 🏉 🎟

Only PH at the rugby, no mm! But he is not himself at all!Oh how l,wish l knew more!!!

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

💜💜🙏🏻God bless you MM ANON🙏🏻💜💜

Thank you PG…..😊💜💜💜💜💜❤️

Aug 24th, 2019

—————

40.

💜💜PG INTERPRETATION OF MM ANON💜💜

MM ANON … airmiles the Sunday roast!!…expect a Murky PR blitz…public poll’ most hated …… “ just f@# them off to the colonies”…a heavy toll…… (A HEALTH CONCERN)… “rest is recommended”……contemplating a Ruling change …… This much loved family …2025?👑👑……A brave new word…… A Monarchy Renaissance … OUR COMMON-WEALTH. …… A holistic answer

air miles the Sunday roast!!

Sunday roast may be Sunday dinner as a family. This is a different roast , as in mocking something or someone, remember the old roasts on US network tv, the ones on now are so vulgar they are unwatchable! I believe this this is family discussion, conversation regarding all the jet-setting, were they real or LG PR?? The fall-out with the public has been enormous after The woke ‘preaching’ over eco-living/carbon 👣.

expect a Murky PR blitz!!

She who shall not be named is continuing and will worsen her agile, loathsome PR, it’s sheer evil!!

Public poll, most hated!!

Mm will be listed as the absolute most hated ‘royal’ likely ever, but truly she is NOT ‘royal’.

“Just f@# them off to the colonies”

This is PP 100% his solution send mm and her issue, back to America, just be done with it already.

A heavy toll, A HEALTH CONCERN

This is taking a heavy toll on the entire family, the reputation etc of the entire BRF. Decades of dedication and service washed away by this person and behaviour. I have been and vocally before stated my concern for the health effects of this on HMTQ, PP, and PH. I am triply concerned and out Harry now, after the suicide of his friend in early August. PTSD and it’s high rate of suicide, he is high risk, add to that the role he has been compelled to play for two years now. I keep him close in prayers 🙏🏻. Please everyone do🙏🏻.

“Rest is recommended”

I think for HMTQ , PP and escape PH. oh how l am concerned!

Contemplating a Ruling change, this much beloved family, 2025 👑 👑,

Again l wonder, if Regency is on the table, for discussion, and coronation deferred until 2025 for PC and C, he would rule as Regent in HMTQ stead. I highly doubt they would jump over to PW and DC.

A brave new word

Regent! New paradigm of how the BRF is viewed, titles and their role.

A monarchy renaissance.

Renaissance ,a revival of or renewed interest in something. Regency, and dealing with the horrid fall-out of mm, would be the public’s view of our Royals that we love so much!💜🙏🏻💜. Requiring a whole new paradigm for all our Royals and function.

OUR COMMON-WEALTH

we, are the Commonwealth, the UK and all the Common Wealth, we love so dearly, we are part of BRF, their role in our daily lives, they visit, on our money, at any political decisions, the Governor General is HMTQ official representative. Also the actual $$$££££££€€€€ the family shares, property jewels owned by HMTQ. It’s all at play, how much will be paid in recompense if any regarding PA , if any legal civil penalties are levied.

A holistic answer

Helping PH cope with all he is, PTSD likely, the fallout of one bad decision regarding mm, and all the fallout of that, the suicide of his friend, the public changing their feelings for him. WE STILL LOVE YOU HARRY💜💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜

PLEASE GOD, LET THEM ALL BE WELL AND RECOVER FROM THIS. PLEASE PLEASE REMOVE SHE, WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED!!

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

THANK YOU MM ANON💜💜🙏🏻💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

Thank you so much PG…yes prayers!🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜😊💜

Aug 25th, 2019

—————

41.

💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻💜💜

MM ANON ……🎼 O’ honey honey 🎼…… a Northern anticipation?……A cleaner Subpoena … desperation, exasperation , instigation ……… “Spend, spend, spend”…… “The Wicked Lady”…… “The naming of parts” …… This poignant reflection …… a Flushing visit.…… Harry Pottering………much MORE Wien-ing …… 🙀👤👂🌧⚡️……🎼you ain’t seen Nnnnnothing yet 🎼

🎼 O’ honey honey

Old song by the group The Archies. Typical pop song cheesy love lyrics. Well we sort of know who Archie is, but nothing for certain, age, father, where he is etc. I also wonder the use of candy is reference to substances?

A Northern anticipation?

Is mm going to Balmoral? Will there be an intervention type confrontation? Will there be some sort of law/taking into custody or hospitalization/rehab destination first?

A cleaner Subpoena

I hear the word cleaner and in any criminal event, my thoughts go to what has been referenced before, those silent,,quiet grey men/women in suits who clean up after the messes of the wealthy or politically important people. In this case however, l suspect the Subpeona capitalized may mean PA interview with the F.B.I. with very clear line of questions that may be asked has been sorted and agreed to by his legal representation but then it would not be a subpoena if he willingly answered questions. Subpoena, for interviews when someone is not voluntarily wanting to testify or give an interview, in this case it’s very likely a female we know. The word cleaner mystifies me, other than there are so many issues allegedly involved, the subpoena may be restricted at this point to the issue, my usage of the word issue here means quite literally her issue, meaning the child that may have her DNA, via surrogate. The subpoena then involving the subterfuge of the child and fake pregnancy, violation of the “ of the body” law.

desperation, exasperation, instigation

She is desperate, PR shows that, anything and everything horrid is being put out, worst being Involving Harry’s mother. Everyone is beyond exasperated with her, plain sick and tired a year ago. People would just like her to leave the country and go live quietly elsewhere, yeah like that’s going to happen. Instigation is the action or process of instigating an action or event. Well she has been instigating a long time repeatedly, but what will be the final time? The brutal use of Princess Diana the final straw.

Spend, spend, spend

PR up the wazoo $$$$££££££€€€€€ . PR is getting crazier, inhumane, interesting consistent SPLASH, etc same paps used by the players…..seems unending and the depths gone to, l almost can smell the sulpher from the evilness..

“The Wicked Lady”

1945 film, plot is In 17th-century England, a woman lives a privileged yet humdrum life as the wife of well-heeled land-owner. To stave off boredom, she begins impersonating a famed highway robber stealing precious jewels and valuables from coach passengers. A chance encounter with the actual thief propels her into a dangerous double life with potentially lethal consequences. Hmmmm double life, lies, stealing, treachery, danger reminding you of anyone???

“The Naming of parts”

Naming is capitalized, is this to do with Archie, part of his name is Mountbatten Windsor. These parts of his name are stolen as he is not of royal blood, most certainly does not fit the “ if the body” requirements of the laws regarding royal succession. Lies more lies.

This poignant reflection

As the time approaches, or rather the anniversary date of Princess Diana’s death approaches, the boys, the entire family undoubtedly reflect on the what if’s? Especially now, with a new baby Prince Louis, and all the horror of mm, how things might/would be so different were she still there. So precious how PW spoke about telling his children about their other grandmother!💜

A Flushing visit

Might mm visit the tennis? Might she break her toilet and have trouble flushing?😄😂😂🤣sorry l had to interject some humour, this is taking me forever, my blasted hands😖.

Harry Pottering

The first thing comes to my mind is MISCHIEF MANAGED!! Has she and her ‘mischief’ been finally dealt with/managed and is she out to a place where doors may be locked? Prison or institution? Either way, she is managed!

No More Wiening

No more whining from her in the media/PR etc. Wien and Vienna are different names for the same city. Wien is the German word, Vienna is English word. JE had an Austrian passport. Hence no more new behaviour from him, and likely NO MORE MONEY TO SUPPORT THE PLOT/mm alleged funding.

🙀👤👂🌧⚡️…

Silent, hidden observers hear and see something shocking, that will cause a major storm , hypothetical thunder and torrents of hill now secret information, like torrents of rain. I don’t know how the kitty cat is involved unless one wants to use a vulgar word.

🎼youain’t seen nnnnnnothing yet🎼

I know these guys BTO……there is so much filth, information yet to come …beyond our wildest imagination l think.

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

💜💜🙏🏻Thank you MM ANON🙏🏻💜💜

Thank you so much dear PG! MM Anon can you give some feedback for PG, she struggles and yet it’s more important to her to help us out…..God Bless you PG!🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Aug 27th, 2019

————-

42.

💜💜🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻💜💜

MM Anon

MM ANON … THE ENIGMA THAT IS HARRY… that painful public display Of wedded bliss-ters will forever be etched in the National psyche as a comedy of errors the likes of which we will never recover from, the consummate Kabuki. On the left a collective of Hollywood riff-raff, on the right the monarchy in all its 1200 years glory. Dear sweet Jesus ‘ the humiliation. Only one person can end this interminable farce. And sooner than later. Courage is now a necessity.

MM ANON … “ it was the epoch of incredulity”… “she doth protest… Rumbold on retainer …… the ribbons of retribution …… micro evidence in camera …… in contempt of a pardon ……” softly softly……”…… an agreeable conclusion …… “return to this green and pleasant”…” long and winding mode”……in blogs good time.

“It was the epoch of incredulity”

Quote from famous Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, During the French Revolution Paris and France wanted republic, the guillotiine was the means to employ beheadings of royals. In London, during the Victorian time the long ruling Victoria, much beloved by many. The monarchy remained strong.

Are we to believe the entire British monarchy is at risk of republic? People are very angry, across the Commonwealth. When it’s all publicly released as fake, a lie, fake pregnancy, fake 30£ million wedding and on and on, there will be fury like never before. Again not so much the liE, BUT THE COVER UP OF THE LIE! The entire truth must be told now!

She doth protest

Well she doth protest too much which in itself can be inferred as overcompensation for lying.

Rumbold on retainer

Are you being served? Hugely popular vintage British comedy show about the staff at a store. Cuthbert Rumbold managed the lot of characters in employ of the store. So him being on retainer, do we need an excellent manager to deal with the motley crew which is mm et al, of course. The connection to JE via GM via her father below is just interesting!

Grace & Favour, which was known by the title Are You Being Served? Again! in the United States and Canada, is a Britishsitcom sequel to the long-running series Are You Being Served?

The idea of a spinoff was originally suggested by the cast of Are You Being Served? almost immediately after the original series ended in 1985. But though creators-writers liked the idea, they agreed that the department store format was exhausted and that any spinoff would require a change of location. The plotline that brought the cast from the store to the manor was considered remarkably topical, since it aired just a few months after the death of British publishing tycoon Robert Maxwell, who was revealed to have borrowed heavily against his own employees’s pensions.

The ribbons of retribution

Retribution is punishment inflicted on someone as vengeance for a wrong or criminal act. When crimes are international, or war crimes etc the court is the International court at The Hague, Netherlands. It is a blue ribbon panel, meaning a variety of legal experts very highly regarded. Think blue ribbon as the prize flowers at the flower show but on a massive scale.

The International Court of Justice (ICJ) sometimes called the World Court, is the principal judicial organ of the United Nations (UN). The ICJ’s primary functions are to settle international legal disputes submitted by states (contentious cases) and give advisory opinions on legal issues referred to it by the UN (advisory proceedings). Through its opinions and rulings, it serves as a source of international law

I would encourage you all to educate yourself regarding this body.

Ribbons of retribution is also found in X box Gears of War 3, ribbons/medal of honour, service, etc are worn proudly!! PRINCE HARRY SHOULD RECEIVE THE HIGHEST OF HONOUR FOR HIS OVERT COVERT ROLE OVER THE LAST TWO YEARS. YES I MEANT OVERT COVERT!

Micro evidence in camera

In camera, legally or in board meetings etc , in camera comments are those not recorded by the note taker, it’s for the group knowledge or discussion only. Having served in numerous of such capacities l know only too well how difficult those situations can be when people want all the data. Here we have micro, could be DNA. DNA /parentage of baby Archie to remain confidential.

The other obvious could be spy like micro film in a camera but l highly doubt that, just mentioned it as an obvious but MM ANON is never obvious.

In contempt of a pardon

Contempt is disrespect in any form or disrupting court proceedings or non compliance the judge can declare contempt of court. Contempt of a pardon is odd wording. If mm were pardoned , had she been charged, convicted and sentenced, CONTEMPT would be the least of the adjectives. So if PA , neither has been charged of anything to my knowledge, continued to refuse interview by the F.B.I. A subpoena could be issued. The wording of this confuses me. Basically if someone gets pardoned there will be contempt.

“softly, softly “

Softly, softly, catchee monkey”, this old Engllish proverb means that if do not rush or if you avoid being too hasty, then eventually you will achieve your goal - in other words, be patient. How many times has Skippy said, be patient there is a lot we don’t know, and a lot of working going on in the background, globally! Have your ducks in a row is similar!

Softly, Softly was a British television drama series, produced by the BBC and screened on BBC 1 from January 1966. It was created as a spin-off from the series Z-Cars, which ended its fifth series run in December 1965. The series took its name from the proverb “Softly, softly, catchee monkey”, the motto of Lancashire Constabulary Training School.

an agreeable conclusion

They have reached a decision of when and how to end this. We must watch and wait. They have all agreed.The fallout will be horrendous.

Return to this green and pleasant

Once again be settled, able to enjoy a Balmoral as well as the beauty that is family love, PH, PW DOC all publicly able to be themselves once again. England has numerous times been referred to the green and pleasant land in books etc.

Long and winding mode

Song by the Beatles we all know long and winding road. This l believe to be the way or mode in which the information will be shared and the way it will be dealt with. I also think it refers to our Harry and his emotional recovery and the modalities/modes which may have been and might be employed to help him.

In blogs good time

Things will happen In God’s good time. Dare this Skippy be a reference to you and your blog, which has for over 21/2 years been at uncovering the liar….perhaps refers to all the people who via social media blogs have kept the faith GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

Thank you so much PG! You are amazing!😊💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

41 notes

Aug 27th, 2019

[heyyyharry]

In Another Life Series: Chapter 3 - The Girl In Black

…in which Y/N’s first day at work is a mess, and Harry’s relationship is not any better.

Series description: Y/N and Harry are soulmates and destined to meet in every lifetime, but no matter how many times they reincarnate and find each other again, they never seem to get it right.

AU: reincarnation, soulmate!harry, prince!harry, and assistant!y/n

Sorry for taking too long to update this series, Tumblr fucked me up and deleted half a chapter. It would be the last time I wrote directly on Tumblr I’m sure of it. I hope you guys enjoy this, questions are very welcomed. Paragraph in italic took place in the previous life.

Chapter 2 - The Assistant: Harry’s got a new assistant, and Y/N’s got a new job.

.

Y/N didn’t expect her first day at work to start with her head down the toilet. It must have been the milk she’d drunk earlier that morning, or maybe the microwaved dinner from last night. But it didn’t matter now, the important thing was that her famous boss, whom she’d never actually met before, was waiting in the recording studio, while she was throwing up in this bathroom stall.

With her head spinning in circle, however, Y/N could still make out a knock on the door.

“Hey, ya alright?”

She should’ve recognized that British voice because she’d spent the entire night before watching his interviews on Youtube to get to know him better. Nonetheless, in a situation like this her memory was helpless.

“I’m fine…Thanks.” Y/N groaned as she flushed the toilet before rising up from the floor, feeling a bit better but still quite unsure.

“Sir, I don’t think you should be in the ladies’ room,” she told the man on the other side of the door.

And to her surprise, he replied with a laugh. “That’s why I’m in the men’s room.”

Y/N’s bloodshot eyes grew wide the moment she heard those words. She pulled the door open in an instant, then almost fell backward when she found Harry Styles standing right in front of her. Harry gave the girl a friendly smile, yet when he opened his mouth to speak, she immediately turned away and got back down on her knees to empty her stomach in the toilet bowl.

In the haze, Y/N could feel Harry kneeling down by her side, gently holding her hair back so it wouldn’t get in the way. It was a lovely gesture, she supposed, but he still had no idea she was his new assistant.

And the only thing on Y/N’s mind at this very moment was, her first day of this job could also be her last.

...

The girl in black carefully followed the path leading through the dark woods, with only the light from her oil lantern guiding the way. She was heading home alone, like a shadow under the moonlight, trying not to make a sound as her heart was pounding like a drum. 

The young maiden could’ve got home early that night as she was so close to her village already. However, it was one of her good habits that became her obstacle — she never walked away from someone in need.

“Hello?! Can anyone hear me? I’m trapped!”

Her feet rooted to the ground when she heard the cry for help. The girl already had her guards up, ready to fight for her life, but there was no one around! At first, she thought it was just her imagination, then the desperate call repeated, louder this time. It took her a moment to realize it was coming from a hole on the ground a few steps away from where she stood. 

“Who’s there?” she asked, carefully approaching the victim. Holding up her lantern above the hollow to get a better look of whoever was down there. When the light flashed across the person’s face, the girl was so terrified that she backed away from the edge.

“Hello, thank God! Could you please get me out of here?” begged the hopeless young man as he looked up. But this girl knew for certain he wasn’t just a man.

“You’re...You’re the Prince!”

“You recognize me?” Prince Edward smiled widely as he put both hands on his hips and heaved out a sigh of relief. “Great! Now could you please help me out?”

“No.”

Her answer came as a shock to the heir of the throne.

“Pardon?” he raised an eyebrow for no one had ever talked to him that way beside his father - the King.

“I said: No. In fact, I’d let you die down there, so your awful father could learn how it feels to lose someone he loves,” she told him bitterly. “I’m sure you’ve heard of how he burnt down villages because of those rumors about witches. He murdered my entire family. And now you’ve got the audacity to beg for my help?”

“Hey, hey, hey, lady, I don’t know who you are but I swear I knew nothing about those villages. I’m truly sorry about your family, and if you could help me I’d pay you as much as you’d like.”

“I don’t think you could afford it, unless you knew how to resurrect the dead!” The girl turned to walk away, ignoring the young Prince’s pleading from down below. It was getting late and she’d got no time for a conversation with a dying man. However, something occurred to her when she was finally far enough to not hear his voice anymore. 

If she left him there to die, she’d be just as bad as his father. 

“Your Highness.”

Edward shot his face up and grinned widely when he saw the girl had returned. She rolled her eyes skyward then sighed heavily before laying out her bargain, “if I save your life, would you do me a favor?”

“Anything!” Edward spoke too soon, after that he realized how risky this agreement could turn out to be and quickly added, “wait, if you want to turn me against my father, then I’m sorry I cannot give you my word!”

What he said made the girl laugh, then she assured him, “you don’t have to betray your family or your country, I promise. Do we have a deal?”

“Yes.” Edward nodded his head in response to the stranger standing on the edge of the hollow, holding his life in the palm of her hand. Now he could only count on his own judgement that she wasn’t going to kill him once he got out of there.

...

“How is she?” Harry asked the doctor once the man walked out of the room but Y/N wasn’t with him.

“She’s going to be fine,” the middle-aged man said with a gentle smile, making Harry feel more at ease. “The girl got food poisoning, not very serious so I’ve already given her some pills. Let her stay here for an hour to see if she feels any better then she can go.”

“Thank you, doctor” replied Harry as he shook the doctor’s hand then watched the man walk away. He intended to go into the room to check on his new assistant immediately, but the moment he grabbed the doorknob, the phone in his pocket buzzed to notify him of a new text. It was from his manager Jeffrey.

Hey are you alright?

Harry furrowed his eyebrows as he read the question.

I’m fine, I’m still at the hospital with Y/N. Why?

You haven’t seen the pictures?

What pictures?

Jeff left Harry’s latest message at seen so Harry had to find out on his own. He immediately went on social media (it’s sad how this was his first guess) and the first thing he saw was an article published by an online magazine with all the pictures of his girlfriend making out with another man.

Lillie Xander caught kissing a new man!!! Yikes! How does Harry Styles feel about this?

For that one second, Harry almost stopped breathing. He wished those photos hadn’t been real, that they’d been photoshopped and his girlfriend of two years hadn’t cheated on him. However, reality sucked, and he felt like a fool.

Harry was still staring at his phone when the door flew open all of a sudden and slammed with hard against his left arm! The girl behind it immediately mumbled her apology and she looked more frightened when she recognized who he was.

“Hey, shouldn’t you be lying down?” Harry asked Y/N while rubbing the sore spot on his arm, making his new assistant feel extremely guilty. Not only had she made him drive her all the way to the hospital and thrown up on his expensive jacket, but she also slammed him with the door. She was so in trouble after this.

“Am I fired?” she stared at him with her sad puppy dog eyes, and it took Harry a moment to take it in before he burst into laughter.

“You honestly thought I was going to fire you for being sick on your first day?”

“And for destroying your Gucci jacket and not being able to buy another one for you even if I sold myself.” She rolled her eyes backward and groaned out loud. “What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t get anything right.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Harry caught her by surprise when he grabbed her arms, holding her firmly place so she would look at his face. 

Y/N turned to stone the very moment she made eye-contact with her new boss. Suddenly, everything started playing in slow-motion as she fell into the loop of his intense stare. Despite having already seen plenty photos of this man, Y/N was certain that wasn’t the reason why she found those green eyes of his so familiar. She had seen them somewhere else before she just couldn’t remember where exactly. It wasn’t just a feeling that ‘I met you once on the street but I remember you because you’re gorgeous’, it was more like ‘we don’t know each other but I feel like we have for a really long time.’ 

“Have we met?” Harry was the one to ask that question, and not Y/N, which shocked her even more when she fell out of the maze that was his eyes.

“I would’ve remembered, trust me,” she said, chuckling dryly as her eyes stayed on his.

“Weird...” Harry mumbled to himself, shaking his head then immediately put on a smile. “Well, don’t worry, you’re not fired, and I’m not mad at you for anything that’s happened this morning.”

For some reason she couldn’t explain, Y/N knew that smile wasn’t sincere. There was something bothering this man and he was just so used covering up his emotions that he did it like a pro. He couldn’t fool her though.

However, she didn’t say anything about that, and just smiled back at him. “Thank you so much. I can’t lose another job again.”

“Again?” Harry looked at her, quite amused. “You’ve been fired before.”

“I wasn’t fired, I quit my last job...But I’m sure you’re not interested in my boring life stories.”

“I am interested,” he told her without pause. “Why don’t we go somewhere later and you tell me about that awful job that you quit? If we’re going to be working close to each other, we should get to know each other, right?”

“You sure? Because in the schedule Jeff sent me—”

“That’s my schedule, I can cancel any plan I want. Jeff’s my manager, not my boss.”

“But he’s mine.”

Harry chuckled while shaking his head no. “He’s not, I am. He can’t fire you unless I tell him too.”

“That’s powerful.” The words slipped out before Y/N can stop her lips. “Shit...did I just say that?”

Her face scrunched up in embarrassment when Harry let out a slight laugh. “It’s okay, I like you already. I think we’re gonna be a good team.”

“Hope so.” Y/N looked up as her eyes sparkled with joy. “Shall we go now?”

“No, the doctor told me to keep you here for an hour.”

“I’m fine now, just ignore the doctor.” She snorted then just walked right past Harry to the nearest exit. 

He stayed at the same spot, watching her marching down the hall with his mouth agape, then when she noticed he wasn’t following her she stopped and turned around, looking all confused.

“What are you waiting for? Hurry!”

Harry snapped back to reality as he heard the sound of her voice. Then he shrugged off the foreign feeling in the pit of his stomach and ran forward to catch up with his new assistant. 

[purple-possibilities]

Hi :3 ✩ for Madara/Kakashi or maybe Sakumo/Orochimaru if You like that one :) Have a nice day! You're awesome!

Aww thank you!!! You’re too sweet!

I am contractually obliged to do this for MadaKaka lol. I don’t actually really ship Orochimaru with anyone, and Sakumo I didn’t ship with anyone until @sloaners started posting all that Kaguya/Sakumo stuff that I never knew I needed lol. But anyways, on to the answers!

This is going under a cut because it’s long af like jesus christ.

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice?

Madara, 100% the man barely has an inside voice as it is.

Who threatens to leave but never actually does?

Madara did, only once.  Kakashi thought he was serious and it was a whole Thing™.  He has since stopped saying things like “why am I with you?” and “what did i do to deserve falling in love with someone as terrible as you?” because he realised Kakashi took that waaaayyy too seriously.

Who actually keeps their word and leaves?

Kakashi.  Not because of their disagreement, but because he honestly thinks Madara is better off without him.  Madara has had to chase the bastard down more than once to convince him that there’s no one else Madara could ever want.

Who trashes the house?

Madara, definitely.  He’s a table flipper when really angry.  Kakashi will let his ninken chew Madara’s sandals if Madara is being an asshole (because he’s passive aggressive like that).  Madara’s belongings might go missing, or end up in strange places as well.

Do either of them get physical?

I mean, they’re ninja, so yeah, totally.  But not in a domestic abuse sort of way.  Just, they start arguing and then it turns into sparring, which later turns into sparring, if you know what I mean….

How often do they argue/disagree?

about petty things?  All the time.  More because Kakashi likes to make Madara angry, and because Madara is kind of tsundere, so it’s just so easy for almost anything to get him mad.  But when it comes to serious matters, they’re both surprisingly good at talking that kind of stuff out.  Mostly because they both look at their problems from a strategic POV, and can separate their emotions from what’s going on.

Who is the first to apologise?

Depends on who’s in the wrong, and if feelings were hurt.  Typically, that means Madara, since Kakashi doesn’t really get angry.  Kakashi’s way of dealing with an argument is to disappear, so that means it’s typically up to Madara to hunt Kakashi down and bring him back home.  Even when Kakashi is mad, instead of banishing Madara to the couch, he’d probably go sleep in a tree somewhere (or hang out with Hashi/Tobi or Tenzou, depending on the era he’s at).

Sex:

Who is on top?

depends. Kakashi is less likely to care either way, but they’re both good with either position.  It depends more on who initiates, and the mood they’re in.

Who is on the bottom?

…this is essentially the same question.  Also depends.  

Who has the strangest desires?

like, kinks?  Idk they’re ninja they both get up to strange things, but nothing I’d consider too weird (tho like, I don’t really know how to measure what other people would find weird…)

Any kinks?

oh yeah.  Orgasm denial followed by over stimulation.  Maybe a bit of exhibitionism.  Kakashi likes to watch (and Madara realises he does too, when there’s a Kakashi!bunshin in play…).  Kakashi has a praise kink (tho he’d never admit to it) but luckily Madara’s dirty talk mostly consists of praise so it works.  Kakashi probably also likes to be degraded, but Madara does not want to degrade him, so that doesn’t happen.  Madara has a clothing kink too, and it’s all Kakashi’s fault.

Who’s dominant in bed?

depends!!! They’re more a ‘bring sparring to the bedroom’ couple; Kakashi likes to tease, and Madara feels like he needs to get the upper hand.  But once they trust each other more, they might be willing to indulge the other and submit a bit.

Is head ever in the equation?

oh yeah

If so, who is better at performing it?

that’s hard to say (no pun intended lol).  They have very different techniques.  Madara takes it as a matter of pride to see how fast and how hard he can make Kakashi come (and how loud he can make Kakashi scream).  Kakashi is a tease and will stay down there until Madara can’t take it anymore.

Ever had sex in public?

…define public lol.  In public spaces, sure.  Outside?  Definitely.  In view of someone else?  Nope, never, not allowed.

Who moans the most?

depends on what’s going down!  Madara is typically louder tho.

Who leaves the most marks?

Madara 100% no question.  He likes to know that under all the clothing Kakashi wears, he’s covered in love bites.  Tho Kakashi leaves his fair share (those high collar shirts are not just fashionable lol).

Who screams the loudest?

9/10 Madara (it takes a special something to make Kakashi loud).

Who is the more experienced of the two?

I like to hc Kakashi as a virgin before he gets into a relationship, so Madara, but only just barely (and that’s because I seem him as the kind of guy who would have been to a pleasure house or two…)

Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’?

both.  definitely both.  both is good.

Rough or soft?

both again!  More often rough, at least at first.  Can be soft and lazy and loving tho, depending on how things are initiated.

How long do they usually last?

DEPENDS!  Both are busy, so lots of quickies.  But if they have the time to spare they can go for a looooong time.

Is protection used?

no, but that’s because they’re exclusive and clean and neither can get pregnant but if even one of those does not apply to you, use a condom goddamn it!!!! #safesex

Does it ever get boring?

nope.

Where is the strangest place they’d have sex?

mmmm, probably on the Hokage monument lol.

Family:

Do your muses plan on having children/or have children?

if this is taking place back when Madara is clan head, then yeah he needs to have kids.  If it’s in Kakashi’s time Madara might be pressured by the Elders to make more Crazy Eye Babies, but he prob won’t want to.  Kakashi is prob pressured into having kids by the council as well.  Tbh it’s a ninja village they’re all probs pressured into having kids but Madara and Kakashi especially.  Kakashi doesn’t really want kids, they’re a lot of trouble.  But if he somehow ended up with kids I think he’d enjoy being the biggest Troll Dad ever, of all time.

If so, how many children do your muses want/have?

I can see Madara wanting to have like four or five, just because he had so many siblings and he would want his kids to have that experience.  Kakashi wants only one, but then that one grows up a bit and he wants another, and then the second gets a little older and he wants another…

Who is the favorite parent?

Neither.  Madara is strict and Kakashi is soooo embarrassing omg he’s the worst.  Kakashi has his ninken help out with babysitting.  The kids prefer the ninken.

Who is the authoritative parent?

Madara is more likely to talk about the rules and give long winded lectures, but Kakashi will not let his kids get away with anything (tho he sees it more as training.  If you can trick me then you can get away with it sort of deal).

Who is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school?

Kakashi, definitely.  If the kids have a day off, Madara makes them train lol.  There are no breaks when your father is Uchiha Madara.

Who lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around?

Kakashi for sure, but only if they’ve had one healthy meal already.  No all day junk.  Madara thinks sweets make you weak, but he also can’t cook, so when he’s in charge of dinner it’s like, sliced veggies, sandwiches, or takeout (with sliced veggies lol).  Maybe cold leftovers, unless one of the kids is better at using the stove than Madara lol.

Who turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children?

both are pretty busy, but they both put aside time to train with the kids, and to do fun things

Who goes to parent teacher interviews?

Madara needs to go and always ends up frightening the teachers.  Kakashi will pretend he isn’t listening just to make the teacher mad.  Teachers hate them.

Who changes the diapers?

both, tho Kakashi will try to get out of it by saying his nose is too sensitive.

Who gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby?

Kakashi.  He’s already up from nightmares, it’s soothing to see the baby.

Who spends the most time with the children?

depends.  If this is a Founders!AU then probably Kakashi since he’s less busy.  If this is in Kakashi’s time when he’s Hokage, then Madara since he’s less busy.  Tho I can see them both taking their kids to work.

Who packs their lunch boxes?

both.  They are very healthy lunches either way.  Kakashi will have to cook, but Madara is pretty good at making/arranging pretty bentos.  He’s good with a knife.  He makes the cutest food (but never mention it unless you’re his child he will show you just what he can do with a kunai).

Who gives their children ‘the talk’?

Kakashi hands the kids Icha Icha when they’re like, fourteen, and calls it a day.  Madara confiscates the books and gives the world’s most uncomfortable and confusing explanation of the birds and the bees.  Gods help everyone in the family if they have daughters.  Someone save the children!

Who cleans up after the kids?

Madara is the dad that will stand next to a mess and start yelling through the house until the person responsible comes by and cleans it up.  If none of the kids take responsibility, then they all have to clean it up.  Kakashi will tidy up almost unthinkingly, but the kids will get in trouble for it later.  Unless they’re really young and like, can’t, in which case both clean up messes when they see them.  They’re both neat freaks.

Who worries the most?

Madara expresses his worry the most, but Kakashi gets anxiety as soon as he can’t see his kids.  Sometimes he gets anxious if he can’t easily reach out to grab them immediately.  He hides it really well tho, and can come off as cold.

Who are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from?

Izuna. Or Naruto, if in Kakashi’s time.  Neither Madara or Kakashi really swear, but if I had to choose one, probably Madara after burning dinner lol.

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle?

both, tho neither will admit it.  Lots of standing really close to each other haha

Who is the little spoon?

Neither.  They don’t spoon.  Usually they’ll sleep face to face, tangled up in each other’s limbs, or pressed back to back if they don’t feel safe where they’re sleeping.  Spooning only happens if they were having sex in that position, but it doesn’t last.

Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places?

Kakashi.  Such a tease.  Will usually initiate just to see Madara go red.

Who struggles to keep their hands to themself?  

Neither.  They both have great self control.  If there’s touching going on, it’s very purposeful lol.

How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable?

Neither is good at just sitting and cuddling.  Unless you count leaning back to back as cuddles, in which case they’re good at that… after a while.  They can both fall asleep while holding each other too.

Who gives the most kisses?

they’re not casual kissers.  Kakashi might peck Madara on the cheek if he’s being a tease and wants to see Madara go red.  Madara is more likely to start a make-out sess tho.  Madara also likes to kiss during sex.  Something about Kakashi’s lips always being covered… Madara is a perv who has a clothing kink

What is their favourite non-sexual activity?

Kakashi likes to bother Madara until he gets angry.  Madara says he hates it but he loves the attention (since Kakashi is so stingy with it).  They both have problems, obviously.

Where is their favourite place to cuddle?

bed.  Almost all cuddles happen in bed or post sex (which could be anywhere but like, bed is where most of the cuddles happen).

Who is more likely to playfully grope the other?

Kakashi for sure.  Madara will try to retaliate but he gets more flustered by touching Kakashi than Kakashi gets by being touched haha.

How often do they get time to themselves?

both are pretty busy, but they often work together or in the same room.

Sleeping:

Who snores?

neither, they’re both elite ninja and if they ever did snore, it’s been trained out of them

If both do, who snores the loudest?

Do they share a bed or sleep separately?

they share a bed, no doubt lol

If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart?

they’re touching, either front to front or back to back

Who talks in their sleep?

Neither

What do they wear to bed?

nothing no that’s a lie they’re paranoid and always prepared for anything, so Kakashi is wearing his jounin pants and the tight undershirt plus mask.  Madara is more likely to sleep in a yukata.  Both have weapons on them at all times.

Are either of your muses insomniacs?

mmmm, Kakashi wakes up a lot from nightmares.  Both have been trained to sleep even in terrible conditions tho so they can force their bodies to sleep.

Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside?

no way in hell these paranoid bastards are going to use sleeping pills

Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side?

both

Who wakes up with bed hair?

BOTH!!!! So much bedhead in this relationship.

Who wakes up first?

Kakashi will wake up from nightmares but will fall back asleep.  Madara usually wakes up earlier in the morning tho.

Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other?

Madara would but he can barely cook.  Maybe he’ll bring some sliced fruit/yogurt/cereal/something that doesn’t require heat lol.  Kakashi is better at making breakfast but would never do something so obviously affectionate like bring Madara breakfast in bed (it’s so much more fun to do other things in bed…)

What is their favourite sleeping position?

front to front or back to back

Who hogs the sheets?

Kakashi will just to be a brat.  Madara will retaliate by stealing them back.  If they both end up tangled in the sheets and each other, well, I guess they’ll just have to sleep like that.

Do they set an alarm each night?

no need they wake up when they need to

Can a television be found in their bedroom?

nope.  If it’s the past then they don’t exist, and even in the future neither really watch tv.

Who has nightmares?

Kakashi more often but Madara does too.

Who has ridiculous dreams?

Madara will occasionally have a weird dream, but it’s rare for him to remember his dreams at all.  If Kakashi is not having a nightmare then his dreams are hilarious.

Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed?

Kakashi will, just to be an asshole, but he actually takes up just enough space for his body to fit.  Kakashi will take up more space in the beginning of the relationship to force Madara to cuddle him or fall off the bed lol.

Who makes the bed?

both, usually whoever leaves the bed last.  

What time is bed time?

whenever they can be dragged away from work

Any routines/rituals before bed?

Kakashi reads.  Madara actually brushes his hair.  I know, I didn’t believe it either.

Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up?

Madara is always grumpier than Kakashi, but not any more grumpy in the morning than he is at any other time, does that count?

Work:

Who is the busiest?

depends! Past!Madara and Hokage!Kakashi

Who rakes in the highest income?

see above.

Are any of your muses unemployed?

Future!Madara might be

Who takes the most sick days?

Neither, tho Kakashi plays hookie a lot.

Who is more likely to turn up late to work?

Kakashi of course

Who sucks up to their boss?

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

What are their jobs?

ninja, obvi

Who stresses the most?

Madara tho he won’t admit to it.  He just gets increasingly irritable.

Do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations?

yep.

Are your muses financially stable?

they’re rich, bitch!

Home:

Who does the washing?

they do their own washing

Who takes out the trash?

whoever sees it’s full

Who does the ironing?

idk if their clothing is ever ironed but if necessary they do their own

Who does the cooking?

Madara could burn air, so that means it’s up to Kakashi, or takeout

Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying?

Madara has exploded the kitchen multiple times

Who is messier?

they’re both neat freaks

Who leaves the toilet roll empty?

neither

Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor?

neither

Who forgets to flush the toilet?

neither

Who is the prankster around the house?

100% Kakashi, Madara doesn’t know how to prank, he’s just mean.

Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere?

neither tho if anything is “lost” it’s because Kakashi took it when Madara wasn’t looking

Who mows the lawn?

whoever is less busy

Who answers the telephone?

Madara, so long as he’s not working (and there are phones to be answered lol).  Kakashi will avoid all human contact if possible.  If you want to get a message to Kakashi, send an animal.

Who does the vacuuming?

both

Who does the groceries?

Kakashi, mostly because he cooks so he knows what they need.  Madara will buy things if he wants Kakashi to make him something in particular.

Who takes the longest to shower?

Madara, is this even a question??? Have you seen that hair?  Probably takes half an hour just to condition that b.  He can shower really fast if he needs to tho.  Ninja magic and all that.

Who spends the most time in the bathroom?

Madara, if he’s trying to tame his hair.  Or impress Kakashi.  Otherwise they’re both pretty fast.  

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem?

they’re rich, bitch.

How many cars do they own?

none because there ain’t no ninja cars

Do they own their home or do they rent?

In the past, Madara owns the clan house.  In the future, Kakashi ends up in the Hokage mansion which technically the village owns.  They eventually buy a house together when his tenure is over.

Do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside?

they live in the village hidden in the leaves so… wherever that is.

Do they live in the city or in the country?

see above lol

Do they enjoy their surroundings?

both love the village, tho in the future, being there is bittersweet for Madara

What’s their song?

I don’t think I can choose one for them since they exist in a world where none of the music i listen to exists lol

What do they do when they’re away from each other?

if it’s for a mission or something, they both pine and pout and are typically grumpier/moodier/broodier. If it’s just by choice they’re both fine with alone time (they both need it tbh let’s be real) 

Where did they first meet?

on the battlefield (regardless of the time lol)

How did they first meet?

on opposite sides of a war (regardless of the time lol)

Who spends the most money when out shopping?

Kakashi is pretty frugal.  Madara likes nice things but won’t splurge (unless he’s showing off in which case he can go a little ham with his money).

Who’s more likely to flash their assets?

Madara is not afraid to show some skin.  Kakashi is covered head to toe but he knows that taking off even just one (1) glove is enough to get Madara sweating.

Who finds it amusing when the other trips over?

Kakashi is a little shit.

Any mental issues?

ohhhhh yeah.   Entire lifetimes full.

Who’s terrified of bugs?

neither (tho Kakashi has probably gotten fleas a few times lbr)

Who kills the spiders around the house?

both

Their favourite place?

Kakashi has his hidey-holes.  Madara likes to be where Kakashi is.

Who pays the bills?

both

Do they have any fears for their future?

they fear the other’s death

Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner?

Madara will try.  If the food is edible, it’s takeout.

Who uses up all of the hot water?

Madara showers longer, but Kakashi will drain the hot water just to get on Madara’s nerves if Kakashi is upset with him.

Who’s the tallest?

Kakashi is 181 cm (so 5′11.25″) and Madara is like 179 cm (5′10.5′’) so Kakashi.

Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other?

Kakashi.  Esp if Madara is taking a while.

Who wanders around in their underwear?

Madara for sure.  You can bet he’s trying to show off, or grab Kakashi’s attention (it’s working, but Kakashi has an amazing poker face/is great at hiding behind Icha Icha.)

Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio?

neither sings

What do they tease each other about?

Kakashi will tease Madara about anything.  Madara is terrible at teasing (it comes across as threatening lol).  If Madara ever finds out how embarrassed Kakashi gets while reading Icha Icha out loud tho… RIP Kakashi.

Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times?

neither, they both dress very professionally (and blandly tbh)

Do they have mutual friends?

HASHIRAMAAAAA lol.  That’s it tho that’s Madara’s only friend aside from his brother (and Izuna kinda sorta hates Kakashi for being an “eye thief,” tho they get closer later.  Still not really friends tho).

Who crushed first?

Madara for sure, though it took him a while to realise it.  Kakashi took forever.  Like literally ages.  Poor Madara…

Any alcohol or substance related problems?

nope!

Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am?

Kakashi, esp if he was out with Gai.  Madara if he was out with Hashirama.  Tho if it’s the two of them out together they’re probably both drunk.

Who swears the most?

neither really swears, but Madara will if he’s really frustrated.

Goddamn, that took waaaayyyyy longer than I thought it would lol!  This felt like a marathon.  It was fun tho!

Send me ✩ and a ship

[bigmoodword]

11/11/11 Tag

tagged by @silver-wields-a-pen -- thanks a bunch! this was so thought-provoking.

1. Who is your favourite oc? 

probably a toss-up between the two oldest:

a werewolf who hides his cold-burning hate behind a sweet smile and endless offers to make bitchin’ cups of tea/coffee/poison/cocoa

an immortal with unhealthy escapist tendencies, livin’ that long life as if EXTRA is their personal motto

at this point, they’ve run through several names each. here’s hoping i finally set 'em in stone sooner rather than later.

2. What themes do you struggle writing? 

healthy, established romance. i can do flirtation and doomed relationships, but actually solid relationships are a whole different beast. it’s kind of funny, because although there are plenty of problems to work through even in the best relationship, i have a tendency to tidy them with too nice a bow. lucky me, that’s my life experience, but it doesn’t make for the most engaging story.

3. What’s been the best thing about writing your wip?

striking creative oil. it’s wonderful to be so enamored with an idea that all my doubts dissipate and the words just... flow. it’s a feeling i remember from childhood, and it’s a relief to know it can still strike.

4. What themes has your favourite story included? 

survivor’s guilt. betrayal. missed opportunities. miscommunication. learning to let go. learning how to love oneself. abuse. wearing a mask. class struggles. systemic oppression. the importance of hope--whatever that ultimately means for you.

honestly, these tend to pop up in all my stories to varying degrees.

5. What time of day do you prefer writing?

i tend to switch between the night owl and early bird approaches. the former pops up when i’m on a serious roll, the latter when i’ve hit a rhythm of jotting down a few hundred words over coffee.

6. What’s your favourite relationship trope to write? 

a very specific kind of unrequited love. like the two are this 👌 close to actually coming together--they’d honestly be pretty great!--except they fail to communicate mutual interest so each assumes the other isn’t. or maybe they’re too preoccupied with their own issues to have a good relationship, so temptations aside, one or both decide it’s better to pass. it’s the idea of “maybe in another life” or “if only we’d met x years ago or y years from now.” can’t get enough of it!

7. What detail about your ocs has surprised you? 

they’re all so messed up. i mean. granted, most of them are born by taking a personality flaw (whether my own or one i struggle to understand) to a certain extreme, but even those that start on an even keel inevitably hit a significant low point. i think it’s an extension of the idea “everybody’s got something” but i hope someday i can manage to have a character that’s both interesting and well-adjusted throughout.

8. Thoughts on including romance in other genres? 

i’m ace, so romance often misses the mark for me. the fact my favorite romantic trope is two people not ending up together probably says a lot on its own. more specifically, unless the romance really adds to the wider story, i prefer it in the background. i think of certain characters flirting and growing closer as sprinkles atop the main plot’s cupcake.

9. Favourite writing snack? 

coffee! i don’t tend to snack much in general, especially not when writing, but i’m always game to break out the bean juice.

10. Favourite villain trope? 

the anti-villain. as a huge “fan” of gray morality, i guess that’s pretty darn predictable. while obviously i’m not here to root for villains, i like to understand them. i think it’s important to recognize how an otherwise good person becomes villainous, and i also have a certain affection for reformed villains. j/s

11. Best scene you’ve written? 

oooo. that’s a good one. i’m not comfortable calling anything my “best” scene, but i tend to favor those where major plot points finally intersect. here’s one i still quite like--

background: urban fantasy, slayer organization, investigation into a recently caught perp

trigger warning: implied sexual abuse

Sven didn’t bother returning Nina’s call until he was in the werewolf’s ritzy apartment, and when she picked up, she immediately reported how the guy had copped to lying throughout his first interview.

As he examined the titles in the bookcases, Sven figured that meant his perp was smart enough to recognize a boon. The asshole who’d put him in a wheelchair had also thrown him a softball cover story, and if he played along, his pack wouldn’t get hurt. Lucky puppy.

Yet Nina remained skeptical. She specified how Nate—that beacon of truth—had caught the werewolf talking on the sly about a little friend. He wouldn’t just make that up, so of course she expected him to search high and low for any proof. Just in case.

He promised he’d do his best then sat cross-legged before the shelves. He put the phone on speaker, set it on a dizzyingly ornate rug, and began pulling books out. One by one, he’d flip robotically through the pages, looking for anything of note.

Meanwhile, Nina’s voice lost its authoritarian edge, “What was up before?”

“Nothing important. Just a guy. Lonely. Works at the hotel.” Having said the words, he tried not to picture her growing smirk. “One thing led to another and…”

“Good for you.” A pause. “Hey. Hey, Sven. Was he cute?”

“Quite.”

“'Quite.’” He could hear her rolling her eyes. “And? Did you, well, have a good time?”

“Debatably.”

“Huh.” Nina thought aloud, “See, you were awfully mad at me when I called you before. That would imply that you were, in fact, having a good time. Otherwise, you would’ve appreciated the excuse, right? Right. But you didn’t. Since we’re talking about you, that means something.”

He snorted.

“Really! It does, and I hope you didn’t just run this poor guy off, you know? You should try meeting up again. Do a little wine and dine. Something nice. Classy. You have that red sweater that looks nice; you should wear that.”

Sven looked down at said sweater. “… Right. Well, I gave him my number, so we’ll—”

“Damn, Sven! He must’ve been really cute!”

He remembered Drake’s anxious wiggling and cracked a smile. “Yeah, he was pretty damn cute.”

Bit by bit, he shared details, and Nina nearly blew out his phone’s speaker with a squeal. She insisted others would give up their firstborn for the kind of porno romance he apparently lived, and her office chair creaked as she huffed a triumphant sigh. She was so animated about the whole thing, as if it’d happened to her instead of him, and however briefly, he thought maybe he felt a fluttering of that same enthusiasm. He wanted to, anyway. 

Even after hanging up, something twisted in his gut every time he thought about Drake calling or, hell, simply sending a three-letter text. But realistically, that was as likely to be dread as giddiness.

With pen and pad, Sven made notes about bookmarked passages as well as the odd comment in the margins, then restored each book to its original slot. Likewise, he compiled the contents of drawers, filing cabinets, and closets. He’d come prepared to scrub the evidence, but apparently, the evidence already suggested the werewolf lived alone. 

There were no articles of clothing that deviated from the rest of his wardrobe. The master bath featured a single toothbrush, and the kitchen just enough rotting food to feed a particularly voracious adult male. He couldn’t even find a hair that wasn’t deep brown and short.

He bagged a phone and tablet for further examination, then muttered to himself about how he really should’ve done at least that much beforehand. That is, the first time he visited the apartment, but no. He’d made his catch, handed the perp off, and disappeared for a long run in the Boston fog like a coward.

To be fair, the place still gave him the creeps. It bothered him that the overturned furniture, smashed vase, and cracked mirror were all exactly where he’d left them. There were blood stains too. Deep brown and foul.

In a small safe, he found jewelry, yellowed woodcuts, and a first edition copy of Leaves of Grass. Extraordinary, sure. Cataloged, absolutely. Yet, save for the werewolf’s budding psych profile, such finds were also woefully meaningless.

He moved on to the lockbox dug out from under the king-sized bed. As with the safe, he was able to pop it open without too much difficulty, but unlike the safe, its contents raised eyebrows. 

Polaroids. Hundreds of them aggressively rubber-banded into tidy stacks, all meticulously sorted. He held his breath as he unwrapped the first only to exhale a bitter “of course” at the revealed photos.

The shots lacked faces. Just bodies. All slender. All male. All dubiously legal. Twisted. Bound. Violated. Every single one manipulated with an escalating ingenuity. Clearly, the werewolf considered it an art-form. 

After that first stack, Sven quickly flipped through the others. He was convinced the whole stash was worthless. None of the subjects had tattoos, piercings, or any significant scarring. No one depicted could be reasonably identified. He was wasting his time.

But he had to make sure, and the deeper he waded, the more his shoulders tensed, the more he felt walls close in. He caught himself listening for heavy footsteps outside the door.

Childish. At its heart, it was all so childish. 

And pointless.

Then he found a stack with a face. He found Drake.

My questions

1. Who was your first OC? 2. What was the first story you ever wrote? 3. What book (or other piece of media) has most inspired you? 4. How do you fight writer’s block? 5. What is your favorite genre to write in and why? 6. How would you describe your writing style? 7. In general, do you think you’d get along with your protagonists? 8. What do you love most about your WIPs? 9. What is your favorite character trope? 10. What is your least favorite character trope? 11. What’s an upcoming scene you’re excited to write? Tagging: @mvcreates ; @whataremetaphor ; @phloxxiing ; @gaytivity ; @jessica-shouldbewriting ; @oyef ; @blurrywhitelies ; @savannahscripts ; @imaghostwriter ; @quilloftheclouds ; @maabon

[migleefulmoments]

Did I make her mad?

I seem to have ruffled Ajw’s feather. I left her a message- always anon or she won’t read them. I know this because used my username for years and they are ignored. So here we are with a LONG response to her answer.  

It started here: The CCers tried to change the history of Darren and Mia *you can read their entire exchange here* 

But here is the part I was responding to: 

ajw720

Agreed light bearding started April 2011, heavy bearding when they moved her to LA in Fall 2012.  In between I do think they considered other, more famous options but went with her as she is the only person that they could “prove” pre-C. And the CC relationship was their major obstacle and the thing they knew they had to hide to make D straight.

This being said, the article is WRONG if they are following the PR narrative that says they started to date in June 2010 and that is what the “7 ½ crazy and adventurous years came from.”  A narrative that was spun in 2015.

M herself would love to claim college as she is desperate to say Not Alone is about her.

So yes, it is likely they “met” in college, but I doubt it was more than a night out at a bar at most.

So I asked her: 

Come on, you know there are several public pics of M and D together before his "Blaine' audition hair cut. IDK if you have been in a serious relationship but how it works is you start out seeing each there occasionally and then as you get closer and fall more in love you start doing more and more together until you get married. Being in a long distance relationship means that can all take a little longer. Going out more publicly AFTER she moved & over time is how that works.

My responses to her comments are in Italics:

Dearest Michigan,

I really do make an effort to ignore you and your nonsense, but I just could not resist. I know on your blog you have questioned my credentials, well I must say, I question yours and I highly recommend you enroll in a grammar school level reading comprehension program. I have two master’s degrees and undergrad from Michigan, but thanks for the advice.  First, who is disagreeing that they knew each other pre-g/lee?  That is a fact, a fact i state often and frequently and no one that I have encountered here who has any knowledge refutes this fact. Yet you keep repeating this like we are unaware, both in this ask, and in your absolutely comical analysis of the handshake completely based on the the false premise that we think this is when M&D met. Please stop putting words in our mouths and READ critically.

Well let me leave just a couple of receipts as to why I keep saying that: 

This exchange on 11/20 regarding the Trevor Live 2012 video that they have claimed over and over shows Michael introducing Mia and Darren and Darren shakes her hand.  I proved that is not what happened here . 

1.  flowersintheattic254

I’ve never seen this video before and wondered if anyone else new here had? Apologies for putting her on your dash, but it’s useful to have a gentle reminder that this is and always was a business arrangement.  Watch them shake hands under the watchful eye PR at Trevor 2012 and D proceed to ignore her. #because most people shake hands with their SO right 9/ 

2. Anonymous asked:

So glad theTrevor clip exists. That’s my go to when people ask for proof. They had been “together” for 2 yrs. Question on the timing. Does this coincide with the “confirmation” date when D was so upset in Canada?

ajw: Hi anon, this was December, confirmation day in Toronto was the following June.  But no question, they had moved her to LA and the choice to make her full-time beard and to completely oppress CC had been made.  This was right after the BU episode of G/lee, a plot conceived to keep D&C apart.  Not a pleasant time in their lives and when everything really changed.

3. ajw: article is WRONG if they are following the PR narrative that says they started to date in June 2010 and that is what the “7 ½ crazy and adventurous years came from.”  A narrative that was spun in 2015.

4. Hi anon.  That is likely the correct answer.  Her friend dated Jo/e W when they were in college and I believe she maybe visited U of M one weekend.

That being said, to be clear, if they met then, and it is not 100% substantiated, they went to different schools, located in different parts of the country and she graduated before them. They didn’t start dating in college and I would guess they did not keep in touch. The real connection was later when Ch/uck and C/harlene were friendly with her in NYC after they all graduated.  And that is how she was chosen to be the beard, the worst decision D ever made.

Second, I am not disputing that from 2010-2011 it was sort of low key, though by April 2011 she was already being speculated about in JJ with pap pics, so maybe we can say it quickly went from low to mid-key.

Yes, this is how relationships work. You meet, you may not start dating right away. Eventually you start talking...maybe a date or two- they were long distance so likely much more talking. Fly to see one another...a few dates... more talking... more flying until she moved to LA. Nothing inconsistent about the story. They started out long distance so there is no doubt the “start date” is debatable to them. 

However, she was moved to LA in the fall of 2012 and from that moment forward there was nothing low or mid key about this.  That was SIX, count them (unless you need basic math classes as well) SIX years ago. Therefore, a publication CANNOT state that they have been low key dating since 2010. That is a boldface lie. They could say perhaps “they started out under the radar and have since decided to share” but NOT that it has been low key since 2010.

No, no it isn’t a bold face lie. It is literally how REAL LIFE relationships work..you know the unscripted ones. It’s their relationship and THEY get to say when they actually started dating. You could probably win an argument that the fandom didn't KNOW they were dating until 2012, ya know, if you REALLY just need to win.   

Since 2012 she has accompanied him to approximately 75% of all of his events, her picture is taken constantly, her image is videoed, her SM is full of him, and recently his SM contains her face. Their “friends” and family talk about them on their public SM constantly, She has been interviewed about him (remember when she claimed she never wanted to be associated with someone famous), and she is mentioned in D’s press constantly and has been for YEARS.

I will say this slowly.  They. Are. Engaged.  It is normal for her to be with him at events. As many events as they want to attend together. People like love; people like beautiful couples. Photographers and fans are going to take pictures of a beautiful couple in love. Interviewers are going to talk about the engagement and the wedding. It’s we do in America. The problem is you don’t like it. But I’m 100% sure that Darren didn’t ask you for permission. He doesn’t care what you think.. 

Her friends and family post about them constantly? Everyone’s family talks about family constantly. I’m sure YOUR family talk about you. It’s literally what social media is for- bragging about your kids and perfect life, posting naked belly shots in the gym, and connecting with family and friends. I know you talk about your family on Tumblr and you post your cats and your wine on Tumblr.  How does Mia or Darren or their family have less right than you do? I don’t follow the logic and as you say you're a lawyer, I really don’t follow you.  Everyone gets to pick what they want to post on their own social media...that is the rule. 

As for that article...Mia claimed she never wanted-PAST TENSE- to be with someone famous; it wasn’t something she imagined for herself. That isn’t the same as saying she doesn’t currently want to be with Darren who become famous after they fell in love. I will avoid ridiculing you about your lack of basic English grammar skills. 

Yes, she is mentioned in Darren’s press...so what? They are a couple. This is isn’t hard.      

So I am unclear why you are asking me about how a relationship works? I certainly understand how it works.  

Relationships dear michigan are based on love, friendship, and respect, Three fundamental things missing from the mi/arren relationshit.

Couples KNOW when they met and how long ago it was. But not mi/arren. Was it college?  Don Hi/ll’s? In NYC pre-g/lee?  They don’t know, but they will be sure to twist the answer each and every time asked. (D actually looked shocked when she said college). But you know what D knows in precise detail?  His mandate, when he went to see S/utton F/oster, a story he has recounted approximately  5 times, with g/olden g/lobe winning, NY T/imes best selling author C/hris C/olfer (his constant tribute not mine).

I already outlined how long distance relationships work and there is a vague, nebulous start date. But I also suspect that Darren, who does value his privacy, doesn’t really care to share those kind of details with us. So he gives vague, unimportant responses to that question. There is also the fact that journalists and bloggers do research and don’t always ask every question they cover in an interview. Sometimes they use their research to fill in facts- this can lead to perpetuating something that isn’t 100% accurate but Darren doesn’t care to call them out or correct it because it isn't our business. 

As for your mandate. Haven’t you figured out that it is the only Chris Glee story Darren is allowed to share without upsetting Chris? He keeps repeating it because it’s out there already. “Chris hates when you talk about him” so he keeps repeating the same story to feed the Glee nostalgia without getting him upset. Again, this isn’t hard. 

Couples know how long they have been dating.  Not m/iarren and you would THINK after the encage announcement they would stick to the very public timeline created, yet they don’t. She actually wants you to think they started dating in college, years before 2010.

Nobody cares when they started dating. I couldn't tell you when my husband and I started dating- there are times I can’t remember how many years we have been married or what year we got married- It isn’t important to all people. It means NOTHING in the big scope of the day-to-day struggles of being married and raising kids, and struggling with chronic disabling illnesses that we deal with in our kids. Love isn’t a Disney Prince meets Princess sweeps her offer feet and they live Happily Ever After cuz now she’s a Princess.  It isn’t Instagram perfection of big dates, huge romantic gestures and huge diamonds. It’s living with someone and negotiating who does what chores; who cooks and who cleans up dinner; who is taking the kid to PT or the doctor appt that is 3 hours away this week; it’s washing his dirty underwear and getting a puke bucket when the flu hits. It’s missing him because he is gone half the month flying FedEx packages to Dubai, India and China while I am single parenting a lot. In most people’s lives, the date they started dating isn’t that important after you get through a few. Those moments become less important.  

When one proposes to their partner after “7 ½ crazy and adventurous years” I would hope they would know the person well enough to buy them a ring that they would love and cherish. And in turn I would hope the recipient loved the ring, even if not their dream, because it is a symbol of love and devotion. Not mi/arren, D apparently got in wrong FOUR times as she is now wearing ring number FIVE, an indisputable fact.  And no, multimillionaire D did not buy FOUR place holders.

You have very childlike ideas of what relationships and engagements are like.  I haven’t worn a wedding ring in years, nobody cares. Mia wore one engagement ring from January to January- she added other rings to the stack at times which seems to have confused you that it was different rings. I saw your picture proof  and those are all the same diamond ring. She just got a beautiful ring on GG night. My GUESS would be that they designed the new ring together. Couples do that. Some couples get engaged long before there is a ring. None of this is “abnormal”...there is no “normal”. But even if she did have 5 rings...who cares? It means NOTHING to us. They get to do what they want and THAT is an indisputable fact. 

Generally partners don’t run in front of the other constantly when they think they aren’t being filmed. D runs ahead of her constantly as documented many, many times. And notice how he ALWAYS tries to correct it when he sees the camera. They also aren’t afraid to touch their partner (D constantly avoids it, remember Op/eration S/mile when he was caught on film hiding his hand behind his bag to avoid touching her?). 

You pick and choose pictures and videos to prove this trope. You and I both know there are many pictures of them waking together. Again, I ask if you have ever been in a long term relationship because after 8 years, nobody is worried about who is walking in front of who. On the red carpet, it is pretty common for the celeb to walk in front of the spouse because everyone wants to see the celeb and not the spouse. Darren is at work on the red carpet. But if you want to hang your hat on THIS being the BIG proof you have that it is all a lie then go for it. If you want to ignore all of the times Darren has said “I love her” and instead fixate on a photo of him standing in front of her....you are only deluding yourself.  

A partner would NEVER try to steal the spotlight from the SO yet M pulls focus constantly despite the fact that it is D who put in the time and effort to receive the accolades he is currently getting.

I honestly can’t with this one.  She only “steals the limelight” with you guys. Darren’s real fans just enjoy pics of them together as the gift that they are as we enjoy everything Darren does. You guys, on the other hand, stalk the internet looking for pictures of her just so you can rage over them; you guys talk about how she steals the spotlight. Nobody, NOBODY could steal the limelight from Darren Criss.  

A partner would respect that their partner has repeatedly stated that he craves privacy. Neither M nor any of their “friends” give two shits about his wishes as he is all over the internet as posted by this group.

This cracks me up because it assumes that Darren has no idea his pictures are being posted...the ones he posed for and the ones that he watched them post seconds later. Nobody is posting photos that Darren doesn’t want posted.  Mia shut down her public social except for very rare red carpet or special events. When you rage about untrue things you sound exactly like Trump “ there is an EMERGENCY AT THE BORDER...drugs...rapists...coyotes.. DEMS WANT OPEN BORDERS”. “DARREN BEGS FOR PRIVACY AND NOBODY RESPECTS THAT”. Both of those statements are complete bullshit. 

A caring fiancee would concede an award show to allow for him to take his mom (d’s express wishes as he voiced on ET. And no if this is corrected it does not count as he called her out in a very public way).

OMG with this one.  An anon pointed out that the one person who DID take his mom to awards shows after age 30 was Kevin Spacey.  Darren took who Darren wanted to take to his first GG as a nominee. Most adults have closer relationships with their lover than their mommy. His mom came to the parties. I don’t see her upset...she looked pretty damn happy hanging with her hubby. 

Mature, wealthy adults in their 30s don’t have another wealthy adult living with them for, and i quote from D himself “many, many years.”  And no B/en didn’t crash on the couch as you have deluded yourself to believe, he fully lived (or lives) there.

Mature, wealthy adults in their 30′s get to decide who lives in their home with them. If you actually do follow Ben on his social, then you know he is rarely in LA for more than a few days. I never said he is sleeps on the couch because I assume he had his own bedroom. 

If I got to meet a music idol and he wanted to move in with me and we could sit around and immerse ourselves in music, I would  be thrilled. In college my roommate, her boyfriend, and I sleep in the same bedroom. They were a couple, I was just a roommate. It’s even more disingenuous that you keep screaming what is and isn’t normal while you claim to be the biggest gay ally in the world. Gay families form in all sorts of combinations and configurations. You need to educate yourself before you proclaim you guys are the biggest bestest Queer Allies around and stop betting hung up on heteronormative 1940′s norms. . 

A loving partner would not constantly mock and ridicule the other publicly, something she has done often (remember that time she called him douchebag on twitter?).  Nor would s/he mock and ridicule his fans and treat them like the lowest form of vermin. particularly if not kissing said person’s ass.

First of all, I believe she was joking though I haven’t seen that tweet in ages. It is super old. Second, people fight. People say horrible things to their lovers. It’s NORMAL.

You have tried to make the “Mia is mean to Darren’s fans” trope into something with as much effort as “THERE IS AN EMERGENCY AT THE BORDER”.  Neither one is sticking. 

A partner that respects their SO doesn’t force them to perform in a bar nearly every single one of his/her days off, when it was evident the man was on the brink of collapsing from exhaustion, as M did for the duration of the summer.

When you say this I always wonder if you EVER ACTUALLY LISTEN to Darren talk...like USING his words, out of his mouth. Because Darren Criss LOVES making music with people. He played outside restaurants at Michigan, he played inside Sava (MI) and Maggianos (CA), he does concerts and he lives for a small venue event. Marie’s Crisis and other piano bars rock his world so he opened one of his own close to home. Darren LOVES TO CONNECT TO OTHER HUMAN BEINGS THROUGH MUSIC. This is something he has said many times, in many interviews. It is sad that you cannot see that-you cannot hear him- and you continue to disparage his joy. When you finally realize that you are wrong about all of this, the one thing that I hope makes you feel the worst is that you have degraded, disparaged, and denigrated two things he loves- Mia and TSG. 

I could go on and on and on about the issues with this horror show, but i will spare my readers.  But I will repeat something i have said often, the ONLY thing to me that would be sadder than reality, would be if this is real. Because they are the OPPOSITE of relationship goals and incredibly toxic as painfully evident in what they have allowed us to see.

I can go on and on as well. It is real and it doesn’t involve you. Your petty, ill-informed, silly conspiracy theorist investigations have created a reality that lives on in your heads. Darren is clearly happy and everyone around him loves him AND Mia. You spend a lot of time and energy wiping away ALL of Darren’s truths in order to keep your fantasy alive. The only toxic relationship Darren has is with the CC fandom. I don’t know his personal life but what I see from my position in MI is a man and woman who are living their best life and a fandom that is trying so hard to hang on to a fantasy that has FAR outlived its useful life. Chris and Darren have no public relationship and if I had to guess after reading STFF,  I would say no relationship at all. Chris has asked you to stop shipping them more than once. Instead of listening you continue to fabricate fictitious stories to explain away every single word out Darren’s mouth and many out of Chris’s. You aren’t “finding the truth” you are CREATING YOUR TRUTH to keep a fantasy alive. Reading Instagram ‘likes’ and looking at song lyrics WHILE IGNORING THE VERY WORDS OUT OF DARREN’S OWN MOUTH is really messed up and very disrespectful. If you really believe that Darren’s public life is a lie than walk away. You have the right to your opinion but you don’t have the right to bully Darren or his family and friends on behalf of that opinion. You don’t have the right to an opinion on the value of his love for Mia. If you don’t like it then you have the right to walk away...not to spread your hate on social media until it gets back to Darren & Mia, and their family and friends. The CC Bullshit that comes directly from YOUR MOUTH was left on Chuck’s baby post for fuck’s sake. That is ALL ON YOU. You claim you don’t post on their social but you have never told your followers to stop and they use your exact words. Chuck and that newborn baby deserved a hell of a lot better than the hate that a CC Family member left. You OWN that. 

Now i beg, please, please, please go back to your own blog where i can blissfully ignore you and leave me alone unless you an actually come back and produce a valid argument.

Nope...as long as you lie, as long as you made ignorant, unsubstantiated and easily disprovable statements, I will be here. Think of me as the New York Times...always giving the folks the well-researched truth. I learned to do research at Michigan. I might not be able to sniff out obscure facts like marriage licenses or who Mia’s mom works for (well mostly because I don’t care) but I can do a damn good job of disproving your tropes because they rely so heavily on misconstrued truths (see my take down of the Fox Studio 7 year contract fact) , outright lies, shortened videos, and photos taken out of context. Also BTW some fact checks: it was CrissColfers who moved into Chris’s neighborhood to terrorize him, NOT Miarrens, in their mission to find proof that Darren was really going to Chris’s home and your anon who mentioned Dot Marie Jone’s wife standing up for Darren and Mia...she is friends with Chris and she was defending Chris and Will NOT Darren and Mia. 

Love,

Me