#OH YEAH I NEED TO RETAG ALL THAT
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
ik the point of that anon ask like a day? two days ago (idk what day it is o 7 o) was not to respond but whoever sent that 'letter' ish you stole my heart and i'd buy you a bouquet if i could with your favorite flowers
#i love letters !!!#i love sending my friends letters ;; v ;;#i wonder if i should do some for christmas#if this exam doesnt get pushed back like i hope#im actually getting a two week holiday by accident LOL#so itd be cool to actually use the time to do some things for friends ;; v ;;#anyways i think about that message a lot it was honestly really sweet and aldksjfah i didnt think i was capable of making others feel that#*way laksjdfhlkjh#snow speaks#i cant words properly with like how much it means to me its more im just happy if im able to make you feel a little more like yourself!!#or that youre able to feel a little lighter#youre probably a close friend tbh and i wont say who bc i dont want to be wrong and make myself look like a fool#but ;; v ;; if you feel lighter or more like yourself then thats what you deserve!#anyways i tried to not respond to the message but i just love it a lot slkdjfahlh#OH YEAH I NEED TO RETAG ALL THAT#for when im down ! and then i can go read those and go ; v ;
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
would anyone read what would probably be a collection of one-shots or only vaguely sequential chapters that was like a slice-of-life/comedy series following the haikyuu third years working part time jobs unrelated to volleyball and developing weird, normal, adult friendships with each other because of it and then going back to school on Monday like "oh fuck right we need to beat them to go to nationals. thats gonna make seeing him at work weird. I hope he still covers my saturday shift if I win."
but the joke of the content would be that it's primarily focused on the work experience
so like Hinata and Kageyama come into a local grocery store and spot Aone and Asahi down one of the isles and spend a whole 30 minutes like "oh my god things must be so tense i hope they can stay civil" but theyre actually just retagging the canned goods for a sale and are just very efficient and silent.
and they go to say hi to Daichi at the customer service desk and he's stressed beyond belief, like, more stressed than they've ever seen him, and they're like "oh my god are you worried about going to nationals next month? yeah Im freaking out too!!"
and he's just like "what? no our new hire just quit so Im trying to rearrange the schedule and I think I need to ask Iwaizumi to cover closing for another few weeks and he's gonna be so mad. He hates working with Semi but I dont have any other options. Unless I wanna move- no there's no point in scheduling someone who doesnt know how to do it-" and hinata and kageyama just back away as he mutters to himself
Kageyama needs money for something and gets his first job with them and on like the first day he ends up working with Oikawa in the garden section of the store and expects it to be a chance for conflict and is all like "im not gonna let him bully me!!! we are equals here as coworkers!!!!" but instead Oikawa just sort of wanders around looking tired as fuck and very robotically doing his work and Kageyama eventually asks him if he's okay and Oikawa is like "dude ive been here since 4 am I dont even know who I am let alone if Im okay."
just classic grocery store employee hijinks
101 notes
·
View notes
Note
could you please tag your original post where you start bitlife with “long post” because i am on mobile and that is long 😭 (if you tag the original it you won’t need to retag every reblog, they’ll all be filtered)
oh damn yeah sure
I thought it automatically did that collapsible thing, sorry 😭
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ooooeeee, that sounds like such a cool mug.
Also, I personally wouldn’t need a tagging system because I tend to be very active and scroll back, but I think it would be very useful if you were behind. For example: there’s a lot of asks about honey and tangerines. I haven’t read it yet, but when I do I’d like to look at other people’s thoughts. Since there is no tagging system, I’ll have to wait until I’ve read the entire thing to look at the asks. So for future fics, it would be nice if ask were sorted per chapter so you can catch up as you go (even if you are only one chapter behind). Rip all the past fics though because that’s way too many asks to go back through.
-🌲
oh yeah I'm not gonna go back and retag any old analysis asks there are way too many so those are shit out of luck. but anything from here on out I'll probably tag with chapter titles so people can look those up to reference. I'll still tag them with the title of the fic as well just so people can block the tags if they don't want spoilers or if they just don't wanna see the analysis asks in general. still trying to figure out what tag I'll use for questions/analysis not relating to a specific chapter and just the fic overall but I'll figure something out
7 notes
·
View notes
Photo
a bunch of assets i’ve made for my neocities site, moonflute!
this is really making me get faster at drawing lol! and pixel art is so much fun.. the third, fourth, and fifth images are inspired by AI generated pics i made via crAIyon c:
if you don’t want to spend a ton of time on my site (which btw should work decently well on mobile as well as desktop, but mobile may have some bugs i haven’t gotten around to fixing, like the comic sans being invisible on my phone for some reason, but i only use it in like 3 places) i’d love if y’all checked out the main page, scroll down to the fridge ad and try it c: and/or go to the art hub page and hover over the conch shell pic AND/OR sign the guest book :3c thankyew!
#9#mine#i need a new art tag#cyrsed art#there#now i need to go back through all my art and retag (bc it doesn't have a unique tag that's dif from my general 'mine' tag)#oh well#but yeah check out my site/follwo me on neocities if you want!#it's a work in progress... i redid the layout completely recently and i still haven't finished the OC pages so it's missing a lot#and i wanna make a page for my cats and a page for just like#a ton of other stuff lol#but it's all just yknow#taking time#i'm super proud of how that conch shell came out#i tried to draw a conch shell a few years ago and i couldn't do it ghlksdjf#it just looked so bad#so that's proof i've improved#i can draw a shell now#gore#body horror#blood#animal death --#sometimes i wonder if there's something wrong iwth me#why do all my drawings turn into decapitated heads and blood and organs and whatever#i'm simply so twisted and random
74 notes
·
View notes
Text
i can't stop thinking about how kitamoto and nishimura taught natsume how to ride a bike just so he could hang out with them too im gonna scream
#they tried to include him and he was like ''oh yeah no i cant for this specific reason'' and they were like ''alright then let's Fix That''#kitamoto and nishimura said ''You Are Going To Hang Out With Us No Matter What We Are Going To Make This Happen''#they are so pure and good i cant believe how good they are#exactly the kind of friends natsume needs ;-------;#retag later#ny blogging#also when they saw that he was visibly stressed out all day and literally showed up to his house to offer to help alleviate his burden#and when they spent literally an entire afternoon helping him search for a photo hed lost somewhere in the forest bc it was important to him#even tho theyd had other plans#theyre so good and kind they care about natsume so much i literally love them so much#i wanna know how they all met & became friends ;m;;;
1 note
·
View note
Note
okay but 10/10 would pull hot lawyer in by his tie and make tf out with him
Get You Off
(Original photo source @the-adam-driver-files but made b&w by me)
Lawyer!Kylo Ren x Reader
Word Count: 1,252
Warnings: NSFW, simple PIV smutty smut, I guess semi-public (there are people in the next room)
The real question is, are you doing this before or after the trial? You giving into temptation when you spend time in his office, brushing hands over legal documents as he goes over the details of the defense? He’s telling you some important info about the one thing you have to make sure to say on the stand, but you’re too busy appraising the way his body looks in that gorgeous, tailored, fitted suit to pay attention?
Kylo urges you to stay focused, you’re not going to win otherwise. But right now you want to win something else. His eyes widen as you grab him by his luxurious silk tie and wrench him forward, bringing his lips crashing to yours. Though you’re the one who takes the initiative he catches up quick, hands rushing to your waist, gripping your hips, squeezing your ass. You’re so eager, propelled forward by the tension that has been mounting over days of listening to his authoritative voice, watching those massive hands sliding across forms and papers, imagining them sliding through something else. He presses in against you, caging you in until you’re backing up, pulling him right along by the tie.
Until your back’s against the wall and suddenly you’re being lifted. Pressed against the brick of his small office. Small since he’s still new to the firm of course, though with his many talents you’re sure he won’t stay here for long. What’s certainly not small is the massive bulge that presses up against you as he grinds his hips against yours, your legs squeezing around his waist to keep you aloft.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you say breathlessly with a smile and not a single ounce of sincerity. Your statement obligatory but only teasing. Kylo’s lips bruise their way down your jaw, your throat, until his teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder, causing you to buck into him and cry out. You should care that the paralegals outside his office can probably hear you but you just don’t. You know that if roles were reversed they would be equally happy to wind their legs around this god in a good suit.
“You shouldn’t have committed that crime, either. Life is full of things you shouldn’t do,” he says in a low, measured voice. His eyes are hooded and he watches you as he tongues the spot he had bitten so deeply at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, just as a hand slides down to cup your mound through your stylish cigarette pants. His index finger presses tight circles through the fabric, somehow zeroed in right over your clit, if a little off center, making you gyrate your hips in desperate need for more, harder, him.
“But you don’t strike me as a woman who says no to her desires just because they are improper.”
“And you don’t seem like a man who gives a fuck if a woman’s desires are improper.”
Suddenly you’re whirled around and seated on the edge of his desk, paperwork flying everywhere. You should probably care about that. Those papers were the key to your acquittal. To your freedom from scrutiny. To your ability to walk away from this world of hearings and trials and litigation. But as he pushes against you to make your back press into the hard wood of his desk, his body finding its place between your thighs, clothed cock nudging insistently at your core, walking away is the last thing on your mind.
“You, my dear, are more than improper,” Kylo says, his voice low. His hands leave your waist – rendered unnecessary by the intense way his pelvis keeps you pinned to the table – traveling up your body to rip open your blouse. Buttons ricochet and it’s absurd, its cliché, its overly dramatic, but the way his hands descend on your bra-clad breasts are none of those things. More like rough, delicious, demanding. He kneads the heaving flesh and licks a long stripe up the valley between them, starting from your sternum and ending with a lascivious suck right beneath your pulse point. You moan at full volume now, hips undulating against his, thighs pulling him in for more pressure. Kylo chuckles against your throat, holding you down against the table by the weight of his grasp on your breasts. “The word ‘obscene’ comes to mind.”
“That’s slander,” you reply, though it comes out in a huff. Suddenly Kylo reduces contact, pulling away his upper body. You sit up on your elbows in panic, only find him watching you with a bemused smirk, hips still slotted between your thighs, hands working deftly at his belt.
“What are you going to do, sue me?”
When Kylo frees his cock – and absolute monster, red at the tip and leaking with precum – his hands move to your hips, yanking down your pants as if they personally offended them. You’d teased him in short dresses and skirts every other day since he’d begun counseling you. How fucking dare you make it harder for him today, of all days.
Once divested of your pants you pull Kylo to by the tie again, this time slower.
“I’ll sic my lawyer on you,” you whisper against the shell of his ear when he’s finally bent over you fully, distracted by the task of lining himself up with your entrance. “He’s a real wolf. Goes for the jugular.”
Kylo practically growls in response before sheathing himself fully in your soaking cunt. You clench around him immediately, barely getting to flutter your walls before he’s pulling back and ramming right back in. The desk squeaks with the force of his strokes and the way your body slides against it. Oh yes. The paralegals are jealous.
“Sounds like he’ll get you off,” Kylo spits through gritted teeth, though humor dances behind his black-blown eyes. Your own eyes roll back in your head when his hand roughly takes hold of one of your breast, manhandling it and pinching at the nipple.
“Oh he’ll get me off – ah!” You almost lose your ability to speak for a second, which would a shame because it would mean you’d have to stop this verbal dance. Through heavy pants you speak up again. “He’s really…really…good.”
“Oh yeah? He’s good?” Kylo eggs you on. Sweat collects on his brow and his perfectly coiffed hair bounces looser, more tousled, but otherwise he still seems remarkably put together, in spite of the look of agonized pleasure rippling across his face. His cock protrudes from his open pants but other than that his clothes are surprisingly unrumpled. You, on the other hand, must look thoroughly debauched with your bare legs around his waist, panties pulled to the side, shirt ripped open and his hands pulling your breasts wantonly from their bra cups.
“Yeah, so good – fuck!”
“Is he big?” Kylo prompts, snapping his hips so hard suddenly you swear you feel him in your throat. When you don’t answer his hand snakes up to your face to deliver a light, orienting pat to your cheek. Your eyes open, slightly unfocused. “His cock. Is it big?”
“W-what – oh god – what does that have to do with being a lawyer?” you challenge, which gets a breathless laugh out of him.
“Everything, baby.”
And Kylo is big, and he does get you off – two times in his office, once in the court room the next day at your trial, and then twice again back at his office.
After all, he’s big good.
~*~
Smaller tag list since I don’t usually write Kylo and idk who is down (let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged in the future!) : @paper-n-ashes @foxilayde @maryforyou @maybe-your-left @finn-ray-nal-beads @mariesackler @sacklerscumrag @hopeamarsu @aliveandlonely @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @safarigirlsp @millenialcatlady @can-i-pls-get-a-waffle @mrs-zimmerman @clydesfavoritegirl @direnightshade @historyandfandoms50
***Retagged because some apparently didn’t work - sorry if you got double notified!!!
#lmao did I write this out of nowhere because of too much encouragement - yes#Kylo Ren x reader#Kylo Ren AU#Lawyer!Kylo Ren#Lawyer!Kylo Ren smut#Kylo Ren x you#smut#writing#roanniom#tw: semi public sex#cw: semi-public sex
192 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Quick Meeting pt. 2
Damian is an exchange student in Paris, and Marinette doesn’t know too much about him, till a chance encounter provides an opportunity
I finally figured out what was going on and am finally able to post part two here, finally. I’m not gonna retag those who wanted to be tagged, (tell me if you want to be) but I will put on the post that I figured it out. Thanks for sticking with me during the technical difficulties
Read part one here
Part 3 here
part 4 here
They looked at each other vibrant blue eyes meeting piercing green. The entire class which minutes before were laughing and jeering had quieted to little more than a faint buzz. The two hadn’t said anything after they introduced themselves, both too startled to say anything else. They were left there in peace until a brunette slid between the two blocking Marinette's view of Damian.
“You must be the exchange student, I’m Lila. Don’t worry, I'll introduce you to the rest of the class and give you the tour later.” The liar herself took Damian by the elbow and dragged him off before he could say anything, still caught off guard by Marinette’s blue eyes.
There goes my chance at a friend. Marinette thought to herself fully knowing how much Lila could worm her way into anyones head. The bluenette with the sketchbook in hand went back up to her desk. She sank into her chair glad to be ignored by her former friends. Looking down she saw that most of the pages were pretty ripped up but still salvageable and right on top was the picture she had begun drawing of Damian’s eye. Grabbing her pen she started drawing the second one resolving to make it a matching pair. She was beginning to shade the second eye when a small tap on her shoulder made her jump three feet out of her chair.
“Is there someone sitting next to you?” The familiarly cold voice said.
“What? Right! No one is sitting next to me, except if you want to then I guess there is someone sitting next to me and…” Marinette tapered off as she saw Lila glaring at her. Even though she was Ladybug Marinette still wanted to avoid Lila’s ire, it was a pain to deal with at school.
Damian let out a quiet chuckle, “I guess there’s gonna be someone sitting next to you then.” He quietly sat himself down in the chair next to Marinette and started getting his books out. “Nice drawing by the way.” Marinette blushed slightly.
“Ok class time to start.” Madame Bustier said walking into the room, the conversation ceased from there, yet both parties knew they had just found a new ally.
-------------------
“What’s up Buginette.” Chat Noir said hopping down next to Ladybug. His bell made a soft little chime.
“Ya know, just the fifth night up in a row, I have three sewing projects to do.” She paused a beat, “Hey do you know anything about that new kid in class?” It had been a few weeks after Marinette gained guardianship when they decided to reveal their identities. With Adrien dating Kagami and Marinette thoroughly over her crush they both laughed at the situation and came out as good friends, and even though Damian had been in class for a week she still knew barely anything about him.
“Same as you, exchange student from Gotham. Cold, calm, and about to murder Lila.” Chat replied. He must’ve seen Damian’s face when Lila claimed she knew the Waynes. “Why? Do you like him?” Ladybug looked over to see Chat Noir’s face was filled with mocking innocence. Ladybug blushed under her mask.
“I will push you off the Eiffel Tower, or worse yet, sick Auroroe on your and Kagami’s relationship. I can see the headline now ‘Superhero Chat Noir dating girlfriend of Adrien Agreste! What will the model do when he finds out?’” Chat gave her a half-hearted punch in the arm for that, and they both had a laugh.
A few minutes later Ladybug noticed a quick blur ducking between alleyways. She gave Chat a nudge, “Did you see that?”
“See what?” He responded groggily.
“I thought I saw something ducking between the allies. It’s nothing”
“Ladybug, I know you, if you thought you saw something you saw something. I’d say go check it out. If it’s nothing, no big deal.”
“Alright, I’ll be back so don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” she smirked back at him, without looking she threw her yoyo in the direction of the blur and swung herself out.
“That happened one time!” He yelled after her.
Ladybug swung through the alleys looking for the blur when she spotted a small light out of the corner of her eye. There it is. She stopped her approach when she heard a low voice murmur
“Yes Kent I will get you those pastries you can pick them up tomorrow?” It was Damian, Ladybug would have known the voice anywhere. She opened up her yoyo to call Chat “Hey meet me at the eiffel tower in five minutes.” Now all she had to figure out how she would get Damian up to the tower.
It didn’t take the superheroine to think up an idea. Sorry. She thought to herself before throwing her yoyo his way.
-----------------------
Damian had just disconnected the call when he felt a cool wire wrap around his body. I do not need this right now he thought to himself as he was whipped up from the ground and into the arms of a familiar red and black clad superheroine.
“Ya know you could have just asked.” He said annoyed.
“But where’s the fun in that, and anyway I’ve got some questions for you.” her voice was lighter than it had been the other day, probably because there was no villain to fight.
She carried him up to a part of the Eiffel tower not easily seen by the public, where she proceeded to tie him dangling upside down by her yoyo.
“Whyyy.” he grumbled to himself, if he wanted this kind of treatment he would have stayed in Gotham with Todd.
“Ok first question, big one here. Do you know who I am?” She said sitting down.
“I don’t know your hero name, although I think your partner said Ladybug the other day, right after his terrible pun.”
“Rude.” A black clad boy said coming out of the shadows. A tail swished behind him.
“Well it’s true, you’re almost as bad as Grayson.” Damian was getting tired of this, he tried to feel into his pockets for his knife, before remembering he had left it back at his apartment.
“Everyone knows I’m Ladybug, I’m asking if you know who I am outside of the mask.” Damian turned towards the girl when she spoke.
“Well yeah. It’s rather hard to hide the blue hair.” And I’d never forget those blue eyes. The thought surprised even him.
She said something under her breath before looking at him, “This could be an issue, but if you already know then I guess there’s no use in trying to tell you off. I’m surprised, but I guess despite your looks you’re actually rather smart.”
The boy next to her let out a small laugh. “Are you going to introduce us Buginette, or am I going to have to guess.”
“Chat Noir, meet Damian. Damian meet Chat Noir.”
“So you’re the new exchange student. Ya know, put you in a fancy suit and add a little more scowl I’d think you were the Damian Wayne.” This warranted a rare laugh from Damian who after a few moments said,
“Because I am.” Chat Noir and Ladybug went pale. Damian took advantage of them being dumbstruck to feel into his pocket, There it is! He felt his phone, with a few taps he was able to hopefully get Jon’s contact up after all it was the last one he texted. He typed:
Eiffel Tower. Get here now.
“Oh. Shit.” the soft expletive dragged him from the texting. Marinette. No Ladybug in this costume, looked at him. “Lila’s new lie. Oh, my Kwamii. She’s gonna get it.”
“What’s the lie?” Chat Noir and Damian said at the same time.
“She said she’s dating, well, you.” She looked at Damian, after a beat the costume clad heroes burst into laughing, Damian looked horrified. He knew about her lying about knowing his family but this was new.
The giggling of the two heroes was interrupted when a blue blur came out of nowhere a few minutes later, and a moment after that the blur solidified into the form of a boy who had a too familiar blue suit. Damian who had just been swinging upside down was now being carried bridal style by the boy.
“We never speak of this to anyone.” He said in a low voice to Jon. “If my brothers find out I will personally end you.”
“Yeah, yeah. You say that every time I have to come save you.” The boys southern twang was more prominent than usual, probably because Damian had been spending so much time around the French. A soft “Ahem” broke the two out of their talking..
“Hello, who are you, what are you doing here…”
“And would you mind putting down the angry child.” Chat interrupted Ladybug.
“I am your age cat boy.” Damian responded, his voice may have been cool but there was a slight blush to his cheeks.
“Oh yeah. Sorry, I just got a text from Damian here saying ‘Rival them get here now.’ I had to ask Con to help, but we figured Damian meant the Eiffel Tower.” Jon put Damian down and handed the yoyo back to Ladybug. “Anyway I figured if Damian was asking for help then he actually needed it. Also my names J-”
“Superboy.” Damian interrupted before Jon could give away his secret identity. Again. Ladybug was looking at Damian, probably wondering why he had Superboys phone number, she’d hopefully come to the same conclusion everyone else did. That the youngest Wayne got into enough trouble he needed a fast way to contact the supers.
“Good to meet you superboy, I’m Ladybug and this is Chat Noir.” She took her gaze off Damian to focus it on Superboy. “Will you be in Paris long?”
“I’ll probably stay the night, make sure no one else tries to hurt Damian. Plus there's a bakery I really want to go to when it opens, the Dupain-Cheng Bakery. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.” Ladybug paled a little bit and looked at Damian.
“He doesn’t know, he’s just focused on his stomach.” Ladybug breathed a sigh of relief.
“Hey that's rude.” Jon said to Damian.
“It’s me, you expect anything different.”
“Ladybug gave a snort, “Well as funny as this is I need to talk to Damian alone, Chat can you handle patrol for a little bit? Maybe take Superboy show him around Paris for a bit.”
“Yeah I’ve got it.” with a mock bow he motioned for Superboy to follow him. Jon recognizing a fellow weeb on sight asked him about anime, and the two went off singing some theme song from their favorite anime.
“I’m suddenly very glad I’m not on patrol.” Ladybug said quietly to Damian.
“Agreed.”
------------------------------
It had been a long night for Marinette, first finding out Damian was a Wayne then meeting Superboy, she had to get him alone before she exploded.
“So what did you want to talk about?” Damian turned his green eyes towards her.
“I have several questions, but is there somewhere more private we could talk?” The Paris night grew colder as the stood still.
“Yeah, we can talk at my place.” Which is how Marinette Dupain-Cheng wound up drinking hot coco sitting on the couch at Damian Wayne's apartment.
“I can’t believe that your father lets you stay in the apartment on your own.”
“Well I’m seventeen, he knows I can take care of myself. Plus he either has one of my brothers videochat me, or pop in for a ‘quick visit’ which is their version of making sure I haven’t done some irreparable damage to anything.” He said, pouring himself a cup of tea.
“Fair enough, now do you want to tell me why you were slinking in the alleys?” She said.
“Well I needed some air. And I was maybe… looking for you.” He begrudgingly said the last part.
Marinette blushed a little bit, “And why were you looking for me?”
“Well learning that Paris has heroes, plus getting saved by one makes me a little curious. Plus after class the other day I wanted to talk.” He took a sip of his tea.
“Alright. Also since you apparently know superboy,” Marinette was still surprised about that fact, “there’s something I wanted to ask you about.”
“Ok, shoot.”
“I noticed that ever since you came here a week ago Robin, usually right next to Batman, hasn’t been seen. Red Robin has been popping up, but no Robin. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?” Although she tried to make her voice as non confrontational as possible, she still saw Damian pale. He tried to mask it by drinking his tea but Marinette still saw how he hesitated before he said,
“I don’t know Robin, I know Superboy because he is freakishly friendly and helps out around Gotham a lot.” Marinette noticed how he stared at his drink the entire time he was explaining it to her. She was debating about pushing the point further before he interrupted saying, “It wouldn’t matter if I knew him or not, the Bats all keep their identities close to their chests. No one knows who any of them are.” When he was done he looked up at Marinette, she noticed how his eyes were pleading with her to just go with it, so she did.
“Ok, so what did you want to talk about regarding Paris’ heroes.” He looked relieved, finally able to change the topic.
“Well, how did you get your powers? How long have you been active? Who are you facing? And why haven’t you called the Justice League for help?” He fired off the questions, not giving her a chance to respond.
“One at a time,” she laughed, “We get our powers from our kwamis, little gods who reside in the miraculous jewel, my kwami is named Tikki.” At mention of her name the Kwami came out and gave a little hello. “We’ve been active for about 3 years, we’re facing a villain named Hawkmoth who can use people's emotions and turn them into villains. And we did call the Justice League for help when we first started.. Green Lantern told us not to prank call him again.” When Marinette finished Damian looked angry. Mainly at the Green Lantern bit she mentioned.
“I’ll have to talk to Superboy about it.” His voice which had been warming up suddenly felt icy.
“Speaking of which I should get back to Chat, before he and superboy decide to test their powers on each other.” Setting her cup down on the coffee table she stood up. “Thanks for the hot chocolate, and the conversation Damian, I’ll make sure to send Superboy your way. See you in class.” She said her transformation words followed by a quick “bug-out” before leaping through the window.
---------------------------
Damian sat in the suddenly empty room which smelled like freshly baked bread. Marinette was true to her promise and a few minutes later Supreboy came crashing through the window. After he changed he spent the next ten minutes telling Damian about how he and Chat went around the city just talking about anime, and the differences between English and French dubs. Both eventually agreeing subbed was the best. Damian wasn’t listening instead thinking about Marinette. Smarter than she seems he thought to himself, afterall she came very close to figuring out who he was. He made a mental note to his father that they need a Robin appearance soon.
“Damian. Damian! Are you even listening to me?” Jon’s voice cut through his thoughts.
“Sorry Kent I was thinking about someone else.” Jon looked at Damian incredulously.
“I might need to get my ears cleaned. Did you just say you were thinking about someone else?! Was it that superhero Ladybug? Do you like her?” Damian’s fury was undercut by the blush that appeared on his face.
“I don’t like anyone Kent you know that, and anyway she’s a hero with a mask. I can’t like anyone who is still wearing a mask around me.” Damian set his cup down a little harder than he needed to.
“I’m sure the great detective can figure out who's behind that mask pretty easily.”
“Keep it up Kent and I’ll be sending you back to Metropolis tonight. The hard way.”
Jon held his hands up in defeat. “Fine. Fine, but you and I are going to that bakery tomorrow.”
Damian looked at Jon, “The Dupain-Cheng Bakery?” A plan was forming in his head.
“That’s the one.”
“Not a bad idea.” It was time to talk to Marinette outside of class, and outside of the mask.
#marinette dupen chang#marinette x batfam#damian x marinette#dcxml#damianette#platonic lady noir#platonic adrienette#chat noir#ladybug#adrien agreste
227 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey I saw you kept doing that asterisk thingy to Webber's name and I wondered why? Did he do something? Or did he say something? Sorry, but I'm just curious
Ah. Yeah. I figured I should address this pretty soon anyways. There were 2 tweets about a year ago that I’ll put under the cut. It was an offhand (jokey?) comment that’s ignorant at best, transphobic at worst, and when somebody challenged him about it he said “I’m a proud heterosexual”.
To the best of my knowledge he hasn’t demonstrated any remorse or changed attitude on the subject. If he has, then great, I’ll go back and retag all his stuff (atm I’m using #seb’s red bull teammate). I don’t mind how others choose to handle it and obviously I don’t quite feel the need to cancel him. It’s a personal grudge I guess, I figured out that I’m trans in the last couple months and those dumb tweets were one little splinter among many I had to pull out before I could come around.
I genuinely don’t mind how others want to treat him. I’m guessing a lot of people had the same question, I know the fandom’s grown a lot in the last year, I’m always happy to furnish the facts. And happy to take correction if I’m missing relevant information. Unlike, you know, the guy who lost to Sebastian Vettel a lot.
(oh my god oh my god on another note this is the first time i’ve said i’m trans to anybody but my therapist. this is wild. very cool but wild. maybe i could’ve done it earlier or a different way but using seb vettel as a platform for coming out is absolutely perfect ahahahaa)
#shieldmaidenof221b#trans rights#seb's red bull teammate#tyvm for asking! <3#discourse?#fix tags later
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
And It All Fell Down, Part 2.
Fic: And It All Fell Down, Part 2.
Writer’s Note: This is, as you can probably tell, a Part 2 of the fanfic that I wrote for @deafgirl-and-hercoven ‘s Heir AU. I worked on this one with her, and I had a blast doing it!
Ships: Romantic Demus/Dukeceit
Warnings: Depression (in the past), random words in all caps, broken limb (off screen) (Again, if anything needs to be retagged, please tell me!)
Word Count: 2866
Summary: Princess, Deceit and Remus’s greatest secret, has just been revealed to the other Sides and Thomas. Also, a conversation was greatly overdue.
Princess blinked. Suddenly she wasn’t in Remus’s lovingly comforting embrace anymore, where he had pulled her into his arms after Deceit had disappeared from right in front of her with no warning. She was cold, and something was hurting, and there were strangers looking at her. Too many people - where did they come from - where was she? She whimpered, curling in on herself, scanning her surroundings, searching the strange new figures for a familiar face. She spun in a circle, and then stopped, with a feeling of relief amongst the panic that was washing over her. She darted into Deceit’s arms, crying.
“Mommy!”
“MOMMY?!” the others echoed in varying levels of shock and confusion. Then they all started talking over each other, asking questions “How?” and ”When?” and ”Why?”. The voices swirled around Princess, loud and harsh-sounding, causing her to bury her face even deeper into Deceit’s shirtfront. He hugged her with fierce protective love, bringing out all of his arms to do so, ignoring the horrified looks he got from the others, completely concentrating on his daughter as she whimpered.
His baby girl, his special care, his princess . . . no, no, no, don’t cry, he wanted to whisper, it’s going to be okay. But what if it wasn’t? What if-
Remus popped up, looking panicked and disheveled. He had gone to comfort Princess, only to have her snatched out of his arms by an invisible force. Upon locating his daughter, his eyes at first softened with relief, then melted with heartbreak. His baby girl was crying into his boyfriend’s shirtfront with terror, and he wanted to protect her, to make whatever had done that to her hurt and bleed. He knew what had done it though, and he knew he couldn’t do that to Thomas - curse object impermanence, his child was TERRIFIED and he wanted to DO SOMETHING.
Princess was crying, loud, gasping, chocking sobs.
“Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, why did you g-go?! Did you not - not love me anym-more?! Why was I taken away f-from Daddy? Where a-are w-we?”
Deceit ran his gloved fingers through Princess’s hair calmingly. “Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, sweetie, it’s okay, shhh, Mommy’s here. Shhh, shh, you’re going to be fine. Hey, look at me, Princess, look at me.”
Princess raised her reddened eyes up to meet Deceit’s own, tears still falling down her cheeks, but slower now. She was hiccuping as she tried to choke her tears back.
“Remember that Mommy loves you very, very much, okay? And so does Daddy. You don’t have to cry, it’s all okay. It’s all going to be okay.” He kissed her forehead before shifting slightly to the side to allow her to see the rest of the room. “Remember when Daddy and I were talking about Thomas and the other Sides?”
“Uh huh,” Princess murmured softly, recovering slightly. She blinked at the other occupants of the room shyly.
Deceit pointed at Thomas. “Well, Thomas summoned you. And Mommy, too, We have a VERY important job to do.” He said, bopping her lightly on the nose. She gasped. One last tear rolled own her cheek, unnoticed.
“I’m a Side too?! Like you and Butt?”
“Pardon me, but who is ‘Butt’?” Logan interjected, grimacing.
Princess stared at him, wide-eyed for a moment as if startled by his voice, before pointing at Remus. “It means Best Uncle in The Thomas!”
At the confused looks that garnered, Deceit clarified, “She’s learning acronyms.”
“Wait,” Roman interjected, “If Remus is Butt, then who is Daddy?”
Remus looked as if he were about to make a dirty comment, but Deceit silenced him with a glare. Remus shut up, no powers necessary, and Deceit answered instead. “Princess used to call Remus Daddy, and still does in . . .” he paused, glancing down at her, nestled in his arms, “Times of trial. But Princess wanted to know why Remus says ‘Daddy’ oddly, on occasion, and Remus, naturally, explained it to her. Then she changed what she called him to Butt.”
Roman looked as if he were thinking this over, but the rest of the Sides nodded in comprehension. Patton looked a wee bit confused also, and Deceit decided to steer the conversation away from the previous topic. He looked back down at Princess.
“And, d’you see him?” Deceit asked, gesturing to Patton. Princess nodded.
“I’m not blind, Dee!” She giggled.
“Ah, the sarcasm is strong in that one,” Virgil commented, relaxing his posture slightly. Princess giggled at his words. Deceit rolled his eyes, trying to take back control of the conversation.
“That’s Patton-”
“The Light Side daddy!” Princess interrupted, gleeful to know the answer.
Patton made an aww! noise. “You taught her that?”
Remus smiled proudly. “We never said anything bad about any of you. Although, Double Dee here was worried that because of the bitterness between our groups, you would turn our princess against us.”
The other sides looked guilty for putting that horrible thought in Deceit’s mind. Deceit flushed, embarrassed to have his innermost worries laid out for his “coworkers” to see.
“Oh! Well, erm, that’s uhhh, one of many factors . . .”
Princess pulled on his caplet for attention. “Dee! Dee! Again! Again!”
Chuckling, Deceit pointed to Logan. “You want to play a guessing game? Okay, Princess, who’s that?”
“The smart Light Side! Lo Lo! Like how you’re the smartest Dark Side, Dee!”
Logan smiled at Princess for the first time. He had been paying close attention to this new arrival, but until that moment it was with curiosity devoid of emotion. He couldn’t help enjoying that this child knew that he was the “smart one”, at least out of the Light Sides. His inner teacher was pleased by this child, and he was feeling a feeling that felt the way chocolate chip muffins smelled. Was that normal? Logan decided that he liked it.
“That’s very correct, my dear. But his name is Logan.”
Princess rolled her eyes at him, which was rather comical, as she hadn’t fully gotten that hang of doing that without moving her whole head.
“It’s a nickname, Dee!”
“My apologies.” Deceit smiled. He looked at Roman then, squashing down six years worth of worry and evasiveness to do so. “Now, my little angel, do you remember when I told you that even though I made you with science, you don’t hold my blood?”
Princess nodded enthusiastically. “Uh huh! You used donors! Someone else’s duna!”
“DNA, sweetie.” Deceit corrected gently.
“Oh. Yeah. That.” Princess agreed.
“Do you know who that is?” Deceit asked, pointing to Roman. Princess nodded again.
“That’s Prince Roman. He’s Butt’s brother! I want a brother. Or a sister. Roman helps Butt with creativity!”
Roman looked a little affronted at being reduced to “help”, and Remus looked gleeful to see his brother affronted, and probably would have given him a playful shoulder punch if he were not so far away. At some point during all this, Remus had moved to stand next to Deceit and Princess, causing Logan to move closer to Virgil to make room. Virgil, in turn, had shifted closer to Princey.
Deceit pushed on with the lesson. “Yes, Princess, that’s right. I used Roman’s DNA to make you. And, Virgil’s, too.” Deceit gestured towards Virgil.
“Anxiety!”
“Yes, dearest, exactly. You have both of their DNA running through those little veins of yours.” Deceit started to tickle Princess. She laughed, rolling out of his arms and onto the floor. “If they want to be your other Mommy and Daddy that’s okay.” he glanced at Roman and Virgil, who seemed frozen, shocked. Deceit knew he would have to have a proper conversation with them later about this, but Princess was his priority right now. “Then you would have two mommies and two daddies.”
“Yay!” Princess said, before being interrupted by a giant yawn.
“Oh no, is someone ready for a nap?” Deceit asked.
Princess went limp. “Nooooooooooo! I don’t wanna nap!”
“How about this? You take a nap, and when you wake up, you can have a cookie?” Deceit offered, bribing his daughter for the upteenth time. Princess fell for it, just as she usually did.
“Yay! Can Butt tuck me in?” Princess asked.
“Of course,” Deceit conceded, giving her a loving peck of the cheek before putting her down. Princess scampered into Remus’s embrace before grabbing hold of his hand.
“Bye-bye!” She said, waving as she and Remus sank down together. Just before leaving Deceit’s field of vision, Remus sent Deceit a quick look of reassurance and loving support. The look gave Deceit the strength to not sink out with them, and stay for what he knew was inevitable. Deceit sighed softly, taking off his hat for a moment to run his gloved fingers through his hair.
“I’ll be taking your questions now,” he said as he replaced his hat.
There was a beat of silence before Logan spoke up. “How?”
“An artificial womb.” Deceit answered softly. Logan, ever the curious one, looked like he wanted to know more, but he was interrupted be fore he could get details.
“Why?” Virgil asked.
Deceit wouldn’t be able to explain why he reacted the way he did later, but in the present, Deceit just snapped.
“Why? WHY?! Because I’m never WANTED except for Remus! NO ONE EXCEPT FOR HIM EVEN THOUGHT I WAS NECESSARY! DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT’S LIKE? To be completely unwanted, and to be thought by all around you to be unnecessary? You’ve forgotten. When you LEFT US for the LIGHT SIDE, I was CONSTANTLY ALONE! Remus was in the Imagination all day and I was LOOSING MY MIND. I needed a project to work on to keep my mind off of that fact!”
Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw Thomas look guiltily at the ground, but Deceit was entirely focused on finally being honest. “So I found an article on fake wombs. I thought, ‘Hey, maybe this would solve both of your problems with one stone!’. Remus agreed, I think, at first only because he was scared that I would stop getting out of bed in the morning. So he helped me build a fake womb. We tried, again, and again, and again, with our DNA, but it WOULDN’T WORK. I nearly gave up on just about everything before Remus suggested getting donors. But of course we weren’t going to just go up to you and say ‘Hey, Virge, since you left I’ve been severely depressed and have almost given up on existing, would you mind donating some DNA for me to make a child so I don’t have to think about you?’. NO! At best you would have felt guilty. As for who we chose, WE CHOSE YOU IDIOTS BECAUSE ROMAN IS AS CLOSE TO REMUS AS IT GETS, AND YOU WERE A DARK SIDE!”
Roman looked instinctively offended by that, but his expression quickly morphed back to conflict. It looked like he was starting to process that fact that he had a child. Virgil was just staring at Deceit, eyes wide and chest heaving. Deceit wasn’t done yet, though.
“And you know why we hid her so long. I worked my ASS off just for Princess to EXIST! I almost killed myself in the process, but she lived. If I had to make a choice, I would chose her life over mine any day. I LOVE HER! You may see us as villains, but so help me, if you ever put your bigoted division into her eyes, you will regret EVER BEING FORMED!”
The room was quiet for a few seconds. Deceit realized that he was gasping for air, and mentally counted down from ten to try to regain control. He looked around the room at the others. Virgil was taking just as big gulps of breath as Deceit, and was trying equally hard to regulate them. Roman was still frozen like he was still processing the fact that he technically had a child now. Logan looked like the emotions were starting to get to him, and he didn’t quite know what to do. Patton looked like someone had handed him a new kind of spider and told him that it needed emotional support. Thomas looked frightened, but also like he was suddenly understanding Deceit for the first time. That was . . . new.
Patton was the first to regain control of himself long enough to speak. Sighing softly, he frowned, looking at Deceit. “Deceit . . . I’m so sorry that we treated you like we did. We had no idea how much you were hurting. And, I want you to know that Princess is completely welcome here.” The look he shot around the toom at the other Light Sides brooked no argument. “I’m sure that we will all try our best to work with you in a way so we can all, um . . .”
Deceit consciously relaxed his shoulders a fraction. “Don’t hurt yourself. I’ll be okay working with you, and Remus will as well. Princess is so curious about everything, Remus and I simply cannot keep up. Perhaps, you, Logan, could educate her?”
Logan blinked, surprised. “You . . . you want me?”
“It makes sense.” Deceit said. Logan looked a little bit shocked, and rather honored. He hadn’t thought that he would ever get a chance to really, properly teach someone, regardless of the fact that his first manifestation was that of a teacher from Thomas’s Vines. He didn’t think that anyone knew that he even wanted to be a teacher. And he definitely didn’t think that the ones who would notice would be the ones that he routinely countered - even if he agreed with their points. Logan smiled then, as warmly as anyone had ever seen him smile.
“I would be honored.”
Deceit glanced at the others, eyebrow raised in an indication that he would be amenable to more inquiries.
“How . . . how old is she?” Roman asked.
Deceit’s gaze turned wistful. “She’s turning six in April. God . . . I still cannot believe that it has been so long . . .”
Roman finally smiled. The Thomas-really-wants-to-have-kids instinct was overriding his confusion. “I see. Anything else we should know about her?”
“Well, she is basically a miniature you, Roman, but with Virgil’s unfiltered anxiety. We’re working with her on it. She’s scared of using her own powers, but that is a story for another time.” Virgil looked guilty at that.
“She loves music. Ah, ooh! She is very hard to say no to. Exhibit a) She did my makeup.” Dee chuckled, gesturing at his face. “She is very determined in everything that she does. Nothing goes unfinished if she has anything to say about it.”
Roman looked proud of her. Logan nodded his approval as well.
Deceit continued. “She loves snow in the Imagination . . .” he chuckled again. The others had never heard him laugh like he had today before, warm and soft and full of love, without a trace of sardonic belittlement in sight.
“When she was two, Remus introduced her to snow for the first time. She just stood there for a moment before falling face first into the snow and just . . . laying there. She wasn’t bothered by it at all. What a crazy kid.” He smiled off into the distance of fond memory for a moment before pulling himself back to the present.
“Oh, and one more thing: She is terrified of rats. Another long story.”
“Ahem. So, does she have a real name?” Logan asked curiously.
“Oh, no,” Deceit replied, subdued “When she broke free from the fake womb, I . . . I didn’t want to name her because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to take it if you . . . if you all took her away from me. So I didn’t want to get attached, but Remus started calling her Princess 626, not just normal 626-”
“Makes sense, after all, she is royalty,” Roman grinned. Deceit glared at him balefully for interrupting before continuing as if he hadn’t spoken.
“The next thing we knew, we were calling her Princess like it was her real name. But it is just a nickname - she had full creativity over her full name. So far, she has called herself Bob, Cat, Dean, Grey . . . pretty much anything she could think of, but she hasn’t ever been able to settle on one for long. Though we don’t mind calling her Princess.”
Virgil took in one last deep breath, making sure he was calm enough not to accidentally use his Tempest Tongue before asking, “Um, w-who dyed her hair?”
“Meee!” Remus popped back up, making Virgil jump. He grinned at the Anxious side cheekily before turning to Deceit. “Oh, also, Double Dee, Princess is really gonna need your cuddles when she wakes up. She broke her arm when you were summoned - fell forwards with a splat onto the floor. Her words, not mine. Poor darling.” He grimaced. “N-normally a broken arm is good, but not if it’s Princess’s arm.”
“Her arm is WHAT?! I gotta go - I have to check on her!” Deceit gasped.
“Don’t worry, Dee! Took care of it!”
Deceit shook his head at his boyfriend. “Really, Remus, I greatly appreciate your help with everything I have, but I do not trust your medical care at all.” He sank down as fast as he could. Remus shrugged.
“That’s fair.”
Taglist If you want to be added, message me!):
@deafgirl-and-hercoven @fanartfunart @fandomfan315
#depression mention#demus#dukeceit#sanders side fic#sanders sides#character thomas#remus sanders#deceit sanders#roman sanders#patton sanders#virgil sanders#logan sanders#broken arm mention
66 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yugioh S4 Ep10 pt 1: Yugioh Predicted the California Drought
Ah, my break is officially over, and it’s a new year, and so far, this year kind of sucks so lets get distracted and watch some TV. IF ONLY we could solve the world’s issues with a bunch of lost children from Japan carrying magical paper cards, amiright?
Anyway, Seto reflects on these cards that he came alllll the way to California to learn about, only to learn about them, and then decide “Yeah I didn’t really want to know that, Yugi.”
I just want to remind everyone that last episode I said “and now Kaiba has joined the party” and it lasted like less than one conversation with Yugi before Seto was like “oh hell no” and just walked out in that purple ball gown, trailing behind him like a complete diva.
Yugi needs to curse his friends to like him more often, is what I’m saying.
(read more under the cut)
So, staring at the fallout of their rekindled friendship with Kaiba that lasted less than a minute, Joey makes an observation.
And then Yugi just wonders “the hell is this plot supposed to go if a Kaiba isn’t here to abduct my family/tell me what to do/get abducted themselves?”
So they decide to reach out to the only other person on this show with a degree than Seto Kaiba.
(And TBH, Seto probably just decided to buy a new degree in graphic design from Devry so he wouldn’t have to finish public school and spend another millisecond in the same room as Joey Wheeler.)
And I have to give Yugi credit for finally deciding to visit the only adult he knows in America. Way to finally find an adult, Yugi. Took 4 season’s but you’ve finally done it. Gonna go visit Arthur Hawkins and dance awkwardly around this Rebecca situation that I guess Tea is fine with now. She used to be jealous, but I think Tea genuinely enjoys spending time with Rebecca now. The jealousy kind of disappeared once the plot picked up.
And Kaiba just takes off in the most wasteful plane ever invented, off to destroy precious fossil fuels on some other side of the planet.
Kind of weird that Tea would rather fly in that asshole dragon plane than Duke Devlin’s sweet retro car, but youknow...I’ve mentioned before that Tea is secretly just a Kaiba-lite without the cards. Of course she’d prefer an asshole dragon jet.
And Yugi would be able to fit in the suit-case compartment of the dragon jet. Just put the suitcase on Mokuba’s lap, and then stuff Yugi into that little slot, he’d be fine.
And honestly Kaiba made the correct choice, because what these guys had to go through is absolutely ridiculous. First off, Duke is like “Oh, this is really close to here” (remember they are in the Financial District of SF) and he just turns directly off of 101 and blows through some bird sanctuary somewhere.
Like y’all, everywhere that doesn’t have a house or a cow field on it in the Bay Area is a protected bird sanctuary, weird fact about the Bay Area, and Duke killed so many birds this episode. The South Bay is SO DEVELOPED.
Course, that is again assuming that the art staff knew that they were drawing the Bay Area, which they SUPER DID NOT.
Now this rock structure, I’m sure, is there to mimic the next shot with the giant ass building--it helps make pleasing screen transitions. But...at what cost?
AT WHAT COST?
Just....
Like I am starting to think the landscapers only knew how to draw one type of mountain and that was it. Square mesas only. They were just unprepared for hills. And like...we only have wild grass that is green like this for like...2 months of the year. That’s it. That’s what my Winter looks like, it’s when the grass is alive.
How did this happen?
Anyway, Mai is alive, and really upset about it. Will she at all reflect on her behavior, and realize that if the main mini-bosses are telling you to knock it the hell off, then maybe there is something wrong with you? Like these are two people who I assume harvested a ton of souls off screen like actual serial killers and they’re like “Girl. You’re like being hella mean right now and need to tone it down.”
I mean, if Mai gets better, than that basically gives Joey absolutely nothing to do in this season so, gotta keep Mai completely bonkers. There she goes. On a motorcycle.
And if you thought Yugioh was done throwing recreational and vintage vehicles in your face, well don’t worry, they even got the OG vintage vehicle, check this one out:
A freakin horse.
And I have to tell you...horses are hard to draw and animate and Yugioh doesn’t do a great job and it is wonderful. I love seeing this horse kind of awkwardly stumble around. It’s very good stuff. Like clearly these artists do not love horses as much as they love one of these:
Of course, get allllll the vehicles in this episode, Yugioh, bring back Marik on his yacht, I dare you.
And then...this very bizarre set of things happen in succession. I’ll just show you.
NICE.
WOW.
That entire house just exploded.
Not just a part of it--but the entire freakin house.
They were there for like less than 30 seconds, and just demolished that entire house like it was Independence Day the movie.
And like that whole house situation was pretty bonkers anyway, not sure why they need a planetarium when they research undersea structures, but youknow what? Arthur Hawkins would.
And don’t you dare do the math and think about how much a house with a planetarium and a horse stable in it would cost in Silicon Valley. It’s way too depressing, trust me.
And yes, that probably exists. Lots of horse people in Los Altos, and it makes me wonder if maybe they based Rebecca’s home on Stanford University? Maybe? I feel like these animators think Stanford is in San Fransisco. That one seems likely to me.
Also, kudos to the horse that it got blasted 50 ft away by an explosion and not only is the horse completely OK, but so is all of her groceries. That is one power horse, right here. I mean the groceries are still covered in so much horse ass smell, but youknow, Rebecca’s 12 so it’s not the horse’s or Rebecca’s fault that she has no idea how groceries work. We should just be glad that she bought vegetables when she went to the store and not just 8 cartons of pop tarts.
So, hours pass, no police show up, and Yugi and co walk into this bleak situation.
Fortunately, the massive explosion did not explode the truck-led RV outside.
A truck that...could’ve been used to go and get the damn groceries, may I add. If Arthur Hawkins used the TRUCK and done his own job without sending his granddaughter into a modern town on a horse, then he would have been at the grocery store and his house would never have exploded. This one is on Arthur, honestly. Then again, he seems like he kinda has the parenting skills of Yugi’s family, who just kinda...delivered him to San Fransisco un-aided and was like “have fun storming the castle”
This ship is kind of hilarious in action, not gonna lie. Yugi’s here with a grandpa who came back from the dead and is like “They don’t really need your grandpa, so he’s probably fine” and it’s like wtf. That’s terrible advice, Yugi.
Anyway, they apparently needed the Oricalchos necklace that Yugi handed off to Arthur back in like the first episode. So Yugi didn’t exactly mean for this to happen, but yet again, because Yugi and Pharaoh can’t be bothered to keep track of their own magical items themselves, someone else goes off with them and gets super screwed. Again. At least Arthur isn’t totally evil (although he still might and go rogue like Marik, and we all know that would be a very funny hairstyle if it happened)
So Rebecca happens to have this necklace just on your person (WTF, ARTHUR THAT’S YOUR GRANDDAUGHTER) and she gives it back to Yugi, where it should have stayed in the first place since he’s haunted by powerful ghost powers and is the only one here that can handle all these haunted Mordor rings. (just remembered he left Bakura’s ring in Japan. I’m sure that’s not going to be a problem later.)
So, that’s all for Part One. As you can see, I’m a little behind schedule, but youknow, I got lazy over the break, and then I drew Joey Wheeler a bunch when I planned to be typing, and it was overall a really great use of my time. No regrets.
And if you just got here this is a link to read the Yugioh recaps from the start. One of these days I’ll put the link into seasons but that does mean I have to retag stuff.
#ygo#yugioh#yugioh recap#episode recap#photo recap#yugi muto#oricalchos#raphael#valon#mai valentine#joey wheeler#seto kaiba#rebecca hawkins#arthur hawkins#an explosion within a very close vicinity to a horse#tea gardner#california#somehow still san fransisco#tristan taylor#duke devlon#duke devlons really fancy vintage car that I'm super worried about#Mokuba Kaiba peaces out on the dragon plane#s4#ep10
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
Encounters
Okay so this is my first attempt at writing a one shot, and posting it. I’m only posting it cause my friend @realrandomposts told me I should. Sorry in advance for this cringe fest you’re bout to go on!
Stiles Stilinksi knew he was gay when he was fifteen years old. Fawning over the most popular girl in school, before suddenly finding himself VERY interested in one of the lacrosse players put that into perspective rather quickly. He and his best friend Scott talked things out and came to the conclusion that Lydia was merely a crush, not even a serious one at that, whereas his crush on Danny was extremely persistent and serious.
Being gay wasn’t that hard for Stiles. Despite living in a small town, everyone was surprisingly supportive of his sexuality, especially the people that truly mattered to him, like his father and friends (Danny not so much, but only because he got annoyed with Stiles’ terrible attempts to flirt with him pretty quickly.)
Stiles worked in the local Clifton’s, which was basically Beacon Hills’ version of a Walmart, albeit a little smaller. Still had the same functions however. Stiles himself worked in the Apparel department, a department usually designated for females but Stiles supposes to the managers, a gay male is basically the same thing. Assholes.
Stiles was actually having an okay shift that day, for once. No customers being rude, not being overloaded on returns from the customer service desk, that he had to retag and fold and put back in its place.
The day went south, when he saw him. Coming in early that afternoon to start his shift, he’d just clocked in and was headed to the swinging double doors that led out to merchandise floor when what Stiles could only deduce was a god walked by him. The man had to be at least 6”2’, and a wall of pure muscle, topped with short, gorgeous dark black hair that Stiles instantly wanted to run his fingers through.
He was on his phone as he passed Stiles, so he didn’t see his eye color, but man did Stiles want to suddenly know everything about this guy. Of course, he wouldn’t though. You see Stiles is a very awkward twenty year old young man, he never grew out of that phase in his teenage years, so if Stiles found someone attractive, he made sure that said person would NEVER hear from him so that he couldn’t embarrass himself in front of them.
His method, however sad and pitiful, was working well for him until about an hour before the end of his shift that night.
Every other Apparel associate, including one of his best friends Lydia, had already left for the night. He was the only one that was scheduled to 11pm that night. He was in the women’s athletics department, fixing a rack of sports shorts, when he saw a shadow out of his left peripheral. He looked up just in case it was a customer that he had to smile politely at, and made direct eye contact with the god from the back room this afternoon. Now meeting his eyes, Stiles could see that they were a hypnotic chocolate brown that Stiles felt he could just drown in.
Upon realizing that he’d actually looked into the most attractive person he’s ever seen eyes, Stiles’ instantly widened and dropped back down to the rack he was working on, barely scraping his view across the name tag on the man’s chest that read ‘Derek’, before he fixed one last hanger and instantly flew back to the fitting room to finish cleaning the rooms, not noticing how Derek’s eyes stayed on Stiles’ figure until he disappeared around the corner.
Any day Stiles worked following that mishap, he made absolutely sure that Derek was no where to be found. He didn’t want to accidentally see him again and end up embarrassing himself in front of that beautiful man by being his awkward self, as that’s all Stiles knows how to do.
Lydia thought the situation was hilarious. “Stiles, it’s just a guy! You don’t have to avoid him like the plague.” Lydia laughed two weeks later, as she leaned against the fitting room stall, staring at Stiles on the other side as he put the phone he’d just answered back in this cradle.
“You don’t understand, Lydia!” Stiles moaned, resting his head in his hands. “I made eye contact with him! DIRECT eye contact! It should be obvious why I can never let him see me again.”
“But it’s not.” Lydia shrugged. “So what? You looked a hot guy in the eyes, it’s not like you murdered his family.”
“That’s precisely why I can’t ever let him see me again. I looked him in the eyes. A man like that, you don’t just MEET his eyes without permission. You just don’t, Lydia! He’s godly, you don’t look gods in the face and get away with it! What if he’s offended now?”
Lydia rolled her eyes, fiddling with her name badge. “Honestly Stiles, you’re thinking too much into it. You’re blowing things out of proportion.”
“Maybe I am.” Stiles responded. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop avoiding him. It’s not that hard, either. I only see him like three times a week. He’s a fresh CAP2 associate, I never deal with CAP associates.”
“Whatever.” She shook her head. “I’m headed back to the men’s basics. Jennifer wants that entire section zoned and the deeper I go into it the more I want to kill myself.”
“Wait, real quick!” Stiles called out after her, pulling the fitting room keys off his forearm and the walkie talkie out of his back pocket. “It’s time for my break, can you watch fitting room until. I get back?”
Lydia held her hand out, catching the keys as he tossed them to her, instructing him to leave the walkie in the fitting room stall.
Stiles pulled his phone out the minute he got to the break room, sitting down at an empty table. He didn’t notice the tall dark and handsome guy he’d been avoiding for weeks sitting at a table a few feet away, with a dark haired beauty right beside him. The girl followed Derek’s gaze to the brown haired little twink looking boy playing on his phone. The woman met Derek’s eyes before she motioned for him to leave, getting up and walking to Stiles’ table, plopping herself down beside him.
Stiles started as someone randomly sat down with him. He usually sat by himself, as the only person who worked at Clifton’s that he actually spoke to was Lydia, and they rarely had breaks or lunch together.
“Hi.” The woman smiled at him, making him a little uneasy. This was a woman who looked like she could easily snap his neck with one hand, and laugh as she did it. In short, she looked dangerous. “I’m Cora.”
“Nice to meet you.” Stiles said politely, setting his phone down. It’s rude to talk to someone while you’re on your phone. “My name’s Stiles.”
“Weird name.” Cora replied, popping a bubblegum bubble in his face.”
“Not as weird as my actual name. Stiles in a nickname.” he shrugged.
“Wanna be friends?” Cora asked, glancing over his shoulder as Derek slowly made his way out of the break room, stopping only to glance at the two of them curiously, trying to figure out what the hell Cora was planning.
“I mean, I doubt you’d wanna be friends with little ole me but I guess I can’t tell you no. You look like the type that wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Cora smiled that sickly sweet, deadly (at least in Stiles’ opinion) smile again. “No, no I don’t.” she chuckled.
And that was how Stiles found most of his shifts passing by after that. Cora seemed to hunt Stiles down, just to talk to him and learn more about him. He learned more about her too. He found out her last name is Hale, and she was twenty-two years old. She was from a very large family, including a sister and a brother. She worked in the pharmacy department, but was friends with a lot of CAP2 associates and spent most of her time with them.
She learned everything there was to know about Stiles. His family and friends, his age, his history, and (most importantly to her plan), his sexuality.
“You’re gay?” Cora asked about three weeks after introducing herself to him. They were both coming back from lunch, and were headed into the back room to clock in.
“Well, yeah. I figured that was obvious. Most everyone can tell just from looking at me.” he replied, gesturing to his skinny, pale body covered in freckles. Cora smiles a secretive smile. Oh this is going perfectly well.
“How long have you known you’re gay?” she asked, leading the way past the double doors.
“Since I was-“ Stiles’ eyes widened, and he instantly ducked around the corner to the stock room, dragging Cora with him.
“Shit! What the fuck Stiles!” Cora hissed. Stiles shushed her, peeking around the corner to make sure Derek was out of sight.
“I’ve been avoiding this guy that works in Fresh CAP2 for like a month now, I’ve gotta make sure he doesn’t see me.” Stiles explained as he made sure the coast was clear and came out of his hiding spot.
“Fresh CAP....” she muttered, her eyes widening as she theorized, “Is his name Derek, by chance?”
Stiles side-eyed her as he swiped his name badge and hit the clock in button. “Yeah, you know him? Super tall, always looks broody, godly-looks.” Stiles sighed wistfully. “God, what I wouldn’t give to be his bottom.”
Cora wrinkled her nose up in disgust at his last comment, before clocking in herself. She didn’t need to know about Stiles’ fantasies about her brother. Not that he KNEW that was her brother, of course, but she still didn’t wanna hear about it.
“Wait wait wait.” What Stiles had said suddenly clicked in her brain. “If you have a crush on him, WHY are you avoiding him?”
Stiles scoffed. “I do not have a crush on him. I just think he’s very attractive. And domineering. And heaven sent. And-“ Stiles caught the look she was giving him and threw his hands up in defeat. “Okay so maybe I have a little crush on him. It’s very little though! But like, a month ago, I made eye contact with him and I’ve made sure to avoid him seeing me since.”
Cora didn’t bother to hide her confusion. “Why would you avoid him just because you guys made eye contact?” She didn’t understand honestly. What was the big deal?
Stiles bit his lip. “You see....I am a very awkward person, I’m sure you’ve discovered this by now. And I’m not really a very popular person either, or liked honestly.” Stiles bent his head down in shame. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m not worthy of his attention. Not like someone that looks like THAT would ever be interested in someone that looks like me. I know I’m extremely plain-looking. I just don’t want to get hurt by trying to talk to him, or anything and risk embarrassing myself in front of him. And I’m sure he doesn’t want some annoying ass kid bothering him either. I know I’m a bother, everyone tells me that often. I just don’t want HIM to hate me for bothering him, you know?”
If Cora wasn’t such a heartless person, she’d be heartbroken listening to Stiles rant about his worthlessness and being undeserving of an attractive person’s attention. Did he not know that Derek was crazy about him, and has been hurting for quite a bit of time, because of Stiles’ avoidance of him? Derek has ranted and raved to Cora more than once about the cute little apparel associate that stole his heart and has run like a bat out of hell at the sight of him since.
That was why she had befriended Stiles in the first place. She was determined to get to the bottom of Stiles’ apparent hate of her brother, because it hurt her to see her brother so sad over his crush hating him and wanting nothing to do with him.
“And what would you do, if that wasn’t the case?” Cora asked carefully. “What if he was interested in you?”
Stiles laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, right Cora. That’s never going to happen. And I’ve got to get back to the fitting room. I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”
She nodded in response, watching as the object of Derek’s affection jogged away so as not to get yelled at about being late by his friend Lydia.
That boy sure has a lot of self-deprecation. She thought to herself as she walked out to the produce section in search of her older brother. Maybe a nice loving boyfriend can help fix that. Once I fix this situation they’re in.
Later that night, his shift coming to a close, Stiles was almost done cleaning out the fitting rooms and locking the doors when he heard a throat clearing from the associate’s stall. “Give me just a sec, and I’ll be right with you!” He called over his shoulder, sweeping the dust off the floor into the dustpan and dumping it. He wiped his hands on his pants before turning to face the front of the stalls, ready to assist what he assumed was a customer.
His mouth went dry as he came face to face with the man he’d been avoiding for over a month. “Oh! Hi there. I-I think I hear someone calling my name so im just gonna go that way and never grace your sightagainokaybye!” Stiles spluttered, turning and getting ready to run from this situation of his own making.
“Wait!” Derek called out quickly, skirting around the stall and grabbing Stiles’ wrist before the younger man could get too far. “Why are you avoiding me.”
Stiles froze, so not ready for the Adonis to actually speak to him, let alone confront him about him dodging him. Maybe he doesn’t like being ignored? Yeah that’s gotta be it, he doesn’t like being ignored, therefore Stiles offended him.
“Ah, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you! I just didn’t think you’d want me to be anywhere near you after what I did.” he explained softly, trying to make his self seem as little as possible so as not to set Derek off and possibly make him even more upset.
Derek nearly growled in frustration, running a hand through his short hair. “What you did-Stiles, all you did was look at me! That doesn’t warrant suddenly treating me like I have contagious disease or something.”
Stiles blinked at him owlishly. “How do you know my name?” He wondered aloud. Derek sucked in a breath, almost lying and telling him he read his name badge, before hesitantly deciding to tell the truth. Might as well get the truth out there first.
“Cora.” he confessed.
“Cora?” Stiles echoed. “Has Cora been talking about me? I swear whatever she says isn’t true!”
Derek chuckled, slightly loosening his grip on Stiles’ wrist. “Cora’s my sister, Stiles. She’s heard me talking about the adorable Fitting Room Associate that seemingly hates me, and she took it into her own hands to find out why my crush was acting like I was gum on the bottom of his shoe.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Your crush?” Stiles questioned.
Derek smiles shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yes, my crush. I’ve been trying to work up the courage to talk to you for a while now, but then out of nowhere you just started avoiding me. It hurt, you know. And Cora, she’s helpful when she wants to be. So she made it her personal goal to get you to talk to me. She just told me today, why you’ve been doing it. And I wanted to tell you, you don’t have to. I’m not mad, I’m not upset, nothing. I just really want to get to know you better, and possibly have a relationship with you. I really like you Stiles, and I want a shot with you.”
Stiles felt his heart clench in his chest at the thought of his sadness. He didn’t know that he was hurting Derek the more he avoided him. That thought had never crossed his mind.
He slowly reached out and laid his hand on Derek’s that was still holding his arm. “I’m sorry Derek, I didn’t know you actually knew who I was, let alone enough for me to upset you by avoiding you. How can I make it up to you?”
The older man’s whole being seemed to glow with happiness at Stiles’ words. “How about this Friday, if we’re both off, we go to Rudy’s?” Derek asked, his tone very audibly hopeful.
Stiles’ own smile widened at seeing Derek so happy. “It’s a date.” he said slyly, meeting Derek’s beautiful brown eyes.
Looks like Stiles had his very first date coming up soon. And with a hot guy no less. He couldn’t wait to tell Lydia about this.
75 notes
·
View notes
Text
Don’t Breathe: Part Two
As per request of @hydra-trash-spot
Warning For: Toxic/Controlling Relationship, Emotional/Physical Abuse
(Also, side note, I’m literally incapable of proofreading unless things are in post format so please excuse my typos pff)
(Side Note pt 2, electric boogaloo; I edited it and now it’s not as BAD. Idk if this is gonna retag but if it does I’m SORRY, bc I’m awful and I’ve been fixing the formatting smh)
Sweat droplets rolled between his shoulders in a way that made his skin crawl as he shifted in his seat. Staring blankly at the paperwork in his hand, Jack began to read the paragraph at the top of the page for the fifth time.
Of course there was maintenance happening on the building’s AC unit, of course today was the hottest day of the week, and of course Brock felt the need fuck him over in more ways than one by not letting him call off work for that day. When he looked at it from Brock’s standpoint as a commander, Jack understood why. The STRIKE team had an urgent mission come up, they would be leaving for it in three days, and they needed everyone to be ready. But when he looked at it from Brock’s standpoint as his boyfriend, Jack knew it was just Brock being the biggest dick imaginable at that point. It hadn’t been enough to drag him around the house in a dog collar that left dark, saturated bruises in its wake and made speaking a chore. It wasn’t enough to humiliate him by claiming that the bruising across Jack’s nose and beneath is eyes was from him coming into unfortunate contact with the shower rod the night before. And it wasn’t enough to make Jack come to work in a heavy jacket, zipped all the way up, in ninety degree weather to hide the bruises over his throat. Because nothing was ever enough and despite trying to stay out of Brock’s line of sight all day, Jack knew he’d always be Brock’s primary target.
“I need you to pick up training with Cap today.” Brock stated plainly while JAck shared a lunch that only one of them ate.
Jack recoiled, looking up from the slowly cooling chicken pasta in front of him. He’d only gotten three bites in before he decided that it hurt too much to swallow.
“Why?” Jack grumbled, his voice low and weak from both the abuse to his vocal cords as well as disuse. He hadn’t said a word to Brock all day, the anger in him once again rising, bashing against the cage of his resolve like a wild beast trying to break free.
“‘Cause Pierce called me about havin’ another meeting this morning. I don’t got a choice here, Jackie, I already told the big guy you’d be there.” Brock explained as he scrolled through his emails at his computer.
“Why not jus’ fuckn’ reschedule.” Jack grumbled under his breath, rising from his seat and throwing his lunch into the bin by Brock’s desk with more force than necessary. The combination of the action and his attitude had Brock looking up from his work, staring at Jack with an irritated look despite the upward turn of his lip.
“What was that, mouth?” He asked and Jack hesitated for a second. He could challenge it, could try to put Brock in his place, but the lingering threat of the previous night’s events bred an unfamiliar fear in his chest and he pulled his gaze away.
“Nothin’.” He mumbled, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets before making his escape.
***
Jack sat in the gym for twenty minutes waiting for Steve.
And in that twenty minutes he contemplated what the hell had just happened. He’d never been afraid of Brock before. Upset? Yes. Wary? Of course. Angry? Abso-fucking-lutely, but afraid? Never. And whatever was causing that fear to fester in his chest was making him sick.
The doors to the gym opened and Jack broke from his thoughts, staring up to meet the bright, happy smile on Steve’s face that oh-so-awfully contrasted from his own bitter mood in a way that was borderline annoying.
“Been a while,” Steve chuckled, offering his hand to help Jack get up from his place on the floor. He took it, pulling himself up and suppressing a hiss of pain as his body ached. That brief tumble down the stairs last night must’ve taken more out of him that he originally thought.
As the two of them readied themselves; stretching, wrapping their hands, and ultimately building dread in Jack’s stomach, he couldn’t help but lose himself again.
“Are you gonna wear that the whole time?” Steve piped up, pulling Jack back to reality for the third time in the past hour.
“What?” He asked, forcing his shoulder to stretch despite the strain of his muscle.
“That jacket.” Steve elaborated, gesturing at him to emphasize.
Jack glanced down at it, somehow momentarily forgetting he had it on, before shrugging with a nod.
“Yeah.”
That was all he chose to say before the two of them stepped into the ring. There he stood: in a jacket, white basketball shorts, and black athletic ankle supports, staring at Steve who wore something similar, just with a tank top instead.
The two of them sparred for a bit and from the very beginning, Jack knew it wasn’t going to end well for him. The soreness that blanketed him only seemed to get heavier the longer he tried to force his body to move. It slowed his reactions, made it impossible to keep up with the living god that was Steve Rogers. Jack didn’t think he could take goddamn Captain America down even on a good day so trying to on a day where all of his muscles were simultaneously on fire definitely wasn’t going to work in his favor.
And try as he might, one particularly well timed hit to his ribs had him on the floor. When he looked at the clock, he’d found that they’d been at it for a solid forty-five minutes and Jack was almost impressed with himself. That is until Steve fussed over him like a damn mother hen.
“Shit, Rollins are you alright?” Steve asked, dropping to his knees to seemingly try and get a closer look at Jack who, in turn, waved him off as he spit his mouthguard out onto the floor.
“M’ fine,” Jack wheezed unconvincingly as he pushed himself up with one arm, the other wrapped securely around his chest. Steve didn’t seem convinced, deciding to go for the jacket which had Jack pulling away reflexively.
Steve paused, staring at him for a moment before he pulled the collar of the jacket down and all Jack could do was look up to avoid seeing the concerned look on Steve’s face. He let Steve unzip the jacket and pull it from his shoulders, getting a closer look. Even the gentle grazes of Steve’s fingers over the bruises on his neck had him flinching, less from actually feeling any pain and more from expecting it. What the hell had Brock done to him? And to think, for a few delusional hours, he thought he was lucky to have that man.
“What happened to you?” Steve asked but Jack didn’t answer, responding by shrugging the jacket back over his shoulders and forcing himself to stand despite how much his body protested. “Did someone try to kill you?”
For a single, cursory moment, Jack paused while his brain took time to do a hard reset. The suggestion felt so ridiculous that he wasn’t sure what else to do but play along with it. So he shrugged and watched as Steve shook his head in disbelief.
“Did you file a report?” He asked and Jack released a bitter laugh.
“What? Hell no.” He snorted. He knew that Steve’s mind was somewhere else entirely but he couldn’t help imagining what it would be like trying to file a report against Brock. He’d be killed, likely. Pierce already hated their relationship, said it was a “conflict of interest.” Jack thought it was asinine at first but now he was beginning to think Pierce, slimy bastard that he was, was right.
“You need to, this is important!” Steve demanded. Jack wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to react and instead just shrugged it off with a quiet ‘s’ fine.’ only to earn himself a frustrated sigh from Steve.
“It’s not fine, it’s dangerous! You know what we do, it’s...our line of work isn’t exactly a forgiving one.” Steve huffed. ‘Tell me about it,’ Jack’s thoughts chimed as he shook his head, staring at Steve with a tired look.
“I gotta get back to work. STRIKE team ships out in three days, be ready.” His voice was monotonous and bland as he turned to head back toward the locker rooms. That’s when Steve grabbed his arm and a rush of adrenaline tore through his body with the force of a fire hose as he turned to throw a punch that Steve quickly dodged, releasing him in the process. Jack didn’t know when he started trembling but now that he noticed, he couldn’t calm his nerves. The sad look that Steve gave him did nothing more than ignite an angry fire within him and suddenly, he was overwhelmed with the feeling that he wanted to fight again.
“You don’t have to do this alone, I can help you.” Steve offered, taking a step forward and offering a gentle hand, only to have Jack grab hold of his wrist with an unnecessarily intense grip.
“Ever stop to think I don’t need your fuckin’ help, Rogers?” Jack growled. “Ever stop to think I might just need your head outta’ my ass?”
With a grimace, Jack shoved Steve back and turned without a second thought, zipping his jacket up as he retreated to lick at the wounds rubbed raw by Steve’s pity.
***
Going through a week long mission with Steve, while simultaneously trying to hide the bruises Brock gave him, had been absolute hell. So it was understandable that all Jack wanted to do when he got home was sleep. Unfortunately for him, all Brock wanted to do was fuck.
“I’m serious, no.” Jack growled, pushing Brock’s hand from his hip only for that same imposing hand to latch right back on.
“Oh, c’mon, Jackie, I need you inside me.” Brock purred, licking at Jack’s throat. By then, the bruises had become a sickly yellow and were faint enough for Jack to stop wearing hoodies and jackets to hide them. The rest of his body healed accordingly and things could go back to being relatively normal, something Jack wasn’t sure if he wanted. Because Brock made him hate normal.
“I said I don’t want to.” Jack said more firmly this time, finally managing to shove Brock back on his haunches. Pushing himself up on his elbows, Jack held Brock’s glare before his commander finally scoffed and stood up from their bed with a huff.
“You know, you seriously make me wanna fuckin’ hit you sometimes.” Brock growled as he left the room, undoubtedly planning to sleep on the couch. He always slept on the couch when he was sick of looking at Jack, when seeing Jack made him angry. He knew this, he knew Brock got mad when he said no, knew that Brock didn’t like it when he refused anything, especially sex, and knew that Brock wanted to hurt him because of it. But Brock had never actually said it aloud before. And for whatever reason, actually hearing it was unsettling.
He didn’t sleep well that night and when he woke up the next morning, he found that Brock had seemingly dropped the entire thing. He was bad about that, about ignoring any sort of argument they had, but Jack didn’t really have any other choice but to deal with it.
Over time, Brock got worse. Just as he always had. After a while his threats stopped being threats and he stopped warning Jack all together. Sometimes Jack could anticipate it but most of the time, it felt entirely random. Brock would smack him in the back of his head, shove him around, punch him, even, if he was in a particularly bad mood. And Jack was at a loss.
There was a war waged in Jack’s mind, his emotions tumbling between hating Brock and adoring him. Brock was a terrible man; he was violent and volatile and fear had become a familiar friend to Jack in the months that had passed since the choke chain incident. But every few days, he would be gentle and kind and he’d make Jack feel like nothing short of a god. And for those few, fleeting hours, Jack was on cloud nine.
But the good times never seem to last and eventually he was sick of making up excuses to stay.
“Come on, Jack, yer gonna leave over that? Over a love tap?” Brock growled as he followed Jack through their home.
“Does it matter?” Jack grumbled, shoving some of his clothes into an old backpack. “I’m a grown man, I can leave if I want to.”
This response, however, wasn’t good enough. Brock’s hand was almost instantly around his arm and Jack recoiled, throwing his elbow back and landing a hit across Brock’s mouth, effectively bloodying his lip.
“Sonuva-” Brock barked, staggering back when Jack landed another hit on his face. Spitting a mixture of blood and spit out onto the dark carpet, Brock wiped a hand across his chin before glaring at Jack, who was frozen. Multiple thoughts raced through his mind in that moment and somehow he was both proud of and angry with himself. But both of those were overshadowed by the terror that crashed through him like a startling rush of electricity when Brock advanced on him.
The two of them fumbled around for awhile, battering and bruising each other until eventually, Brock got his hands around the back of Jack’s head pulled, bringing his knee up to collide with Jack’s nose.
A sickening crunch filled the air and the two of them paused as Jack covered his face, panting while he tried to gather himself. Sitting down on their bed, leaving a bloody handprint on their white comforter, Jack tried to sniff but he couldn’t. Blood dripped down his mouth the same way it had months prior when Brock had pulled him off of the couch and all he could do was wonder to himself why he was stupid enough to stay so long.
“Let’s go.” Brock growled under his breath, taking hold of Jack’s bicep and forcing him to stand like he was a child. Jack shrugged him off, even going so far as to shove him away, before the two of them trudged out to their car.
The ride to the hospital was silent and when they got there, Jack refused to explain how it happened. It wasn’t that he was trying to protect Brock, he was just so exhausted… He didn’t have the energy to make up excuses or answer any questions.
Luckily, it only took fifteen minutes for a doctor to be made available for him. Unluckily, Brock followed him back into the room. And as if his broken nose wasn’t punishment enough, Brock continued to berate him.
“You jus’ dunno when to quit do you?” Brock growled, his arms crossed over his chest. His lip was swollen, the gash that ran through it shining angry and red. Drops of blood stained the collar of his grey shirt and in that moment the two of them stared at each other with equally intense looks of pure hatred.
“What?” Jack snapped, trying desperately to convince himself that Brock wasn’t worth a trip to prison.
“You don’t know how to fuckin’ quit, Jack! You always do this! You piss me off, then gimme that pissy little look when I get mad! This shit wouldn’t happen if you didn’t get me so fucking riled up!” Brock barked and all Jack could do was laugh incredulously, disbelief filling him as he stared Brock in the eye.
“No, this shit wouldn’t happen if you weren’t such a fucking psychopath.” Jack hissed and just like that, Brock was on him again. First, there was a knee to his ribs, then a fist under his jaw, but Jack wasn’t going to lay down and let Brock beat on him anymore. He’d finally decided that everything Brock did to him was complete and utter bullshit. It wasn’t warranted and he wasn’t ungrateful when he got upset about it. And for the love of God, he didn’t fucking deserve it.
So he fought back. He kicked and he growled and he fought with everything he had. Landed a few good hits too. At some point, the doctor must’ve come in to the two of them fighting and called security. They pried Brock off of Jack, his eye swollen shut and his lip re-busted-open. Jack grimaced, wanting nothing more than to pounce on him while he was restrained. But the security guards were too quick to get him out of the room.
The doctor didn’t ask Jack any questions, simply got him cleaned up, reset his nose, and offered him a phone to call someone. Jack accepted the offer with a grateful, albeit quiet, ‘thank you.’ And he sat for an hour contemplating whether or not he should do what he wanted to do. He didn’t really have much of a choice, though, did he?
“Hello?” Answered Steve’s familiar voice over the other line.
“If I ask you to come pick me up from the hospital will you promise not to ask questions?” Jack asked. He never was good at easing into a conversation.
“The hospital? What happened? Are you hurt?” Steve immediately started and all Jack could do was sigh and weigh what options he would have if he decided to hang up.
“Steve, please.” He begged quietly. He wasn’t proud of the pleading tone in his voice but he couldn’t take it back. Couldn’t hide it. Not anymore.
Steve didn’t say anything for a long time. The quiet that fell over them was the kind that was deafening and suffocating at the same time and he wanted nothing more than to scream just to fill the space. But before he could, Steve started talking again.
“I’ll be there.” He said softly.
And he was. In twenty minutes, Steve was at the hospital and the second he saw Jack, it looked like his entire world had been crushed. An odd look of knowing crossed his face as he flicked his head and without a second thought, Jack followed.
After another wordless car ride, Jack found himself in a new place. The unfamiliar space of Steve’s apartment left him feeling vulnerable and exposed, like a rabbit in a field of rabid dogs. But Steve’s gentle hand guided him and it sickened him that his mind was already waiting for that softness to be replaced with anger and pain. But nothing happened and Jack scolded himself for thinking something would.
They sat on the couch with the same silence that had hovered over them on the phone weighing tension on their shoulders and Jack once again felt the urge to make noise so it wouldn’t feel so heavy on his chest. But just as before, Steve came to the rescue to fill the silence before Jack had to.
“I guess this is how Bucky always felt when he saw me all beat up.” Steve tried to chuckle and Jack couldn’t help the little snort that left him.
“Guess so.” Jack grunted in response, sighing as he refused to meet Steve’s eye. It was then that an arm slowly wrapped around him and with cautious curiosity, Jack let it happen, willing himself not to flinch. He half expected other advances to be made but nothing ever came, and he liked it that way.
Steve turned the T.V. on and for a while, Jack zoned out while late night sitcoms flashed on screen with mediocre, cheesy jokes filling the quiet with a comfortable drone. And eventually, as Jack grew too tired to ignore the exhaustion any longer, he rested his head on Steve’s shoulder and found a relieving sense of peace when Steve leaned on him too.
And for the first time since he’d met Brock fucking Rumlow, he felt safe.
#mcu#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#whump#whump prompt#fic sequel#dark fic#hydra trash party#tw: abuse#tw: toxic relationship#jack rollins#brock rumlow#crossbones#hydra husbands#rumrollins#beaufic
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Prompt: “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”
Prompt requested by @psychicbouquetblaze-stuff (sorry I’m retagging you for the same story but the ‘keep reading’ link no longer worked so I thought it would be best to repost. I’ve also edited it a bit because it needed doing).
Prompts are open. I’ve got a few lists to choose from in the ‘Prompts’ section of my blog or feel free to send me an ask or a message if there’s a specific one you’d like ^_^
Dean/Castiel
Prompt #5 from this list: “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”
Castiel flashed his badge and a smile to the janitor as he opened his front door.
“Mr Faukes? FBI Agent Moore, and this is my partner, Agent Mathers. We were hoping to ask you a few questions about the incident you reported last night.”
Dean held up his own badge with a faint tightening of his eyes at the alias. It had been one of Cas’ spare sets of badges in the glove compartment of the continental, Sam had taken the impala to the next town over, where a possibly related case had also popped up. Dean hadn’t been happy about it, but he had conceded that point that seeing as he had a fully powered angel with him, it was best Sam take the vast majority of their weapons, just in case.
Faukes, after throwing a cursory glance at Dean, looked back to Castiel with a shy smile of his own. He was a tall man, late 30s, with strong arms and rugged features. His clothes looked to be a patchwork of different autumn-coloured fabrics but they blended together well and looked soft and comfortable. His light brown hair was neatly combed and he had kind brown eyes that Castiel found himself trusting.
“Sure thing,” he said, stepping back to let them in with the slightly awkward movements of someone who didn’t get a lot of visitors. His voice had a gravelly tone to it that matched the slight German accent. Castiel liked the sound. They walked past him into the small apartment. It smelled pleasantly of lemongrass and was sparsely decorated with an overflowing bookshelf, a sofa squashed beside it and a rickety desk that looked more like storage space than a place of work. A kitchenette was in one corner with a square table and a single chair for meals. The dish rack next to the sink was stuffed with crockery and there was a small sewing machine on another table, along with a couple of rolls of fabric leaning against the wall. A small electric heater clunked slightly as it fought against the morning chill. It was a messy home but meticulously clean. Faukes gestured them to the sofa and spun the dining chair around to face it before sitting himself on the plush cushion tied to the slats with ribbon, “And you can call me Matt. What do you need to know?”
“Your report said you found a jar of eyes in your boss’ office?” Dean cut in as Castiel opened his mouth. His tone was sharp, accusatory, as though Matt was their prime suspect when in reality he was just a witness. Matt looked a little unsettled at the heavy scowl Dean was levelling his way and Castiel couldn’t blame him, he shot Dean a look to take it easy, which was ignored.
“Um… yeah,” Matt said, dragging his eyes from Dean back to Castiel, who nodded encouragingly. Matt cleared his throat, fiddling with a stray thread on the hem of his shirt and began to speak, “So, I was cleaning up after we closed and I noticed the door to Mr Hitching’s office was open. I thought it was strange because even when he’s in he keeps it shut, and he’s supposed to be on holiday for the next two weeks. I figured his one of the other owners might have needed some papers or something and called up his secretary to come and fetch them so I thought I might as well just pop in to vacuum and empty the trash. But I saw it as soon as I turned the light on. It was just… sat on the desk. Like a paperweight, like it wasn’t something important enough to even hide. Five eyes. I remember thinking how weird that was, why five? That’s not even three people… That’s horrible, right? I shouldn’t have thought that.”
“Not at all.” Castiel assured him, leaning forwards intently, “When faced with trauma, the human brain—if it doesn’t reject the trauma entirely—might try to focus on certain details to distract from the trauma itself. You’d be surprised at some of the things people notice when faced with things of this nature. Sometimes their observations are vital to solving the case.”
Matt smiled again, smaller this time, but grateful. It was nice, Castiel decided, making this man smile.
“I bet you’ve got a load of stories like this, huh?” Matt said, shifting forward slightly too, sounding awed and impressed at the idea, “Job like yours. God, I couldn’t do it.”
“Well, we can’t all be janitors.” Dean muttered. The comment was innocuous enough, and Castiel would have ignored it if it hadn’t been for Dean’s tone, practically dripping with venom. Matt’s face immediately fell and Castiel shifted on the couch to glare his ‘partner’.
“Agent Mathers, that was incredibly rude. I think you owe Mr Faukes an apology.”
Dean flushed, an angry red tinge creeping up the back of his neck. He stared at Castiel and the angel saw a kaleidoscope of emotions flash across his face, too fast to catch any of them, but after a moment he relented and turned back to Matt.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, “my partner’s right. I was out of line.”
“It’s alright,” Matt said, looking more confused than offended now, “but thank you.”
Castiel took over the questioning from there, gently prying for all the details Matt could remember. Castiel found himself intrigued by the man, it was clear he was very self-conscious, about his job, his home, himself, but there was also a confidence to him born of self-reliance that Castiel couldn’t help but respect. He also seemed grateful to talk. From what he told them, he didn’t have many friends in the community.
“It’s a small town,” he said, when Castiel asked him why that was, “around here, everyone knows everything about everyone, and they’re pretty quick to judge. Most of them are heavy church-goers. And not the kind that preach love and acceptance, if you get my meaning.”
“That must be difficult.”
Matt shrugged, “It is what it is,” he said, his head tilting slightly to the side as he met Castiel’s eyes, “but it’s nice to talk to some folks with a different mindset for a change.”
Castiel nodded, trying his best to ignore the click of Dean’s jaw and the tension oozing from the seat next to him, “I understand,” he said, “I too find it difficult to ‘branch out’ when it comes to socialising.”
That was an understatement. Excluding other angels, who were less likely to want to catch up than they were to want to bury an angel blade in his chest, most the social interaction Castiel had experienced was through the Winchesters. Sam and Dean were the best men he knew, and their chosen family was a good one, but that didn’t stop Castiel from thinking that it might be nice to have people to talk to without the weight of world-shattering consequences as a constant looming presence in every conversation.
“Anyway, thank you for your time,” he continued, standing and indicating that Dean should follow suit, “you’ve been very helpful.” He produced a card and handed it to Matt while Dean made a beeline for the door. “Here’s my number. If you remember something else, or if you just need to talk to someone with a different mindset, don’t hesitate to call.”
“Oh, I’ll definitely call.” Matt said with a wink. “Agent Moore, would it be terribly inappropriate if I were to ask you on a date?”
Dean froze, his hand on the doorknob.
“I- it would,” Castiel stuttered, heat rushing to his face, “but I think I would like that. Perhaps once this case is over?”
“Keep me updated.” Matt grinned.
Dean yanked open the door and strode off down the hall, not even waiting for Castiel to catch up. The angel rolled his eyes and glanced at Matt, who snickered and held up his card.
“Good luck with the case.”
Xxx
“I can’t believe you, Cas. First of all, you made me a rapper, what the hell? Second of all, how do you go into a freaking suspect’s house and come out with a date?”
“Nothing’s been arranged,” Castiel said calmly, watching from the end of one of the twin beds as Dean wore a path in the already threadbare carpet of their motel room, “besides, Matt isn’t a suspect, he’s a witness.”
“Until we can prove he’s not the one carving out eyes, he’s both.” Dean insisted. “I just… I don’t get it, man, I thought you liked chicks anyway?”
“I’m indifferent to gender.” Castiel said, frowning. “I’ve never understood why it matters so much to humans what pronouns their partners use. I liked him. He was interesting and kind and I would like to get to know him better, what’s wrong with that?”
“We’re in the middle of a case, Cas, you can’t afford to get… you know, distracted.”
Castiel raised an eyebrow, “and how many bartenders and waitresses and almost-victims have you gotten ‘distracted’ with, Dean?”
“That’s different!”
“How?” Castiel demanded, truly irritated now. Dean had many wonderful traits that Castiel admired but his hypocrisy was not one of them. He supposed it stemmed from being the older sibling, more often left in charge than not, ‘do as I say, not as I do’ was practically etched into his bones.
“Because...” Dean spluttered, “because they’re just a bit of fun, alright? They knew the drill, we’re not exactly planning to settle down, and were never go out on dates.” He spat the word like something filthy, “What kind of future do you expect you can have with this guy, huh? Are you gonna tell him what we do? Bring him home and introduce him to your half-archangel son and all the people we yanked from another world? The guy was squeamish about a jar of eyes, how do you think he’d handle literally any of the crap we go through?”
“A first date is not a marriage proposal, Dean. What’s the harm in dinner and a movie?”
“You don’t eat.”
“I can, I just don’t need to.” Castiel shot back, “Random sexual conquests don’t appeal to me. I would rather find a person I have a connection with, and I felt I had a connection with Matt. Why are you so angry? The last time I had a date you were happy for me. Is it really because he’s a man?”
“No!” Dean yelled, a little too loudly, he winced as the sound bounced back to him from the cheap cinderblock walls and lowered his voice to a hiss, his arms folded tightly across his chest and he finally stopped pacing, “It’s because I think you’re being irresponsible. We don’t know that we’re not gonna have to gut that guy before the week is out. And what are you talking about a connection? You spoke for half an hour, you don’t build a connection in half an hour.”
“You’re not angry-” Castiel realised, squinting at the man in front of him. His hands were tucked up into his armpits and his shoulders were slightly rounded, almost as though he was trying to curl into himself, “you’re hurt. Wait a minute, are you jealous?”
“What?!” Dean exclaimed, “Jealous? No, I’m not jealous. Of what? I didn’t like that guy.”
Castiel tilted his head, “Then what?” he asked, his voice low and even, “You don’t like that I like him? You don’t like that I could possibly show interest in anyone other than you?”
Dean took a step back like Castiel had hit him. All the blood drained from his face.
“What are you talking about?” He said, which is what Dean always said when confronted with something he didn’t want to admit to.
“Come on, Dean,” Castiel said impatiently, “you’re not stupid and subtlety isn’t my strong suit. You know how I feel about you, you’ve known it for years. So you don’t want it but you don’t want anyone else to want it either?”
“That’s… that’s not-” Dean choked out, looking sick now, “I didn’t mean-”
“Then what?” Castiel cried, finally standing to be on even ground with Dean. He was frustrated, he was angry, he was overwhelmed, “Explain it to me, because I don’t understand.”
Instead of speaking, Dean’s jaw snapped shut and for a moment, Castiel was sure he was going to bolt from the room. Instead he strode forward two steps and cupped Castiel’s face with his hands before bringing their lips together, effectively shorting out his brain.
“I’ve always wanted you.” Dean murmured against his mouth, “Since Purgatory I’ve let myself want you. But if I had you, I could lose you. And I’m not strong enough to lose you.”
They stayed that way for a while, breathing each other’s air, foreheads pressed together, lips barely brushing. Dean’s hands were warm and calloused and gentle against his skin, Castiel’s hands gripped at the fabric of Dean’s shirt, though he didn’t remember moving.
“It’s worth it for this,” Castiel whispered back, half-lost in the feeling of Dean so close, “isn’t it?”
“Losing you sucked bad, Cas.” Dean said shaking his head and pulling back slightly, just enough that they could lock eyes, “I gave up.”
Castiel sighed and pulled away completely, stepping back, feeling cold as Dean’s hands left him. “I understand,” he said, “but I disagree. Neither of us can guarantee forever and it’s not fair for you to try and keep me from seeking elsewhere something that you aren’t willing to give me.”
“I know,” Dean said, but he reached out to take his hand and slot their fingers together, “So this is me realising that I’m willing, I guess.”
Castiel squeezed his hand and quirked a small smile, “Finally.”
#prompt#repost#Destiel fanfic#spn fanfic#destiel#dean winchester#castiel#prompt me#writing#TibbinsWrites#TibbinsAnswers#supernatural
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bound - 7 (take 2)
Pairing: Klaus x OC
Warnings: none
A/N: Have this boring photo free post because dumblr flagged my one with the header. Idiots.
***
Several hours passed before we heard from Rebekah. She sent Elijah a text that said Elena and company knew nothing. They were only digging for information.
“Do you believe that?” I asked before I could think better of it.
“Are you suggesting Rebekah would lie to us?” Nik’s voice held an edge I didn’t care for.
“Careful, Niklaus,” Elijah said, his gaze darting between the two of us.
“I’m not suggesting anything, Nik.” I arched a brow as I took him in. “I don’t know her well enough to know if she would lie or not. I do know Elena however and I find it unlikely her and Damon would expose their play unless they were ready to act.”
He closed the distance between us. “My sister swore a vow. She would not betray me. You may think you know everything about our family but you do not. So kindly refrain from commenting on things of which you are no part.”
“Niklaus,” Elijah snapped, but it was too late. The damage was done.
I turned to the elder Original. “If you insist on trying to keep him from self-sabotaging, you face an eternity of disappointment, Elijah.”
I moved to leave the room and Nik’s hand on my arm stopped me. “Where are you going?”
“To visit my uncle. Is there a problem with that?”
He looked as if he wanted to argue but decided against it. “Then I will take you. I don’t like you out alone.”
I brushed his hand away. “I think I’ve got it covered. Besides you should save your worry for those that actually are a part of your family.”
***
I was more frustrated with Nik than I was angry. By now, I was more than used to him saying the wrong thing usually at precisely the wrong time. A couple of hours with Elijah bitching at him for his thoughtlessness should be sufficient punishment. The thought was enough to have me feeling better as I knocked on Ric’s door.
“Come in,” he called.
“I hope you aren’t making a habit of blindly inviting people into your home, Ric. You should no better than that,” I said as I walked in and shut the door behind me.
“Cassidy!” He grinned then glanced around his apartment at the photos scattered on every available surface. “Just…uh…give me a minute,” he stuttered and started to sweep the photos into a hasty pile.
Taking a step to the nearest surface, I grabbed one and looked it over. A white symbol scratched onto a dark wall. It must be the language from the cave Nik mentioned. “You don’t have to hide this, you know. I already know about the cave.”
“The cave?”
I smiled and took a seat on the couch. “You would think that you might have reached out to the person that’s studied ancient cultures, but whatever.”
Ric sighed and sat beside me, resting his hand on my knee. “Yeah, well, I suggested that. It seems as though Elena and Damon don’t trust you.”
“I’m getting a little fed up with the two of them if I’m honest.”
“Elena’s just a kid.”
“Maybe someone should remind Damon of that fact,” I suggested.
“Come on, Cass. Damon’s not that bad. He’s just a little—”
I cut him off. “Didn’t he kill you not too long ago?”
Ric made a sound of agreement but didn’t say anything else.
“Listen, can I crash on your couch tonight?” I asked after a moment.
It was obvious he wanted to dig deeper but he was a good man. “Actually, you can have the bed. I’m staying with Jenna.”
***
I spent the next day lazing around Ric’s apartment and watching bad sci fi movies in between texting the Mikaelson brothers. I was ready to go home but I was holding out for an apology. He’d been close but hadn’t cracked yet. I just had to be patient.
When my phone dinged again, I picked it up with a smile which fell quickly when I saw the message was from Rebekah. I want to talk to you. Could you come to Stefan’s.
I sat up with a frown. There was no question. I didn’t trust Rebekah. Not in the least. But it was important to Nik that we get along so I supposed I could at least make an effort. I told her I’d be right there then shot a message to Elijah to tell him what was going on. The phone immediately rang.
“Rebekah requested to meet with you?” Elijah’s smooth voice said when I answered.
“That she did.”
“Did she say why?”
“No. I’m hoping Stefan managed to convince her that I’m not that bad. I guess we’ll find out.”
“Be careful, Cassie. As much as I love my sister, it would be remiss of me not to be aware of her more possessive tendencies when it comes to her family.”
“Well, that’s just lovely, Elijah. I’ll keep it in mind.”
***
Elena was the one to answer the door. “Cassidy!” She threw her arms around me. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
My hug was a little more restrained. “It’s good to see you, too. Is Rebekah here?”
“Oh, yeah.” She pulled away. “She’s waiting for you in Stefan’s room.”
I kept my gaze on her as I made my way up the stairs. She was acting oddly too. What was going on?
I paused in the doorway of Stefan’s room as my gaze fell on Rebekah. She was dressed in a sleeveless red dress with her hair hanging loose to her shoulders. “Hello, Rebekah. You look great.”
She met my gaze in the mirror and smiled. “Thank you, Cassidy. Stefan said you were sweet.”
“I have my moments.” I glanced around. “Where is Stefan?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Running an errand.”
Well, that was vague. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”
She turned to face me and licked her lips. “I want to ask you a question and I’d appreciate it if you were honest with me.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Do you know what happened to my mother?”
That surprised me. “Yes. Do you?” As far as I knew, she still believed Mikael had killed Esther.
“Did Niklaus kill my mother?”
By the way she asked the question I could tell she already knew the answer. I sighed. “Of course, he did Rebekah.”
That got her to her feet. She stopped inches from me. “What do you mean, of course?”
“Your mother was the only source of parental love Nik had. Though, it was tenuous at best. She let Mikael abuse him and belittle him and did nothing to intervene.”
Moisture pooled in her eyes. “What did you expect her to do? She was terrified of my father.”
“She was a witch, Rebekah. If she was strong enough to turn you all into vampires, she was strong enough to stop your father. She chose him over her son.” I was yelling by that point but I didn’t care. “And instead of facing the consequences for her infidelity, she forced that burden on him as well by binding his werewolf side and turning her back on him. Of course, he ripped her heart out. She deserved it.”
My head snapped to the side as Rebekah slapped me. Thankfully, she held back or she very well might have broken something. As it was, I’d be bruised tomorrow. “You, bitch,” she snarled.
Before I could retaliate, Elena stepped into the room and I watched in fascinated horror as she daggered Rebekah in the back. The blonde reached out for me, but I could do little more than catch her to keep her from hitting the floor. I lowered her gently to the ground before turning my full attention to my cousin.
“What the hell are you thinking, Elena?”
“I’m sorry, Cassidy but we can’t let her interfere. She might warn him.”
A chill went up my spine as Damon walked into the room. My gaze moved between the two of them. “Warn who?”
Damon shrugged as he gave me a smirk. “Don’t worry about it, Grimes. Everything will be over before you know it. We just need to borrow you to seal the trap.”
“I’m not doing shit for you, Salvatore.”
He dropped a hand on my shoulder. “I guess it’s a good thing you don’t have your powers anymore then, isn’t it?”
***
I am retagging everyone in this post as well as I don’t know when the other one will be visible. Sorry if you get notifs for both.
Bound: @deadmanwalked @the-doctor-9-10 @kawaiirepublic @xlosttdreamss @tkdgirl2012 @cacti-succulents-andlesbians @killerheelsanddullknives @readeity @kayla-03-blog @star-incandescent @bookwormstrawberry
All the Things: @swanky-batman @rissyrapp20 @startrekkingaroundasgard @spooookyscary @taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rules:
post the rules
Answer the questions given to you by the tagger
Write 11 questions of your own
Tag 11 people
I was tagged by @dewitty1, but she tagged my main blog. ((I only have like 25 followers over there and most of you don’t know me by that blog, so I hope it’s okay I’m answering on this one))
1. How often do you read “real books” over fanfiction? I read a lot actually. I go through phases. Sometimes I read more ff, but last month I read six books and at least started 3 more.
2. Should dogs be higher in the ratings scale than cats? Try to convince me. No, they shouldn’t. Both are precious and wonderful and serve different companionship needs for different people.
3. What is your worst habit? being mean to myself
4. Would you change the Hogwarts house colors or keep them the same & why? I wish they had kept the bronze in Ravenclaw for the movies...the merchandise I buy is sometimes blue and silver sometimes blue and bronze. I’d just like consistency
5. Did you take the Pottermore quiz & do you think it was accurate? oh, yeah. I’m Ravenclaw af...and that’s what the quiz gave me
6. Do you believe astrology is fairly accurate, or is it just nonsense, and the stars have no bearing on your emotions/personality? I give it the same value as I give any other form of entertainment I enjoy. My astrological stuff is often very accurate, but you can find bits of truth anywhere if you look hard enough. I enjoy it, so I like to see it positively. It’s like your Hogwarts house. You’re not going to have every single trait of that house, and you’re likely to have traits from other houses, but if you like it enough, you’ll just roll with it.
7. What magical theory that is never explained in the Harry Potter books would you like to explore more fully? literally everything
8. What do you do to get yourself out of a funk/depression? ugh, nothing...just wait, I guess. It’s something I struggle with. I spend a lot of time putting on a happy face for someone who stays sad and lonely all the time.
9. If money were no object, what would you do with your life? I’d be an author/illustrator or a chef
10. Was Harry really oblivious as they say, or was he actually observant when he needed to be? I think he may have had a hard time interpreting certain emotional aspects due to his crappy upbringing, but I think he was aware of situations and circumstances more so than fandom gives him credit for
11. Do you enjoy doing these quizzes, or are they as difficult for you as they are for me? lol… Answering them is easy and I enjoy them, but coming up with questions???this particular quiz is more difficult for me. I worry my questions will suck
Ok, so my new questions for the people I’m tagging:
1. Is there a pairing you hated but now are okay with, or even enjoy?
2. If you could choose the meal served in the Great Hall on your birthday (or other special day if you have a summer birthday) what would you like to have served?
3. You’re going to Hogwarts!! Which five non-school required items are you taking with you?
4. What was the last published book you read?
5. Would you rather have a time-turner, an invisibility cloak, or a pensieve?
6. What was the last song you listened to?
7. Ignoring canon, as one does, what occupations do Harry and Draco have as adults?
8. What other fandoms are you in?
9. Last thing you ate; have you had a glass of water today?
10. Is your favorite color *in general* the same as your favorite color *to wear*?
11. Choose and answer one (1) question from the previous set.
@unicornsandphoenix @synonym-for-life @maqicool @gnarf @drarry-with-a-side-of-harry @assassinsdragons @harryanddracoarehusbands @aelys-althea @gcjh2002 @lower-east-side @chapter11freak ((and as always, no pressure if you’ve been tagged, sorry for any retags, and if you want to do this and haven’t been tagged you can say I tagged you))
8 notes
·
View notes