#I tried to be poetic in last line and am not sure how it went
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u5an5 · 2 years ago
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Guys, we can all agree that Simon and Johnny are fan favorites (I love Alejandro and Rodolfo is my bebe but I'm speaking statistically rn). We can also agree that Ghoap (be it romantic or not) is the most popular relationship in whole mw2 if not in entire cod franchise. They have actual Character Development, they actually like each other, it just makes sense. You can't mistake them with anyone else.
That's why I think we should already be prepared for their death (probably one of them, for dramatic effects. Survivor guilt and stuff like that.).
Now let me explain.
Yes, they're the main characters of mwii. Yes, they're loved by fans. Yes, it will cause outrage in fanbase. Yes it isn't fair that they just gave us characters we love and now they're taking them away.
And?
This is a game about war. War is brutal. War isn't fair. War doesn't discriminate. It kills people, good or bad. Majority of 141 will never live till retirement. They're soldiers - dying is part of this job, risk is always present. It happens.
And sometimes it doesn't have any purpose. "They could live. Their death doesn't change anything, other than them being dead."
And that's why I think it will be mundane. I think it won't have greater purpose. I think it will be entirely avoidable. It won't be fair, but
Who said it would be?
There is no justice in war, violence gouged her eyes and now she's blind to suffering.
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engbergsinfinland · 2 months ago
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A mid-week update!
Hello, everyone! Well, the jig is up. I am not going to be able to religiously post on Tuesdays and Fridays as I had hoped. I just haven't been able to manage it! I was used to this schedule from some "mommy blogs" I used to read in the early 2010s, and I thought it made sense . . . but, alas, I just can't stick to a strict Tuesday/Friday schedule! I will still post twice a week, probably once mid-week and once on the weekend. I like the twice-a-week schedule, because it keeps me consistent with this form of memory-saving/record-keeping, and I don't accumulate too much fun stuff to share from post to post, so that I forget to spread the news of some cool adventures or compelling observations ;) Compelling is what I hope, at least . . .
OK, so two things I want to be sure to mention in this post are, 1) Finnish recycling practices, and 2) Finnish people and their hobbies.
Before that, though, here are the highs and lows since my last post. First, I went to a really nice lunch at a restaurant called Ravintola Telakka with a colleague from English Literature named Johannes (Johnny), from Switzerland. He works in American and British literary studies and he was the one who invited me to the English Lit sub-unit faculty meeting a few weeks back and the back-to-school wine-and-cheese party at the beginning of the term. So, with my literary studies background, we had a ton to talk about, but maybe even more interesting than those themes was what he shared about the Finnish higher education system and his frustrations with it and what he does like. Mostly, we covered the restructuring of the university a few years ago (three universities became one) and how certain disciplines are now in totally different colleges (faculties, here) than you might imagine. Like, English Literary Studies is in a different faculty all together from Comparative Literature.
On the very day we met for lunch, Johannes and two colleagues had a book come out, and its theme really reinforces the interesting interdisciplinary way some literature folks are working these days (as I have always tried to do, as demonstrated by all of the branches of my research off of a main thematic "trunk"). So, the funded research project the book came out of was called Mediated Arctic Geographies and the book, I believe, is called The mediated Arctic: Poetics and politics of contemporary circumpolar geographies. I am so excited to learn more about the book, and also to join a works-in-progress group with a few other literature people to try to finish off a few articles I have that deal with D. H. Lawrence (probably one of two "toes" is still have in the lake of literary studies).
OK, so this week I taught my class and I must say, I am pretty proud of myself for how carefully prepared I have been for each class session. I mean, I guess I should not break my arm patting myself on the back since I am only teaching one class and it only has nine students in it ;)
On Wednesday, we met Elina at the Ratina shopping center, which is bewilderingly right next to another shopping center called Koskikeskus, and they're both like legitimately sizable malls and have many of the same stores in them. Elina helped me figure out what winter clothes the kids will need and we had the kids try on different sizes. We bought exactly one item yesterday (a Reima blue winter jacket with a fuzzy hood, for Cece), but now we know what we need to do. The bottom line is that they basically need to dress like they're going skiing every day to go to school in the winter.
But, the most memorable part of our shopping trip was when Rowan injured himself on the escalator! Horror of horrors! He was running up it and skipping steps and he missed and rammed his shin into a escalator-step edge!!! He basically got like a tooth-shaped-metal-escalator-part-shaped wound in his shin. He is fine now, I should say. But it hurt so much and he skipped ballet last night because of it.
This week also a girl from Rowan's class, Sara, who is apparently nationally ranked in Orienteering, and saw what a fast runner Rowan is, asked him to be her partner in an Orienteering competition next Thursday! We are scrambling to learn more about this. He said "yes" and so he and she will miss school next Thursday to go to this competition. Orienteering is apparently very popular in Nordic countries.
On Monday, Eric and I went to Helsinki to get his passport renewed at the U.S. Embassy. His appointment was at 1 p.m. and it took like 23 minutes! Amazing. We had a lovely lunch at the lakeside restaurant Ursula. I went into a few antique stores and then we hopped back on the train and came back to Tampere! I finally finished my abstract for the D. H. Lawrence Paris-Nanterre conference on the train. I have wanted to go to the conference for like 20 years, but traveling to Paris for three days in the middle of March was never feasible. It may well be this March!
Also, it might have been Monday or Tuesday, Cece painted an amazing picture with her acrylic paints of the view out of our dining room window. I will post a side-by-side image of a photo of the scene and her painting of the scene, soon. She really was able to convey that view so well in her painting.
OK, now on to recycling:
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I want to tell you--in case you don't know--about Finnish recycling practices (see photo above, top). People take waste-sorting very seriously here and you will get shamed if you don't take it seriously, too. Luckily, we do. So, in the back of apartment buildings (like what you see in the top image above, though our area has a cover over it), or in a little corral in communities of single-family homes, there are several bins: one for cartons, one for metal, one for packaging plastics, one for paper, one for glass, one for bio-waste, and one for mixed non-recyclable waste. The other image above shows you what goes where and the Finnish terms for everything. It is quite amazing how all people participate in this system. In public places, the sorting process is a little less honored, like in a restaurant where you clear your own table or mall or something, but, in residences, everyone is on board!
The last thing I want to say concerns people and their hobbies! I believe I mentioned this before. So, I've met so many people my age who are really into their hobbies! My hairdresser Jormo is very into Latin dance and he goes multiple nights a week and has done pairs competitions and now is starting to compete solo. Elina, the kids' classmates' mom, is also into Latin dance, and last night after our time at the Ratina shopping mall, she was on her way to dance class. Johnny, my literature colleague, was going to "training" after our lunch, and what was he training for? Table tennis! My colleague Maija sings in a choir and is regularly in rehearsal and performs often, too! I mean, I guess when I think about it, my US friends have hobbies too, but sometimes they seem a little bit more "catch as catch can," like, people will go to yoga when they have time, or they'll go running by themselves or with a friend, on a not-exactly-strict schedule (and they think of it as a lifestyle not so much as a "hobby"). Here, people have scheduled hobbies and they absolutely stick to them. Perhaps I am not doing a good job of indicating the differences. But, it does seem different somehow.
OK -- have a good next few days! This weekend is Tampere Days here in Tampere, so we will be going around and seeing what kinds of events are on offer, to celebrate the city's 245th birthday!
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enhypia · 3 years ago
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HS ; couples
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couples answers questions with the choice of drinking instead of answering
pairings: lee heeseung x gn!reader
genre: fluff, angst if you squint really hard
words: roughly 1.4k
masterlist ⸺ series masterlist
~guides and warnings~
italics - reader speaking
bold - heeseung speaking
[enclosed] - interviewer speaking
italicized bold - both reader and heeseung speaking
[enclosed bold or italics] - question (depends on who's speaking)
heavily inspired by: rec.create lie detector games, cut truth or drink
warning: contains and mentions of !!! drinking, swearing
i don't promote underage drinking, save your livers
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
hi! i'm (y/n)
hello, my name is heeseung!
and we're together
we're couples!
[you guys were invited here today as couples for a fun little drinking game, you guys were aware of that right?]
yes
we are
[okay, for this game, questions will be asked and if you refuse to answer, you drink, it's that simple. should we start?]
let's go, i can't wait to drink
so you won't be answering the questions?
i mean, it's free alcohol
*hee shakes his head in disbelief
[how long have you been together?]
we actually just had our 3rd anniversary last week
so 3 years now <33
[how did you two meet?]
pffft- *(y/n) laughs
can we just choose pass
shot!
*hee offers the shot glass to (y/n) and both take a shot, laughing after
we're drinking this early on damn
we met through a mutual friend
i was brought as a wingman
i think you can guess how it went
[but how did you guys become a couple?]
we got closer after meeting and i think it was obvious to the both of us that we were interested in each other
yeah but it still took a lot in me to ask you out
he stuttered the first time he asked me on a date
did i?
*(y/n) laughs at the memory
you went "hey, so uh you wa-"
*hee cuts (y/n) off by squishing their cheeks
we don't need a reminder
*(y/n) swats his hand away
but it was cute, don't worry
*(y/n) pats his head making heeseung smile
[okay, how about we officially start the game now?]
*both nod and played rock paper and scissors to determine who gets to ask first, (y/n) wins
*(y/n) reads the card and chuckles
[was it love at first sight?]
it wasn't
like i said, i was supposed to be a wingman so in my head, they were already off limits
i don't believe in love at first sight so *(y/n) shrugs
[do you have/did you have doubts with us being together?]
goddamn *(y/n) drinks
*heeseung is wide-eyed
no honey, not like that, i will answer, it's just that i need the alcohol boost
*the shock goes away
i was about to shed tears not gonna lie
*(y/n) rolls their eyes
when i agreed to becoming heeseung's significant others, i had no doubts, i knew what i felt was true and i knew his was too. the doubts were mainly on myself?? like "what if he just wakes and he doesn't love me anymore" but everyday heeseung proves to me that that will never happen
*(y/n) smiles at heeseung
*heeseung looks away trying to hide the smile and blush appearing on his face and he takes a shot refusing to meet (y/n)'s eyes
*(y/n) picks up a card and laughs
[if i become a zombie and had to eat people to survive, would you stick by side?]
heeseung gets scared easily i don't think he will
but if it's you...
*(y/n) raises an eyebrow
wait let me think about this more clearly
see! *(y/n) laughs
*heeseung continues to think
omg just say no!
but it's you !!!
i know it's me but baby we both know you'll run the other way once i start to eat people
...... you still love me right?
yes heeseung, i still love you
*hee :D
okay! next question!
*he picks up a card and laughs
oh i like this one.
[would you date any of my friends?]
*(y/n)'s mouth drops in shock
*(y/n) ultimately decides to play with heeseung
i mean.. *(y/n) reaches for a shot
*the grin on his face disappears
yah!
*(y/n) bursts into giggles and takes a shot
yah~ !!
[would YOU date any of my friends?]
*hee's eyes narrows and takes a shot for revenge
*both laugh at their antics
the answer is no guys, i love his friends but they're pretty much like annoying siblings
sorry (y/n)'s friends, (y/n) is the only one for me
but i'm pretty sure someone who used to be in my circle would jump at the chance
really ?? who ??
*(y/n) gives the look
AH! -
*scene cuts as he says a name
moving on.
*(y/n) picks up a card and laughs
[do you wish i offered to pay for more dates?]
MAN I WISH I COULD PAY MORE ON DATES
i like paying for our dates, but arguing with them is hard
yeah there was one time we spent 10 minutes bickering about who will pay, so we just made an agreement
we take turns per month, like for this month i'm the one paying for all the dates, then on the next month (y/n) will be paying
but everytime it's his month, he always tries to go out a lot, and when it's my month he opts to stay in
hehe
hEHE ??
*heeseung picks up a card and reads the question intently
*he is in deep thought
what is it?
[will you agree to an open relationship?]
ohhh
open relationship is when it's okay if you see other people right?
yup and i don't think i'd agree to it. you?
me as well
sorry im selfish, heeseung is mine, i do not share ;)
*heeseung laughs
yeah, sorry it's not for me, i don't think i can stomach seeing another one hold (y/n) , find your own
*(y/n) raises glasses to cheers and both take a shot
[it's okay not to drink if you answer]
yeah we know
but it's free alcohol
and drinking makes it more fun
*they hi-five
okay! next question,
[if i had to move away for many years, would you wait for me?]
yes.
wow no hesitations
yes i would wait for you
*(y/n) :O
yes
okay we get it
*they laugh
but i will, you're worth waiting for
your patience says otherwise
are you doubting my ability to wait?
do you hear yourself when you're playing?
that's with games, you're not a game, you're not something i play
*(y/n) blushes making heeseung laugh
shut up okay i get it
i also do not actually trust my patience
SEE ?!
*heeseung bursts out laughing
so instead of waiting i'd probably just go to them and/or visit them a lot
or just move in with me
*(y/n) avoids heeseung's stare
is this still related to the question or the present
huh? *(y/n) acts clueless
WAIT-
*camera cut
*we see both of them sporting a blush with big smiles on their face, and the alcohol evidently lessened
[freestyle! ask any question you want]
wah, i don't know what to ask
*he is thinking, everybody shut up
just keep it simple
no i want it to be hard
i can just actually follow the rules and drink instead of answering
*hee pouts
no you won't
*(y/n) :P
okay!
[did you like ... when we first met?]
oh the 'friend'?
yeah
*(y/n) drinks
*heeseung :O
*(y/n) xD
no heeseung, i did not like them, i really just saw them as a friend
ohh ouch sorry buddy
*they share a laugh
oh it's the last one
[question for both: what does loving each other feel like?]
awww that's a cute one, i'll go first
loving heeseung feels like the comfort your favorite songs bring you. it feels like the excitement you get whenever your favorite show releases a new episode. it's the deep sigh in content you release whenever you smell your favorite scent. it's just, loving him feels like everything your favorites make you feel.
*heeseung is not tearing up, definitely not, that's just sweat, he is also 100% not blushing, it's just hot
*he takes a shot and (y/n) laughs at his antics
now how am i supposed to beat that?!
let me be more romantic gosh
respectfully, no.
*both laugh
okay uhh, loving (y/n) feels like riding a rollercoaster. from all the emotions while waiting in line to exiting the ride. loving them is like the feeling of hitting a high note you previously couldn't. it's winning multiple prizes at the arcade. loving (y/n) is like the softness of a sunrise and the absolute wonder in staring at a night sky.
*(y/n) takes a shot not even bothering to hide their blush
why are we so cheesy and poetic when we're intoxicated damn
*heeseung laughs and agrees
forgive us if we're cringey
not our fault you're single
heeseung! :O
*he stays unapologetic
and that's it!
thank you for having us~
bye~
»————- ♡ ————-«
bonus: youtube comments
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masterlist ⸺ series masterlist
a/n: sorry this took so long, i caught up with everything i missed in my classes, i'll try to update the series more frequently. i will also be posting timestamps later since it's been days since i last posted. i hope you also like this one!! jay's will be posted next, please look forward to it <33
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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years ago
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Twisted 17 - Mind Games [Spencer Reid x Reader]
A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, angst.
Word Count: 4700
Summary: Love demands sacrifices.
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Not even once in your life had you ever imagined yourself in handcuffs, in an interrogation room on the wrong side of the table.
You weren’t even at the FBI headquarters though. The police had taken you to the station after the hospital, taking a blood sample and your fingerprints, then they had handcuffed you and left you there with a glass of water.
Of course they suspected you. Of course they thought you had murdered him.
Murder was your father’s legacy, after all.
You traced the handcuffs over your wrists, already feeling the bruises forming there. The shock still hadn’t worn off but you were starting to think it was a good thing. It felt as if you were watching all of this from behind some kind of glass window, perfectly aware of every single emotion but unable to actually feel them.
Spencer had said when you felt threatened, your body produced nervous energy, some sort of a fight or flight reaction but for once you weren’t trying to do any of that.
You just sat there, completely frozen.
“You look calm,” the police officer spoke, making you look up, trying to ignore the faint yelling coming from outside, possibly from the end of the hall.  
“I’m sorry?”
“Most people would be traumatized if this happened to them, they’d be crying, shaking…” he motioned at you, “But look at you. Still as a statue. You look pretty calm.”
“Would you rather if I were crying?”
“I’d rather if you were acting like a human being,” he said, “Why are you so calm?”
Why were you so calm?
Because your mother had taught you this much. Showing emotion when you were afraid meant weakness.
“My father was a serial killer,” you stated, looking him dead in the eye, “I’ve had a complicated childhood.”
“Yeah, I’d say…” he leaned in slightly, “You know, I’ve watched that documentary about your father. His interviews too.”
You raised your brows as he sniffled, trying to look like he was nonchalant about this whole situation.
“And I’ve spent sixteen years on this job,” he said, “After a while, you don’t even need anyone to speak for you to know what they’ve done. It’s all in their eyes and little girl,” he clicked his tongue, “There’s nothing behind your eyes but ice and death.”
You couldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry. Not in front of people, not even if they tried to kill you. No matter how much they tried to hurt you-
No emotions.
“Impressive,” you managed to say, “Very poetic. Have you ever considered changing your career?”
“You know what I think?”
“I’m sure you’re about to enlighten me.”
“I think you wanted to follow your father’s footsteps,” he said, “I think you killed Anthony, and all those other people. It’s not even your fault, is it? Some people are just born broken.”
That was more than enough to make your eyes snap up to his and you could feel the lump in your throat but you bit your tongue so hard that you swallowed blood, making sure to keep your expression still.
“Nothing to say?”
“You’ve already decided what to think of me,” you said, “And I already told you what happened. What more do you want to hear?”
“Right,” he scoffed, taking a look at the file in front of him, “You went to bed around 12, didn’t wake up whole night, when you woke up you found him like that. Lying in a pool of his own blood, in your kitchen.”
“You don’t look like a whiskey girl.” an unfamiliar voice made you turn your head and you lowered your glass, tilting your head. The guy smiled at you, and stole a look at the whiskey glass you had put on the bar.
“Yeah?” you asked, “What girl am I then? If you’re such an expert?”
He thought for a moment, “Hmm, wine?”
“Depends on the occasion.”
“What kind of an occasion does whiskey call for?”
“Apparently an occasion for meeting guys with bad pick-up lines.”
He let out a chuckle, “Yeah, I swear I’m normally smoother than this.”
“I would hope so,” you grinned, and offered your hand, “Y/N.”
“Anthony.”
“But you failed to mention the part you texted him to come to your apartment.”
“I didn’t text anyone.”
“We have your phone Y/N.”
“I didn’t text anyone,” you repeated, “Someone must’ve drugged me and taken my phone, the same person who killed him, the same person who obviously broke into my apartment.”
“How convenient.”
You clenched your jaw.
“I always wake up during night,” you said, your voice completely calm and controlled. “Always. I never woke up last night, there has to be a reason for that.”
“If you’ve been drugged, it will come up on the blood tests.”
“Good.”
“While we wait for that,” he said, “Why don’t we go over what you did last night?”
You took a deep breath, “I woke up,” you said “Went to work. I left work at 7 to go to my sister’s place. I left there around eleven, came home and went to bed.”
“Nothing else happened.”
“Nothing else happened,” you repeated and he sat up straighter.
“Okay. Well just so you know, Dr. Spencer Reid—” he started and your head shot up, your heart slamming against your chest, “He is giving us his professional opinion at the moment, about this case and what might have really happened this morning. Do you have anything you want to change in your story before he’s finished?”
You gawked at him, blinking a couple of times before you turned your head to look at the one-way mirror on the wall.
The BAU was there, behind the mirror.
“….They came back?”
“We’ve sent them the report, yes. They landed an hour ago.”
It was as if somebody was trying to claw your stomach out of your body as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, trying to ignore the burning behind your eyes before you turned to the officer.
“I don’t have anything to change,” you managed to keep your voice stable, “It was a terrible thing, it definitely was but I didn’t do it.”
Someone knocked on the mirror, making you and the officer look that way before he pushed his chair back and left the interrogation room. You closed your eyes for a moment, focusing on your breathing through the blinding headache but opened your eyes when the door opened again.
Luke.
He offered you a small smile and pulled himself a chair.
“Hi.”
“Hello,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, sitting up with your back straight, your hands clasped.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” you stole a look at the one-way mirror, “Is he there?”
“Reid?” Luke asked and shook his head, “I had to basically wrestle him out of the hall, he’s…he’s not allowed here. Conflict of interest. He’s giving his statement at the end of the hall as we speak.”
You nodded, digging your fingernails into your palms. “Okay.”
“He also called your sister on our way here. Couldn’t reach her, but left a message. Listen, he can’t request it on your behalf, but you need to ask for a lawyer.”
“I didn’t kill Anthony.”
“I didn’t ask if you killed him, I’m saying you need to ask for a lawyer.”
“Does he think I did it?” you asked and Luke shook his head again.
“No,” he said, “But it doesn’t matter what anyone else believes at this point, Y/N. Ask for a lawyer.”
You kept your back straight, rolling your shoulders. “If Spencer left a message to Mina, she’s coming.”
“Is she a defense lawyer?”
“No but she knows a lot of them.”
He took a deep breath and put the bottle of your pills on the desk, “The officers also found this.”
You tried your hardest to focus, moving your wrists to help with the soreness of the handcuffs. “They’re prescribed.”
“I can see that. The side effects say confusion?”
You arched a brow, “I’m sorry, do I sound confused to you right now?”
“No, you sound way too controlled right now, I may as well have been talking to a robot.”
You gritted your teeth, trying to control the panic bubbling at the pit of your stomach, sending anger through your veins.
“I’m not confused,” you stated, “Besides, I haven’t been taking them lately.”
He threw his head back, pressing his lips together, “God, Y/N, you can’t say that. A psychiatrist prescribed you something and you—“
“They’re just for nightmares, they don’t make you…” you took a deep breath, commanding yourself to stay calm, “I didn’t kill him. I found him like that. It was terrible, but I didn’t do it.”
Someone opened the door again and Emily Prentiss cleared her throat.
“Luke,” she murmured, “Spencer.”
You could feel your heart skip a beat upon hearing his name but kept completely still as Luke left the room and Emily and JJ walked into the room.
“You’re taking turns now?” you asked and Emily cleared her throat,
“Me and JJ are the only people in our team who haven’t spent as much time with you, so we figured it would be better if we interrogated you.”
“I didn’t do it.”
Emily pulled herself a chair as JJ crossed her arms, standing by the wall.
“Can you walk me through what happened this morning?”
You took a deep breath, “I woke up,” you said, “With a headache. I knew something was wrong, I felt it. My window was open, the front door was half open and my phone wasn’t where I left it. I stepped outside my room, saw the blood, went to the kitchen and saw—“ you gritted your teeth and clenched your fists, “Saw my ex-boyfriend there. Dead. Lying in a pool of his blood.”
“But you heard nothing.”
“I never sleep for the whole night,” you said slowly, “Check my blood test. Something happened last night.”
“We don’t have your blood test results yet, but there was no sign of any sexual—“
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” You cut her off, a shiver running down your spine, “That’s not it. Whoever it was, they didn’t touch me, they wanted…”
“What did they want?”
You shrugged slightly, “I don’t know. They wanted me to see it I think. My…my father’s crime scenes.”
JJ took a deep breath and pushed herself off the wall.
“And you don’t think it’s a little too convenient?”
You pulled your brows together, looking at her and she stepped closer to the table, her eyes fixed on you.
“Two victims so far,” she said, “The ones that we knew that were in the same place as you, they had some connection to you. That woman who was killed at the charity ball, you didn’t get along when you were kids, you turned her down as a client before she was killed, and now your ex-boyfriend ends up dead, in your apartment because you sent him a—“ she scoffed, “I’m sorry, someone sent him a late night text, inviting him to your apartment.”
“JJ,” Emily started but JJ held up a hand while you tried to wrap your head around it.
She had a point. Two victims so far had some connection to you and that was not a coincidence, it couldn’t have been.
“You think I did it,” you rasped out and she scoffed.
“I think you had something to do with all of this,” she said, “I think you’ve been trying to manipulate Spencer for something. The best case scenario, you were cheating, that’s why Anthony was there and something went bad, the worst case….” She shook her head, “You’re behind every single murder we’ve been looking into, and Spencer was just a tool for you. He’s my best friend, and if I find one single proof that you put him in harm’s way, I swear to God I will destroy you.”
Two people had ended up dead, and that was your fault. The copycat was going after people who had some kind of connection to you, and apparently no one except you and your family was safe.
The idea was way too painful to even exist inside your head, but it was clear as day. JJ was right, you were putting Spencer in harm’s way just by being with him, and if it were him, if you had seen him lying in a pool of his blood, his eyes wide open—
You dug your fingernails into your palms until it hurt before you managed to lift your head, that invisible wall which kept you safe from anyone and everyone who could possibly see anything you felt going up again.
“You…” you trailed off, your throat burning, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
“What does that mean?” Emily asked but before you could say anything, someone slammed the door open, making you and the agents turn.
Mina.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” she asked no one in particular and stepped aside so that 4 lawyers could walk inside before the police officer rushed to you to remove the handcuffs off your wrists.
“You’re not saying another word,” she snapped her fingers, “Come on, we’re leaving.”
“We’re going to need her to sign some papers,” the officer said as Mina grabbed your wrist to pull you out of the room, making you hiss in a breath and she froze, lowering her glances to check your sore wrists for any bruises.
“What did they do to you?”
You shook your head silently, and something in Mina’s gaze shifted. You had seen it only a couple of times, including that time you were getting stitches after some girls in your classroom had ambushed you in the bathroom, and more importantly, you had seen that look on her face when Lily had fever that one time and you all had to rush to the hospital and the doctors said she couldn’t see her.
It was fire, similar to yours, ready to burn everything in its path.
“Don’t say anything to anyone. You two,” she motioned at the two lawyers, “Read whatever she’s supposed to sign.”
The lawyers approached the desk by the door as Mina put her coat over your shoulders, rubbing at your arms as you swayed slightly on your feet, trying to focus.
“We’re leaving, okay sweetheart?”
“Miss—“
“No,” When Mina turned to the police officers and the BAU team, any trace of softness in her voice disappeared, “You don’t talk. If you don’t want to get into even more trouble, you’re going to listen to me right now.”
The officer that had been with you at the interrogation room just blinked a couple of times, obviously taken aback.
“Do you have any idea what you just did to yourself?” she asked, “What you did to this whole precinct? Because allow me to explain, my sister was a victim in this scenario, and you tried to pin this shit on her to make her a scapegoat,” she shook her head, “We will be suing you for defamation of character—“
“Mina, your sister—” JJ started but she snapped her fingers at her.
“I haven’t even started with you yet, wait for your turn.”
“Mina…” you murmured but she didn’t even look like she could hear you,
“Where was I? Defamation of character because press will be all over this, intentional infliction of emotional stress and wrongful arrest and hey, to make things fun we will also be requesting the security footage in the interrogation room and if I see one very small slip of anything that wasn’t supposed to be said and done in that room…” Mina tilted her head, “Well, let’s just say that by the time I’m done with you guys and this whole precinct, the only thing you will be able to afford is going to be a typewriter and a desk.”
One of the lawyers came to tell you the document was alright to sign and as soon as you approached the desk, a door by the hall opened and Spencer stepped out.
It was almost excruciating not to be able to run to him. He looked as shocked as he was and he took a step towards you but JJ stepped in front of him as you grabbed the pen, ignoring the way your name spilled from his lips in a whisper.
“Oh, hi genius.” Mina called out, “Were you getting a glass of water while your team was hounding my sister or something?”
Spencer looked almost confused only for a moment before he turned to look at JJ who deliberately averted her glances from him.
“Mina, this is not necessary,” you croaked out as you signed the papers and she shook her head.
“No, this is very necessary, trust me. You need to show these people what you’re capable of or they will try to fuck you up, case and point.” She turned to Emily, “You’re the one in charge, I suppose?”
“I am.”
“Good. Consider this your warning, because the next time anyone in your team, including the puppy dog eyes over there gets any closer to my sister, we will be getting a restraining order for each and every one of you.”
You closed your eyes for a moment, still swaying on your feet and you hugged the coat around you tighter.
Not that you could do anything other than watching this.
“Your sister is an active part of this investigation, your father specifically asked for—“
“My sister is a civilian,” Mina growled, “She has no responsibility for this case, you do. How about you surprise me and do your fucking jobs?”
You took a breath to say it wasn’t fair, that it wasn’t their fault but Mina turned to look at you.
“Get in the elevator, we’re leaving.”
You were way too tired to fight her, way too tired to even stand there so you followed the army of lawyers to the elevator, while Mina shot the officers and the BAU members a fake smile.
“Pleasure, let’s never do this again,” she said, and got in the elevator with you, and you tried to keep your expression still, Spencer staring at you until the doors slid close.
“4 lawyers?” you managed to say, “I don’t think even Bundy had four lawyers.”
“Tell that to mom,” she said, “She was on the phone with a congressman the last I checked.”
You couldn’t even smile at that, but Mina let out a breath before pulling you into a bone crushing hug, making the tears rush to your eyes as you wrapped your arms around her.
“Never do that to me again, you hear me?” her voice cracked for the first time and you nodded slowly.
“I won’t,” you said, “I promise.”
                                                   ***
It was as if someone had pulled all your energy out of your body. You were exhausted, you could barely understand what anyone was saying but you knew there was no way you could sleep anytime soon.
The blood test, as the lawyers had informed you, finally came back and just like you suspected, they had found traces of chloroform in your system. That and your team of lawyers combined were more than enough to get rid of any kind of accusations against you, so at least you had that.
On the other hand, the fear, the guilt, the sadness were still there inside of you, even if you felt way too numb to reach it.
You wondered if Spencer would have a scientific explanation for that.
Your mother had insisted you would never step a foot into your apartment again, she was already looking for a new apartment for you, one with multiple security systems and until that happened she had told you you would be staying at her house.
The damn thing was way too big anyway and you and Mina had grown up there so you figured it would serve as some sort of shelter.
If it even existed for you.
“Here you go sweetheart,” your mother pushed the tea cup towards you, “Drink it, it’ll make you feel better.”
“I’m fine.”
Kenzie heaved a sigh, “It’s okay if you’re not,” she said, “No one expects you to, anyone would be traumatized.”
“The real estate agent already sent me three apartments,” your mother said, “Huge windows, you love a bright apartment.”
“Mom,” Mina said silently and she heaved a sigh.
“It could help her distract herself,” her head shot up, “Y/N, you should go on a vacation! Somewhere far away from here.”
“Somewhere peaceful could be nice?” Kenzie added, “I think that’s a good idea.”
You and Mina exchanged glances.
“I heard Fiji is lovely this time of the year,” your mother said and you let out a breath.
“Mom, two people died because of me,” you croaked out, “I’m not going to Fiji for vacation.”
“Honey, you could use some peace,” she held your chin carefully and lifted it so that she could look at you better, “You look so…”
“I look like how I feel,” you said and turned your head when the doorbell rang, making Mina sit up straighter.
“Who’s that?” she asked when the maid walked in.
“Spencer Reid?”
“What?” you and Kenzie asked at the same time, your heartbeat getting faster and Mina jumped on her feet but you stopped her, shaking your head.
“It’s okay,” you sniffled, nodding to yourself, “It’s….it’s fine. There’s no point in dragging it out.”
“Dragging what out?” Mina asked you but you walked out of the living room and reached the front door, trying to ignore the warmth filling your system as soon as your eyes caught the sight of him. You stepped out of the house and he pulled you into a tight hug, burying his nose into your hair and inhaling deeply as if it helped him calm down while you just stood there, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay.
You had to do it. No matter how much it hurt you, no matter how much you didn’t want to.
No matter how badly it would rip your heart out.
“You okay?” he asked you, his fingers pushing your hair behind your ear, “I tried your apartment but I figured…”
“Yeah, I’m not going back there,” you shrugged your shoulders, “I’ll move out, it’s fine.”
“Do you want to stay at my place?” he asked quickly and you closed your eyes for a moment, every cell in your body begging you to change your mind.
You couldn’t though. You’d rather die than see him lying in a pool of his blood, all because of you.
“Don’t say that,” you whispered and opened your eyes again, “Please don’t say that.”
He looked almost confused, tilting his head to the side like a puppy before it dawned on him.
“Is this about the file on me?”
You shook your head and he took a deep breath.
“About today?”
“I didn’t send that message,” you said, “To Anthony, I mean. I wouldn’t…. I wouldn’t cheat on you.”
“I know that.”
“And I didn’t kill him. I don’t know if you heard, but the blood tests came back positive for—”
“I never doubted that, not even for one second,” he insisted, “With or without blood test.”
“You might be the only one,” you murmured and he paused for a moment.
“What did JJ say to you?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Because we had an argument on the jet on our way back here and whatever she said…”
You shook your head again, trying to smile.
“I get it,” you murmured, “She’s your best friend, she’s protective of you. That’s normal.”
“Yeah but if she thinks that you’re capable of—”
“I want to break up.”
You could swear the words burned your mouth, some invisible hand clutching your heart tighter and tighter as you willed yourself to keep your eyes on the street, because you were sure that every wall you built to keep your emotions under control would crash down the moment you looked at him. Out of the corner of your eye you could see that he froze and he blinked a couple of times, as if he was lost.
“What?” he asked silently and you tried to swallow the lump growing bigger and bigger in your throat.
“Y/N, wait—no,” he said quickly, breathing hard, “Listen, whatever they said to you today during the interrogation, if that’s what this is about—”
“It has nothing to do with that,” you forced yourself to say, crossing your arms and he took a step closer to you.
“Whatever the problem is,” he rasped out, “We can solve it, okay? Don’t do this.”
That was when it dawned on you.
It wasn’t enough to push him away. You had to make sure to burn that bridge so that neither of you could ever find your way back to each other.
“It’s not one of your cases Spencer, you can’t solve this one,” you muttered and finally turned your head to look up at him, your stomach churning at the sight of betrayal on his face.
“I don’t understand.”
“You—it’s—“ you stammered, trying to find the words, “It’s going way too fast, alright? It’s going way too fast and it’s going to fucking crash, and I can’t—“ you cleared your throat when your voice cracked, “I’m not going to crash with this, I can’t.”
Your father had taught you this way too long ago, when you were too young to even question it.
Stab the prey, twist the knife, pull it back and watch them bleed.
Stab the prey.
“I mean come on Spencer, we’re not in love or anything,” you shrugged your shoulders, “Should be easy enough.”
He stared at you for a couple of seconds, his mouth slightly agape and his brows furrowed, shock written all over his face.
“We’re not in love?” he repeated, “You…you don’t love me?”
Twist the knife.
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
His eyes searched your face, as if looking for any kind of clue that could tell him you were lying, or that it was a trick but for once, it was in vain.
You’d had spent years learning how to control your emotions and your expression when it came to heartbreak.
Pull it back.
“It’s not my fault if you’re in love,” you said, each word making you hate yourself more and more, “I can’t be held responsible for that.”
Stabbing yourself would’ve been less painful, you were sure of that but you knew you had to keep going. One last step, one last sentence and you would be done.
Watch them bleed.
“I never told you to love me.”
Then, silence.
You had to give it to him though, it took him faster than it would’ve taken you to pull yourself together if you were the one on the receiving end of this. He blinked back the tears, clenched his jaw and in a second, his gaze turned cold, exactly like yours.
“Yeah,” he said slowly, nodding, “You didn’t.”
But you had forgotten one small detail. 
Spencer knew how to withdraw that knife and stab back.
You cleared your throat and turned around to get inside the house but before you could step in, you heard his voice.
“I was wrong.”
You looked over your shoulder, clutching at the straws to keep it together, “I’m sorry?”
“I was wrong,” he stated, his voice was distant and held no trace of its usual warmth, “Before, I mean. In terms of behavior and psychology, you’re exactly your father’s daughter.”
With that, he walked away from the house, and you just stood there for a moment before stepping into the house and closing the door behind you, that comfortable haze of shock slowly withdrawing from your mind like mist. That hand squeezing your heart twisted it in your chest and you tried to breathe, pressing a hand on your chest.
“Sweetheart?” your mother called out as she stepped into the hallway, then slowly approached you, “You okay?”
It was impossible to stop the tears rushing to your eyes now and a gasp escaped from your lips as you shook your head.
“Mom,” you whimpered, “Please, my—my heart hurts...”
She rushed to you and shushed you gently, pulling you into a tight hug and caressing your hair as you slipped to the ground and you buried your face to her shoulder.
Then the sobs came.
Chapter 18
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sturchling · 4 years ago
Note
Because Marinette is practically doing the teachers job, she gets her pay. Ms Bustier realizes shes not getting paid and when she asks why its because shes not doing her job Marinette is so shes the one getting paid. Class salt, no ship- unless you want to add one.
Here you go! Hope you like it, let me know what you think!
The school board couldn’t believe what they were hearing. How had this been going on in Mrs. Bustier’s class. The Dupain-Chengs had come to speak with them regarding the problems in the school, and the board was horrified. They were told about how Marinette was essentially being forced to do her teacher’s job. Marinette had been the one submitting all the forms for field trips, fundraisers, and everything else for the class in the last year. She had also been organizing everything and was expected to keep the class in line. So the school board decided to do something. They tried reaching out to Mrs. Bustier for a meeting several times, but she always dodged the meetings and avoided them. They decided they would have to lure her into a meeting. 
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They would give Marinette Mrs. Bustier’s pay, since she has been doing Mrs. Bustier’s job. That would force Mrs. Bustier to come and ask them about her pay, and then they could finally have the meeting they desperately needed with her. They cleared it with Marinette’s family and Mr. Damocles. They gave Mr. Damocles specific instructions not to tell Mrs. Bustier anything and that if she asks, he is to send her to them. Starting the next week, Marinette started receiving Mrs. Bustier’s pay.
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Mrs. Bustier was glad that Marinette was in her class. It made her job so much easier. Marinette was always willing to help with the more mundane and boring tasks. That gave Mrs. Bustier more time to spend with her students. And Mrs. Bustier was sure that the class would respond better to one of their own keeping them in line and being an example, instead of a teacher reprimanding them. Sure, it put more work on Marinette’s shoulders, but she was sure that Marinette could handle it.
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But Mrs. Bustier noticed a problem that had come up with her latest pay checks. Mainly, that they had never arrived. She waited for a week, thinking that maybe there was a problem with the bank. But they still didn’t arrive. When she called the bank, they said that they had never received the checks. She wasn’t sure what the problem was. By now she was missing two pay checks. When she went to Mr. Damocles, he told her that she needed to go speak to the school board about it. Mrs. Bustier didn’t want to, because she knew that they had been trying to set up a meeting with her for weeks. So far, she had managed to avoid the meeting, but now she had to go speak to them. 
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Mrs. Bustier went to the school board the next day to ask about her pay. She didn’t expect to hear what she did. “Why haven’t I received my most recent pay checks? I haven’t received my last two checks, and I need to pay my rent. What is going on?” The board just looked at her with bored expressions. “You haven’t been paid, because you haven’t been doing your job.” Mrs. Bustier was shocked. “What do you mean? I show up everyday, and I teach my pupils all day. I am doing my job.” The head of the board just rolled their eyes. “That isn’t your whole job and you know it. We received information that you have been pushing responsibilities on to one of your students, one Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Since she has been doing a major portion of your job, she has been receiving your pay checks. For now, we need to discuss your conduct in your class.” 
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Mrs. Bustier stood in shock as the board reprimanded her for having Marinette help her in the classroom. She truly didn’t see what she had done wrong. Things only got worse for her when she mentioned how she handled the bullies in her classroom and mentioned all the ‘disabilities’ that Lila supposedly had. The final nail in the coffin was when she discussed the long absences of Lila’s without any formal documentation from her mother. Mrs. Bustier ended up being removed from her position at the school due to her ineptitude. Though she would be allowed to reapply, provided she completed several additional trainings on things like bullying. Marinette had taken all the money the school gave her as ‘payment for her work’ to charities that helped bullied kids, thinking that was a poetic way to use the money. She wasn’t happy her teacher was gone, but was happy that bullies were now being handled, and that Lila was revealed as a liar by the school board. 
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demonfamilytherapist · 3 years ago
Note
Spoilers ahead for hdd alternate fic!
I just finished reading your recent fic and it won’t leave my mind. It was so good!!!!!! I pulled some of my favourite lines (the ones that hurt most huhu) and put some of my thought/reactions…mostly because if I don’t express how these made me feel I’ll be thinking about them all week lol. (Also amongst the gushing there is a small question about Satan’s bit if you wouldn’t mind clarifying?)
‘"You can't save me, Beel."’ : bringing up some low key Lilith trauma of how he couldn’t save her, chefs kiss, always a delight to see
“but for a moment he could've sworn you'd looked horrified. ‘...After I leave.’”: I’m not sure if you wrote the “looked horrified” part as MC coming back to their senses for a moment and being horrified with what they’ve done; BUT if not, there is something so beautifully painful about MC being horrified at seeing asmo’s (naked) form; as if it’s disgusts them—because in my mind that’s one of asmo’s true fears, something that can hurt him the most is that MC finds him disgusting—revolting to perceive bare and vulnerable.
“Fighting against it was futile, Levi knew. Levi knew but he tried anyway.” Bb nooo you can’t fight it, you can’t do anything; but he still tries?!? Hskaiaaks noooo levi…
“With that, Satan laid out his most damning piece of evidence. ‘If you really wanted to break me with your words, you know exactly what to say.’” : 🥺🥺🥺.the fact Satan already knows the words that would hurt him most, like they are in the recesses of his mind every day. Satan’s part was great…it really shows how a) he would most realistically react and b) how the curse gets stronger over time (I mean MC wouldn’t say this to Satan but the things they said to lucifer?? 👀). Also quick question who said “I’ll see you again soon love”? Was it MC being condescending or Satan being triumphant with the last word knowing the curse WILL be broken?
“‘Get it over with.’” : the fact belphie KNOWS what the most loaded ammunition against him is (or at least he thinks he does…) the fact that he knows what’s coming and he can’t stop it…god belphie’s section just DESTROYED me as usual whenever you write belphie angst. But the fact that you brought up what my biggest qualm about belphie’s redemption was and then used it AGAINST him?? I can’t omg…belphie now being insecure and second guessing EVERY interaction with MC after the incident…genius, beautiful, heart wrenching—belphie I love you but damn you are so easy to hurt bb.
“‘Are you still following the rules of your father?’” : I’m SHAKING IM QUAKING. You really went there and I can’t get over it. AND LUCIFERS REACTION?????THE WAY MC SAID IT GLEEFULLY KNOWING THAT THIS SHIT WILL HURT, WILL ANGER HIM. Lucifer knowing “this isn’t MC” so he can’t get mad, can’t defend his pride, it’s just so poetic. There are not enough chef’s in the world to give you the kisses you deserve for this line.
“‘Give me five minutes alone with Mammon.’” : ok I know this wasn’t in mammon’s section but the way you could here a pin drop after MC said this…the way lucifer is so defeated he can’t refuse…the way we know that the this will DESTROY mammon, especially because of how the curse gets stronger (maybe? I think?) as time goes on…had me reeling. I won’t continue to post lines from mammon’s part (otherwise I’d pretty much be copy-pasting all of it) but his and lucifer’s dialogue is just hskaia nowapkaja; lucifer being exhausted, being unable to do anything to protect his baby brother, and mammon understanding what is going to happen (the way he lets lucifer know we’re Satan is calmly). The way MC is soft with mammon then saying those cruel things, the PLOT TWIST?? What finally breaks mammon in the end???? My poor boy…
I don’t have enough synonyms to fully express how wonderful this was…maybe I am a sadist with how much I enjoyed this lol.
Also the possibility of a sequel with the datables…I would be forever grateful. Especially for a Dia section—I love that man but with some of the things he’s done it’d be so easy to tear him down…(especially the fact that he did essentially kidnap MC in the first place to take part in the exchange program against their will …👀👀)
Also big thank you that Luke was not included/ will not be (if you do decide to write a sequel). No one hurts my son, especially not me!
Aight, that was very long and very such a ramble; I’m done now (not really but I’ll keep it to myself lol). Have an excellent day and I look forward to whatever you put out next!
Bonus: “I don’t want to hurt you, but I… I want to hurt.”- me to the brothers whenever I request an angst fic from you lmao
Sorry it took me a while to answer but thank you so much for this ask! I really appreciate the feedback on what worked.
Going to put the rest under the read more to avoid spoilers and also discussion of certain sections that may be uncomfortable.
Asmo's Part: I had intended that to be MC coming back to themselves for a moment but your interpretation is equally, if not more, terrible.
I didn't want to make it too explicit in that section (because it could be a more uncomfortable topic) but part of the reason the accidental strip order was in there was because it's the exact opposite of what MC represents to Asmo. MC is someone who chooses to be with him and who always makes it clear that he doesn't have to their attention by looking or acting a certain way.MC giving the order took away that aspect of the relationship, if only for a second.
Satan's Part: I wrote that as Satan saying that line and trying to project an air of confidence that the curse would be broken soon. I was going to put a 'Satan said' somewhere in there, but no matter how I worded it, I didn't like how it ended up flowing...
Belphie's Part: He's a bit too easy to bully, so I wanted to go with something slightly less obvious for him... and I think it ended up having a better effect than just taking the 'you killed me' route!
Lucifer's Part: Honestly shout out to @house-of-laminations for letting me bounce ideas off of her and helping me refine what MC was going to do to him. I wanted to really go for his pride and his lack of agency, and this time he can't go rage mode because he actually loves MC and just has to hope that's not how they really view him. Lucifer's lack of agency vs his immense power is something I find really interesting, so it was nice to bring that up.
Mammon's: I wanted to give Mammon his own suspicions first because I like him getting to be smart and competent sometimes. Mammon, despite being pretty sensitive himself, is also pretty good at keeping himself together when his loved ones need him (see: Post-fall). So I wanted him to keep it mostly together until the very end.
And yes, I think the only way I could possibly involve Luke was if we had a repeat of the intro, where MC sees him panicking and they fight against the curse because they can't hurt Luke.
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its-me-im-coraline · 3 years ago
Text
Curiosity Killed the Cat // Thomas Raggi
words // 1179
warnings // small sexual scene, subby thomas, me trying to be poetic ig
pairing // Thomas Raggi x Gender Neutral Reader
author's note // i haven't written smut in yeaaaars omg I feel so rusty. let me know if this sucks or if you liked it. big thank you to this amazing person, @tabi-toast for proof reading this cause I suck at proof readin so yay (although you might want to read it again cause I might have changed it in a spur of inspiration last night 👀)
request // yes, here
summary // Thomas and reader find themselves in quite the compromising position for the poor eyes of a band member. Seems like the lines between work and personal life are quite blurry for the two.
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It all started during the summer; a hot June day, to be clichè. I had just started working for the group Måneskin, as part of their PR team. It has been quite the interesting job for me, being new in the city of Rome and whatnot, coming to be part of the team for a music group seemed magical at first. Key word: at first. As they gained more and more popularity my job became relatively hectic, my anxiety rising like a virus latched onto my brain and never letting it go. Thus how I found myself in this predicament.
Being around the band meant creating bonds with them, some more than others. It is not that I don't like it, but rules are a thing; rules that put my job on the line over the risky looks or the racy touches here and there. But some rules are just made to be broken. Any feelings like that were bound to be hidden and never been seen by anyone but him.
The first time I got caught up in Thomas is a blur. There was some drinks, some celebration happening, and neither of us truly wanted to be there. At first the balcony felt like a good idea, with the fresh air and allowing him to take a smoke as we spoke. Maybe it was the young of our age, or maybe is the deep attraction we have for each other, that kept us talking as if there was no tomorrow. Maybe it was the wine, or the whiskey, that led us to sneak out of the venue. No one knows what it was neither how it happened.
The next morning was a blurry dream. Bleary eyes opening up in an unfamiliar enviroment, the light shining in my eyes and the soft breaths of someone. Saying it was a shock is an understatement. My heart was beating out of my chest. They can't know. But I do, and it is enough to fill me up with guilt. So I got up and left, just like that, forgetting about that night, or at least trying to.
The thing is that I could not get him out of my head since that event. His hands on my body or his begging, begging for something to happen, to be given to him. Every sinful move of my body on his was clouding my mind, day in and day out, for weeks. It was a never-leaving thought, a film I tried ending so many times. But the truth is I need it; I need him, and as it seems he needs me, too. That night was just the start of an addiction.
About a month later, it happened again, but this time we were both fully sober, only being drunk on each other. We both wanted it fully, very well in our minds knowing this. It was spoken out loud, in words and in action how much we craved for this. From the second time and after it became a reoccurring thing; an arrangment neither could deny. We mutually agreed that this was a perfect stress reliever - no strings attached, no emotions other than the friendship we had grown to share so it was not awkward being around each other, we just fulfilled each other's needs without expecting anything out of it, without others expecting anything from it. It was ment to be a deal, there were meant to be no feelings and we both thought we had that perfected, but we were mostly hiding our feelings as we were hidding our noises; badly.
Once again we found ourselves hiding away, this time it was more public than usual. His dressing room. The door wouldn't lock, and as much as I tried to deny it, the excitement of possibly getting caught is what drove me even more insane, besides the view of the man beneath my body.
— smutty moment in case you don't want to read it, it isn't necessary —
So there he was now, withering, struggling beneath my finger tips. It started softly, hands roaming his body, lips attached to each other. Every kiss was like nectar and every move was like petals. How could something feel so soft but so rough at the same time?
"Oh mio dio, fai qualcosa, per fav-" could not even finish his sentence as my hands moved all over his dick before my lips attached to it momentarily, a swift shuck on his tip and a kiss, before moving away again.
"I told you to be quiet, pet. It's like you want everyone to know what a naughty boy you are, no?" I swear the effect I had on the man. Just one simple word and his whole body shuddered, no need for anything else. "Besides, I am not sure if you should get rewarded for your behavior tonight."
"No no, please, I tried, I really did, per favore."
"That's just disrespect, pet. I might as well just," stop. All I did was stop as he wiggled beneath me on the couch.
"I said, be quiet! Now be a good boy and do a little something for me. Only then will you get what you want, yeah?"
He nodded his head, still so drowsy from the pleasure and the pain; such addictive delirium he was in.
"Use. your. words." His eyes were glossy, as if from crying, but he wasn't willing to stop this, so words he used. A simple si, nothing else, it was enough to show me how he was behaving.
"Now, show me how well you can pleasure me," I said, laying back on the couch, waiting for his hands and lips to do their work on me.
— end of smutty moment —
"Hey, Thomas, did I leave my ch- You're at it again?" At that moment everything went in slow motion. Damiano's voice was heard so close to us, inside the room, but could it be.
"Get the fuck out of here? What are you looking at?"
"Yes, yes, sorry," and with that he was out the room, leaving me and Thomas alone again.
For a second neither of us knew what to do or think. Not only did Damiano just walk in on us, on a position that no one was supposed to know of, he already knew. I couldn't understand which is worse in that momen. Did anyone else know? Did my superiors know? Oh my what if they did?
In the moment we just stopped. Paused our predicament and got dressed up again, hoping that we could clear it all up after their show. So we waited. We waited till the show was over. And until we all got together. But it was quiet, not a word about what happened. Damiano wouldn't say a word, just stare, sternly, seeing that even then neither of us could keep away. If looks could kill his would've been bloody but both Thomas and I would go down satisfied.
tag list: @bieberhoodforever
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saturnsstufff · 3 years ago
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The Empress- Darker the Weather // Better the Man
Warnings: topics from the empress, Violence
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Sarah laid on the makeshift cot. Lately with how everything had been pulled out, the war seemed like it had no end. Her eyes danced dully well her fingers fiddled with the locket from her lovers. Tears easily welled her eyes at the thought of them waiting for her.
Distant, everything is scattered
She missed them, she missed them more than she thought she truly would. The way their fingers danced warmly around her locks. Or how mornings were spent wrapped up tightly within her wives arms, the cold artic air contrasting to the warm blankets. She just missed the softness of the lingering moments.
When your mind is shattered and torn apart
She knew the war wouldn't last forever, yet with every passing day, it seemed the ending was fading. Sarah knew she shouldn't be mad at Technoblade or (y/n), but she couldn't help it.
Maybe it started with (y/n), the way she clinged and lulled the grand emperor into a false sense of pride. She easily Loathed that. Everyone within the empire assumed the Emperor was in control, but Sarah- being the general, knew exactly who had the power.
In an instant, I can be indifferent
But could she really bring herself to hate her? After all she was pregnant with the Emperor's baby as of currently.
She knew she shouldn't, yet it was so easy...
When she walked into the tent to see the Grand Emperor packing his things- it left her seething. He was going to leave them- leave his troops- his people- people who gave so much in hopes to end the conflict quickly. Technoblade should have known others were missing important family events, yet here they stood, proudly serving under his name.
The blame is always shifted from the start
And it was all because She, called- begged, him to come home.
She couldn't linger about any longer, she needed to distract herself. So grabbing a cloak she left the base camp, although some of the men asked about where she was leaving too. Sarah simply wiped her eyes with pride and assured them of her return.
Leafless treetops in the snow
Views of death and bitter cold
The walk towards the nearby village was a bore. Due to the cold, barely any animals found home within the snow, anymore Sarah was starting to see the appeal of moving somewhere warmer.
Instead of visiting a bakery or a warm café, Sarah found herself wondering into a bar. Perusal, only the odd were within the warm walls. Brute men and sly women hogging up around the bar.
Without a step of hesitance she took her seat at the bar, the two brooding men beside her looked as if they should have scared her off. Yet when they tried to comment on Sarah's seat she simply sent a cold glare. Towards them, a wordless death threat of silence.
When the men backed off, they ultimately decided to move seats completely. In turn a younger gentleman took their seats.
Sarah didn't acknowledge him, something seemed off about it, yet she couldn't place her finger quite on it. The man took a glance to her, his fluffier Blonde hair radiating a familiar tone.
"You seemed troubled..." the man purred, sending Sarah into a eyeroll. Typical men. She thought, knowing exactly where this was leading.
"Don't think like that." The man said, his green eyes flashing slightly as a warning. "I'm only here to hear out a strangers problem... I'm hear to help." He mused.
Although Sarah was offset and held the high urge to not tell a thing to this man. Something told her it was worth it. She needed to get it off her chest.
So she did.
And through that, she felt her nerves lessen. With layer, and layer dropped about Technoblade, his wife, his family, everything. She felt a silver lining.
Something that should have stuck out to her however, was when she went on about Technoblade, the Man seemed to just know everything about him. Even things she didn't know- things that seemed future related. It was odd.
Yet here she found herself, drink in hand, explaining her problems to a lost man at a bar. Through the end of her rant, the only thing he had to say was "Men are hard, but im sure you've herd it before..." at the line she shrugged and looked to her glass.
The swirling bourbon within held her reflection, but something eerier about it, was when she glanced to the man inside the glass. The reflection, although looking exactly like the man beside her, when looking closer she saw halo's crossing over his face, Golden beams of bended light.
When she looked back to the man, he was looking at her unamused. "You know, there is a saying out there, that you may find, useful..." the man said.
You can take all you want, but not who I am
"What is the saying..." Sarah asked cautiously, now alarmed from the mans reflection. She watched the man take a drink before smiling- almost sinisterly.
"The Darker the Weather, the Better the Man" he said. Sarah gave a odd look to him, not understanding, but it didn't take long for the man to elaborate. "Say something hardens the man your talking about. Something that will truly drive him cold. He may turn out better than you expected. After all, weaklings rarely survive war." The man said casually.
The line rang around inside Sarah's mind, what could make techno so cold, that he refused to go home. The man watched her, trying his best to hide the wicked smile he held.
But the darker the weather, the better the man
And then it hit her. Almost like sheer brilliance, it hit her dead on.
You can take all you want, but not who I am
The letters to you.
You can't have my-
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When Wilbur was tasked with waking you up, it was easy to say he was always overjoyed. With techno being absent from your side, Wil always tried his best to make you smile. Sometimes even Tommy would tag along.
Of course, Tommy didn't understand the severity of the moment how heartbroken and lost you felt, but he could easily tell you were sad at the least. So he also tried to cheer you up.
Sun shines through an open window
So on days he woke you, he would often run into Technoblade room, your silhouette laying within the oversized bed. He often viewed it as misplaced for how lonely your body looked.
But that didn't ever stop him from pulling the curtains open, the light rarely shined brightly through the glass, but in the end it did allow more light within. Well Wilbur pulled the curtains, tommy would often bounce on your bed, doing his best to make you smile.
Close the curtains real slow to hide the light
Although you would hide your face and try to hide, tommy wouldn't stop his smiling and joyful laugh. Yet Wilbur would always watch how your eyes would linger to techno's side of the bed. Wilbur hadn't seen the letters between you and techno, but he always saw how they tore you up. Whatever he was saying was hurting you, and Wilbur despised it.
But in time, maybe I can change it
At the least Wilbur was thankful you had Orion beside you, he was able to calm most of your haywire nerves. Of course, Wilbur never liked how close he was to you. But, he understood it was a time where you just needed someone.
We'll find someone who feels the same as me
Wilbur saw how you tried to hide your pain, your long nights spent crying, the days you refused to eat, the way you refused to acknowledge techno's lost presence. It was obvious who you were not on good terms.
Wilbur couldn't help his curiosity, he knew it was wrong, yet he did it anyway. When you had left your office for bed Wilbur snuck in, it was the first time he was in Technoblade office alone. The sword you made held high on the wall, truthfully it was poetic.
On a plaque underneath it, was lettering inscribed "the Empress" like the embodied empress, the sword similarly hung alone. With care he slid into your chair, slowly pulling the letters out to read.
You broke me down and stole my soul
And oh was his pissed. For good reason, he saw why everyone was so upset with him.
Left me vacant and all alone
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Out of everyone, Orion was the one to see you at your worst. Never had he assumed he would have been so close to someone that he would have gave everything to take your pain away. It left his blood boiling to see you hurt the way you were.
Months of being alone, feeling lost, unloved, unwelcomed. It truly left him with a burning hate. Orion knew he could treat you so much better, that he could take care and provide for you and your infant child.
Over the time techno was gone, he felt he was the only commander to truly hate his leader. Hate what he puts others through, he hated the sorrow he brought along.
But the darker the weather, the better the man
But nothing compared to the pure rage Orion felt when he herd what techno did to you. When you all rested at Foolish's summer home, you didn't lay with techno right off the bat, instead you explained what happened between techno and you.
And Orion was livid.
Techno had put his hands on you- had put his hands on your throat. Orion felt every bone in his body scream to get even. No one raises a hand to those they love, it was just a unspoken law. Orion would have taken to Technoblade as well, only thing holding him back was your tender soft words.
"Please don't- please Orion... let it stay between us..." you begged to him. Soft doe eyes pleading to the Enderian.
You can take all you want, but not who I am
Although it gnawed at Orion’s heart, he respected your call and left it lie. But that didn't stop what fallowed.
With the Enderian's blood flowing strong with rage, emotion, and the urge to defend, he couldn't help the way his eyes slit with the dragons hue, the blood curdling purple that drove fear into those around him.
You were far down the hall, everyone was asleep, it was a perfect time to let everything go.
You can't have my
And go he did..
He had never felt it, even though his blood ran with the Enderian's, he had never felt his anger hit the point of breaking.
The point that others forewarned him about. The point where his jaw would dislocate and his skin would tear open to allow the canines of a monster to show.
It wasn't a side he thought he had.
You can't have my
Yet when the thought laced through his mind again. The thought of techno putting his hands on you, he felt the pop, and the blinding rage that fallowed. Throwing the nearest object as he let the curdling scream out.
You can't have my soul
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When techno undressed for the night, he couldn't explain the shame and hurt that he felt. He couldn't meet his own gaze within the mirror. He knew you were willing to bathe with him again. Lay for the night and try and wish it to be what it once was.
But he knew he Hurt you. He knew it wasn't his direct doing, but he was involved- he took it too far.
He could still see the nail marks from where you grabbed his face, he hoped it wasn't the same for your neck.
He didn't deserve you.
He knew it. The way he lashed and you too willing asked him to bathe with you like it was over. You taking his hands, his face his body into your hands, you were truly too wonderful. To amazing for him.
But the darker the weather, the better the man
When you stepped into the bathroom he saw your tired eyes, your arms firmly around Thena. He saw how attached you were to her. She was your world, she was the world techno wanted to live with.
Techno knew he had no right to ask to hold her, not after what he had done to his tiny family. Yet he couldn't help but want to feel you and her in his arms. He wanted to redeem himself and show you he was worthy enough to protect you both.
You can take all you want, but not who I am
After all he was still your husband and her father in the end, it was his job, his one thing he cannot mess up. He knew others were on the line. Others more important than a endless battalion, you were his wife, his life, the mother of his daughter.
You were his world.
But the darker the weather, the better the man
So from that day, he swore. Dare anyone lay a hand on his wife, and daughter. He would raise hell upon them.
He would never loose you too like he almost did.
You can take all you want, but not who I am
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mobagehelllocal · 3 years ago
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“lucky ending” extra notes i & iii
Hi, I said I would do it but then I released ver i so long ago that I felt I shouldn't do this unless I had another version out at least so yay! finally! ... I'll add ver ii here when I get around to writing it... *shifty eyes* So as usual, this is just my thought process and ideas while writing lol.
*please do not read if you haven’t read “lucky ending” ver i (dorm leaders) & ver iii (rook & lilia).
It was inspired by an anon ask and the button tradition from Japanese schools.
The anon ask went like this: First at all, I like do much your writing and I hope you are doing well. Second, I was wondering what would happen if the MC (Fem!s/o I guess) decided to not go back to her world, like she decide stay with her villain? Can you do make headcanons of this for the dorm leaders? Thank you very much. – from Anonymous
The button tradition, as narrated by the first years, is done when one person confesses and the other responds by giving them the button closest to their heart. In most Japanese uniforms it’s the second uniform, but in Twisted Wonderland--I looked at the ceremonial robes and the closest button should be the fifth. Maybe. I could be wrong. 
The songs I listened to while writing this! 
The original dorm leaders (and Rook) was written while listening to “Lucky Ending”, the ending theme of Fruits Basket. The English lyrics (translated by otenkiame!) are: 
“Change is important. I want to do it well,/ but I wanna cry. It's still bad. I wanna cry” 
“The word "goodbye" has disappeared completely from this world/ All that remains is me fooling around next to you/A day you don't laugh won't come anymore”
“I've understood it since being here/ These feelings of wanting to protect you aren't a misunderstanding/ If we can call what connects us bonds,/ everything changes/ everybody changes/ Even if in a different world, it'll never be different/ everything changes/ everybody changes/ Don't change, ever/ Stay here, stay here”
I think it’s obvious why I chose to use this as the title of the series. It’s a story about change but it’s also a story about the things you don’t want to change... And I think it’s not wrong to want to hold onto things. 
I also listened to the same playlist that I listened to while writing “wendy?” “hello peter pan”:
“Can’t help falling in love” cover by Annapantsu, “If you’re not the one” by David Beddingfield, “Who Knew” by P!nk and “All Too Well” by Taylor Swift. 
For Lilia in particular, I was listening to three Beauty and the Beast songs on loop. “Evermore” by Josh Groban, “Days in the Sun” by the live action cast and, of course--”How does a moment last forever” by Celine Dion.
“How does a moment last forever?/ How can a story never die?/ It is love we must hold onto/ Never easy, but we try/ Sometimes our happiness is captured/ Somehow, our time and place stand still/ Love lives on inside our hearts and always will”
Also for Lilia, Tolerate It by Taylor Swift.
“You're so much older and wiser and I/ I wait by the door like I'm just a kid”
“I made you my temple, my mural, my sky/Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life”
Malleus was definitely the first piece finished. Closely followed by Vil’s. I believe there was a gap inbetween them before I did the others? I wrote bits and pieces of Leona, Idia, Kalim and Azul’s. I think I finished Leona, Idia, Kalim then Riddle because I distinctly remember saving Azul for last. 
One of the most important things for me, is that each story stands distinct of each other. So I gave myself a really hard time trying to figure out how each one uniquely belonged to each of the characters.
For the Prologue... I think because it’s set at the graduation of certain characters, I used that to my advantage and implied the stronger bonds between the Yuu!Reader and the entirety of the cast. Because a lot of time has passed and I feel like--regardless of what other people believe, bonds will be made and relationships will have strengthened enough for it to happen. 
Riddle is honestly another really difficult character for me to write. I generally do love him and I enjoy his story, but something about him is difficult and I’m not sure why. 
I think a part of me is also really miffed because from Heartslabyul-Savanaclaw, you could feel that Riddle really cared for Yuu on some level but then he just straight up disappears come Octavinelle chapter. I feel like there was potential to develop their relationship even more. 
He WENT UP AND TIED YOUR RIBBON I REMEMBER I WENT DOKI DOKI OVER THAT. 
I feel like because I’ve established that it’s a Yuu!Reader, it’s impossible for this story to not include both Ace and Deuce. So of course they featured in really big roles for this one, being responsible for telling Riddle the story.
I have to thank my friend, Mes, for bouncing ideas with me. They were the one who suggested what I could do with Riddle’s story by having ADeuce play such a big part!
I also tried my hardest to include Trey and Cater, and I’m pretty happy with their cameo. In a way, they definitely helped Riddle figure out his own feelings for you. 
My favourite lines are: “I think you earned that much. I don’t believe anyone’s ever been in your situation before so—there’s no right or wrong about what you’re doing. It’s all about what you want to do.”
I wish someone would tell this to Yuu in general though. They’re the only one who has ever been in their situation (to our knowledge at least) and like... they’re definitely allowed to be even more selfish. 
Leona is someone who I used to dislike a lot. I never hid that. It’s primarily because of how disappointed I am in the story of Savanaclaw probably. But like, I was always concerned about writing him properly because I thought that it was only right that I did right by him, because there would be people reading these stories who loved him. And I felt like I had to do right by that love. 
I think... it’s wrong to believe that characters... villains... cannot fall in love or “won’t fall in love.” I think it’s wrong also to think that “people don’t change for love.” 
In fact, people do change. You definitely shouldn’t change yourself to be loved, but... people change all the time to be their “better” selves. So whose to say that a good person, who you love, will not make you want to improve yourself? Isn’t that what we want when we meet people? To fall in love with someone who will ultimately make you better and never worse. 
Or so that’s how I try to write the Twisted characters when they fall in love... With an understanding that “morally” the person they are falling for is “kind” and “good” and how a part of them might just want to be better just for that person. (Especially Leona and Azul). They don’t necessarily have to be nice to everyone, but if they can be better for one person... We stan healthy character growth.  
But yeah, Leona is driven by understanding that he’s a very selfish person. But that he’s also very unfortunate and he doesn’t want tie you with someone who, he thinks, is actually worthless. He probably, deeply, thinks you deserve more.
Though his selfishness eventually wins out and well... Won’t you forgive him for it? :) For tying you down to this worthless second prince? 
I think his own self-awareness does make him try harder. Not for everyone or everything... but for you. Just for you. I think that would be Leona’s love language--spending time with you, trying for you.
He’d appreciate if you didn’t call him out on it though, that would be very embarrassing. 
Looking back, I’m surprised that it was the only version where none of the other boys from his dorm showed up lol. Which means Ruggie is the sole character who has yet to appear in the “lucky ending” series, huh.
My favourite lines from his story that still leaves me breathless and patting my past self in the back: ““I’m home—” you said—even if a part of you felt that home should have been two green eyes, a cocky smirk, and a warm patch of sunlight on the grassy ground.”
Like honestly, what was I on? Who was she?
Azul is, like Leona, someone who is so keenly aware of the things he’s lacking. In fact, he’s someone who thinks he’s lacking when he’s probably perfect in some aspects. He might act proud but a part of him--I think--thinks its not enough. It’s never enough. He can certainly do better still.
In that light, it’s why he thinks he’s undeserving of a partner. Especially one who is “kind” and “understanding.” While ultimately, Azul deserves people in his life who are that and “accepting” of him--I think he still thinks he doesn’t. 
And thats why he lets go of the Yuu!Reader. It’s why he doesn’t “chase” after her like Leona did.
It’s because he’s selfish, because he wants her--that he forces himself to let go. 
Azul needs someone who’ll tell him that he is worth something and that he’s definitely worth the effort. So please praise him a lot until he’s crying in happiness. I’m sure it’s the one thing he’s always wanted to hear from people around him.
Also my Poly!Octavinelle Agenda has never died and I am pleased Past!Ai got away with so much Poly!Octa hints in this story lol. But honestly, regardless of wht Octavinelle says... god, you can tell they genuinely care about each other.
I recently rewatched Octavinelle’s chapter and... by god, the amount of things I missed out on first watch. Jade’s concern when he realized Azul wanted to get rid of that photo... The fact Floyd was so willing to drop the fight to return to Azul too... Anyways, Poly!Octa Agenda for life.
Favourite lines: “Azul’s pathetic whimpers turned into guttural sobs. His fingers spread to cover his eyes—and his glasses slid off his face, down to his lap and then to the ground—at his actions. His whole body shook as he cried his heart out.”
It’s not as poetic as a lot of my other favourites, but for some reason these lines always get me when I reread them. There’s something so visceral about it. 
Azul’s piece is probably the least visually stimulating out of all these stories? His was so emotionally driven compared to the others and I worried a lot about that.
I think I remember I was crying so badly as I was writing this. 
Kalim is really hard for me because I feel like I struggle a lot with finding conflict in his character? He’s such a genuinely nice person, I find it hard to believe that the Yuu!Reader would feel alienated from him or something. So I brought in “environment” to get in the way. 
My use of celestial imagery for Kalim is because of the Scarabia trailer! I really loved how it put Kalim as the sun and Jamil as the moon. I definitely will take advantage of that when I get around to writing for Jamil.
So because I wanted to use the sun, I chose to use the idea of comets for Kalim? I think I remember something about how meteors are drawn to the gravitation pull of the sun and can “escape” it or “be destroyed” by it. Haha, hot. 
Jamil is someone who ultimately cares about Kalim too and I had fun writing his banter with the Yuu!Reader. I think I wanted to decribe the shadows licking his face reminscent to the marks from his Overblot but... I felt like doing that would give Jamil too much focus so I ultimately decided against it.
It would’ve been hot though. 
Oh yes, one thing I wanted to talk about is Kalim’s rushed proposal. I remember people talking about it in the tags, comments... even in asks at that time. The reason he does it is because he’s someone who didn’t realize his feelings until you spelled out your own. It was a sort of: “Oh. Right. That is the word I’d use to describe my feelings.” 
My favourite lines from his story is: “How does one bid goodbye to the sun?” and “No one ever willingly bids goodbye to the sun.They spend the rest of their lives trying to find the right way back to it.”
My god, who was this genius.
Vil is probably the most visually stunning out of all these stories. I feel like my stories go from super vivid imagery and setting to just complete emotional disasters lol. (Vil being the former and Azul’s being the latter... not that it’s bad, it actually suits the characters). 
Oh man, I remember thinking that Vil is such a hard character to write because we don’t know what his motivation for perfection is. All we knows is that he wants to be the best but, why? 
It’s like, for example, Idia. His motivations could be otaku-related. He doesn’t want to go to class because he’d rather go play or something. That sounds in character--but Vil was so hard because he wanted perfection.
But we already see him as such a perfect character, so what else did he need to be even more perfect? In that light, Chapter 5 did a really good job on presenting Vil’s motivations. 
But honestly, I think I can comfortably say that the Vil I’ve written so far is pretty accurate? To his character. I’m really grateful I read his chat lines because his comment about intelligence really got me thinking about his possible motivations. It made it really easy to understand that Vil wasn’t like majority of the real world’s influencers. 
One other thing that I was really happy about with his story is the use of the flower language. It’s something I hope I can use more because it’s so beautiful. 
Oh! And the roses the Yuu!Reader talks about are double delight roses. They are specifically bred to have two colors--yellow in the center and pink on the outside. I thought it fitting that the Yuu!Reader breed special roses for Vil.
They can be called... err... Vil Roses?
My favourite lines from his story is:  ““My happiness will not be dictated by others—no, Vil Schoenheit is a person who will grasp happiness with his own hands.” [...] “I’m giving you this button because I’ve already found happiness by your side.”” 
This line was actually inspired by Zelda C.W.’s MYth series. Specifically Hera’s story, Will. 
Idia ...for him, I somehow had a very hard time imagining him trying to tell the reader to stay. Like that didn’t compute for me? I felt like his version was better approached in a more comedic light somehow. 
I also felt that it would be cuter if the Yuu!Reader had already chosen to stay and Idia would need to hastily retrack his confession... Unfortunately, Yuu!Reader won’t let him. 
Honestly looking back on it, I wonder how much of Chapter 6 is going to make me scream and want to rewrite Idia’s part? 
My favourite lines from his story is: “He was never particularly good at lying—nor was he good at keeping secrets from you. You were a person he considered a dear friend—and he was always the type of person who ended up spilling everything to you. He liked being able to talk about the things he enjoyed—he liked that he had found someone who wanted to hear him out.”
A lot of my interpretation for Idia is closely linked to personal experience as an anime, manga and gaming fan. It was just a couple of years ago where people would actually be bullied for liking these things--but nowadays its become a norm. It’s... stunning actually but it makes me happy to know that maybe nobody will be judged for loving anime.
That being said, Idia’s longing to find someone he can talk to is something I really relate too--back then, it was so difficult to find someone to talk to about my interests... So I interpreted Idia as much the same. That what he enjoys about the Yuu!Reader is their ability to simply sit and listen to him talk. 
Malleus... man, recently I’ve been starting to fall in love with him all over again. He was my first oshi ever... Anyways, moving on. You think I’ve talked enough about immortal x mortal but nope, we are not done. I love this theme in general, romantic or platonic. 
I will never shut up about it you can’t make me. 
Sebek having a good enough friendship with Yuu!Reader is such a delicious concept. Like mutual respect and Sebek understanding that Yuu!Reader gives Malleus a different type of companionship that Sebek, Silver or Lilia couldn’t... 
And also, ultimately, Sebek and Yuu!Reader do love Malleus. In different ways, but I like the thought of Sebek respecting that and respecting the Yuu!Reader.
Me realizing just now that Silver joins Ruggie in the: “has never appeared in a lucky ending fic club.”... Sorry Silver, I swear soon. Once we get more content on you.
Celestial themes for Malleus are primarily, again, because he only ever seemed to meet you at night. And I thought it would be wonderful, if you were a bright spark to him. 
Favourite lines are definitely:  “Oh, bright light… I would prefer to live the rest of your life by your side… rather than spend centuries contemplating what it could have felt… to hold you in my arms.”
I am, always, going to be such a big sucker for the idea of immortals constantly remembering and loving mortals. Always holding them close in their memories, because in that way--their lovers have become immortal with them. 
I also like to imagine that he eventually figures out a way to connect your worlds together so you can still talk to your friends and family from that world. He is one of the most powerful magicians around, I’m sure its possible.
Rook was honestly the most difficult piece for me to write because he’s so hard(?) for me to understand. He’s a mess of contradictions honestly and I... guess I’m excited to see what he’ll do come Chapter 6. 
I actually rewrote his story so much. I got about 500 words with a different idea/plot in mind before deleting that completely and restarting from scratch. 
I feel like Rook is someone who talks big and talks about love without actually knowing what it truly might feel like. He’s someone who doesn’t understand it and ends up mistaking it for his fascination. 
Aside from me enjoying inserting other characters from the same dorm as much as possible, I felt that Vil was the perfect person to snap some sense into Rook.
Epel’s appearance there is basically to reflect how much I really hope the first year kids get really close to one another. 
Rook is also someone who I think, doesn’t try to explain himself too much. He’s someone who I think talks a lot, but if people don’t understand him then he doesn’t need to be understood? That’s my impression. Lol, when “lucky ending” became a character study. 
I also really loved the idea that Rook was fine with people running from him--to him that makes it all the more thrilling. But then you start running away from him and that just ends up making dread pool in his stomach. 
My favourite lines from his story: “‘When something ends, it must be sad. So, tell me then, how an ending could be so beautiful?’ [...] .‘But there was one ending that was beautiful, non?’ [...] ‘That’s right. ‘They lived happily ever after’—are those not the words that define a beautiful ending?’”
I used the dusk metaphor for Rook. My idea is that he starts seeing dusk as an ending and how he can’t fathom how any “ending” is beautiful. When a story ends, it’s not beautiful to him, humu. But when that ending is the happily ever after then... That makes all the difference. 
Lilia was actually easier than Rook’s but also fairly difficult. I had written the middle of Lilia’s piece while stumped on Rook’s actually. Lilia’s was probably easier because I love the idea of immortals and mortals.
I don’t really like the idea of mortals becoming immortals. Like, yes, it’s certainly sweet and spending eternity with a one true love is definitely the best possible ending but... I think there’s so much weight in an immortal choosing to love a mortal while knowing that they will ultimately lose them.
The biggest theme for Lilia is definitely time.
Thinking about it now... There’s been a lot of things in real life that’s just... Made me think about how we have less time than we actually think we have. And I think I ended up channeling that through Lilia... Though I feel like it is ultimately things Lilia would think about though. 
The most important imagery would probably be the stars.
I honestly wanted to avoid it because I used celestial imagery for both Kalim and Malleus but the words just flowed out in a way that I felt that I couldn’t replace. So I went with it. 
Lilia is no stranger to loneliness. One of the reasons he feels less alone is because he has family now and he doesn’t want to rob you of that. Family is so important to him because they are people who are meant to be with you--they are people who will make you less lonely--or so thats how I think? he thinks. 
My favourite lines from his story: “He would relish in the way—You made the world pause. You made a moment extend into an eternity. You made an immortal crave just a little more time.”
I’m so immensely proud of this one? I don’t really have much else to say. There’s something so raw about it that I love. Also the part where it continues on to say that  “Because there is never enough time.”
Me realizing my extra notes is just half me simping over these characters, half sharing headcanons, have actually giving good advice? perspective?, half song lyrics, half character study/analysis?
“lucky ending” is about change. Whether we want them to happen or not it’s... the human condition to change. For better or worse, we change--day by day. I think we all operate under a small panic about how everyday things are changing...
But “lucky ending” is also about the things that don’t change. Won’t change. Will never change. The things worth holding onto, the thing worth fighting for... or so I’d like to think.
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Five Thousand Miles
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Warning: Angst, descriptions of covid patients’ suffering, hospitals
A/n: I researched a lot about what covid patients go through in a hospital and their treatments but still took a couple creative liberties so I apologise if the descriptions aren’t accurate. Do tell me how you liked it!
Summary: Y/n tests positive for covid-19 and has to be hospitalised. Her boyfriend, Harry is five thousand miles away from her.
“Harry, I’m scared,” Y/n confessed as she readied herself, struggling with wearing her mask and gloves while also balancing her phone to continue talking to her boyfriend on FaceTime.  
“It’ll be alright, you are taking every precaution you can. Plus, you have to get out of the house sometime, you can’t survive on air alone. Trust me, baby, you can do this.”
Harry’s voice was keeping her grounded, she wanted to continue talking to him but knew it would be impossible to shop and talk to him at the same time, so she nodded at him, “You’re right. Okay, I’ll call you when I get back. Safely.”
Taking a deep breath, she went out the door to a world of germs, people, and newly acquired viruses.
Being in the middle of a pandemic alone wasn’t her favourite situation to be in. It felt better when she had company, people who would help her buy the essentials. As soon as situations eased up a bit, her quarantine partners left New York to be with their families. She was all alone now.  
Looking at all the empty streets, Y/n was left with a weird sensation. The city that never slept had never been quieter. She was so used to being woken up by car horns and car alarms in the morning that during the first few weeks of lockdown, she found it hard to wake before noon. This quiet was almost poetic, like the stuff of post-apocalyptic films. Y/n wasn’t sure if the silence comforted her or terrified her.
There were more people in the store than she had expected, though all in their masks, she breathed in relief. She went straight to the personal hygiene section, remembering the most important item on her list, only to find that the store was all out of toilet papers, the one thing films didn’t guess would be a big problem. She rolled her eyes at the selfish people who had panic-bought more stuff than they would have needed.
She tried every store near her neighbourhood, and eventually was able to get the last set in the final shop she visited. Tired from driving all over the city in search of toilet papers, she went to the check-out line to finally buy her stuff. 
Standing in her place, Y/n noticed the people in the store, few whose foreheads were furrowed, their eyes darting around making sure they were maintaining the mandated distance from others, panic evident on their mask-covered faces. Some others appeared plain bored. Already used to the new routine and just wanting to get it over with. 
She was so lost her observations, she almost didn’t hear it, the woman behind her in the line coughed loudly, making people jump farther apart than the required six feet.
“It’s just allergies,” the woman announced in a nasal voice, rolling her eyes at people’s reaction. 
As Y/n’s turn came at the check-out counter, she found herself frozen to the ground, she didn’t know why but the cough threw her off. It felt weird to react the way she did, but she could not make herself move. She was nervous. She wanted to laugh at herself for feeling this way because of a measly cough, but it wasn’t so simple and right now all she felt was fear.
“Oh for god’s sake,” the woman moved forward, pushing her aside and placed her items at the counter. Even the employee there seemed wary, but knew he had to comply to keep his job.
It was only after the woman left, was Y/n finally able to move, she shook her head as if to shake the incident away from her mind and finally paid for her items.
She ran all the way home, even though she knew she shouldn’t have. She couldn’t help herself, she just wanted to move away from the public and into the safety of her home as soon as she could. 
As she entered her house, Y/n felt her chest tighten, as though someone was sitting on it, she couldn’t breathe properly. It felt like she was breathing through a squished straw. 
In between her wheezing, she searched around for her inhaler in her side bag. She felt her breath coming back a few seconds after she breathed in the medicine. She fell to her knees in exhaustion and took in a few more breaths to calm down.
She then picked herself up and embarked on an extensive set of tasks- Taking off her gloves and mask, removing her shoes at the entrance of her house, washing her hands. But, this somehow didn’t seem enough to her, so she went ahead and took another shower, just to be extra sure.
While in the shower, she cursed her asthma. It wasn’t usually a big hurdle in her life, but now, everything was a hundred times worse. This was the first time she had feared for her life. Her anxiety was at an all-time high and all she had to keep her sane was her daily FaceTime calls with Harry.
Opening her laptop to do her work, she checked the numbers again- seventy thousand new cases. She sighed and closed her laptop, not having the motivation to do any work. She scrolled through her social media to distract herself only to be shoved more news about the coronavirus, she let out a groan of frustration and switched off her phone, deciding to take a nap instead.
Only she couldn’t sleep. She thought back to all the plans she made with Harry, promising him to be there next to him while he toured the globe. She laughed at the situation and how no one in a million years could have guessed the current world state.
She didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she must have as she woke up with a jolt in her bed after a strange dream. She shook her head and looked out her window to see the sky dark. She switched on her phone, it was 8 pm. She cursed to see three missed calls from Harry and one from her friend, Sarah.
Preparing herself, she called Harry. 
“Where were you, I called like three times?” His voice was deeper than usual, she guessed he had just woken up because of her call. She calculated it to be 4 am in London, where Harry was. She felt bad for waking him up like that.
“I know, I switched off my phone and fell asleep. Sorry,” she grimaced.
Harry hummed in acknowledgement, “how you doing?”
She could hear rustling on the other side and imagined a sleepy Harry sitting up in his bed, his hair messy from his sleep, “Just missing ya’.”
“I know, I hate that I had to leave you like that, wish you could come with me,” there was a hint of a whine in Harry’s voice which made Y/n smile.
“Wish I had a visa for England, I really wanted to come too,” and she meant that. At least that way, she wouldn’t have to be alone.
“I’ll video call you tomorrow, it’s late here, or rather early,” what he was saying next was obscured by his yawn. She sighed, she missed him too much.
“Yeah sure, see you tomorrow, bye.”
“Bye.”
When the call disconnected, she messaged Sarah to ask what the call was about, who didn’t respond. She shrugged her shoulders and went down to the kitchen to start preparing for dinner.
~
It started with a headache. She didn’t ponder much on it and instead only took medicine to curb the pain enough to continue working. 
It was when she felt a certain roughness in her throat, did she pay attention. Her cough worsened within days, she was having a hard time breathing normally. It felt like a less severe but constant asthma attack. She took her temperature, which showed her to be having a fever at 101°F. 
It took her some time to even process what was happening to her, she initially wondered if it could be the flu or something non-covid, but she knew she couldn’t take the chances. Harry was the first person she informed.
“What are you saying?!” Harry was frantic, his forehead creased as he ran his fingers through his hair, messing them up.
“I have a fever, a cough, and I’m having difficulty breathing,” counting the symptoms on her fingers, she informed him again.
“It could be the flu, Y/n you didn’t even go outside. How could it be anything else?”
“H, I did go out to buy supplies, didn’t I? Maybe I got infected there somehow. We shouldn’t be kidding ourselves. I have to at least get tested.” You didn’t want to show him just how scared you were, but it was hard to keep your voice from cracking.
“I am scared, H,” you let the tears out. Your shoulders shook while you tried to wipe your tears as they were leaking from your eyes.
Harry closed his eyes, not being able to see you sobbing, “I know baby, but I know you’ll be strong. I will take the next flight to LA. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He promised, his mouth set in a hard line as a strong look of determination crossed his face.
  She shook her head with as much strength she could muster, “No Harry, you shouldn’t keep travelling, plus, you can’t stay with me and I don’t want you staying at some hotel. It’s not safe.”
“Bu—”
“—I won’t hear another word about it. I have Sarah, and you have your work to take care of. I will be fine.”
She knew Harry wanted to say more, object to her claims, she would not be fine. But he knew it would be of no use, once she had made up her mind, it would be impossible to change it. So, he settled for a low nod.
“Keep me updated, I’ll also talk to Sarah. She better be there for it all. You should now call your doctor, see what’s the next step.”
Y/n nodded, smiling that Harry understood. She didn’t want to trouble him. She also wanted to pretend for a few more seconds that this was not a big deal.
She called Dr Gupta, her heart was beating at an all-time high and her energy was at an all-time low. She barely had enough breath to tell her doctor about her situation who booked an appointment for her to go to the nearest covid testing facility.
She took a deep breath, wore her protective gear and drove to the testing lab which was a ten-minute drive from her place. She was already out of breath by the time she reached the place.
When she was done with her test, she felt worse than she had before. Sarah called to check in on her, but Y/n didn’t have the energy to talk so Sarah video-called her, seeing Y/n’s face would have to be enough for her at that point.
Sarah’s eyes softened, seeing her best friend heaving, eyes shut and groaning due to her chest pain. But she knew, more than anything, her best friend was scared.
“I hope with everything that I am that the test comes back negative,” her voice was tinged with worry and genuine hope.
Y/n could only nod.
The call came two days later, Y/n sat up in her bed, she had been dreading this moment these past days, with Harry and Sarah to distract her.
The test came back positive.
She fell back into her bed, cushioned by her pillow and started shaking uncontrollably as she sobbed.
She felt insanely dehydrated by the time she stopped crying, she didn’t even get to call either of her friends. She stood up with a groan, and following one slow step after the other, she went to the bathroom to wash her now tear-stained face.
The call she made to Harry wasn’t an easy one. She knew he would take the news worse than she had, and her reaction was not a light one.
“I prayed. I promise I prayed Y/n,” his words were almost indecipherable in between his cries. His every tear followed the other with a ferocity never before noticed by Y/n.
Her own tears followed suite, she was so sure she had finished up all her tears, but she was proven wrong. Soon, the only conversation happening between the two was through their sobs.
She wanted to curse all the gods, she didn’t want to go through the pains of having this disease and she didn’t want to do it alone. Even though she had Harry and Sarah standing right beside her, knowing they would not be able to meet her in person, she had never felt more alone.
“I don’t feel good, H,” she confessed. Breathing was becoming difficult day by day, she would rather have an asthma attack twice a day than having this constant pressure on her chest and throat. She knew she had to tell him, “I have to get admitted to the hospital first thing in the morning tomorrow, they say my covid could be worsened because of my asthma,” she let out in between a series of coughs stopping her after every word.
Harry nodded, his heartbeat rising. He cursed himself for leaving his girlfriend alone in the country. If he hadn’t left, she would not be going through this, “I’ll tell Sarah, you go rest,” he promised, seeing it get increasingly difficult for her to even sit up in her bed.
If Y/n was scared before, then the hospital made it thousand times worse. It was a scary sight, the covid ward was in an isolated area of the hospital, the doctors and nurses were in full PPE kits, the patients were lined up next to each other separated by curtains. She passed a room with ICU written on the glass door. With what she could see, she noticed several other patients, some with masks covering their nose, probably providing oxygen. Others seemed in worse conditions, they were intubated via ventilators. 
Seeing them facing the same crisis together, although away from their families, but forming a new family of sorts in solidarity to their conditions gave her little comfort. Those who wore the nasal masks and thus still had the ability to talk were speaking to each other, even reading something from their phones to those who were on ventilators. Covid had seemed like a situation she would have to go through alone, her initial views though were changing.
She was admitted to the regular covid ward, with the rest of the non-critical patients and would be observed overnight. She was assisted with oxygen through a nasal mask, just like the people around her, she had noticed.
“Hey, I’m Cecilia, call me Cece,” a thirty-something woman introduced herself from beside you. The curtain was partially open, allowing Y/n to see only her face.
“Y/n, nice to meet you,” she called back, smiling as much her energy would allow.
“Never guessed this is how I would be spending my lockdown,” she laughed lightly, pointing to her mask. She then followed it up with a cough, groaning with the strain.
Y/n felt bad for her, only to be subjected to the same.
These were going to be some long days. Though she did feel better knowing she would not be facing this alone. She looked around the room, at probably twenty patients around her, in the same situation as her, if not in worse conditions. She then thought back to the people in the ICU and what they must be subjected to.
Her phone brought her attention to itself, it was Harry FaceTiming her; putting on a smile, she picked up the call. 
“Hey handsome,” she suggestively raised her eyebrows, not wanting to worry him any further.
Harry did not even notice her words, he was too busy gawking at her nasal mask, “what is that?” worry coating his voice.
“Oh just my new accessory, you like it?” although Y/n wanted to look nonchalant, the pain in her voice could not be hidden, she sighed, “They are giving me oxygen through this.”
Harry’s eyebrows were knitted together in worry, Y/n wanted to make him feel better. She could not rest knowing her love was out there worrying about her, “Look I made a friend,” she turned the camera to Cece laying next to her six feet apart, “Cece, say hi to my boyfriend, Harry.”
She had forgotten her boyfriend was a big deal but was reminded of it by Cece’s gasp, “Harry freaking Styles ohmigod ohmigod,” Cece squealed, making Y/n forget for a second that she was not a teenager.
“Hullo love,” Harry greeted her in his ‘fan voice’, a smile graced her lips. “Hope you beat covid and get better soon.” Cece’s smile made Y/n realise how long these people had gone without having a reason to smile and how desperately they needed it. 
 Cece’s squeal garnered the attention of the people around them. Noticing the pop icon on the phone screen, conversations started flowing between everybody. Introductions were made, friendships were formed and smiles were passed around, along with Y/n’s phone. So, she asked a nearby nurse if they could access a bigger screen so everyone could see and talk to her boyfriend.
When the staff hooked up a screen, Harry gave all the patients an impromptu concert. Y/n had not smiled in days the way this concert had made her. She expected fear, anxiety, deaths and instead got friends, laughter, and music.
When Harry was done performing for his audience, he gave her a brief look. “I love you,” she whispered to him, smiling when he returned the words.
The next day, she was woken up by the noises around her, she panicked for a moment, not recognising the place she was in; but calmed when she regained her senses and noticed the blue curtains of the hospital, several machines and the people they were attached to. 
She made a short conversation with Cece but had to stop because she was getting out of breath. With every passing moment, her chest pain too was increasing. She did keep listening to people chat around her. Some were on calls with their family, others were busy reading books and listening to music. She kept getting shouts of gratitude from the people in the ward for Harry the previous night.
For the next two days, that kept her going. She learned about her fellow patients, Jonathan was 59 years old, his son was an engineer and he couldn’t have been more proud; Jaya was a 42-year-old woman with bronchitis and wanted to visit Paris at least once in her life. Marc was a 50-year-old diabetic who was in a band in the 80s, they were planning a reunion show. She met countless people, each with their own stories. 
At about 10 am on a Thursday, her situation worsened. The doctors had come for a routine checkup, only to see that her oxygen levels were dropping steadily and she needed immediate assistance.
She was shifted to the ICU ward. She had to be intubated and thus was given a board and marker to write anything if she wanted.
“—Yes sir, she was shifted to the ICU this morning—”
“—We can’t say much right now, but we’ll inform you if anything changes—”
“—Okay, take care, Sir.”
Y/n heard bits and pieces of the conversation her doctor was having with Harry, although since she was on medication, she couldn’t register much of it. The nurses brought her phone to her, a silhouette moving on the screen.
“Hey baby, how are you feeling?”
Y/n pondered how to describe the immense pain burning through her respiratory passage and the lack of oxygen eating away her lungs and not give him nightmares. So, she offered him a tired thumbs up.
Harry watched his girlfriend cough, her face contorting in pain and could not control his tears, he didn’t want to think about the worst-case scenario but could not stop his mind from going there. He knew how low the chances were of people on ventilators coming back. But he had to remain positive, someone had to. She needed him to be strong for her. So, he wiped away his tears, put on his best brave face and talked to her.
He called her every three hours. Giving updates to her about his day, talking to her about whatever he could. He talked enough to compensate for the silence on her part. She smiled through every sentence, even though he could not see it, even though it wasn’t visible on her face, even though she didn’t have the power to, she smiled.
And she listened. So she didn’t have to focus on Josephine dying next to her or Augusta who was a hair length’s distance away from dying the previous day. Even though doctors told her that her situation was worsening, she listened because that became the only thing keeping her from giving up.
As her pains didn’t go away, and her condition worsened further, she was given sedatives and was thus mostly asleep. Which she was thankful for, for she couldn’t take it anymore, she just wanted to rest.
Dr Garcia came by routinely to check on her, talking to her about the outside world, gave her the gossips being passed around the hospital. Even though she was barely awake to listen to any of it, she was thankful for the kind doctor providing a calm lull while doing her job.
“Mr Styles, I’m afraid her condition isn’t getting any better. She should have shown atleast some improvements,” Dr Garcia informed Harry in a heavy voice.
On the other side of the line, Harry didn’t know what to do, it felt like someone was pulling away the floor under him. “What happens now?” He asked, praying for some hopeful news.
“We really can’t say much, each case is different, but it would be better uhm,” the doctor was thinking through her words, wanting to be as considerate as possible, “is there any family of hers that would want to talk to her?”
Harry almost let out a sob as he realised what the doctor was implying ‘is there anyone who would want to give her a final goodbye?’
“No, Y/n’s family passed away in an accident when she was 16, it’s just me and Sarah,” he explained, his voice on the verge of cracking, it was becoming harder to get words out of his mouth. He didn’t want to talk anymore, he just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry.
“Oh, I understand,” Dr Garcia nodded, feeling sorry for the young girl who had stolen the hearts of everyone in the ward. She was a sweet girl, who had dreams and still held love for life even after everything she had seen. “This is not the end, Harry, she can still recover, God, I pray she does, this is not the end.” She really believed the words she was saying and wanted Harry to feel the same.
He nodded, tears clouding his eyes. He too really wanted to believe that.
A beat of silence fell upon the conversation, both in deep thought, “Harry, she wrote something on her board when she was awake yesterday,” Harry’s ears pricked up, “she wrote and I quote ‘I will not give up’ with a smiley face at the end. She is a fighter, you remember that,” Dr Garcia gave her parting ways and went back to her work.
Y/n’s words were imprinted in Harry’s mind. After the call, he made himself more presentable, wiping his tears and drove up to the church near Y/n’s house. He had come back to LA after Y/n was admitted to the ICU. He couldn’t be five thousand miles away from her in that condition.
The church was almost empty, which was surprising to Harry, given the situation, but he wasn’t complaining. He walked up the aisle, his hand grazing each wooden bench as he reached the altar and kneeled. He didn’t what to pray or how to pray, but he tried anyway. He closed his eyes and called out to God; he prayed with every part in his body, with every bone, every muscle, every fibre of being for his love to get better. For her to keep fighting. And for him to gain enough strength to deal with it all.
All this time, he had been feeling so helpless, not being able to do anything to make her better. But he made peace with the fact that the only thing he could do right now was to have faith. To have faith in God to guide him and her, in Y/n to be the stubborn strong-willed woman that she was and continue fighting, he had faith in his faith and that it would not disappoint.
He stayed there, talking to God until the closing hours. He then went back to Y/n’s place and sat on the sofa, waiting by his mobile, ready for any phone call he might receive.
He was awoken the next day by his phone ringing on the coffee table next to him. He looked at the time, it was noon, he picked up.
“Congratulations Harry, she’s getting better,” the relief was evident in Dr Garcia’s voice.
Harry felt himself getting physically lighter.
“I mean there is still a long way to go, but her oxygen levels are rising, her lungs are recovering, she’ll be soon able to breathe on her own. Harry, she did it, she won,” Harry didn’t listen to the rest of what the doctor was saying, he was too busy falling in love with the love of his life. It felt like he himself had come back from the dead. He knew his faith could never disappoint.
“Thank you doctor, I’ll be waiting for the call when you tell me she’s tested negative,” he laughed, his lungs breathing in air after what felt like a lifetime.
Dr Garcia chuckled along with him and agreed, telling him Y/n would call him when she woke up.
~
“You know I love you right? My fighter,” Harry tightened his grip on her hand and kissed her knuckles.
Y/n’s head fell back as laughter bubbled out of her, “You just told me that like two minutes ago.”
“I know, but a few weeks ago I thought I would never get to say it to you ever again. So, I will keep reminding you every minute that I love you and that you are the strongest person I know,” he snaked his arms around her, placing his head on top of hers, “I really missed holding you.”
She breathed in Harry’s scent, slowly regaining her sense of smell, she had missed this too. She cupped his cheek with her right hand and gave him a light peck.
Harry grabbed the back of her head, keeping her lips on his, deepening the kiss. When they separated, he rested his forehead against hers, not wanting her to move even an inch away from him.
Noticing her deep breaths, he whispered in her ears, “This is the only reason I want you to be out of breath. This and well... the other one,” he smirked.
“Oh hush you,” Y/n blushed, she sucked in a breath through her teeth, “Shit man, I love you.”
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c-optimistic · 4 years ago
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scar
Kara is not mysterious.
She’s not, though she makes a valiant attempt at it. She’s secretive and brilliant and more than talented at putting on an act, but she’s not mysterious. While there are dozens of things that don’t make sense about her, she has a refreshing habit of wearing her heart on her sleeve, consequences be damned, and even if Lena doesn’t understand what Kara does, she certainly can follow why.
Which is why the eyebrow thing is so…confusing.
(Perhaps the more accurate word is frustrating, frustrating that Lena can’t figure it out unlike some of Kara’s other idiosyncrasies.  
Understanding Kara’s preference for fatty and sugary foods was simple enough. Her Kryptonian physiology meant that fats and sugars took longer to break down, leaving her feeling full longer. Her partiality for movies with happy endings also made perfect sense—after all, who would wantto have more tragedy in their life? Even her habit of listening for Alex’s heartbeat every night before bed made sense; it had been how she’d fallen asleep when she first landed. But the eyebrowthing…)
Lena studies Kara as she settles into bed, watching her take her time to remove her glasses and run her fingers through her hair. The lamp on Lena’s side of the bed (it still leaves her a little breathless whenever she thinks things like that—whenever she notices the second toothbrush in the bathroom or nearly trips over one of Kara’s boots still laying where she kicked them off carelessly the night before) is still on, illuminating the thick file Lena’s been going through steadily for the past hour or so, waiting until Kara got back from dealing with the rogue alien causing a ruckus downtown.
“What?” Kara asks when Lena continues to stare rather than put out the lamp or put her work away. “Is there still gunk in my hair? I washed it out as best I could but—”
“—why do you do that?”
Kara blinks.
“…uh, wash my hair?” she asks, frowning as she settles back onto the pillows, looking over at Lena with playfully narrowed eyes.
“No. Why do you do that?” she asks again, this time raising her hand to press her fingertips right above her left eyebrow, attempting to demonstrate Kara’s inexplicable behavior. “You touch your scar before bed every night.”
“Do I?”
“You don’t realize you’re doing it?” Lena asks incredulously, her eyebrows rising. She puts the thick file away, shifting so that she’s more settled against the pillows and is facing Kara. “Though maybe it makes sense. I suppose someone like you wouldn’t be all that used to scars.”  
“I don’t touch it because I’m not used to scars, Lena,” Kara laughs, leaning over and pressing a kiss to Lena’s temple. She’s being annoyingly calm about it, either not realizing or not caring that this one unexplainable habit has been driving Lena nuts since she first started spending the night. “It’s just…comforting.”
“Comforting?” Lena repeats blankly, not quite sure what Kara could possibly mean. She doesn’t like drawing comparisons between herself and Kara—that’s just begging for a downward spiral, who could possibly want to be compared to Supergirl?—but in this one instance, she can’t help herself. Lena has a great deal of scars (and she allows herself a moment to be poetic as she thinks of all the metaphorical scars Lex and her parents have left on her) and she hates them all. There’s the thin white scar on her left index finger, where she accidentally cut herself while cooking, a careless moment brought on by the first news reports about Lex’s plots against Superman. There’s a darker, misshaped scar on her right knee, where she’d landed on hard concrete after a particularly brutal lesson on ‘how to be a Luthor.’ (Lillian had been horrified by the incident—by her own ability to do such a thing to a child or the very sight of bright red blood rolling down that child’s leg—and had apologized for it later, lavishing Lena with attention and care, very vigilant from that moment on to physically treat her gently, even as the emotional abuse continued.) And of course there’s the scar below her ribcage, which she doesn’t remember the exact details of, just knowing it involved tequila and bad choices. This scar she’s come to love; Kara has not once allowed the opportunity to kiss that scar go by.
Lena doesn’t like any of her scars. They only serve as a harsh reminder of who she was, and she rather likes the person she is now. But Kara’s looking at her softly and her eyes are so blue and Lena has to admit that if someone asked her right in that moment, she’d say her girlfriend was absolutely mysterious.
“Why?” she asks, even though every part of her is screaming that she can figure it out later—just like all the other things—even though a part of her believes she’s showing exactly how invested she is, just how important Kara is to her, and vulnerability is one scar Lena’s still not quite sure how to feel about. (When she’s feeling more poetic, she can admit that it’s not a scar at all, not yet. It’s a deep and still bleeding wound, and she thinks with Kara’s help it might heal into a neat thin line rather than the jagged edges for which she has a propensity.)
“On Krypton…” Kara begins slowly, reaching out to take Lena’s hand, threading their fingers together and gently running her thumb over Lena’s skin. It’s a mindless gesture, but one that has turned into a moment to latch onto—yet another simple thing that can take Lena’s breath away. “I had no powers on Krypton. I was…normal.” Kara pauses long enough to take a deep breath she doesn’t need, shuffling over enough that her entire body is pressed up against Lena’s, hand never ceasing its ministrations. “I could get hurt, bleed, become so exhausted that I wanted nothing more than my bed, any day, any time. I didn’t need kryptonite or a rogue alien to make me feel like everyone else.”
“You got the scar on Krypton,” Lena guesses, unable to help the track of her eyes. Realizing there’s not point to pretending, she reaches up with her free hand and gently runs the pad of her thumb over the scar, watching as Kara’s eyes flutter shut.
“I was young when I got it,” she all but whispers. “I’m not sure exactly how. I remember it involved my father and uncle and one of their experiments.” She laughs a little, lost in another world—a long since lost world. “My father petitioned the Science Guild to allow me to join as soon as possible, but they wanted to wait until I was a little older. So my father and uncle had me work with them in secret—my mother was furious when she found out.” She laughs again, opening her eyes and meeting Lena’s gaze steadily. “I remember her lecturing me as she cleaned me up—didn’t even allow Kelex near me. At the time, I didn’t think it was very fair. It’s funny,” she adds softly, not sounding amused at all, “I’d give anything to hear her yell at me again.”
“Kara…” Lena tries, but she doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what she cansay. How does one comfort their girlfriend over the loss of their entire planet, their family, their friends—the only life they’d ever known? She can lay here and recite as many platitudes as she’d like, nothing would take that sadness out of Kara’s eyes.
(Lena knows, she’s had her fair share of scars, understands how much pain they could still cause even though for all intents and purposes the skin had healed over, the tissue repaired itself.)
“I used to hold my mother’s necklace as I prayed to Rao every night,” Kara says suddenly, breaking through Lena’s thoughts, looking inexplicably calm and at peace. “It seemed important to do, especially when I really began coming into my powers and didn’t need sleep.”  She tightens her grip on Lena’s hand just briefly, letting out a soft sigh as she does so. “In some ways, it makes me glad I gave the necklace to Mon-El.”
“Kara, I’m sorry, but that doesn’t make sense. It was the last thing you had of your mother’s.”
“And I got it when she was putting me into a pod and saying goodbye. Carrying it around…carrying it around felt heavy. It was a constant reminder of losing my planet, of years in that pod, of nights spent crying with the Danvers…of nearly dying myself.” For the first time she looks away, apparently invested in the patterns of the curtains. “But the scar is from a moment when my uncle’s experiment went wrong and my mother cleaned me up and my father kept apologizing and snuck me a treat later.” Kara sniffs, and Lena doesn’t mention or acknowledge the tears that have rolled down her cheeks. “The scar reminds me of who I am. I like it.”
(Lena was right about one thing: Kara is not mysterious. But her notions about scars? Lena might need to rethink her stance.)
“I like it, too,” Lena says, pressing her lips to the scar above Kara’s left eyebrow in a lengthy kiss. It must be the right response—or something close to it anyway—because Kara practically sags, resting her forehead against Lena’s.
And they fall asleep just like that, heads close and hands intertwined, but not before Lena makes the mental note to never allow the opportunity to kiss Kara’s scar to go by.  
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dailydestieldose · 4 years ago
Text
Don’t think about Dean visiting Cas’ room after Cas had died, about him cradling the jar of ashes as he looks around. Don’t think about Dean going through Cas’ stuff, his old trench coats, his old books, everything neat on the bookcase. Except for one book, which was on Cas’ bedside table. It was open and spine down, which bitterweetly reminded Dean of all the times he had to remind Cas not to do that to important lore books. It’s spine was wrecked and it’s pages and edges were so worn that Dean knew it must have been a book so treasured that Cas went back to it again and again. Intrigued, Dean sat on the edge of Cas’ bed and gingerly picked it up. It was, “We Are The Ants,” by Shaun David Hutchinson, and as Dean picked it up his eyes were immediately drawn to a quote highlighted in marker: “I saw the world from the stars' point of view, and it looked unbearably lonely.” Dean’s felt his pulse creep into his throat and immediately knew how much of an intrusion this must be to Cas, to be going through such personal things. Or how much of an intrusion it WOULD HAVE been if Cas was alive. But Cas was dead. The interpretation of this quote, of why it mattered so much to Cas, didn’t matter anymore. Dean thought for a minute, trying to quell the rising, almost rabid, need to KNOW. To get closure. He decided that it didn’t matter, he was the one mourning, not Cas. He numbly flipped back to the first page and began reading, noticing all the highlighted parts as he went, all meaningful quotes that felt like Cas himself was reading them aloud to Dean:
How ugly we must look to them, spilling light into every dark corner to push back the shadows, blinding ourselves to the true beauty of emptiness.
I hate Jesse for leaving me behind. If he asked, I would have walked into the air with him.
Jesse believed stories were the collective memories of the world, recorded in books so that each of us could know who we were before we became who we are.
We're not words, Henry, we're people. Words are how others define us, but we can define ourselves any way we choose.
Dreams are hopeful because they exist as pure possibility.
Why me?” “Because I can be myself around you, even if I don’t know who I am yet.”
I could write my name across the sky, and it would be in invisible ink.
There's an amazing world out there for you to discover, Henry Denton, but you have to be willing to discover yourself first.
That's the problem with memories: you can visit them, but you can't live in them.
Dean didn’t realize that he was crying until the first few teardrops suddenly hit the page, smudging the ink and startling him. Dean came back into his body to find himself hunched over the book, fists clenched around where he was holding it, breathing harsh and heavy. For some reason, realizing he was crying made him cry harder and now sobs ripped through him, so violently that his chest hurt and acid crept up his throat. He grappled to get ahold of himself like a car over an ice patch, and he eventually calmed just enough to keep reading:
Maybe love doesn’t require falling after all. Maybe it only requires that you choose to be in it. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen with us or how much time we had left, but I wasn’t going to waste a second of it.
This was how Diego saw me. I was Henry Denton and I was Space Boy. I was broken and I was beautiful. I was nothing and I was everything. I didn't matter to the universe, but I mattered to him.
Having choices is the problem. Everything would be easier if someone told me what to do: push the button, stop seeing Marcus, get over Jesse. The problem with choices is that I usually make the wrong ones
Memories are often amalgams of truth and fiction, sewn together in our heads by our subconscious to support our personal beliefs about the world
A star's light still shines even if there's no one to see it, but without someone to remember Jesse, his light will disappear.
Sometimes I think gravity may be death in disguise. Other times I think gravity is love, which is why love's only demand is that we fall.
The last quote had Dean biting his lip and folding in on himself, curling over the book as if it was Cas’ body, as if he could keep him safe that way. He couldn’t make himself stop crying now and realized that he never really made himself stop before. Cas didn’t have a clock in his room because he always knew the exact time, but it felt like Dean had been there for hours, just reading, clinging to what felt like the last scrap of Cas he had left. Dean neared the end of the book with growing panic because this was CAS, it looked like his most prized possession. These were his favorite quotes. This book helped make Cas CAS. Dean didn’t want to lose this last bit of him by finishing the book. His joy from earlier from finding the book was completely lost in his utter desperation to keep the feeling of being close to Cas, but still he read on, until there was nothing left. At the end of the book, Cas had written his own poem, carefully lettered on stationary paper and tucked between the last page and the author’s note. Dean was very careful to wipe his face and and hands before handling it, wary of getting any tears on it. With shaking hands he began to read it.
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“This may not last. Branches shed their leaves to prepare for sleep. Snow banks melt in the sun eventually. Blossoms make their cameo in window boxes. Even birds are only here on holiday. But this moment with you. Being loved by you. This is the season I hope never ends.”
It had a time stamp of a few years ago, before Cas found his loyalty to Jack and left. Dean tried to think about what they were doing on this date, but he specifically remembered that they didn’t have a case that entire week and they didn’t really do anything. It suddenly dawned on Dean that Cas is talking about when Dean took him along on a fishing trop. It was genuinely an amazing day. There was still snow sprinkled along the grass tips in the meadow fields, casting sunshine onto them, and they walked along the forest path to a small Brooke to cast their lines, quietly chatting as they breathed in the crisp air, warm sunlight weaving through the trees to stream over them. Dean had a sneaking suspicion that Cas parted the clouds to make it a bit warmer for Dean, despite Dean turning Cas down when he offered his trench coat to Dean. Why didn’t Dean just take the damn coat? Dean would give anything to be back with Cas at that stream, to feel that peace with Cas again. And suddenly, the jar of ashes felt clunky and misplaced in his hands. It felt poetically cruel to keep Cas in yet another cage for the rest of his...well, death. But that’s okay. He knew exactly where to put them. Cas was right, he thought, the snow banks will be melted by now, but my love is the season that never ends.
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newsies-of-corona · 4 years ago
Text
Varian & Affirmation
Analysis:
And we’ve got another one, folks! This one hit hard for me for sure. Just the way that the show set it up...it’s incredible. So without any further adieu...
“Well, shall we get started?”
Motives
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So I’m just going to come right out and say it: Varian is selfish in Season 1. The whole way through. (Now don’t leave yet! If you know me you know how much of a fan I am of this complex alchemist and this is not a hate post by all means!)
But yes. Throughout the whole of Season 1, Varian has a very self-centered mindset that’s hard to pick up on at first, but it’s there. Here’s some dialogue examples:
“I am sure that I, Varian, can unlock the mystery of your hair with the power of science!”
“Hey Flynn Rider? Wanna come with?”
“It doesn’t matter. The truth is all I really wanted to do was impress you, I thought that if I showed you what I was capable of you might see something in me.”
“Actually he’d probably be impressed. At least I hope he’d be impressed.”
Most of these quotes sound perfectly innocent, and they are! But it’s the motives behind them that make them more self-centered. Varian’s main goal, his life blood practically, is affirmation. He yearns to be adored and recognized for his achievements. It’s a perfectly normal and human want. I myself struggle with this all the time. But when it’s the only thing that you strive for? The only thing that makes you happy? It effects everything that you say and do. If you dig deep into these quotes, you can see what he’s really craving.
By discovering the mystery of Rapunzel’s hair, Varian gets credit and especially admiration. By showing his idol his inventions, he’s expecting Eugene to tell him what a genius he is or how amazed he is that this fourteen year old kid could build all this. The third one is just wanting Cassandra to recognize him since he looks up to her, and went to great lengths to impress her. Even when he helped her, it was still because he wanted to impress her and get her to help him in return. Throughout that episode he’s trying so hard to get her to compliment his work. In three of these examples, he gets the adoration he asked for. But that’s the problem: he asked for it. Eugene and Cass essentially tell him the same thing, “you’re a great, smart kid with good intentions.” And both times he responds more...despondently. For Cass it’s “thanks for saying that.” For Eugene it’s just looking at him sadly because this wasn’t what he wanted to hear. In essence: it isn’t enough.
And the last quote obviously represents the affirmation he craves the most, his father’s, and the one that he doesn’t get.
Even slight comments like “I build it myself,” “of my own design,” and “wanna see my new invention?” all have the underlying motive of craving affirmation from his peers. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but since Varian often has tunnel-vision and can’t see the consequences of his actions, it quickly becomes an issue. Especially in the case of, of course, the black rocks.
Taking it Too Far
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We find out that Varian discovered the rocks in Great Expotations. Rapunzel inadvertently tasked him with figuring out how to get rid of them, and in his mind he needed to. To impress her and possibly all of Corona. So he ran tests and got reprimanded by his dad probably more than once. But this is the biggest thing he could ever do: rescue his village and the kingdom and make his dad proud in the process. That’s why he wanted to come with him and hopefully talk to the king. Yes, in this case he actually wants to help his village, he’s not heartless and he cares a lot, but he’s predominantly focusing on the rewards that will come after he figured it out.
Of course we know his plans go awry again, but he never stops focusing on his goal of making his dad proud of him. Seriously...NEVER.
Taking it WAY Too Far
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Enter: Villain Arc. Suddenly his need to be adored and affirmed flips upside down. He doesn’t want compliments anymore, he wants people to fear him, respect him, and listen to him.
Examples:
“I have asked for help and have been ignored, I will not be ignored any longer!”
“I tried asking for help in a civil manner but was denied by everyone in Corona. So, unfortunately, this is my only remaining recourse.”
“I’ll make them hear me...”
I touched on this in my Confidence analysis, but Varian never loses his drive. And his want to be revered, consumes him. Even when he goes to prison, he joins Andrew and takes over Corona to be feared. But he soon realizes, it’s still not enough. His want for revenge doesn’t satisfy him or make him happy, it just makes him feel worse as the weight of what he’s done gradually crashes down on him.
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By the time Rapunzel comes back, it’s all an act. He’s not craving adoration anymore. He just wants a way out of this cycle of disappointment that isn’t getting him anywhere. You can tell from the lines, too.
“Me? No, not really.”
“So that no one will forget they turned their back on my father!”
“I took their queen prisoner! I threatened their princess! I helped these guys take over their kingdom!”
Now the first one is small, but it actually shows a lot of development (even if he says it in a rather dorky way) because he’s not taking credit for something or taking the “fear” that he wanted so badly. The second one just sounds like a threat but it’s not “they turned their backs on me,” like it was in season 1. It’s back to his father, and it’s, in a way, humbling Varian by taking himself out of the picture. And of course the last one is the most evident: he’s listing his faults and realizing he doesn’t deserve the adoration he used to crave so much.
Making it Right
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During Varian’s redemption...we see these thoughts really come to light.
“All I ever wanted was for my father to be proud. But if he were free from the amber now, and saw everything I’ve done, well he’d be ashamed.”
This is his turning point. This is where he owns up to how warped and twisted his mindset was and makes an effort to fix it with Rapunzel. Not for himself; not for the glory, but because it’s the right thing to do. He knows he messed up with the Quirineon, and he’s literally willing to die to make up for his mistakes. This is a direct contrast to his previous statement: “I will make you proud of me, dad. If it’s the last thing I ever do.”
Because if he dies fixing his mistakes, he doesn’t expect any kind of praise. He’d leave a legacy of horrible deeds that would never make his dad proud; but he’d be saving Corona and that’s all that matters. Of course he doesn’t actually die, thank goodness, and Rapunzel saves Corona instead, but he’s learned something from this whole experience. And one thing he especially didn’t expect was for Rapunzel to keep her promise after everything. And even when his dad finally says those words...they were supposed to mean everything, but they don’t. It still isn’t enough. Especially not after everything that’s happened. I touched on this in another analysis as well, but he feels like he doesn’t deserve those words.
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From this point, Varian has a whole new outlook on life, not dependent on gaining recognition. He’s still the cocky, confident alchemist we know and love, but he shows off his inventions because he’s proud of them, and that’s enough. He saves Corona from the red rocks because he genuinely wants to help his kingdom, he doesn’t have any underlying motives whatsoever. He helps with the Demanitus Scroll because he wants to help Rapunzel figure everything out. And at the end he helps defeat Zhan Tiri because he knows he can help, and he genuinely wants to. (And here’s where I get emotional.)
Varian doesn’t once ask for compliments or a “thank you” throughout season 3, yet that’s exactly what he gets. After all of those years of seeking and yearning for adoration, he finally gets it when he doesn’t need it anymore.
In every selfless thing he does for Corona, he gets a reward in some way. When he rescues the kingdom from black rocks, he didn’t ask for anything in return, yet his reputation was restored. When he agreed to help with the scroll, he actually got to work in Demanitus’ Lab, someone he’s admired forever. And when he helps with the portal, he gets to go see Demanitus’ tomb and I mean...
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that’s the happiest we’ve ever seen him. And it isn’t just the big things either, it’s the little ones. The way that Rapunzel calls him “a genius,” when he doesn’t ask for it or allude to it in any way. The “good job, buddy,” that Eugene tells him after he fixes up the balloon. And every time he’s complimented, he stays humble. He even responds one time with “just doing my part.”
And at the very end of his arc, after all of that selfless work he did for Corona out of the goodness of his own heart, he’s given his very own title of “Royal Engineer.” An official position in the kingdom that people truly look up to and respect.
Conclusion
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This is honestly one the most well-done character arcs I’ve ever seen, because it’s absolute poetic justice. At the beginning, Varian is so focused on his own need of affirmation that he forgets everything else, and jeopardizes himself on multiple occasions. Especially when his motives become warped. But when he finally sets his pride and his own ambitions aside and realizes he’s already enough, that’s when he gets the respect and adoration that he had always wanted. And that my friends...is CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT.
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littledrummeraussie · 4 years ago
Text
we’d fall from grace.
Ashton Irwin x assistant stylist!reader
part 2 of if these walls could talk | read part 1
story masterlist | general masterlist
word count: 3710
This was probably my most requested “we need a part 2!” story, and you know what - here we go! Hope I’m not gonna disappoint anyone! ❤️
warnings: flirting & teasing. mentiones of previous sexual encounter. sex with protection. tour bus & bunk bed sex. almost getting caught. female receiving oral. and a big load of angst to finish it up.
- - - - -
You could still feel Ashton’s touch on your arm where he grabbed you after their show was over, see the excitement in those hazel eyes as he tried to pull you with himself, ready to go back and finally come up with his post-show ritual. But time wasn’t on your side. Before he could take another step you needed to pull back, telling him that everyone was running late and he needed to be up on their bus in the next 10 minutes. Ashton rolled his eyes, grumbling something colourful under his breath as he changed directions to grab his stuff.
“Don’t forget your boxers,” you made one last fleeting comment, referring back to your little shared moment in the back room; Ashton was almost out of the door to go back to the dressing room and you needed to remind him that he left his underwear right next to his bath tub.
“But they are wet,” you could still hear the pout in his voice as he caught them when you threw them at him. Now he only flashed you a grin, clearly remembering your answer.
“So am I.”
“You could bring them for me next time,” he winked at you, flirt lacing his voice. “Just like you did with my towel.”
“In your dreams, Irwin,” you returned his teasing, only the two of you knowing the double meaning of your words.
An hour or two has gone by since then, and you were left with your thoughts and the memory of Ashton’s body pressed against your side as you’ve made him come – the sounds of his pleasure still ringing in your ears. The bus was mostly quiet as it made its way to your next stop, and you snuggled up in your bunk with your sketchbook, wanting to work on some ideas you’ve been playing around with, but mostly just wanting to forget about Ashton. You could feel your cheeks heat up as you recalled his words, the touch of his skin, how his hair felt between your fingers, how his lips were soft but his kisses hard. In the end you needed to realize that none of your actual ideas made it on paper, but instead you came up with a whole line of outfits for the man himself, and you sighed, tucking the book back under your pillow.
One can’t just forget about Ashton Irwin.
*
Your phone buzzed next to your elbow and you slowly picked it up, not knowing who would bother with sending you a text at this time. But the name that flashed across the screen made you bite your lip, and you knew you couldn’t resist answering him. The little annoyed face emoji you’ve put next to Ashton’s name made you giggle, the feeling quickly turning into something else after your adventure with him.
Ashton: Hey, are you still up?
Y/N: …maybe.
Ashton: …did I wake you?
Y/N: Can’t really sleep until we don’t stop for something.
Y/N: Not a big fan of sleeping on buses.
Ashton: You get used to it after some time.
Y/N: I prefer my own bed, but thank you for your input.
Ashton: What about my bed? 😉
You needed to put the phone face down next to you, cheeks turning hot at the offer. He was on the other bus with the guys, maybe chilling with them in the front or doing something stupid that band members usually do at this time, yet even like this he was able to turn you into a hot mess. The thought of crawling into his bed and touching him again made you bury your face in your pillow. There was nothing innocent about his offer – and there was nothing innocent about your thoughts either. Not since you’ve walked in on him naked and gave him a handjob. Not since he’d told you that he got off on fantasies of you every night.
Another quick buzzing sound broke the silence of your bunk, then another. Maybe you’ve been quiet for too long and Ashton thought he went too far.
Ashton: I can’t sleep either.
Ashton: Can’t stop thinking about you or what we did.
Ashton: Wish we had time to do more.
Y/N: You still have your dreams, Irwin. Solve that problem. 🙃
Ashton: I’ve thought you were the problem solver. 😘
Y/N: I can’t really do anything about it from here. You’re kinda on the other bus.
Y/N: …and I’m still wearing clothes.
Ashton: Not in my head. 😉
A picture popped up under the texts, Ashton snuggled up in his bunk with tousled hair and pursed lips, a smile clearly playing at the corner of his mouth, earbuds tucked in his ears.
Ashton: I could call you and talk your ears off until you fall asleep?
Y/N: But where’s the fun in that? 😊
Y/N: Tell me about the song you’re listening to.
Y/N: Wanna know what’s playing while you fantasize about me.
Y/N: …hope it’s not Calum singing…
Ashton: Don’t ruin the mood!
Ashton: Fuck. Wish you were here so I could shut your smart mouth with my own.
Y/N: That’s a very poetic way of telling me you want to kiss me again…
Ashton: Not just kiss you.
Ashton: Want you in every way. Every kiss, every sound, every touch. Everything.
Ashton: You’re all I can think about.
Y/N: This might end up being the longest night of all…
Y/N: You’re close… but still not close enough…
That was the point when Ashton started sending you songs sharing whatever he was listening to, and if you closed your eyes it almost felt like you could curl up against him, sharing his earbuds as you both got lost in the music, ready to fall asleep. It was so easy to pretend, so easy to imagine him there with you. If only the two of you were on the same bus.
*
There was a light knock on the side of your bunk, and you pulled back the curtains, coming face to face with Kat. You could hear commotion from the front, people talking over each other as they got off the bus and you realized that you’ve stopped moving.
“Guys called over from the other bus that they are stopping at a 24/7, and we did too. Just wanted to ask if you need something? Maybe some of those snacks you like so much?”
“That would be great, thanks Kat.”
“Try and get some rest, okay? I know you can’t fall asleep on a moving bus,” she nodded, fingers tugging on the curtain. “This is your chance to catch some Z’s. I think we’ll be here for 30 minutes or so, should give you plenty of time.”
“Alright mama, I get it,” you laughed, burrowing against your pillow. “Night, Kat!”
“Night, Y/N! See you in the morning.”
You were ready to turn back around and finally get the sleep you’ve been craving since settling in your bunk, but then you felt it again. Your phone started buzzing next to you, and it took you a second to realize that these were not text messages, but an actual call. Ashton’s name was flashing across the screen, and you quickly picked it up, not wanting to miss your chance at hearing his voice.
“Where are you?” his voice was a whisper, his tone almost impatient. “Everyone went to the store and I didn’t see you leave the bus!”
“I’m still up? Trying to get some sleep,” you furrowed your eyebrows, clearly not following what he wanted.
“Fucking hell, Y/N,” he groaned, a small laugh following. “Get your cute ass over here before anyone comes back! Hurry!”
With that the call got disconnected, and in a second you scrambled out of your bed, pulling the curtains back so it looked like you were sleeping. When you were sure no one was around you quickly jumped off the bus, eyes searching for the other one. Then it caught your attention, a person waving at you frantically, and you sprinted over to the bus parked just a little bit away from yours. Ashton curled his arms around your waist, dragging you up the stairs and into the small living area, his lips already on yours as he pushed you against a wall.
“Damn, you look sexy in our crew hoodie,” he grinned when he finally pulled back, fingers curling into the hem of the fabric.
“It’s really comfy to sleep in,” you stroked the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him back for another kiss.
“Yeah, I know. I’ve been doing it too,” Ashton sucked on your bottom lip, knocking his forehead against yours. “But now I just really want to take it off you.”
He grabbed your hand, quickly leading you to the back of the bus and before you knew it Ashton already pushed you down on the couch, legs on both sides of your waist as he wrestled off his hoodie and shirt, tossing them on the floor. With elbows resting next to your head he leaned forward, lips crashing together again, his fingers diving into your hair to angle your head towards the kiss. You squeezed his shoulders and biceps, wanting to pull him even closer and melt against his body, get rid of your clothes and just feel him. The memory wasn’t enough anymore – not when he was right above you, sweatpants riding so low on his hips that you could have easily slipped them off of him.
Ashton’s fingers curled into your hoodie again, working it upwards until he needed to pull away to get it off you. He groaned loudly when he saw you wearing only a top, your hard nipples straining against the thin fabric. He nuzzled his face against your skin, nose lightly skimming the open neckline of the top before he closed his lips around one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth through your shirt. A moan finally broke out of you, gripping his curls between your fingers as he teased you with his tongue and teeth, his other hand slipping under your shirt to tweak your other nipple.
“That’s exactly how I’ve imagined you,” he pressed open mouthed kisses against your throat, sucking a quick mark into your skin where the hoodie would cover it. “So responsive and sounding like a fucking dream.”
“What’s your favourite fantasy?” your nails scratched the top of his shoulders, leaving faint red marks on his skin. “Other than getting me naked?”
An almost wolfish grin pulled at his lips as he pulled off your shoes and dropped them next to the couch, your legging quickly following. His palms cupped your ass cheeks and squeezed them before pushing his shoulders under your knees, and your legs spread involuntarily as he kissed the soft skin of your thighs, dangerously close to your pussy.
“Eating you out,” his eyes bore into yours as he pressed his lips against the wet spot on your panties, quickly licking over it. “Fuck, you taste amazing!”
“Ash, fuck–” your hips lifted to get closer to his mouth, and he chuckled, tugging your soaked panties to the side.
“Soon, baby,” and with that he wrapped his lips around your clit, lapping at it quickly.
You needed to put both hands on your mouth to keep your sounds at bay, not wanting anyone finding out about the two of you – what Ashton was doing between your legs was only for you to know. He groaned against your skin, tongue licking between your folds as his eyes searched you, and you were ready to combust just from this. Fingertips teased against your hole as Ashton kissed your stomach, sucking on the skin to give you another hickey, his knuckles slowly slipping inside. He rutted his hips against the couch as he licked at your pussy lips, fingers already searching for that one spot that would make you go crazy.
Laughter and shouts flew across the parking lot and you whined, trying to push Ashton away from you, making him groan. He swiped his fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his forehead as he kneeled up, listening to the sounds getting closer.
“I can’t be seen here,” you reached for your clothes, ready to tug them back up and somehow make it off the bus in record time.
“I’m not letting you go,” he caught you around the waist, motioning you towards his bunk. “Quick!”
His arms were already full with all your discarded clothes, throwing them at the end of his bed as he scrambled after you, pulling the curtains closed behind himself. He was pressed against your back as both of you listened to the sounds, your heart pounding in your chest from possibly getting caught. A minute passed, maybe two, but when no one came up on the bus Ashton let out a sigh, stifling it against your neck, the sensation making you shiver from head to toe.
“I can’t wait anymore,” his lips skimmed against the back of your neck, whispering his words on your skin. “Gonna lose my sanity if I can’t have you.”
“We need to be quick,” biting your lips you moved your hand back, reaching for his hard dick that’s been pressing against your ass for minutes now, squeezing it through his sweats.
“Then we better get to it,” he reached under his pillow for a condom, pushing his pants down to free himself.
He pulled your hips back to his, tugging on your panties until you kicked them off, then let your body melt against his, burrowing close to each other in the small space of his bunk. Ashton pushed his cock between your thighs, stroking it between your folds until he got coated in your wetness, then wrapped his arms around you, keeping you still as he started pushing inside. His face was in your hair, his small sounds making you dizzy as you took him inch by inch, the stretch already building the pleasure in the pit of your stomach.
“God, you really are soaking wet,” he nipped the shell of your ear, pulling out just to push back in deeper. “Taking me so fuckin’ good.”
“Don’t hold back,” you breathed, reaching for his hand to squeeze his fingers. “I can take it. I want it. I want you.”
“Definitely better than my fantasies,” he pressed a kiss against your jaw, pulling you back on his cock as he moved his hips, quickly fucking into you.
The air was hot around you, your skin already slightly sweaty and sticking against Ashton’s as he held you close, hands finding their place on your chest and squeezing your breasts as he pounded into you. He shifted on the bed and pulled you with himself, changing the angle of his thrust and drawing out another set of needy sounds from you.
“Yeah, that’s it baby, you sound so hot,” he pulled your face to his, lips gliding messily against the other’s, his thrusts getting quicker. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come again?”
“Gotta solve this problem too, yeah,” you let out a giggle, kissing his chin as you moaned against his skin. “Fuck me, Ash, harder!”
Ashton growled, ready to pound you into oblivion when someone started climbing up the stairs at the front, and he stilled, palm pressing against your mouth to keep you quiet. His breathing was heavy in your ear, trying to be silent and keep his composure, hoping that whoever came back won’t bother him now.
“Ash, mate,” Calum’s voice was drawing closer, and you were sure this was the end of it all. “You’re up? Forgot my wallet.”
You could almost feel Ashton rolling his eyes, his face buried in your neck as he waited for Calum to go back to the store.
“I know you’re not sleeping. Do you need me to pick up anything for you?” Calum was still chatting away, and you felt that Ash had enough as he pulled one arm back from around you, just to stick his hand out between the flaps of the curtain, and probably throwing his middle finger up at Calum. “Alright, alright I hear ya, you grumpy fucker!”
He kicked the side of the bunk as he left, and in a few seconds he was gone, making Ashton groan loudly.
“I’m not gonna let him kill the mood,” he grabbed your face to pull you in for another kiss, his hips quickly working back to their previous pace. “Gonna make you cum so hard you’ll see stars.”
“You better do that cause I’m already so close,” you sucked on his bottom lip, pulling his hand between your legs. “Yeah, just like that.”
Ashton circled his thumb around your clit, rubbing it quick and hard as his hips snapped against you, the tip of his cock dragging against your g-spot, and you felt your thighs shake, your pussy clenching around him as you finally reached your peak. He kissed your moans away, pumping into you quickly as he chased his own orgasm, and soon you felt his body tense, pulling you close as he came with a groan, his cock twitching inside you as he filled the condom with his cum.
“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he smeared kisses on your lips and cheeks, hair all over the place and tickling your face as he burrowed close to you. “So fucking incredible.”
“I don’t think I can move,” you let out a giggle, pressing sweet kisses against his lips. “Guess I did see the stars.”
“Come ‘ere,” he shifted to give you more space, pulling you close and tucking your head under his chin. “Just wanna hold you close.”
“I can’t stay, you know,” your fingers lightly ran up and down on his side, kissing his collarbone. “But I really can’t feel my legs.”
“It was that good, huh?” he grinned, squeezing your hips as he reached for the blanket.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” you closed your eyes, pressing even closer to him. “Wake me in 5 minutes, okay?”
“I will, I promise.”
*
Something wasn’t right – you felt like you’ve forgotten something, and you knew it’s gonna get you into trouble. But you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was that. And you had a slight feeling that you shouldn’t care. Not when you were tucked against Ashton’s chest, his body warm against yours, hot breath tickling your skin as his lips pressed against your temple, his eyes beautiful in the morning light filtering through the curtains.
Morning. Ashton. Ashton, who was still very much naked. You were in his bunk. In his bunk only wearing a top. You had sex last night. In his bunk. On their bus. You were still on their bus and you slept through the night. You didn’t go back to your bed. Or your own bus. You had sex with Ashton and you were still here, even though…
“You didn’t wake me up!” you hissed, already pulling away from Ashton. “Fuck, you’ve told me you’re gonna wake me up!”
“You fell asleep and I didn’t have the heart,” he propped himself up on his elbow, reaching for your hand. “Hey, it’s fine!”
“It’s not fine,” you were frantically moving around in the small space, looking through the bedding to find your own clothes. “I should have been back in my bunk by the time they got back! Kat will be looking for me, and…”
“She knows you’re here,” Ashton added and you felt your ears start ringing, your head going dizzy. “I’ve sent her a text that you’re with me and that you fell asleep.”
“Fuck, Ashton, I only asked one thing from you!” you tugged on your hoodie, still looking around. “Shoes. Where are my shoes?”
“Are you looking for these…?”
The curtain was drawn back and you saw Calum holding up your sneakers, a sympathetic look on his face. You felt heat crawl up your neck as you took them away from him, pulling those on as well.
“Y/N, wait,” Ashton was reaching for his own clothes as you slipped out of his bunk. “Fuck, no, wait!”
You didn’t spare him another second, already feeling shame take over you as you passed Calum then Michael and Luke in the front of the bus. They acted like they didn’t see you, like they didn’t know why you were sleeping in Ashton’s bunk, but you knew it was clear as day. The bus was already parked at the venue, you’ve probably arrived just a few minutes ago, and as you stepped off the bus you could already see the rest of the crew packing. You pulled on the neck of your hoodie, hoping it hid the hickeys Ashton has left on your skin.
“Y/N–” Ashton suddenly jumped down from the bus, only wearing his sweatpants, another hoodie in his hand. “Y/N, wait–”
It felt like cold water was dumped on you as you realized that the one you were wearing was Ashton’s hoodie, the sweater so big on you that it definitely showed all the marks on your neck and the one in his hands… well, yours.
“Thanks for nothing,” you whispered, quickly tugging the fabric out of his hand.
“No, Y/N, I– I didn’t mean it,” Ashton fumbled around with his words, and you rolled your eyes, hoping the tears won’t come.
“Of course you didn’t. Just as you didn’t want to see me taking my walk of shame back to my own bus,” you crossed your arms over your chest, starting to finally go back.
“Hey, come here,” you felt someone step next to you and wrap their arm around your waist, and you felt a sob escape you as you realized it was Kat. “Don’t you have better things to do?! Everyone go back to work!”
You felt people staring at you for another moment before they scrambled back to their work. There was a loud thump coming from behind you and you were sure Ashton was kicking something, probably the tire of the bus, cursing loudly. Before you made it up to your bus with Kat you’ve heard one last comment – this time from Calum, addressed to Ashton.
“You know… fucking her and screwing with her are two very, very different things.”
- - - - -
taglist.
@mymindwide @loveroflrh @sadistmichael @notinthesameguey @babylonashton @talkfastromance4 @dead-and-golden @fuckyeah5sostakemehome @karajaynetoday  @myfavfanficsever @myloverboyash @suchalonelysunflower @sexgodashton @rebelwith0utacause @creampiecashton @irwinkitten @allthestarsandthemoon @castaway-cashton @spicycal @wontlastimokwiththat @luckyduckydoo @sunshineeashton @2fangirl4u @talkfastdrummer @pastelbabygirl19 @istantommoandtpwk @perfectlieirwin @thesweetness-irwin-archive @c-a-l-m-hood @youngblood199456 @tiannaxox2 @caffeinecalum @fanficsandotherthings @melanindarling @bubblegum18
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iamnightduchess · 4 years ago
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Reiner & Mikasa: A Retrospective Pt. 1
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Why their combined synergy is poetic in potentially saving Eren by the end of SnK?
(Disclaimer: This is purely an appreciation post for my two favorite characters, [BR]OTP-influenced but in no way disregarding any other characters’ importance in the series) **contains spoilers for recent manga chapters & Ep. 63 of AoT’s Final Season. Image heavy.
Ever since they were trainees, Eren has always looked up towards both Reiner and Mikasa, although he wasn’t willing to admit to the latter in front of her face directly. But, in a feeling of helplessness, he confided in Reiner. He aspired to be just like the two strongest people in his life at that point: Reiner and Mikasa.
They are the top two cadets of the 104th batch and are almost always evenly matched in the multiple times they’ve tried to take each other down if it wasn’t for Reiner’s stroke of luck and Mikasa’s hesitance. (Mikasa managed to force him out of his Titan form using her last Thunder Spear but wasn’t enough to kill him even when she said she wanted to)
(Oh yes, she & Levi gave him enough trauma for his PTSD and he has recurring nightmares of her. But he still respects them. Enemy to enemy. Enemy to ally.)
Yet together, there’s still a fighting chance for them to stop Eren because of their deep bond with him. (Armin is important too that ARM still has a huge role to play in the second wave of the final fight. Especially now that he’s realized OG Ymir’s role in all of this. I hope)
At this current timeline of the manga, we have reached the point where Reiner and Mikasa, the very two people that Eren looked up to, have to be the ones (amongst the few) who collectively work together to defeat him, who’s under the Founder Ymir’s influence & in a way, saving him from whatever hopeless vortex he is in.
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I very much like to draw light to this short, quick exchange between Reiner & Mikasa on the plane heading towards Fort Salta’s direction. The above panel, which highlighted Reiner’s perspective and his empathy, says “The weight of that unimaginable power & burden would not be easy to endure and that IF he was the one who has the Founder, he’d want it to be handled by someone else and if he couldn’t handle that immense power, he’d want the power to be stopped.” Some fans claimed that Reiner was ‘projecting’ his own innate desire to die on Eren but Reiner has always been the opposite to Eren’s character. The other side of the same coin as Eren’s.
The below panel follows and it’s very interesting to note that if we look at Reiner’s gaze as he was speaking, indirectly Reiner is admitting that he’d want to be stopped by someone he knows could do exactly that and that person or his kryptonite is Mikasa. Ok, woman, this man’s weakness is you. It couldn’t get any direct than that rofl
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Reiner was being very mindful (and respectful) of his implication as he is very aware on how delicate is Mikasa’s feelings when it comes to Eren. (Tbh, I also observe the unspoken understanding & mutual respect between these two) Eren’s her family & to directly call out to Mikasa to be more proactive in her actions would be inconsiderate of him despite the situation they’re in. Just like at the harbor, before the showdown with the Jeagerists, Reiner gave them the option to stay aside & not interfere, knowing full well he & the rest of the Marleyan survivors would be no different than headless chickens without the SC’s support. He didn’t force them, just like he didn’t impose his thoughts on Mikasa.
Then BOOM -- PATHS INTERMISSION. Brought to you by OG!Ymir through Young!Eren. Coincidentally, as if ‘someone’ out there wants to place weight on Reiner’s suggestion.
However, after the Paths intermission, that might just be the first wake up call to Mikasa. It’s also interesting that once again we are reminded that no matter how fast or how hard Mikasa tried to chase after Eren, she’ll never be able to get close to him. She gave him her world yet he kept moving forward & leave her behind, chasing after his shadows as he keeps going down a path that no one else can follow. I think it’s interesting that The Paths looped her back to Reiner
The horrified expression on Reiner’s face in the panel below somewhat tells me that he knew his earlier implications are not just him grasping desperately at straws but it feels like there’s the ‘human’ side of Eren, still untainted by Ymir’s will, like he believes, who secretly wants to be stopped. He understood how horrible it is for Mikasa, especially with the look of absolute shock on her face to finally have the awful truth confirmed. (At this point, Armin is already past the point of holding back & will do whatever necessary to rip Eren out of the Founding’s form)
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I would like to take the time to share my appreciation of these rich panels of Mikasa working closely with Reiner’s Armored (together with the rest of course). Mikasa doesn’t tell her feelings verbally but she always shows it on her face.
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Oh yes, right after the above panel, she had to get out of the way but her face below explains the anger and the rage she felt when she saw the Colossal took a bite out of the Armored’s nape & toss its body away like it’s just point blank garbage.
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She was desperately worried that Armin was taken, but at Levi’s behest, she trusted Armin with his orders and they forced themselves to move forward. But one can see she was about to go apeshit when she saw what happened to Reiner & his Armored.
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While Reiner & Jean were having a Titanic bro moment here, which is also pivotal in my opinion as Reiner, once again felt he finally belonged amongst people who genuinely care about him Survey Corps Suicide Squad yo even after what had happened between them. (It was a symbolical scene as well where Reiner has to let go of his old bro, Bertolt to move forward with his new bro, Jean.) Mikasa swooped in & kill the random Titan form that was about to make Reiner its lunch. Can’t blame them, that man is a delicious footlong sub. This woman ain’t gonna share haha crack humor, people! 
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“If we fight, we win. If we lose, we die.”
Yes, the breaking point of one Mikasa Ackerman. This is a wholesome callback to Trost arc, the day before their graduation. When she found out that Eren died, she went apeshit & went on a “fuck this shit. i have nothing to lose anymore” mode. Jean, as usual, being the tough guy Jean, is angry that she’s putting her life on the line. Again.
But what’s interesting to me was the helpless look on Reiner’s face. He knows she’s super strong, he respects her so much for that & she’s buying them time and was more than willing to die first before everyone does BUT he can’t do much at that point because he’s at his last limit and Jean’s not letting his hand go either. Seriously, THIS is the woman you should marry, bro. She’s willing to die for you & everyone else. This woman is a damn keeper!
Although I am very sure, everyone’s ready to die for each other at this point.
Back to the original pondering: The Reiner & Mikasa saving Eren with/through Armin going directly against Ymir.
The Final Exhibition played a lot on this Eren vs Reiner with Mikasa being in the middle. Touched on this briefly before.
The Final Stand highlights the confrontation between The Founding/Attack against The Armored, with Mikasa being in the middle of the confrontation, tipping the scales of the outcome. Before, she assisted Eren against Reiner.
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We are seeing her working together with Reiner to take Eren down right now. The definitive final question that would be answered soon was printed on the wall featuring Eren & Reiner’s exhibition panel:  “Who’s the one that will disappear from this world?”
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I just hope that the right one(s) persevere. Reiner & Mikasa are going to Bonnie & Clyde/ Cloak & Dagger / Cyclops & Phoenix that shit out
Read on their characters compatibility in Part 2
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pasiveagressive · 4 years ago
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Buzzfeed Interviews // S.M.
Warnings: Some Sexual references and a little bit of language Idk how much I like this but...
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“Hey guys it’s Y/N Y/L/N and sitting next to me is Shawn Mendes,”
“And today we are going to be reading thirst tweets.”
“Okay first one,” you reach into the jug and grab a slip of paper. Taking a minute to read it you laugh “Alrighty, this one is about you bub. ‘Do you think that if I ask him Shawn Mendes would choke me?’” Shawn looks at you like you are crazy for laughing at it,
“Why are you asking anyone to choke you?” he shakes his head and reaches into the jug to grab a piece of paper, “Hey @shawnmendes can I use-” he stops and is about to throw the paper to the side when you snatch it out of his hand, read it, then laugh again.
“Hey @shawnmendes can I use your face as a trampoline? No you cannot, he has a girlfriend.” you smile and wink to the camera. He reads the next  already having pulled it out while you were goofing off,
“Y/N is literally the most gorgeous human on this planet, like goddess level beauty inside and out.” He reads 
“Oh my gosh that was so wholesome! Thank you!” you gush to the camera looking at the piece of paper Shawn is holding. You reach and grab another paper, “My body is a temple and I want Shawn Mendes to bust the walls down.” the two of you sit and think it over for a second, “That was poetic.” You say
“Yeah you should write a song.” he agrees “Has anyone else seen Y/N Y/L/N’s look from the Grammys? Cause DAMN she could kill me and I would say thank you.” Shawn looks at you confused
 “Why?”
“I have no idea bub,” You then face that camera “Um thank you? I am not going to kill you though, so sorry?” the crew behind the camera laughs “ Anywho, @Y/N.Y/L/N’s p**** probably tastes like candy, care to confirm @shawnmendes?” your eyes go wide and then you start laughing. Shawn just pulls out the next piece of paper he reads it, then throws it to the side 
“Nope.” 
“Babe you are no fun at least let me see it.” You whine as he starts reading the next one“Y/N Y/L/N and Shawn Mendes… Threesome?” 
“Um no? Simple answer.” you shake your head and laugh, “Okay this one is so bad but I am going to read it anyway,” Shawn tries to reach for it but you get as far away from him as possible, “Shawn Mendes, I want to eat your a** like a five course meal. I would let you slam your big c*** into all of my holes and thank you, please sir please.” you laugh so hard that you fall out of your seat. 
“There is a line and that just went about 300 feet past it.” Shawn says with red cheeks from embarrassment. 
“The way that Y/N calls Shawn bub makes me so horny.” he reads after you calm down a little bit.“Ugh, now I am not going to be able to call you that without thinking about how it turns people on.” you complain
“That's my favorite nickname though.” He complains at the same time
“Here we are last one… @Y/N.Y/L/N marry me? Sorry but I am already in a committed relationship, that I just don’t see myself leaving anytime soon.” you smile at Shawn who leans down and kisses your temple.
“That was us reading thirst tweets, we hoped you liked it I guess?” Shawn says
“If you want to see other people doing this the link will be in the description below, and my parting words of wisdom are these. What you post on the internet stays there forever, so don’t post thirst tweets.” You sign off and wave to the camera
“Hi my name is Shawn Mendes and this is my girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N and we are going to be doing Buzzfeed’s relationship test.” 
“I think that we are going to get 100%.” You smile
 “I think that she is going to get 100% and I am going to leave myself room for error and say 90%.”
“Okay what’s my birthday? Yours is August 8th 1998.” 
“Oh easy, August 6th 2001.”“Correct you are almost 3 years older than me. Okay what is their Zodiac Sign?”
“Well I am a Leo so that means that you are a Leo.”
 “Yep! And he just answered my question for me.” You smile and tease him. 
 “Phone number? Yours is *********.” He says without thinking, your eyes go wide. You are fully aware that Buzzfeed will bleep it out but if this had been live he would totally be in the doghouse.
“Shawn!” you exclaim
“What?” He realises what he did,  “Oh oops.” you laugh and shake your head. Leaning over you whisper his in his ear, “Yep that's right.” 
“Their eye color, Brown.” you say without even thinking, if someone got that wrong they would need to have a serious conversation with their partner.
“And yours is y/e/c.” 
“Perfect babe,” you smile and kiss his cheek
“How could I not know that I love your eyes.” He smiles at you 
“That was so cheesy.” You laugh “What is their coffee order? He doesn’t really like coffee but if he did drink a coffee it would be caramel iced coffee. Right?” You look at him for confirmation.
“Yeah, and you are a coffee addict, so lately your order has been an Iced caramel macchiato with almond milk and an extra shot.” You smile at him amazed with his ability to remember the small things including your ever changing coffee order.
“Bub that was so good!” you kiss his cheek again. He blushes a little
“Okay, okay. Pizza preference.” he reads “So Y/N doesn’t love pizza as much as most people, she would rather have wings, or like some form of Mexican cuisine. Plus we really try to eat healthy so we don’t eat pizza that much ever. But if we are getting pizza she loves extra cheese.”
“All true facts.” you smile and nod to the camera “Shawn’s pizza preference… hmm pepperoni right?” he nods his head at you “Great! Next question. Shawn’s favorite meal. Shawn loves omelets, is that a meal?” He smiles
“Yeah I say that counts. Oh what's yours?” he pauses thinking for a minute. “Fajitas?” 
“I do love a good fajita but I wouldn’t say that they are my favorite.” 
“Oh no! See I told you I was going to mess up. What is it?” 
“(Your favorite meal.)” you answer
 “Ah I did know that.”  you guys continue answering about favorite desserts, movies, and books. “Okay, next one who is their celebrity crush?” you read “Oh that's a hard one, um do I count? If not then….”
“Come on babe, you know this.” he tells you and you think about it for another minute
“Oh, oh it's Emma Watson duh.” you exclaim “Okay who's mine?” 
“Tom Holland.” He looks at the camera with a blank face.
“Hey I have a type okay.” you laugh “Their favorite swear word. This is going to be hard for you because I swear like a sailor.”
 “That is true but I believe that if you could only say one for the rest of your life it would be F*ck.” you think about it for a second
“Okay yeah true, f*ck can be used in so many different contexts. Yours is, oh no I have no idea. You like rarely swear. Um, damn?” Shawn shrugs
“I mean sure? I don’t know that I have a favorite because like you said I try very hard not to swear. Okay their favorite band/artist.” He looks at you with a don’t you dare say anything wrong type of look.
“So yours is John Mayer. I mean everyone and their mother knows that Shawn Mendes loves John Mayer. You also have a love for Ed, and some J.T. though.” you declare
“Alright,  mine was easy. Yours is me, I mean right.” he looks at you with that look again.
“Yes babe of course but if I couldn’t pick you who would it be?”
“You love Dua Lipa.” Your smile grows bigger
“Yes I do, Dua please marry me, or just be my friend or anything really.” you plead. The two of you continue on with T.V. show, worst job, biggest petpeeve, and favorite sex position. When you got to this one Shawn’s face had never been redder as than it was when you answered that question. The last question “Kink?” you read “ I immediately know what it is.” you look at him “Can I tell them? I am going to anyway, Shawn has the biggest daddy kink.” you lied before, this was the reddest you have ever seen his face
“Well so do you, babe.” He says after he gains his composure. 
“Okay results. I got a 19/20.” he informs you and you smile at him, your competitiveness shining through. “Go ahead, tell everyone how you beat me.”
“20/20 baby!” you do a little victory dance in your chair
“So that was us taking the relationship test, which we both aced. We just read some of your thirst tweets so check out the video, also check out Shawn’s album Shawn Mendes, and my new movie New Mutants in theaters August 28th.” 
After you close the computer’s Shawn leans in and kisses you. 
“(your favorite meal) for dinner?” 
“You know me so well.” you both laugh  
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