#Perfect opportunity for me to solidify the way I draw their eyes!

[vengefultakeover]

Daemon: Leftover (1)

NOTE: This is the newest edited version of this story

The spiked disco ball reflected thick beams of light throughout the interior of that cavern and all of the daemons residing inside of the bodies of the island goers were cast out and turned into dust. The light penetrated them and their deathly allergy caused them to combust after the bodies expelled them. The thing about human skin is that it is a wonderful sunblock for the creatures.

The leftover daemons, the ones lucky enough to dodge the beams reflected into the cave, were abandoning the island if they could. One creature stuck to the shadows, hitching a ride on the last boat off the island and hiding in the pipes to keep from being seen. The passengers unloaded and the daemon hid until the the ship was empty and the cover of night gave the perfect opportunity to stride towards Crystal Cove in search of a new host. With the Daemon Ritus in the hands of Mystery Incorporated, this ancient being needed to resort to using his own powers to remove the protoplasm and provide an empty husk.

"Hello?" I turned the corner with my evening cup of coffee and blood shot eyes. I had seen something duck behind a dumpster, but its large skeletal-like form could never be completely covered by the trash container like a person hiding behind a telephone pole. The creature stood up and started taking large strides towards me, which of course made me spin on my heels and start sprinting. My foot got caught on something and I spilled my coffee as I rolled. I held out my hands, defending myself from the incoming attack.

"Wait! I can help you! Please don't hurt me!" My eyes shut tight and I could feel the daemon looming over me. I opened one eye first, looking up at the creature and then opened the other. I slowly stood up, hearing it breathe without looking away.

"Come with me." I waved it, urging it to follow, and every few steps I would turn back to find it sauntering along the same path I was taking. It would stay hidden, ducking behind different objects. Even though it was night, the streetlights still put it on edge. The fear dissipated from inside of me as it followed and the intrigue simmered until I could feel the warmth in my ears. It was hard to miss the new blasts about the events on the island, Scrappy, Mystery Incorporated, the daemons. Fred and his gang got a pretty good payoff for solving this mystery and the airtime really solidified their detective agency. Plus, who doesn't love a talking Great Dane?

A quick turn of my key and I was inviting the daemon inside my apartment. It ducked down pretty far, continuing to amaze me by its size. "Sorry for the low ceilings." I tossed my keys into the bowl by the door. I wasn't even sure if he knew what I was saying. It couldn't speak to me until it had a mouth to speak with.

I took out a sketchbook and started to draw from pictures, figures and items that might be needed to help it and then held it up. A symbol for water, another for the bathroom, and a figure of a guy with a little floating head next to it. I placed it in the claw so he it could communicate its needs. With one look, it pointed at the figure of the guy and then circled the protoplasm. It thudded over to the shelf and picked up a glass jar, handing it to me.

"Oh! To put the protoplasm!" The creature nodded. Good to know it could understand me. I felt bad watching it crunched under the ceiling. I turned to my phone and started texting a friend. I needed to return a book and even if he was a friend this would only temporary.

"Hey man, thanks for texting. I really needed this to finish this essay I'm writing and there's those chapters for class tomorrow. Practice just gets out so late." Dan had his hands in his pocket as I invited him inside and the creature was hidden away.

"Yeah, no worries, it's back here." I invited him down the hallway and into the back room where the creature was hiding. Dan followed blindly and I stepped out of the way as he entered the room. The creature had positioned itself behind the door and closed it once Dan and I cleared the threshold. I jumped back as it grabbed Dan's waist and pulled him up towards hi face with an unnatural strength. Dan was screaming, panicking in its grip before the daemon's green breath surrounded his body. Green smoky tendrils disappeared into his nose and he inhaled causing his eyes to roll back and his body to slump over. He placed him down on the bed and ripped off his shirt. Dan's body was lightly dusted with hair and his mouth hung open as though he was snoring. I stepped closer to watch what was happening, jar in hand and covered in dry paint.

The creature turned towards me, its eyes glowing green and it noticed I was enthralled. It took its elongated fingers and plunged them directly into Dan's chest. White and blue light surrounded the penetration and Dan's body writhed underneath the creature digging around inside his body for what would eventually be his protoplasm. Withdrawing its hand, the small head of my friend appeared and blinked in disbelief. He bobbed around for a moment, realizing he had no control over anything, and then panicked as I pushed the jar around him. I spun the lid on and covered it up on my night stand so he couldn't watch.

Turning my attention back to the creature, he crawled onto the bed and it creaked with each move. The daemon parted Dan's lips with one hand and with the other it brought its fingers together and started to push inside of him. Just as the creature's flesh hit his mouth, it started to turn into dust, flowing inside of him. It was the same dust that the creatures become when exposed to sunlight. Dan struggled beneath it as the creature adjusted to his body, and suddenly its feet lifted off the ground and disappeared inside. His mouth shut and he moved his lips around while it took over, limbs twitching and fingers curling. His eyes opened and glowed that beautiful green color I had seen earlier.

"Wow." I realized my vocabulary had been reduced to that one word and I was involuntarily stepping closer. I could feel the heat emanating from his body.

"Thank you." He said, standing up.

"You're welcome." I watched.

"You are not like other humans. Back on the island, even when we were told we had human allies, they were lying." He stared at me.

"I don't think you should have to suffer because you're different." I say.

"I'll remember that."

"Should I call you something other than Dan? Do you have a name?" I asked, my eyes glued to his form as he stood up. His skin was moving around as he got even more comfortable in his husk. As he stretched I just wanted to touch him.

"I like the idea of having a name." He started approaching me and pressed his hand against my crotch. I didn't realize how long I was hard for, the need for release was almost painful.

"You don't have one?" I whimpered.

"Never been given one. This body - can I keep it?"

"He should get his body back eventually, we can get you more bodies to inhabit." I stare into his eyes and then pull him into me. The idea of having this creature in this body forever was so tempting, but Dan was a nice guy. There were plenty of other assholes to hollow out.

"You care for this human even now." He squints.

"Yeah. But not like that." I realize we are incredibly close and he leans into my ear.

"I like Max." He grinds into me and kisses my neck.

"I like that." I say and suddenly our lips are pressed together. He is delicate at first, but then I feel the hard wall behind me and suddenly he is pushing into me with deep airy breaths. He takes off my clothes while we make out, pinning me to the wall with a pile of clothes forming at my feet. We spin and he's suddenly against the wall with his cock throbbing in front of him. His eyes follow me as I kiss his chest, pecking down towards his v-line, and finally landing on my knees as I swallow his cock.

His head falls against the wall and he opens his mouth to let out a small growl of pleasure. He grabs my head, forcing my mouth farther onto his cock and I want to smile as I feel the tip of his throbbing meat at the back of my throat. My hands hold onto him as he thrusts into my mouth and I can feel him starting to leak.

"This feels amazing." He moans, looking down at me with those piercing green eyes. With my tongue, I play with the tip before taking him all the way in again, choking as he moans above. His warm white juices fill my mouth and throat and I swallow as he convulses in pleasure against the wall. I look up at him with his cock still pulsing between my lips and he looks down at me. His fingers move through my hair as I pull off of him, picking myself up off the ground and letting him taste his load as we make out.

"How was that?" I asked, finally coming up for air.

"I want more." His eyes flashed green and I felt his cock harden again.

[sunnylolli]

Sorry if this is a weird request, but as an eyeball enthusiast I have to ask: what do you hc as far as FACE family's vision? Myopia v. hyperopia? Dioptres? (if that's not too specific) Central/sectoral heterochromia, eye freckles, iris patterns? Anyone with partial or full colour blindness? (since it's much more common in men)

This request has been sitting in my drafts for a bit because I wanted to sit down and illustrate it! I am not an eyeball enthusiast, so excuse my knowledge being limited but I do have headcanons about their eyes! Their prescriptions (Because I have given them all prescriptions) are based off of what I know from myself and friends with glasses and vibes, so feel free to correct them if they're totally nonsensical!

France

Francis' eyes are deep blue, but looks violet depending on the lighting.

He needs glasses but doesn't wear them, he's in denial because he doesn't like how they look on his face and he's scared of contact lenses. The idea of putting stuff in his eyes? He does not like that.

It's also the reason he's always holding that slight squint that people think is just him trying to look more mysterious than he is.

America

Alfred didn't always need glasses, but his vision began to worsen over time as a result largely stemming from prolonged exposure to harsh sunlight.

He has central heterochromia and a single eye freckle, and the reason I don't really see him having fully blue eyes is because I sort of see him being too diverse to just have pure blue eyes?

Canada

I see Matthew's eye color and eye variations to be a type of albinism and he has always needed glasses of a pretty high prescription!

Until glasses was available to him, I think he was hard pressed navigating the forest, but I think he'd like it when everything was covered in snow, because then if something turned up and moved that wasn't white, it was easier to spot? It's a love-hate relationship though, because the snow would literally blind him by how bright it is.

England

I haven't considered color blindness and a disclaimer that I haven't read into it, but I think if anyone would be color blind of any degree, it would be Arthur.

Arthur's eyes, compared to his brothers, are the least green of them all and I have had this headcanon for a very long time. If you look closely, his eyes are practically just as brown as they are green.

He uses reading glasses he bought at the drugstore and Francis borrows them at times in secret.

I hope you can use that for something! I use these headcanons subconsciously when I draw, if you look through my art of England you will notice that I've colored his eyes this way for a while!

[stormiclown]

Lila’s Reflection

After analyzing Lila’s behavior I realized that we aren’t given enough back story explaining why she is the way she is. For Chloe, we got her emotionally absent parents. It didn’t excuse her behavior but it did explain it. Secondly, Lila’s “tragic and sympathetic“ reason for hating Ladybug and joining Hawkmoth -a literal terrorist- was because she embarrassed her in front of a guy? This just solidify’s one of MLB’s themes that girls do nothing but fight over cute boys. So, instead of Volpina being caused by Ladybug only, The writers should have created other factors that build up over time that will eventually lead to her being akumatized. This will be a Lila sugar fic as well as lilanette featuring male Marinette because I stan Marion Dupain-Cheng. Enjoy!

Marion honestly knew he shouldn’t be eavesdropping. But on his way to the park, he spotted a familiar sight of brown sausage hair; Lila Rossi.

Normally, this wouldn’t be enough to draw the blunette’s attention. In fact, he had taken to ignoring and avoiding the Italian at all costs.

Ever since she transferred into Bustier’s class, she‘d done nothing but spread lies and deceive their classmates (Not friends. Not when they accused him of being a bully for trying to protect them from Lila’s deception).

No. What really drew his attention was the individual that was with her.

An exact replica of Lila Rossi.

The designer took in the scene that was unfolding before him. The girl, Lila’s apparent twin sister, had the same blunt cut bangs and narrow olive eyes as the sausage haired girl. Her light hunter colored princess chiffon ruffled off the shoulder dress stoped just above her knees, a golden pearled belt fastened to her waist. A fancy designer cross body purse hung carelessly on her shoulder. Instead of the atrocious triple ponytail style that Lila insisted on wearing, her sister’s brown hair was styled in a high ponytail with her side pieces being lined in place with expensive looking diamond hair clips.

All in all, she looked fabulous. As did her blonde haired and curly haired friends.

But Marion couldn’t shake the familiarity her face brought but her couldn’t put his finger on it.

He tuned into the conversation at hand. The bluenette thought he saw fear in Lila’s form. Real fear.

”Marion, don’t you remember the last time you eavesdropped on Lila? I don’t think this is a good idea…” Tikki, ever the moral guardian tried to deter the bluenette’s motives.

The addressed male turned to momentarily to look at the mini red goddess before speaking, “Look, Tikki, something about this whole situation just feels wrong. My Beetle senses are tingling. Trust me on this,” he stared at her earnestly.

Tikki sighed, “Alright”.

”Kwami knows Paris doesn’t need another Lila Rossi walking around,” he muttered quietly to himself so the red Kwami couldn’t hear him. God, he really needed another cup of coffee.

Lila did absolutely nothing to hide how dread filled her for the confrontation she knew was coming. The class became more incessant with their demands. She was used to seeing it only happening with Marion and Alya before they stepped down as class representative and deputy respectively.

Today especially had particularly been a bad day. First, Luisa Rossi, her mother, forgot to say goodbye to her on her way to school that morning as she had been too preoccupied with making sure Lea had the perfect send off for a filming shot. Hurt but unsurprised, Lila made her way too school on foot. The Italian long since realized that she was nothing but a shadow when compared to her famous older twin sister.

Second, the class had voted her in class president with Adrianne as her deputy. She tried to deny the honor, that she was too busy, but they wouldn’t hear it. All they could focus on were all the amazing opportunities, fabulous trips, and grand events that they could milk from Lila. It became even worse when Adrianne not so subtly shot her a glare while muttering an insult. The brunette had to shove the sting of their disregard for her feelings under her carefully crafted mask.

After all, she was the one who was lying to them.

”Fancy seeing you here, Lila. Your little cronies got bored of your lies?” came Lea Rossi’s mocking voice, her red lips curved into a predatory smirk. On either side of her both her friends laughed.

Lila flushed in humiliation and lifted her head to meet her sister’s gaze, so identical to her own, “What do you want Lea? Don’t you have movie you have to film?” Lila couldn’t stop sneering if she tried. She absolutely resented her sister, not because of her fame, but because she took away any semblance of happiness Lila had. Her parents love, all her friends, and any dream she ever had.

Lila always wanted to be an actress. She foolishly told her Lea, who was a model at the time, about her dream. Yet instead of encouraging her and cheering her on like a normal sibling, Lea went straight to Mrs Rossi about it and a week later, she was enrolled into an acting class, successfully ripping the sausage haired girl’s aspirations from her.

(She also ignored the heart break of the ponytailed brunette having such a fabulous life despite the cruelty she used to achieve it)

Lea, however, was unmoved by her sister’s red face and angry eyes, choosing again to use a voice full of faux adoration, “Aw, not happy to see your big sister? I thought you’d be happy about the new movie deal I landed. I’m doing this for you. It’s common knowledge that you wouldn’t have succeeded as a model or actress anyways. Be thankful you can live the life of luxury through me!” She finished with a tone of victorious triumph knowing she had hit a sensitive nerve after seeing Lila’s face.

”You ruin everything! Maybe I wouldn’t have to lie if I could have the spotlight for once!” the Italian girl retorted while balling her fists, though she sounded unsure of herself. Was the spotlight really what she wanted or was it something else entirely?

”What are you going to do about it?” Lea dropped ever pretense of faux sisterly affection, a dangerous look it her eyes told Lila that she was done playing games. It honestly scared her, “We both know how this goes. You’ll try to prove you’re better than me except that’s a lie. All you ever do is lie. It’s quite pathetic really. Despite being my sister you have to tell ridiculous lies just for people to consider you as a somebody. But you aren’t. The only reason you’ve lasted so long in that class full of losers is because they’re just using you for their own ends. The moment they find out how fake you are is the moment they’ll drop you like a worthless sack of potatoes. Just like everybody else,” she flicked Lila’s fake fox miraculous before mockingly blowing a kiss to Lila and leaving with her friends, who made snide remarks and egged Lea on the entire time.

”Ci vediamo dopo alligatore!” she called out to the Italian who looked ready to cry.

By this point, Marion had been recording the confrontation on his phone. The Red Beetle in him wanted to rush in and interrupt what ever he just witnessed. But the Marion in him, the isolated, discarded Marion couldn’t help but feel pleasure at watching Lila getting a taste of what it was like to feel worthless. His morality side, his largest side, felt sorry for her and immediate guilt began to form in his stomach in the shape of ice.

Just then, it clicked. Lea Rossi! She was a famous Italian model and currently an actress! No wonder everyone took what Lila said at face value; she was related to Lea Rossi. While he was unaware of how famous the twin truly was, when ever he researched Lila’s name nothing came up. The only way people in our class could tell of her relation with the Italian actress was her last name. And the footage he recorded could very well bring some negative attention to said Rossi.

Quickly saving the video on several clouds, he made a mental note to send them to Alya for her side blog: A Scoop of Paris. Basically a blog for any news unrelated to akuma battles and the heroes of Paris.

”With a family like that, it’s no wonder Lila ended up this way,” Tikki flew out of Marion’s miniature messenger bag. The Kwami shook her head, even after billions of years of existing, human beings treatment of their siblings still baffled her. Tikki, like Marion, had not been fond of the Italian, but now the kwami of creation just felt a little sorry for her. It didn’t excuse her behavior but it did explain it.

”Well it looks like Adrianne was right,” even though it caused him physical pain to admit it, the blonde had been correct for Lila’s reasons for lying. Despite the model’s suggestion that they extend an olive branch to her, Marion had heard the things Adrianne said about the Italian under her breath. Not to mention how she glared at the back of her head when ever she was the center of attention. The bluenette was seriously considering if he even knew the blonde at all.

”I’d prefer if you didn’t think about that right now. Why don’t you go check up on her?” Tikki said, reading his mind.

Marion hesitated. While Lila hadn’t explicitly mention that he was bullying her, she didn’t stop them when they assumed he, Alya, and Nino were mistreating her because they called her out on her lies either.

Focused on his conflicting feelings, Marion noticed Lila running away from where she had been previously standing. His eyes landed on an akuma flying high in the sky, heading for the same direction as Lila.

Without thinking, he took off after the Italian.

Running as fast as her legs could take her, Lila dodged all the ads portraying her sister’s face. Ads the should have her face.

She came to a halt in front of a massive fashion ad for a new collection the was about to drop.

With her sister modeling the clothes.

A model shoot that Lila had already booked.

She glared at the photo, the hatred and venom she had kept locked away finally came bubbling to the surface.

Why did Lea get everything when Lila had to struggle?

Why did Lila have to be eclipsed by her sister’s shadow?

For crying out loud, her classmates didn’t even know she was related to Lea. They just thought it was a coincidence that she had the same last name!

Hell, the media didn’t even know who she was until she became a Gabriel model. And even then, everybody thought that she was Lea! It was only through an interview that everybody learned about ‘the Lost Rossi Twin’.

She resented her parents. Her sister. Her classmates. Adrianne. And she just wanted it all to stop.

The akuma that had been observing Lila made a bee line for the Italian’s fox pendant.

After all, who could be a better candidate than a girl who feeds herself her own illusions?

Only, except of akumatizing her successfully, the butterfly’s efforts were intercepted when Marion arrived at the scene.

The blue haired male managed to catch up with Lila.

“Hey, Lila? A-are you….ok?” Marion asked dubiously when she saw the few tears and Lila’s angry face, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

The Italian in question, was not pleased to see Marion Dupain-Cheng. Even less so now that he had saw her crying.

Real crying, that is.

She whipped around to face the taller male, the motion causing her back loose ponytail to sway with the movement and furiously whipped away her very real tears.

She glared at the boy, but it didn’t have the intended affect on Marion. Her cheeks were puffy and her lip was trembling as she hissed, “What do you want, Maribrat?”

’Maribrat’ cringed at the painfully lame nickname before answering, “It’s just, I saw what happened….with your sister,” he made sure to breach the topic carefully as it was obviously something Lila was sensitive about.

Her eyes widened as she felt her pride shatter more than it already was. He saw that? Lila reddened in embarrassment. “So what? Your feeling high mighty now that you saw me get humiliated? Think I deserve it?” She snarled her accusations all while jabbing her finger roughly into Marion’s toned chest.

The designer didn’t flinch instead looking to the side, “Look, you may be a liar and for the longest time, I thought you enjoyed ruining friendships and treating people like servants. But now I can tell that it isn’t entirely true. You don’t have to lie just to feel better about yourself,” as soon as the words left his mouth, Marion immediately wished he could take them back when he saw Lila’s face.

The Italian wordlessly turned away, looked over her shoulder, and glared at him feeling more tears threatening to spill, “Just stay out of my way!” was what she said before running away again.

”I messed up, didn’t I, Tikki?” Marion asked the kwami tucked into his mini messenger bag.

“It’s Marion. I’m sure if you try to reach out to her, she’ll understand what you meant,” Tikki consoled her chosen.

He really hoped that was true. His emotions were warring with each other as he watched Lila’s back until she disappeared from his line of sight.

For most of the next day, Marion silently watched as his classmates constantly badgered Lila with idea, treats, and plans for their class. Something that Lila didn’t have the connections for.

Which was strange now that he thought of it. Lila was famous and everyone knew she was the illustrious twin sister of Lea Rossi. Why was it that she couldn’t fulfill her promises of the world? The Italian actor rubbed him the wrong way. Could she have something to do with Lila clearly being cut off from the world of celebrities?

“Well, don’t they look tired?” His train of thought was brought to a screeching halt when Alya spoke and Nino chuckled.

He turned to his best friends with a confused face, “Who looks tired?”

”It’s only been a week since you and Alya have been ousted as class representatives and yet Adrianne and Lila look just about ready to crash,” Nino pointed out. He and Alya stood by Marion when the class began hopping on his friend’s case about the sausage haired girl.

Looking at the front of the classroom where the blonde and brunette were jotting down idea and listening to the students, Marion could see the fatigue leaking out of Lila’s cheery facade like a faucet. Adrianne also looked like she had seen better days, though he, Alya, and Nino noticed the minuscule glares the model in question had sent the Italian each time someone mentioned an absurd idea they could do for the year.

Marion silently rolled his eyes. He didn’t know what Adrianne’s problem was. Wasn’t she the one who sweared up and down that Lila was just lonely and misunderstood. That her lies weren’t hurting anyone and that the high road was the best way to go?

It seemed the blonde had no problem following the high road nonsense when she wasn’t the one being directly affected.

What a hypocrite.

Sapphire eyes met narrow olive ones and Lila quickly turned away. They’ve been doing that for most of the day.

“I’m just glad it isn’t us for once,” Marion said and Alya huffed in agreement. He and the reporter went above and beyond for the class and nearly ran themselves ragged. All the planning, fund raising, hours of missed sleep, unhealthy amounts of caffeine, and event catering was what kept the class afloat. They had to juggle so much that Nino had to step in as an unofficial deputy because he was the only who ever helped them with anything.

Their chatter ceased when Lila daintily placed her clip board down on the teacher’s desk and beamed at the class, “Thank you everyone! You’re ideas were all amazing. I’ll strive to make sure these ideas become as fabulous as they sound!”

Bustier clapped her hands and Lila’s (false) enthusiasm and Adrianne struggled to keep the care free smile on her lips.

The class cheered and Alya and the others just shook their heads as the Italian continued to dig a grave for herself.

And that’s how things were for next few weeks. Lila and Adrianne’s exhaustion became very evident if the dark circles under their eyes were anything to go by.

Meanwhile said brunette was practically drowning in her workload. Usually, minted representatives attend a three month course where they learn to navigate through their role with little problems.

But with with all her lies, Bustier was certain that Lila could excel as class representative and thus, the red haired teacher cancelled the intermission without Lila’s consent!

And don’t even get her started with her moronic classmates. Every time she seemed close to getting anything simple, someone would swoop in and suggest that she do something more extravagant. With all her connections and experience with high ranking officials and celebrities it should be a walk in the park right?

Wrong. Despite being related to a celebrity, the sausage haired girl had no connections besides Gabriel Agreste and he firmly denied funding for any school events much to her and Adrianne’s horror. Lea Rossi made sure that Lila couldn’t climb over her on the social hour.

Her mood did not improve as she saw Marion and his friends practically glowing with the sleep they’d made up. And the blue haired male’s looks of pity made her want to scream. Now that their backs weren’t breaking from carrying the class, they actually got around to doing things for themselves.

Nino finally uploaded his first short film onto his new website, Turtle Studios, and a steady number of views began trickling in.

Alya managed to nail the internship that so many budding reporters have been fighting for and her fame as a reliable news source began to rise.

Marion released his new fashion line: animal themed clothes, jewelry, hats, and other accessories. Plus he reopened his commissions list and clients were currently battling for a spot. Jagged and Clara mentioned him as their designer and urged other celebrities to commission him as well.

Of course, the trio‘s success only caused more spite and jealousy towards them from the rest of Bustier’s students.

Lila had to resort to drinking large amounts of caffeine to push through her struggles. She had no idea how the designer, DJ, and reporter managed to deal with their ungrateful classmates, their own school work, and their other hobbies on top of it all.

She was just about ready to tear her hair out. Once again, they had proposed ridiculous ideas that they expected her to follow through on without offering any sort of help or assistance. Even the teacher was taking a back seat to the spectacle. Alix wanted a trip to a different country for a week for the spring break, Mylene and Sabrina wanted the school dance to be at an expensive luxury hotel in Versailles, and the others wanted their school events to be grand at such an unattainable level.

The stress and pressure became too much and Lila found herself ducking in solitary places around the school just to avoid anymore of her classmates demands and Bustier basically scolding her for being tired.

One day, she came across an empty room near the west wing of the school. Hardly anyone went there anymore and right then, the Italian needed the silence.

Except, it wasn’t empty. When the brunette strolled in, her eyes immediately landed on the three individuals occupying the center of the room.

”What are you guys doing here?” She pointed her finger at them and narrowed her eyes.

Nino gave her an unimpressed stare before answering, “This is we’re we go when we want to avoid the class’ drama, dudette.”

Lila‘s mouth hung agape and she couldn’t control the shocked whisper that spilled from her lips, “Were they really like this before I came?”

”Yeah girl, they are,” Alya nodded before gesturing to Lila’s person, “I mean it was always little things. How we could make a trip even better, or rescheduling an important event that took weeks to plan. They’ve always been selfish and demanding, but your arrival just magnified personalities that were already there. At first, it was just Marion and I who hid here during our free period when we needed to catch up on sleep or sooth migraines that built up from dealing the others. Then Nino joined us after he became another deputy for us,” and it was true. The three found solace in the nearly empty unused room that contained a few painting aisles from the art room, custom made bean bag chairs (Lila was sure Marion had made them), a fully functioning desk top from the library, and a few desks similar to the ones Bustier kept in her room.

Marion stepped away from where he was perched behind an aisle with a paint brush in hand and looked at Lila with apprehension, “That’s why I didn’t fight with you when they preferred you over us. You have released us. They’re your problem now. Now that we don’t have to cater their every demand, things have gotten a whole lot better; for us at least”.

Yeah, Lila had noticed. For every friend each of them lost, they gained another one. Adrianne had refused to even look at Marion when she begged him to pick up the slack and he refused, he received offers from fifteen different girls to be their date to the upcoming Spring Mingle. Turns out, the bluenette was a lot more popular than he thought.

The Italian was quick to deflect as she waved her arms about, “No! I don’t want them. It was only ever about making it to the top. They’re too…”

”Blood sucking gold diggers?” Alya provided with a roll of her eyes.

”Opinionated sychophants?” provided Marion as her entered the conversation.

”Physically and Emotionally taxing?” Nino saw the opportunity to add in his two cents.

”Utterly ridiculous?” Chloe stated, coming from literally no where. None questioned how she had found them.

”Bad friends,” Lila said simply amidst all of the other well thought out descriptions. They definitely agreed. The class’s behavior couldn’t be entirely blamed on Lila since it had been an issue even before she set foot in Paris.

“Totally adding that to the list of why our class absolutely sucks,” Nino flashed a grin at Marion, Alya, and Chloe who chuckled.

Lila allowed herself to smile a real smile. It was actually pleasant to look at, Marion thought.

“They really do suck”.

The teenagers in the room bursted into unending laughter.

They spent the rest of their free period in companionable atmosphere until it was time to head back to class. The bluenette pulled Lila away from the others to have a word with her in private.

The two of them stood in a near empty hallway near the back of the school.

”Look, about what happened a few weeks ago?” Marion started, this time determined not to screw up like last time.

”Ugh look I don’t need your pity! If this is about-“ the Italian geared up for a defensive rant before Marion cut her off.

”I’m not going to judge you, Lila, and you’re obviously going through tough times,” he took a breath before continuing, “If you need someone to talk to, I’m more than willing to lend an ear. The others will too, if you prove that you’re trust worthy,” sincere blue eyes looked at Lila with understanding. Something she hadn’t seen in a long time.

The brunette looked at the French Chinese boy with uncertainty. Did he really mean it? He had never been anything less than honest. She felt her cheeks redden with the intense way Marion‘s gaze glued onto her smaller form. ”I-I uh-,” she had no idea what to say. Thankfully she didn’t have to as the bluenette gently took the planer she had in hand with the ideas of a new field trip and other things for the year.

”I’ll help you with the planning and fundraising. Nino, Alya, and I were basically killing ourselves trying to keep up with everything. I don’t want that to happen to anyone else. Even if you did take the position.”

Lila’s eyes widened as she scrambled for an answer, “No! I didn’t want to take over. They just voted me in without my opinion” It actually sort of shocked the brunette how fast their (ex)friends could turn on someone just to suck up to Lila; a person whom they thought could give them a leg up in the world.

Marion sighed, Lila had noticed he did a lot of that recently, “How about a truce?” he propped the binder into one hand as he held out his empty one in front of the Italian, “We both know that the class is less than ideal. I won’t try to out you and you’ll leave me out of the class’ drama?”

The brunette nodded before taking Marion’s large hand, “I’ll leave you alone and you’ll leave me alone”.

The two of them left school that day feeling a little lighter than they had in months. Though they didn’t exactly follow up on the terms of their armistice.

Whenever things got too stressful, Lila would seek comfort in the presence of her four classmates. Her free periods were taken up by hang out sessions in the library, roof top, their secret classroom, and even Marion’s parents bakery. Without the fear of the blue haired male trying to expose her clouding her behavior, Lila finally allowed herself the luxury of tasting a strawberry scone and nearly melted. How had she not come by here sooner?

Soon enough, Lila became a member of their little group along with Luka and Kagami. Chloe and Alya were as guarded as a safe before they began to open up and accept the brunette and invited her to their quality girl time. Luka, Nino, and Marion warmed up to her a lot faster. The latters weren’t one too hood on to grudges (sometimes) and Luka could tell that Lila genuinely wanted to be their friend.

When Luka made a face Alya clapped back, “What? I hang around boys all the time. I need a break.”

It brought warmth to know that she had made friends, real friends who cared about her and not what she could give them.

Lila found that she, Chloe, Kagami, and Alya had a lot in common and thus spent a lot of time in each other’s company. She had girlfriends who she could bitch with over tea and lovely spas. Kagami partook in it less, but she did have her own opinions she liked to gripe about with the others.

On the off occasion when the couldn’t spend time together, Lila found herself with Marion, either baking together, talking about different fashion trends, or going out for ice cream. He also appointed her as a lead model for his fashion brand. She really was made for the spotlight. After several more weeks she could say with confidence that Marion was her best friend. Not out loud unless she wanted to face Alya’s wrath.

So, why did her heart rate increase ever time she thought about him?Now that they weren’t on hostile terms, she really took in his features. Thick hair so dark it reflected blue in the sunlight, swooped to the left to reveal his stunning blue eyes that seemed even brighter against his pale skin. He was tall, around 5’6, and he was lean with muscle (his time as Red Beetle is to blame that).

With the more time they spent together, the closer the two began to be. Until they were basically dating, though they were the only ones who didn’t even realize it. Chloe, Alya, and Kagami would give her knowing looks with Alya being the most enthusiastic, and Nino and Luka would smirk and tease Marion about it. The bluenette would blush and try to hide his embarrassment.

Then the truth finally came out, it had been well into the school year on a Wednesday in the beginning of June. Lila had forgotten her science project at home and her mother went to the school accompanied by Lea to return it to her.

Lila and Chloe’s eyes widened. Nino and Alya were panicking, and Marion just braced himself for the volcanic eruption he knew was coming. The entire class went Gaga at the arrival of the Lea Rossi. Everyone was speaking over each other, trying to get her attention. Until Rose asked how fun It must have been for Lila to meet Prince Ali.

A floodgate of lies were released like an unstoppable, violent tsunami. As Lila’s mother and Lea began ripping apart her lies. The Rossi matriarch was especially furious with all the lies her daughter had told. The only it could have been worse is if Lila had been skipping school (Lila doesn’t play truant in this take or make other people do her work).

The class was outraged. Lila had taken advantage of them, lied to them, and made them look like idiots. Never mind the fact that it was them who had pushed their demands and ideas onto Lila when Marion and Alya wouldn’t heed them anymore. The brunette had run out of the classroom, the reporter and DJ moved to go after her as Chloe scoffed down at the students with distain.

The fashion designer just looked at the class with a combination of disappointment, rage, and finally resignation. Something they had never seen before. He hadn’t agreed with Lila’s lying but he could understand why she did it. He locked eyes with Adrianne who looked relieved that Lila was finally exposed. Lea just looked on with glee as her younger sister’s kingdom of lies crumbled.

The class looked at him, apologies on their tongue, but Marion beat them to it, “You guys are just the worse,” they all reared back as if he’d slapped them, with Adrianne looking the most hurt. He glared at them mercilessly as he continued with disgust, “Sure, I agree that Lila shouldn’t have lied to you but you guys were just taking advantage of her as much as she was to you. She never mentioned that I was bullying her, but you all jumped to the opportunity to suck up to her and harassed me, excluded me from class events, and sent me horrible texts. Honestly, who do you all think you are? Lila was literally exhausting herself trying to satisfy you sycophants and this is how you repay her. You think think that you deserve everything and are willing to put the pressure of your whims onto the backs of people who already have so much on their plate. And what’s worse is that Adrianne knew Lila was lying and didn’t once step in to defend me,” this caused the blonde to blanch as Marion shamelessly threw her under the bus and dozens of hurt, outraged, and cold eyes fell on her cowering form. “To you all, I say this: You’re garbage, I never want to be friends again, and you are not special. If you want something done, get off your asses and do it yourself,” Marion turned tail and left the classroom, a stunned silence answering his tirade.

Seven different akumas came out of it, hellbent on getting revenge on Lila Rossi. Luckily, Viperion, Ryoko, Queen Bee, Carapace, Rena Rouge, and Red Beetle were on the scene. Feline Noir didn’t show, to which the other heroes didn’t bat an eye. They were used to the cat hero sitting out of battles they were involved in out of sheer spite. She was more of a nuisance and a liability anyways so the fight would proceed much quicker without her sassy quips and goofing off.

Red Beetle insisted on taking Lila to safety. Her scooped her up gently in a princess carry and laughed himself into the sky with his yo-yo, holding on to the Italian with a strong yet comforting grip.

The battle was over in about ten minutes. The heroes stood nearby, helping civilians and gaining order as Red Beetle held onto a sobbing Lila.

“Don’t listen to them Lila, you can be amazing without lying,” Marion as the spotted hero spoke soothing words to the Italian as he stroked her hair affectionately. He would never have the guts to do this as a civilian without becoming a blushing mess.

”It’s not just them. My own sister and mother think so too. It’s kind of hard to move past that when it’s your family whispering that,” she sobbed even harder and her grip on Red Beetle tightened. Burying her head in his chest, she could hear his heart beat; so similar to Marion’s own.

The temporary heroes rushed to comfort her, with Ryoko offering to run her mother and sister through with her sword. That actually got a smile out of the Italian as Red Beetle wiped her tears away. He then offered to take Lila home to which the Italian agreed. With a ‘bug out’ the hero swung himself away with the brunette in hand.

The other heroes were glad that the ladybug hero would take Lila home safely, but they were still worried.

Alya in particular.

How was she going to tell Marion that Paris’ most beloved hero was interested in his unofficial girlfriend?

[kayleezra]

would you do modern!Laszlo x fem!reader

Reader was a fashion designer, you are working, then a call from a psychiatrist (Laszlo) was telling you how is your day. Laszlo would like you to go his apartment with him tonight for dinner. You would love to. Few moments later, you came to his apartment, Laszlo open it, as you come in. His apartment was modern victorian. You follow him to the dining room, you two were hungry as you two talked kindly. Then you two finish for dinner. You sit on the sofa as Laszlo was beside you, telling you how everything went. He approached you as he pinned you down. He really has feelings about you. You two glad as they spend time with each other.

i hope you will write it, i appreciate it, and hope you have a good day again :’)

A/N: Hi Love, thank you again for the request! I’m sorry this took me a little longer than I planned. I hope this is okay!

Sewn Heart // (Laszlo Kreizler x GN!Reader)

Word Count: 1168 Warnings: Mentions of the death of a loved on (Laszlo’s client, very very minor)

Summary: Modern AU, your friend Laszlo has had a difficult day and it makes him realize that he needs to tell you how he feels.

You’re hunched over your desk, the desk lamp beating brightly on the paper you're currently working on. You’ve got multiple sketches of a dress you’d like to create but you’re having trouble coming up with a final draft. Your hand hurts from drawing lace detailing over and over again, especially when you’re never quite satisfied with the result.

You take a deep breath and move away from the desk and look at the mannequin that stands covered in a mess of mixed and matched materials. The strips of material lay draped across the mannequin and the excess hanging off in whatever way gravity takes them.

Your phone rings from your desk and you’re quick to pick it up, wanting to get away from the frustrating work. You see it’s Laszlo so you’re even excited to get the call.

“Hi.”, you answer cheerily.

“Hello Love, I was hoping that you’d come over for dinner tonight.”

“I’d love to! Rough day?”

“Something like that. I’ll tell you all about it tonight.”

“Alright, how’s 6?”

“Perfect, I’ll see you then.”

“See then.”, you hang up with a new smile on your face.

You leave your office more than happy knowing that you will be visiting Laszlo and returning to an empty apartment. You’re slightly nervous as you haven't been in his house before, you’ve been in the doorway but not much further than that. You’re also nervous because Laszlo's tone was heavier than normal on the phone. There was clearly something on Laszlo’s mind that he didn’t want to share over the phone, so much so that he invited you over for dinner.

You knock on his door with your stomach in your throat. He answers the door, his face brightening a little when he sees you.

“Please come in.”, he gestures

You nod your head and follow him. You walk down a hallway, pass a living room to your left and a grand staircase to your right. Then you follow him into the dining room, found on your left just before the kitchen at the end of the hall. His house is beautiful. It’s clearly old as the base structures and door look to be victorian. Laszlo has decorated it based on its history, he’s got a few staple pieces from the victorian era with modern minimalist touches.

Laszlo, ever the gentleman, pulls out a chair for you.

“Thank you.”, you say while taking a seat.

“Let me get dinner.”, he leaves and you're left in silence.

You’re still nervous, Laszlo is quiet and reserved, more so than normal. You want to ask him about it but there hasn’t been a moment to. You take a deep breath, you’ve just arrived, he’s busy with dinner, there’s plenty of time to figure out what’s wrong.

Laszlo returns with bountiful plates. Setting one in front of you and one across from you. Laszlo finds his seat and places his napkin in his lap.

“Tonight is a rolled rib roast with a deglaze, braised carrots and rosemary and parmesan crust d potatoes.”

“Wow, is this the type of dish that you always make?”

“Goodness no. I must be honest, I did want to impress you.”

“Well consider me impressed.”

The two of you begin to eat and you share your compliments with Laszlo.

“So, what is wrong?”

“Noth-”

“And don’t say nothing because I know that that is a lie. You may be the psychiatrist but I’m not stupid. And I care.”

“It was simply a hard day. I had a new client who just lost her significant other. She was angry because they had only been together for a year. They’d known each other since childhood but never expressed how they felt about each other until a year ago when her partner was diagnosed with an aggressive stage four cancer. She is angry that she didn’t express her love earlier because now she feels she missed out on an entire life with them.”

The room feels heavy with Laszlo’s re-encounter of his day. Your only hearing the story second had and are overwhelmed with sadness and guilt. You’ve lost people of your own and can remember wanting the opportunity to make more memories. You can’t imagine how you'd feel if you lost someone knowing there was a chance to make more memories.

You reach your hands across the table and look into Laszlo’s eyes, silently telling him your intent to comfort him. He grabs hold of your hands and you give him a reassuring squeeze.

“You know, they not to take your work home with you but-”

“It’s hard not.”, you finish.

“Especially when it solidifies a deep fear of yours.”

You're slightly confused and it shows in your furrowed brows.

“Losing someone you love, before you get the chance to properly love each other.”, Laszlo explains

“Well, that’s a risk we all run when we don’t express how we feel.”

The two of you finish dinner and find yourselves relaxing on the couch in the living room. Behind the couch was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, a small coffee table sat on a rug in front of the couch and beyond that a television. The conversation had long passed but you couldn’t help but wonder.

“Is there anyone, in particular, you’re afraid of losing?”

Laszlo tenses slightly, he sits up and positions himself closer to you and angles himself toward you.

“It’s funny actually, I’m almost too afraid to tell you.”

“Well, how about I start?”, you ask.

“You’ve got someone whom you haven’t told how you feel? And here I thought you were the bravest person in the world.”

“Ha, far from it. I fear a lot more than you think.”

Laszlo smiles and looks at you, “Well I still think you’re the bravest person alive.”

“Well, let me try to live up to your thoughts. There is someone who I - who I love and haven’t told. I’m scared that it may ruin the growing relationship we already share. He’s brilliant and kind and so I think that maybe I’m not good enough for him.” You pause afraid to admit your feelings. “He’s you, Laszlo. I love you.”

You refuse to make eye contact with Laszlo, still afraid of his reaction. You hear Laszlo remove himself from the couch and you're too heartbroken to look up and see where he’s off to. Luckily, you don’t need to because his hand grabs hold of your chin and pulls you up and off the couch. Before you can even look him in the eyes and wonder what he’s up to, he kisses you passionately, walking you against the bookshelf. He’s pinned you and you love it, you wrap your arms around his neck as you might lose him.

The two of you pull away when you're out of breath. Laszlo puts his forehead against yours.

“Looks like while confronting your own fear, you confronted mine too. I love you.”

“Well, then maybe I am the bravest person alive.”

Laszlo smiles and kisses you again.

[idkwhoiamanymorebutwtf]

IMMA DO A CHARACTER ANALYSIS (THAT IS MOSTLY HEADCANON AND DRAWING CONCLUSIONS FROM TINY THINGS WHICH MAY OR MAY NOT BE PROVEN WRONG IN THE FUTURE!) ON EACH MEMBER OF THE BLIGHT FAMILY AND THEIR DYNAMICS WITH ONE ANOTHER FROM WHAT LIMITED INFORMATION WE HAVE ON THESE CHARACTERS!!! OBVIOUSLY MY ANALYSIS ON THE BLIGHT SIBLINGS WILL PROBABLY BE MORE ON POINT THAN OF THE PARENTS.

Mrs. Blight: It seems very likely to me that Mrs. Blight likely comes from a high class background. I mean, both parents obviously hold some status, "Blight's only associate with the strongest witchlings", right? But Mrs. Blight in particular likely comes from a place of huge influence, even compared to her husband, as we can infer from her decision to make her daughter dye her hair green, which suggests inheriting Mrs. Blight's traits is ideal for their children which means Mrs. Blight likely comes from a higher up place on the social ladder. The glimpse we see of Mrs. Blight in the background of the flashback in Young Blood Old Souls can actually tell us a bit about her upbringing. Mrs Blight is sitting up straight and tall, a smile on her face (though she doesn't appear particularly pleasant even with that smile), her hair pulled back out of her face completely and into a neat bun. 

Mrs. Blight appears to have herself collected and well put together even from a very young age. I suspect her own parents were rather controlling judging both by her general appearance and the fact that she's sitting besides her future husband, implying the two were quite possibly pushed together by their parents at a young age (weather they were romantically paired up or pushed to become friends). I suspect Mrs. Blight is an only child. She has a clear obsession with status and keeping up appearances (she forced her daughter to dye her hair cause...'they need to match') and is willing to do whatever it takes to maintain that (she was the one responsible for threatening to get Willow rejected from Hexside). This is why I suspect that Mrs. Blight was an only child. Her behavior seems like that of somebody who's family legacy rests solely on her shoulders. Having no siblings would ensure that there was always the utmost pressure placed on Mrs. Blight and Mrs. Blight alone, which would explain her apparent perfectionism. On top of this, she supposedly has a bit of a rivalry with Boscha's mother, which further solidifies the idea of her being an only child into my mind, because in high class high pressure families, children often don't have the opportunity to form rivalries with outsiders because they're often fighting for attention and assets within their own families. If she does have any siblings, she's likely the oldest child and her parents' uncontested favorite, inheriting their assets and their legacy and all the pressure that came along with it. She appears to be have been a student in the oracle track. We all know that the track with the most potential is the abominations track, so for Mrs. Blight to be in a different track, I suspect she was quite the prodigy in oracle magic. She's almost certainly part of the emperor's coven. Mrs. Blight seems extraordinarily cold, calculated, and cruel. That satisfied smirk on her face during the flashback in Young Blood Old Souls, the lengths she goes through to control her youngest daughter in particular, the threats she made in Understanding Willow against a five year old she didn't even know? Mrs. Blight is cold and ambitious and fits right in with the emperor's coven. And while I have no doubt that for such a high status woman to be in the Oracle Track rather than the Abominations Track she must have been quite the prodigy, Mrs. Blight most likely wouldn't have gone into the Oracle Coven no matter how skilled she is in the subject because she needs to keep her status. She's almost certainly part of the Emperor's Coven, I believe. She's likely always stood out. Always been very impressive, very ambitious, very visible and in the public eye throughout her life judging by the way she carries herself. 

I don't think she loves anyone in her family. I feel like she and Mr. Blight were clearly pushed together from a young age and it was more a marriage of convenience than anything else. Two high class ambitious children paired up purely for their wealth and status. Her willingness to abuse and manipulate and hurt her youngest daughter makes me believe Mrs. Blight doesn't have a natural motherly love for her children. In fact, from what little we've seen from Mrs. Blight, it seems entirely possible that she may even have a personality disorder of some sort- specifically Npd. One of the biggest causes of narcissism is suffering from previous parental abuse of some sort, and judging from her treatment of her own daughter, it is very probable that Mrs. Blight may not have had amazing parents herself. Mrs. Blight seems to view herself as incredibly important judging by how she forced her daughter to dye her hair to look more like her and from how she talks down to those she thinks are 'below' herself. She's the type to take advantage of other's to get what she wants. She's cold and manipulative and self centered from everything we've seen of her. And she seems to do this very dangerous thing that's seen in a lot of abusers with npd where she speaks gently and with a smile towards her victim while manipulating and abusing them. As is common in narcissistic parenting, her children take on the Golden Child/Scapegoat roles with one child being seen as 'perfect' and are endlessly coddled while the other child is hurt and belittled and abused. This happens partially when the parent unconsciously projects onto their golden child, using them to reflect back their own ego, and partially as a conscience tactic to turn the children against one another, sparking rivalry and resentment and making it less likely for their scapegoat child's abuse to be taken seriously because their golden child isn't being hurt in the same way and isn't inclined to side with the abusive parent over their sibling. We can see something similar to this sort of dynamic among the current Blight siblings (Amity is literally a textbook scapegoat), adding more fuel to the possibility that Mrs. Blight may very well be narcissistic.

Mr. Blight: He seems like the less dominant personality between himself and his wife. In the small glimpse we see of him in that flashback, he's slightly slouched with messier hair than his wife and a disinterested expression. He appears to be mostly unconcerned with what's going on wheras his Mrs. Blight sits up straight gazing smugly at the scene in front of her. 

When we see the two in Understanding Willow, Mrs. Blight clearly leads the conversation with Amity, and their children all take on Mrs. Blight's hair color instead of their father's, even Amity, who was born with brown hair. The family pressuring their youngest daughter into dying her hair Mrs. Blight's color makes me think that Mr. Blight likely comes from a slightly less influential background from his wife. I believe he likely comes from a family that, while powerful, is less so than his wife's. He seems no stranger to high expectations. Mr. Blight was in the abominations track, the track which offers the best opportunities and seems to be held in a high esteem. In Understanding Willow he was also the one who brought up how Blight's only associate with powerful witches, and of course he was deemed of a high enough social standing to be an acceptable match to Mrs. Blight, who I read as being the heir to a very influential family. I do believe that Mr. Blight likely has siblings, though, or at the very least cousins on both sides who may be able to carry the family legacy. I say this because he can afford not to be as ambitious or perfectionistic as his wife. As I pointed out early, he's slouched over and appears disinterested in the small flashback we see him in,  and unlike with Mrs. Blight, Dana hasn't really mentioned anything about him or his past such as rivalries with other characters. I theorize that he was likely expected to do well and not embarrass his family, but that he had older or more promising siblings to carry their family legacy and thus wasn't saddled with as many expectations as his wife would be. I personally believe he's most likely in the abominations coven. This is in line with his upbringing as I picture it, him doing well for himself as there are clearly great opportunities within the coven and being part of it, especially if placed in a high rank, would be acceptable of someone with his stature, however as he was likely never faced with the same pressure as his wife and hasn't truly shown the signs of ambition she has, he saw no need to overachieve and may not have aimed for the Emperor's Coven like I believe his wife did. Overall, I doubt he's overly ambitious. He doesn't show the signs of a manipulative, overly callous, perfectionistic, or egotistical personality that he wife does leading me to believe he's in the category of "slightly above average, nothing special but satisfactory for his status". Mr. Blight clearly isn't a good parent, though. He was very cold towards his daughter in Understanding Willow, and while he didn't give me quite as bad of a feeling as his wife did, Mr. Blight certainly shared in her dissatisfaction. We haven't heard much evidence that he's overtly abusive to the same extent his wife is (in fact, we don't hear much about Mr. Blight at all except for him sitting next to or backing up his wife whenever she's being mildly interesting), however from what we've seen from him he's certainly not a very good parent either. I feel as if he's likely just mostly detached from his family. He'll monitor that they're achieving the appropriate amount and fulfilling the expectations that befall someone of their class and influence and voice his disapproval when they aren't, but mostly just kinda ignores his children, leaving them to their own devices or for their mother to deal with in any way she sees fit. This is reminiscent of the way I previously stated he was likely raised. Where he was expected to handle himself the way he ought to and not embarrass his family, and as long as he was satisfactory he will have been left alone in favor of his older or more ambitious siblings. He seems like the type of person who faced neglect as a child and is, as a result, generally cold and detached from those around him. It's possible that Mr. Blight, unlike his wife, is capable of love and does love his children, but that his own upbringing where he wasn't given much if any attention prevents him from being a good parent. He likely won't feel the need to pay any attention to the oldest two because their performance is satisfactory and he never learned how to give positive attention. "They're fulfilling our expectations, they haven't done anything wrong, why would I need to acknowledge them?" because from the way he handles himself I suspect his own parents wouldn't have much to say to him either unless he'd messed up (rich influential people are never good parents tbh, especially not in a classist dictatorship like the one they live in). On the other hand, he's likely mildly abusive towards his youngest. Not to the extent that Mrs. Blight is, but he won't be any stranger to weaponizing neglect and aiming cold disapproval towards his youngest when she 'acts inappropriately' as she's been known to, and of course he has been shown to back up his wife in her high expectations and abusive behaviors. 

I don't believe there's a specific mental health problem we can definitively attribute his behavior to (unlike how I said Mrs. Blight seems suspiciously similar to someone with Npd from what we've seen of her so far). Maybe Schizoid Personality Disorder because he seems very cold and detached from what i've seen so far and I believe he likely had an upbringing that was very much lacking in warmth and praise from his family.

(note that it's entirely possible neither of them will fully fit the criteria for the disorders I mentioned. Some people don't fit any specific disorder even if they are abusive and do have a specific cause for said behavior, i'm just using these disorders as a reference point for any of you who want to look more deeply into the kind of behaviors and backgrounds i'm suggesting for the two as my current interpretations and theories for how they were raised and who they are and how they treat their families fall in line with narcisistic personality disorder and schizoid personality disorder respectively)

Okay, now onto the characters we've actually seen more of and know more about!!!

Emira Blight: I know this goes against the trickster archetype Em and Ed both fit into, however I think she's by far the most traditionally impressive of the Blight siblings. I think she's certainly the most in line with family expectations. Emira is clearly a very talented person. She's very good with illusion magic and canonically gets high test scores even despite skipping classes. She's highly intelligent, and even moreso, she's very charismatic. Emira is clearly the leader between herself and her brother. She seems to be very convincing, can encourage other people (like when she got amity to use that fire spell to save them in episode 12 despite how she 'didn't actually think you could do it'),  and doesn't have much issue telling other's what to do (again, thinking back to episode 12 when emira kept ordering her brother around). That’s not even mentioning how easily she drew Luz in back during episode 7.

 On top of that, she isn't exactly the best person. I know everyone loves Emira. Hell even I love Emira, don't get me wrong. And I don't think she's purposefully a bad person. However she can be very cold and cruel, unempathetic and unapologetic. Again, Emira is very much CAPABLE of love and empathy, however it's clear that she often can't express these feelings or possibly has a weaker sense of empathy than other's do as a result of her parents own skewed morality. It's very clear that Emira has some sense of ambition too. This is revealed by her worst fear being stuck with Ed forever (it's very possible and assumed by most people that Em was lying about this fear but i personally find the implications that come with the possibility that she was being at least semi-truthful wayyy too interesting not to analyze that possibility.) I mean, if she wasn't lying about her worst fear, that has such big implications for her character. It's very obvious that Emira loves her brother very much and that the two are extremely close. She may say mean things to him sometimes because Emira's sense of empathy has been poorly developed (again, I don't think she's incapable of empathy at all, however as I said before, I really don't think she's had the opportunity to properly develop her natural empathy which is why her moral compass is so skewed), but Emira clearly does love her brother nonetheless and enjoy spending time with him. So why would her biggest fear be being stuck with him forever? Well, they're twins. They were conceived together and born together and raised together and still to this day spend all their time together. And twins who look as similar as these two do and spend as much time together as these two do aren't always viewed as individuals. Ed and Em are, in many people's eyes, just Ed and Em. A pair, a duo, permanently solidified as being one in the same. And this kind of thing is fine for some people. But Emira is intelligent and charismatic and talented. Emira could probably achieve any goal she could ever have in life. Given who her parents are and the kind of pressure they put on their kids, Emira probably very much has big ambitions. And for someone with big ambitions that she very much could achieve, being seen as "half of a pair" could easily grow very very tiring and very very concerning. Overall, I think Emira reminds me very much of her mother, and I feel like she's probably the 'favorite' child among her parents. It makes a lot of sense that their mother would grab onto Emira as a projection of herself. After all, Em looks a lot like her mother with gold hair, green eyes, and a small nose. Literally just like her mother even down to being the same gender. And personality wise they're both intelligent, both talented over-achievers, both not too caught up with morality. I feel like Emira and her mother are likely very close on the basis of Emira being absolutely perfect for the role of her mother's golden child. And I can't help but wonder if Em wants to join the emperor's coven. I mean, i'm fairly sure their mother is in it and if she's using Emira as a projection of herself, she'd want Em to follow in her footsteps, surely? Especially since the Emperor's Coven is the absolute highest coven a witch can join. That would explain why she learned that one fire spell too (i mean, amity would want to know it cause she's got a natural love of learning like the nerd she is, but emira clearly isn't all that invested in learning if her skipping classes and mocking the idea of  hanging out in the library is anything to go by, so i can't see em learning any magic she doesn't /need/ to know, and unless her plan in life was to join the emperor's coven, she wouldn't need to know anything not illusion based). I can't imagine Emira is as close to her father as she is to her mother just based off the differences in the two's personalities, but she'd certainly receive preferential treatment from him over her younger sister as well just off the basis of fitting better into the family's ideals. Again, I believe he's very distant in general and not one to offer much affection, but any praise he does give will likely be directed towards Emira (*maybe* ed too *sometimes* but praise from their father likely isn't a very common thing so while I don't think ed is really mistreated by their father, he still may not get very much affection just cause that's how their father is). And as for Emira's feelings towards her siblings? She definitely thinks of herself as being 'above' her siblings. Being better than them and this is probably because their parents think she's better than them. She's very close to Ed and loves him very much, so her feelings of superiority over him on account of being their parents' favorite definitely takes form in protective instincts when it comes to her relationship with Edric. She feels the need to guide and defend him, taking on a leadership role and creating a minor power dynamic in Emira's favor within their relationship in the process. Emira's relationship with Amity, on the other hand, is much worse than Ed and Em's relationship. In my opinion there's no question Amity takes on the 'scapegoat' role in their family dynamic, facing the brunt of their parents' abuse, which is likely the cause of Emira's distasteful behavior towards her younger sister. To quote an article I read, "Sometimes the ‘golden child’ is not so benign, and more often than not will take great pleasure in supporting the narcissistic parent in destroying the scapegoat child’s confidence and self- esteem." , because when a child with a relatively positive relationship to their parents sees their sibling being abused and gaslit by those same parents, they often grow to be on their parents' side and believe that the other child did deserve it or that they are lying about how bad things were. Emira Blight watched her sister be mistreated from a young age and when her parents said Amity deserved it...Emira believed them. To quote that article again, "The golden child learns very quickly that to gain the narcissistic parent’s approval, one must behave in this un-empathetic, judgemental, disgusting way. If they behave like the scapegoat, (concerned, empathetic, and loving) they will be treated like the scapegoat. The narcissistic golden child refuses to stand in the corner with the scapegoated child and have stones thrown at them. Instead, they unconsciously decide that one will fare better in this family system, and may even gain some approval, or feigned love and support if they take on the role of psycho bully." I mean, what normal functional human being thinks publishing their baby sister's diary all over school is a reasonable response to getting tattled on?

 Emira is a golden child. She herself isn't a narcissist in the same way her mother is, we see very clearly that Emira does have the capacity to love and empathize with people, even if her moral compass has been skewed by her awful parents, however her moral compass HAS most definitely been skewed, and Emira DOES participate in the abuse of her younger sister.

Edric Blight: Edric, like his twin sister, is very talented. He has high test scores, good grades, and is very talented in illusions. I will admit he's not quite as intelligent in the traditional sense, not quite as ambitious, etc. Overall Edric isn't quite as perfectly suited to his family's ideals, and whats more, he seems to have more capacity for empathy than Emira does. His moral compass is still skewed, don't get me wrong, but it isn't because he doesn't care when he upsets people, it seems more like he doesn't really realize when he does something hurtful. Edric seems like he just wants to have fun overall. He does what seems entertaining in the moment without putting much thought into what he's actually doing and the possible complications that can arise from his actions. Edric is impulsive and doesn't fully understand social cues and so he doesn't really get it when he does something wrong. I feel like this is probably, at least in part, due to his heavy reliance on Emira. She's charismatic, intelligent, etc, at luckily for Edric they're a pair. Edric never really needed to rely on his own common sense because Emira is the leader in their dynamic. She makes the choices for both of them and Edric just kinda follows along without really thinking about it. Edric can't really function on his own.

 Tbh I think that plays into his worst fear of being alone. He needs someone else there to guide him because Edric  never needed to think or act on his own. I actually feel like his dynamic with Emira is what saved him from being a target of their parents abuse and put him in the 'golden child' role instead of the 'scapegoat' role. He's a good person, but his obedience and compliance outweighs that. He does what he's told to do by his sister or by his parents and he doesn't stop to think about or object to it. That's what keeps him from being a target of his parents, he doesn't question his mother or her delusions and by nature of just how much time he spends with Emira and how reliant he is on her, they've become functionally one entity in the eyes on many people, which makes Edric look satisfactory in his parents' eyes when he otherwise may not be. He gets good enough grades not to be a problem, he's compliant enough not to be a problem, Edric isn't a problem, he doesn't challenge his mother's delusions and managed to incite the protective instincts of his twin sister by emotionally clinging to her like he did. And i'm not sure if this is intentional or not. I mean, he won't have done this consciously no matter what, but I wonder if there was a subconscious motivation to become so reliant on her as a survival strategy living in the environment they do or if the protection it lends him is just a convenient result of their closeness. Either way, I feel like Ed literally can't survive without Em. She's his shield against being targeted by their family and his guide through navigating the rest of the world. He's really got no capacity for independence. I feel like Edric is headed for the Emperor's Coven too simply because I think Emira is. As I established before, he cannot function without his sister's guidance,  Ed wouldn't be able to handle being in a different coven from her. And of course their parents would probably want him to join the Emperor's Coven because that's the highest honor a witch can have, right? And he's got enough blind obedience and magical talent to be a member. He likely won't reach any position of influence due to his lack of leadership skills or true critical thinking abilities, but there's no reason Edric wouldn't be able to at least get into the coven. I feel like Edric's relationship with their parents is very similar to Emira's. He's adored and praised by their mother because he subconsciously managed to camouflage his way into the role of a golden child. This is reflected both in how Amity said most people saw BOTH Ed and Em as "perfect" and with how Edric calls their mother "mom" instead of going with more formal terms, which I kinda...can't see their younger sister doing with their parents. Again, like with Emira, I feel like he'll have a less close but not bad relationship with their father. Ed and Em will likely see their father as the type who's a little distant and has trouble expressing himself but still loves them and is a good dad in the end. Because Ed and Em don't have the same experience as their sister does. They won't be talked down to by their father, he won't weaponize his coldness against them, Ed and Em may even get an occasional pat on the head from their father when they do something particularly impressive because they're the golden children and are 'perfect' in the eyes of their parents. I also find Edric's relationship with his younger sister interesting though. He's not a bad person, his sense of empathy is dampened because he doesn't UNDERSTAND when he hurts people, not because he doesn't have the full capacity to CARE when he hurts people. When he's mean to Amity it isn't because he's cruel or callous, he's just messing around and doesn't realize he's going too far because his understanding of the world is almost entirely based around Emira, and if she doesn't think they're doing anything wrong, surely they aren't. Ed's just trying to have fun, really, and he thinks that Em's motives and feelings on the matter are the same, not realizing she's got slightly more malicious intentions than he does. That's the difference between Ed and Em in their relationship with their sister. He really is just messing around and trying to tease without realizing how cruel it can be.

 Edric doesn't realize he's hurting anyone and isn't trying to be malicious whatsoever while Em is very aware that her actions are hurtful and does them maliciously, she just doesn't grasp how morally fucked up that is because she's got awful parents who think abuse is perfectly okay.

Amity Blight: And then there's Amity. She's clearly the scapegoat of the family, there's no question there, really. And it's pretty clear why she was picked for that role. Well, actually, there are two reasons. The first being birth order. Ed and Em were born first and already had claim on the "golden child" role by looking so much like their mother and seeming so pliable to her will. And, well, narcissists often do need somebody to lash out towards, and that next born child is a perfect target. Especially given Amity's auburn hair was a clear source of displeasure to their mother. It's only natural that Amity be the immediate scapegoat.  And there's a third reason she STAYED the scapegoat. To quote an article I read, "The scapegoat has the empathy gene, and they know how to love. They can put themselves in someone else’s shoes, and feel their pain. This ability to feel the internal pain of others is what drives them to speak up about the abuse from the narcissistic parent towards both the ‘golden child,’ and themselves. It is not clear as to why the scapegoat child is more sensitive to the feelings of others and has more empathy.". That's why she continued to be the scapegoat throughout her life. Because Amity Blight has ALWAYS had very strong morals. At a young age we see her befriend Willow and acknowledge Boscha and Skara as "mean", showing that even as a little kid, Amity didn't have the same moral handicap as her older siblings and parents. We see even at the beginning of the show that Amity has a very strong sense of integrity. That she doesn't lie or cheat and, that she hated Luz for cheating, hell she even canonically lost all her respect for Lilith when Lilith cheated, which is a very strong sign of morals. We see, once again in early episodes BEFORE befriending Luz, that Amity regrets coming across and cold towards Luz, who she thought was a bad person at the time. For fucks sake, she even happily reads to little kids in her free time. 

Amity has a very strong expression of that 'empathy gene' scapegoats often portray. I mean, hell, i'm always going on and on and on about how Amity's strongest trait is her integrity, right? Well, "The scapegoat has integrity. They never back down on this integrity" according to an article I read. And it's just painfully fitting of Amity. Another thing that's VERY common of scapegoats is that they will often publicly question their parents. they consciously reject the narcissistic parents beliefs and values. They question the narcissist. They decide to treat people respectfully whenever possible and hold a clear distaste for their family's behavior. We see Amity do just this. When her parents told her to stop being friends with Willow her first response to their classist bs was basically "hell no" until she was literally forced to do as she was told. She expresses a desire to "have somewhere to go", she blatantly goes against her family's will by befriending Luz and Willow, she was certainly disobeying by discarding Boscha as a friend. Amity's got the clear awareness that her family sucks and that too is a scapegoat trait. Amity's one biggest flaw that makes her a target in her family is her capacity for empathy and integrity and respect. Her refusal to play into her family's delusions when she doesn't have to. Common beliefs that scapegoated children face include the idea that there's something disgusting about their physical appearance (Amity dyes her hair because her mother made her feel so awful about her natural color), that if they aren't being productive they're worthless (Amity's obsession with working hard and being the best is obviously very unhealthy, look at her behavior in I Was A Teenage Abomination, that was a fucking MELTDOWN.), that if they disagree with those around them they'll be rejected and exiled (She let Boscha and her gang pick on Willow despite the fact that Amity herself clearly didn't enjoy it because she was scared to openly disagree and I think it's pretty obvious where she learned to be so compliant from), etc. Out of everyone in her family, I feel like Amity will have the worst dynamic with her mother. Ed and Em may be abusive siblings due to their positions as "golden children" and her father may be cold and controlling, but honestly I don't think anything can compare to how horrific narcissistic parents are. Her mother will likely belittle her constantly with awful verbal insults and constantly raising expectations that she can never fully meet. Of course narcissistic parents are also master manipulators. Look back at Understanding Willow where this awful woman spoke so pleasantly, as if she wasn't being abusive and awful. I have no doubt this woman will absolutely try to gaslight her daughter nonstop and convince her that she deserves to be abused. Which is just horrible. Amity's father, on the other hand, I feel, will likely be much more straightforward. He'll be much colder in general than his wife, but that's honestly a good thing with abusive parents because he probably won't be as obsessive in his gaslighting or as trying to come across as a loving parent. He's abusive but at least he'll keep their interactions short and professional. Then there's Ed and Em. They seem to have this inability to empathize with the intensity of the pain and abuse their sister's put through. If they could they'd stand up for their sister or at the very least they wouldn't partake in the abuse themselves. "most of the narcissist’s children turn a blind eye, look the other way, and allow for the scapegoated child to get pecked and pecked and pecked, until there is literally no soul left to peck at.", and of course these parents will convince the golden child(ren) that the scapegoat deserves to be abused or even that they're lying/exaggerating. That they're unhinged, mentally ill, overly emotional, manipulative liars, etc, and if this sort of thing is happening in the Blight household (which I don't doubt), then that's probably one of the big reasons Edric and Emira are so cruel to their sister. 

I mean, I can’t help but feel like their lines of “It’s for her own good” and “She needs this” to try and convince Luz that posting Amity’s diary all over school was appropriate behavior...sounded a lot like a gaslighting parent. In fact, so did their annoyance when Amity got upset at them for reading her diary, the way they kinda brushed it off and said “Looks like mittens killed the fun- again.” as if they didn’t just hurt their sister. And it’s really no question who they got that kind of behavior from.

[ailelie]

a nohorcrux!au in which Dudley decides to be decent sooner; aka, how Dudley got a boyfriend

Hermione became friends with Dudley by dint of being the only one of Harry’s friends who could use a telephone and Dudley being allowed on the phone when Harry was not.

Harry traded Mrs. Weasley’s sweets for a recap of Dudley’s conversations with Hermione. 

The arrangement had started thanks to a confluence of circumstances that had led Harry to requesting Hermione’s phone number in the first place and buying extra cauldron cakes on the train.

When Hermione visited Number Four, she did so as Dudley’s friend. Harry and Dudley did not mention she had magic. Hermione brought toothbrushes for the whole family--a move Harry thought was a bit much, but somehow solidified her worth in his aunt and uncle’s eyes.

After that, Hermione became “just a friend, Mum, seriously” and welcome at the house whenever she liked.

Harry and Hermione spent hours at the local park--with Dudley, of course, who was their excuse and who loomed awkwardly keeping his old friends away. 

Hermione didn’t mean to draw Dudley into the conversation, but she talked to him for a half hour every other night of the week. Not everything was about Harry. He was a bully, Dudley that is, but he’d confessed once to wanting to be better and, well, Hermione liked a project. 

And he did want to be better, but only because Hermione was a proper girl and decent and Dudley wanted to be worthy of her friendship.

Ron remained in the loop via letters to Hermione, which she passed on to Harry through her conversations with Dudley.

The whole matter was a tangle, but the practical effect was that, when school resumed, she discovered she rather missed the frequent chats. Dudley had a very direct way of thinking that cut through her own snarls sometimes.

For his part, Dudley had never resented Harry Hogwarts until befriending Hermione.

During the school year, Dudley wrote letters and Hermione returned novels. He took to carrying his letters around and adding on throughout the week until he had a respectable enough length to send. The practical effect of this was that each letter became a diary. He didn’t realize how much he opened himself to her.

He told her about his black eye earned defending a first year from upperclassmen.

She congratulated him and sent a packet of sugar quills.

Which is how Dudley learned one of his classmates also had family at Hogwarts. Apparently sucking on a Wizarding sweet where anyone could see was not the smartest of things to do. The classmate had always been a strange one, but he informed Dudley that was because he was a Squib--someone without magic born into a magical family.

Dudley got plenty of opportunities to put his new altruism to the test defending the squib--Christopher Clearwater--from their classmates. Piers thought him mad, but followed along with the new regime with merely a roll of his eyes. The rest thought they could now challenge ‘Big D’ since he’d clearly gone soft.

Dudley disabused them of that notion, but did not resume his friendships, contenting himself with weird Christopher and ever-loyal Piers. Christopher was okay, but he was relieved to have kept Piers.

When the school year ended, the Clearwaters invited Dudley to visit and thus he received his first foray into the magical world. 

He didn’t tell Harry. Matters between the cousins remained purely business. Dudley was Harry’s personal telephone and Harry was Dudley provider of sweets. The arrangement worked. They had too much history to mess with the arrangement.

The point is, Dudley and Christopher went to Diagon Alley and Hermione was there with her parents. 

If Hermione’s parents were surprised by the appearance of the young man Hermione had been calling for a half hour every other night for the past couple years, they did not show it. Hermione knew their calm demeanor was a mask, though. She had endured too much teasing for her regular phone calls for it to be anything but. It did not matter how many times she explained she was really calling Harry. 

The Grangers invited Dudley and Christopher for ice cream. Hermione ran damage control. Her parents’ comments flew over Dudley’s head, she was sure, but his friend looked cannier. Then again, judging by Dudley’s flushed face and the amount of attention he was paying his bowl, maybe the comments were hitting exactly as intended.

“Sorry about them,” she said later all in a rush. “It isn’t that I don’t like you. As a friend. But. I don’t--”

“Like me,” Dudley finished, forcing a smile. “I get it.”

And he did. And, to be honest, he didn’t want her to like him. Not really. He just wanted to be worth her liking him.

When school resumed, he appointed himself the defender of the first years, instructing them all to find him if any upperclassmen did anything to them. 

Piers responded with the sarcastic gift of a cheap costume cape. 

“Did you get one for yourself too?” Dudley asked.

Piers smirked. “Naturally. You don’t mind being my sidekick, do you?”

“Sidekick?” Dudley’s brows raised. “I’ll show you ‘sidekick.’“

They scuffled and Piers laughed against Dudley’s neck before yielding.

Dudley included the moment in his weekly letter to Hermione. He did not realize how much detail he had placed into describing the exact sparkle in Piers’ eyes until five or six letters later when Hermione returned that section, with others, to him all neatly cut his letters.

In this reply, though, she only asked him to tell her more about his friend.

Five or six letters later, she asked if he liked him.

Dudley had not planned on having a sexuality crisis as a teenager. He did not thank Hermione for foisting one onto him.

Piers and Christopher both noticed something was wrong, because of course they did. When Piers finally confronted him, demanding, “What’s wrong?”

Dudley said the first thing to come to mind. “You’re fit.”

“What’s that got to--oh.” Piers shifted from foot to foot. “Do you want me to stay, or should I--?”

“Just go.” And Piers left.

Dudley still liked girls. Still thought Hermione was beautiful. He just really, really liked his best friend.

Everything went mostly back to normal, but Piers did not tease him quite as much and Dudley missed that.

He deliberately missed the whole first week of phone calls in retaliation. When he finally accepted one, he and Hermione spent the whole conversation arguing. The gist of his position being, “I didn’t need to know I fancied him!”

Harry later asked for a recap and Dudley had nothing to tell him. For once, his conversation with Hermione hadn’t been about Harry at all.

Hermione, for her part, organized every piece of information she could find on bisexuality and coming out until her parents bought a little rainbow decal for their car and told her they loved her no matter what. She felt a bit guilty for forcing a revelation Dudley hadn’t been ready to have yet, but if her Hogwarts experience had taught her anything it was that boys were impossible when it came to feelings.

Long story short, Piers visited later that summer and locked himself and Dudley in Dudley’s bedroom and said, “I think we should try it. Kissing.”

“And then?” Dudley asked, faint at the idea of kissing Piers.

“And then we decide what’s next.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Dudley asked, approaching Piers.

Piers gave him a familiar smirk. “Hey, who’s the brains of this operation?” But his voice shook. His hand, when it fell on Dudley’s shoulder, did not.

They kissed. It wasn’t fireworks, but it wasn’t a disaster either. And when Piers pulled back and said, “All right. I could stand doing that again” before pulling Dudley back to his lips, well, it was perfect.

The point of this all being--Dudley got a boyfriend because Hermione was the only one of Harry’s friends who could use a telephone and Dudley was allowed to accept calls while Harry was not.

[fe-semi-decent-scenarios]

Oh my gosh I love your Ashe x reader! So wholesome 💝 could I get a one-shot of Ashe and the reader where the reader asks him to have tea time with her, and she puts so much effort into the tea and snacks in order to confess to him?

[Hello! sorry that this request took some time. I’ve recently gotten into watching ‘The Great British Baking Show,’ and now I find myself learning how to make tarts vs. doing anything productive lol. On the bright side I learned how to make a gnash icing! I did my best with this one, and it’s a bit lengthy to make up for the wait. I wrote it from s/o’s p.o.v because somehow that just happened(I normally don’t opt. for first person). It’s not my best work, but I hope you like it!]

Ashe Ubert x Reader: {Tea over Troubles}

Premise: Much has happened in the short time you’ve spent at the monastery. One thing in-particular being a snag in your heart for a certain freckle faced sweetheart. Being the tongue-tied romantic you are, can some evening snacks smooth over an otherwise awkward confession?

“I’ll take one bag of mint brew please,” I said while reaching into my pocket. It was rather early in the morning, so the market was only just opening. Not too often do I show up around here before noon because of classes, but today is an exception. At my voice the shopkeeper tipped his hat at me in a greeting, before sifting through his wares.

“Sure thing. That’ll be 300 gold,” He said and pulled out a small sack. I took it gratefully and handed him the desired amount. It’s a bit pricier than what I usually go for, but on special occasions money is not something to mull over. In the distance the monastery clock chimed to signal the start of class, and I hurriedly shoved the sack into my bag.

“Thank you! I’ll be around next week for my order of Almyran pine,” I toss him a wave before leaving, and in turn the man does the same. Though next week I hopefully won’t have to visit at such an ungodly hour.

By the time I arrive class had already started. Professor Byleth stood stark in front of the chalk board, and it appeared that they were in the middle of a lesson on trajectory for the long-range fighters in our group. While their back was turned, I took the opportunity to slowly creep into the room. The door creaked just a smidge, drawing a few of my peers' attention. Felix glares my way but that’s no shock. What better thing could he do with his time then judge me? Luckily, I sit second from the back next to Sylvain. Reaching it undetected goes well enough. Though said tablemate is a chatterbox who’s laugh cost all my stealth points.

“You’re late (Y/N), this is unlike you,” The professor said. Sylvain’s snorty laugh drew their attention. It seemed that as I tried to calm my seatmate down, they maneuvered to stand in front of our table. Not the best situation to be caught in.

“I’m so sorry professor. I couldn’t find my books this morning,” I lied. Not an obvious one, but my tense posture might be a giveaway. If it was, they didn’t seem to care.

“I see, just try not to let it happen again,” They said and left me no room to reply before returning to the board. As if a puppeteer let go of my string my posture slumped, and from my side came a nudge. I ignore it only for Sylvain to wrap one of his arms over my shoulder. Across the room Ingrid lets out an irritated sigh; at least with me he won’t leave a mess for her to clean up. That poor girl.

“So…where were you really,” He pressed his face closer to my own, and from the corner of my eye I could see that cocky smirk of his.

“In my room?” I said, playing dumb.

“Do you expect me to believe that?” He said, but then his eyes widened a fraction “don’t tell me you were seeing someone? Now this is good,” his tone dropped an octave at the end. Utter mortification overtook my features, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes in disgust. All that did for him was solidify his theory.

“Could you get your mind out of the gutter?!” I snapped, but then remembered where we were “Honestly, Sylvain. Nock it off,” I whisper while pulling away entirely. He then shrugs his shoulders and turns back to face the board.

“My mind is exactly where it should- Ow!” His shriek startled me, and despite my own interests I join him in inspecting behind us. As Sylvain rubs the back of his head all I can do is assume someone flicked him. Maybe threw something? Alright then, the pencil on the floor supports the second option.

“Now what was that for?” He asked the two behind us. Ashe looked up from his textbook with one eyebrow quirked. He questioned what Sylvain meant, while at his side Annette clearly had a guilty conscience as she twiddled with the hems of her sleeves. That’s when I had to hold back my own smile. If Ashe knows nothing, then what could he have been reading from an upside-down textbook?

“Focus you two! This is important,” The professor cuts the interaction short, and when Sylvain turns, I can’t help but catch Ashe’s shoulders slump. How cute.

As usual the professor’s malicious lessons wear us all dry. By the end of the day we’re all like savages scouring for fresh game to cook up. Well, not exactly. We just need a few hours of sleep and maybe a glass of water. The only one of us who’s still fully attentive at this hour is Dedue. It’s…a bit unnerving how he can go so long with perfect posture.

“Class is dismissed. Remember that we have a mock battle next week, so be sure to brush up on formation placement for when I’m not there to guide you,” The professor concludes our lesson, and with a wave of the wrist people begin to file out. I wave goodbye to those sitting near me, and instead approach the professor’s pew. They glance up from the papers they’re reading and signal me to speak.

“Excuse me, Professor. Can I have a moment of your time for a personal issue?” I ask, and they place the papers down.

“I assume this has to do with why you were late today,” I nod.

“Alright, go on”

“Well, as you know things have been a bit rough for Ashe since the incident with the western church. I wanted to cheer him up, so I went out this morning to buy his favorite tea. I also wanted to get him something nice to eat…but I don’t know what he might like,” My words come out rushed and a bit uneven. The professor looks at me as if to say, ‘now how does this involve me?’ and I shakily move to tuck any hair stragglers behind my ear. Yeah, that surly couldn’t have made my feelings more obvious. I’m just a mastermind with words, aren’t I?

“You eat meals with him often after training, right? Any ideas?” I elaborate, and for a moment they pause to think.

“Sweet bread. He orders it often as a dessert,” They said, and give me an encouraging pat on the shoulder. With a large grin I snatch up my schoolbag and bid them farewell. The professor may not be the most expressive person, but that doesn’t mean they’re not supportive.

“Thank you, professor!”

After that catastrophe I began to make my way towards the mess hall. If luck is on my side, then the chefs won’t have any issue loaning out the kitchen to me for a few hours later this evening. As I walk the greenhouse comes into view, and perhaps it was a sign. What better way to cheer someone up than with flowers? With that in mind I change my course with a skip in my step and enter the garden in hopes of crafting a small bouquet. Though instead I’m met with a pleasant surprise.

“Ashe, Dedue! Fancy meeting you here,” I approach the duo, who are harvesting out of the vegetable gardens. At my presence Ashe jolts, and nearly drops the basket he was holding. Dedue was quick to respond and steadied him easily.

“O-oh! (Y/N) don’t do that, you nearly scared the wits out of me,” Ashe puts his free arm to his chest with a relieved sigh, and I can’t help but giggle. I nearly forgot he was the easily startled type; my bad.

“Haha I’m sorry guys. I hope that I’m not interrupting, just a few minutes and I’ll be out of your hair,” I said, and bypassed them to peruse the flora section of the garden. It was hard to pick out a distinct aroma, as the mass amount of plants seemed to overtake the room with the scent of wet soil. Someone must have watered recently.  

“There is no need to rush. We are only collecting morfis plums for the head chef,” Dedue said, and continued to fill the basket Ashe was carrying.

“Dedue is right. Please, take your time,” Ashe said as well; once the basket was full, he began to carry it to the exit. As he walked, I noticed small patches of dirt littered over his uniform.

“That seems to be enough. Thank you for your help Dedue, I can deliver them from here,” He opened the door, and waved goodbye to the both of us before taking his leave. With every step small bits of dirt fell onto the floor in his wake.

“Then I will take my leave as well. Goodbye (Y/N),” Dedue moved to follow, but hastily I called out to him.

“Dedue hang on one moment!” He halted but did not turn away from the door.

“Yes?”

“I know this is kind of sudden, but do you perhaps know what Ashe’s favorite flower is? I wanted to prepare him a present,” I said a bit softer than before. Just as the professor did, he paused in thought. Then he pointed to the small bed of violets planted in the corner.

“Hm. I do not know, but I am under the belief that he prefers violets,” I couldn’t suppress my urge to hug him, so I did. I gave him a swift side squeeze and ran over to crouch by the blooms. Just a few in a vase would be perfect!

“Dedue you are the best! Just…don’t tell him that I’m doing this? Please?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder to meet his eyes. He remained expressionless as usual, but I could still hear the amusement in his voice.

“There is no benefit in ruining a surprise. I will not speak of it,” He bowed, and then dismissed himself.  

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ then” I cheered, “bye! Thanks again Dedue,”

That evening had been spent productively, and by ‘productively’ I mean ‘making multiple sweet breads till one came edible’. It turns out that baking bread wasn’t as easy as it sounded, and that the chefs really don’t like when you make a calamity of their kitchen. After endless attempts I did manage to make something of…substance? If anything, Ashe will have a good laugh from it. By the end of the night there was flour lodged in places that I honestly didn’t know it could reach. The time from cleaning the kitchen to arriving at my room remains a blur, but the fresh loaf stored on my desk makes it all worth it.

When I manage to clean myself up for class, I arrive to see a bit of a twist on the normal set-up. Where I’d normally find my lover-boy classmate sat Ashe, and next to Anette was the missing flirt in question. They spoke idle chatter while waiting for the professor to arrive, so instead of interrupting I advanced towards my seat. With a newfound morning wind, I pulled out my usual chair.

“Hey, I didn’t hear anything about a new seating arrangement,” I spoke out to no one, but when I sat down Ashe turned towards my way. His hair appeared tamed for once and after catching my gaze he moved to comb it back with his hand. As I’ve said before: too cute.

“Good morning, the professor thought it would be a nice change of pace,” he said, a bit too cheery for this early, “I uhm…hope that it’s no issue?”

“Issue? You mean blessing. Now I can focus without Sylvain chatting my ear off” I leaned against the desk in hopes of getting more comfortable. At my dismissal of the new yet welcome change, he moved to unpack his things. Had he really waited to see if I was in favor of this?

“That’s very true. I’m also glad that we share a table now. I like having you as my partner,” a pause, a recollection, and then panic, “I-I mean for w-work! Partner for work!” His voice became more of a squeak as he moved to correct himself. From behind me Sylvain kicked at my ankles, without a doubt congratulating me on flustering the boy. As Ashe continued to scramble for his dignity, my head began to feel a bit heavy on my palm. Staying up into the morning hours wasn’t one of my brightest ideas, but what’s done is done.

“Say…are you alright? You seem out of it,” Placing the last of his things on his desk, Ashe turned to face me. It’s only normal that he’d ask, given my appearance and his caring nature. With a small smile, I attempted to shoo away his concern.

“Just didn’t sleep well, it’s fine. Would you maybe like to hang out later during free hour? You know, take a break from school for a bit,” Changing the topic was a good move considering how his face lit up. All remise of concern wiped away in favor of his face going flush.

“If it would help you feel better than I would love to,” he eagerly replied, “N-not to say that I would say ‘no’ otherwise. I’ll just be quiet now” Perhaps confessing isn’t as difficult as others make it seem. If he gets excited over simply spending time together, than tonight might cause him to collapse.

After dinner had been over with, I set my sights on assuring that everything was set and ready. The rooms that the monastery provided for its students were small but shouldn’t be too cramped if it’s only two people. Unfortunately, being fancy wasn’t a luxury I could afford, and the plain table I had borrowed from the infirmary made me feel small. After some searching, I decided to use an old shawl as a makeshift tablecloth and placed the vase of violets on the center. After slicing the loaf and plating the bread, I made quick work of seeping the tea. It wasn’t as decorative as what we see in the mess hall, but it’s the thought that counts. With not much time left I swiftly attempted to fix my hair, but a soft knocking cut it short.

“(Y/N)? It’s Ashe,” Ashe spoke from the other side. In a panic I looked for a comb, but alas luck was not on my side.

“Coming!” I moved to open the door, but paused at the last second, “Hey, could you maybe, not face the door when I open it?” I asked, and Ashe’s confusion came through the door just fine despite not being able to see him.

“Uhm, sure? Can I ask why?” His voice came apprehensive.

“Just do it please” I said, and soon came shuffling from the other side of the door. With a quick glance back to assure everything was set, I cracked the door open to make sure he followed directions. Just as expected he faced the other way. His hands locked together behind his back, making his unease apparent. Cautiously I reached to cover his eyes with my hands, and despite jolting in surprise he did not pull away.

“W-what are you doing? (Y/N), is that you?” He moved to place his hands over my own, ushering me to slowly pull him backwards in a rush. Although it was clumsily, he still followed. His hands were clammy against mine, yet my condition was no better. Next to the chill night air my rose-tinted cheeks burned noticeably.

“Yes, yes” I whispered in anticipation and turned him to face the table, “Now open!”

Once he caught sight of the room it was as if he glowed. In all honesty this is possibly the first time I have seen him this happy, which made all the effort worth the prize. One step at a time he approached the table with the cheesiest grin stretching his cheeks. After a moment he reached to delicately pluck a flower from the vase.

“Oh my- what’s all this for?” He asked, lifting the violet to his nose. As he did so I maneuvered my way to serve the tea.

“For you of course” I said, handing him a now filled cup and pulling out one of the seats. He sat down obediently, much to my delight. He placed the flower back in the vase as I took my seat across the table.

“M-me?” He lifted the cup to take a sip, only to pause with it hovering near his face “I love this scent…” As he took in the scenery, I took the liberty of pouring my own cup. One look at his face gave away how touched he was, which meant that my plan was a success. Slowly he lifted the cup to his lips and contently hummed with closed eyes.

“I know you do. I did a bit of detective work in hopes you’d like it,” I said, and nudged the plate of sweetbread closer to him. He reached out to take it hesitantly. Perhaps all this made him uncomfortable? A bit pushy? As he placed the plate in front of him Ashe’s eyes seemed to dart across the room, eyeing at anything and everything not in my general direction.

“I don’t know what to say…” He said, finally looking my way “You’ve gone to all this trouble and I have nothing to give” He once again moved to pick a violet. The sight was…charming to say the least. I could only offer a supportive chuckle in response. What else could you do when laying your heart bare.

“Then don’t say anything,” With one final breath, I placed the now empty cup back on its saucer. His own gaze seemed ignorant of what was going on: unreadable. Perhaps that was a good thing; better to go in blind than already know the outcome.

“Ashe, I care about you. I want you to be happy, and I know this can’t undo all the hardship that you have had to face” Silence. With a shaky sigh I steeled myself for the worst, “But, when I thought of what I could do this is what came up. I’m no deity, but I figured this is something in my power” Good enough. As I spoke my eyes shut to gather some courage, but in the long run it was ineffective. From Ashe came no answer, not even a peep. All I could do was steel myself for rejection…until a warm hand encased my own. I peered my eyes open to see that my grip on the teacup had intensified, and two calloused hands worked to sooth my tense disposition.

“Thank you. I can say from the bottom of my heart that this makes me feel-well, loved...” One hand moved to cup my chin and lead my gaze to meet two puffy green eyes. Had he been crying?

“I’m trying to find the right words but it’s so hard,” his forehead inched to lean against my own. His eyes fluttered shut, and ever small detail from the laugh lines decorating his forehead to the minuscule healing scrap along his cheek became apparent.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I care about you, ever so much” he breathed out, and I could feel my own tears begin to streak down my cheeks. With a slight tilt I leaned in to peck his nose, something he wasn’t expecting clearly. His eyes peered to gaze into my own, and before I knew I was smiling.  

“In a romantic way?” I asked teasingly, reaching up to hold the hand he settled on my cheek.

“Yes, very much so”

[your-worst-knightmare]

Operation Get Out of Marriage

Jaytemis Week Day 3: Arranged Marriage

Ao3 Link

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Night had settled upon the gardens of Wayne Manor, blanketing the sky in her quiet embrace. Jason stood and watched form his balcony, his mind still racing from his father’s dumbfounding speech. The serene bubbling of the fountains should have quelled his anxiety as he’d hoped, but it seemed to do nary a thing.

The head of Wayne Manor had called Jason into his study to talk. That was bad news in itself, as dear old dad wasn’t known for setting aside time for friendly conversation with his sons. Deep down, Jason had always known that conversation was bound to happen in some way or another. Still, it didn’t make the news seem any less like a blow to the face.

Bruce’s words still rang clearly in his ears. “I have made an alliance with Themyscira and we have decided that a union is in order to strengthen our bond. You will be meeting your betrothed tomorrow. I expect you to do your part.”

Jason was left to stare at Bruce, gaping like a fish. Betrothed? To a woman he’d never met, from a nation whose culture he knew next to nothing about, without either his or his betrothed’s consent. An alliance with Themyscira was certainly nothing to sneeze at, and Bruce always had been politically inclined, but would he do this to Jason? To his own son? Several seconds passed in silence and Jason knew the answer was yes.

He huffed in annoyance. Bruce was a jerk. A powerful, wealthy, influential jerk at that. Marrying your son off at nineteen to solidify your own political career only proved that further. Jason tried, tried so hard to be the perfect son, but all Bruce saw him as was a tool. Jason’s gaze hardened. To hell with Bruce. To hell with his political career. If Bruce wasn’t going to love him as a father should, then Jason wasn’t going to exhaust himself trying to earn his affections.

A wonderful idea sprung up in Jason’s mind. What if he just left? Abandoned this mess to live on a livelihood of his own making. The idea sounded appetizing. But what about his bride-to-be? She was likely in a very similar situation. He thought for a moment. No, he didn’t have time to worry about coercing this faceless woman into abandoning a life of luxury with him. There was too much risk. He could live with his disappearance being a one-man show.

Jason retired to his chambers a little too smugly. He’d play the part of the perfect son for the next few days before requesting to take his betrothed on a private outing. Then, under the cover of night, he could sneak out and vanish, free to live the life he wished. Jason smiled. It was all coming together beautifully. He’d need to begin preparing as soon as possible.

_____________________________

“I do not require your help,” Artemis snapped, swatting away the pilot’s hand that had been so generously offered to her. As constricting as the dress she wore was, she could manage herself. The fashion of Man’s World was ridiculous, but Diana had insisted that she get used to the style, seeing as she was marrying the son of the most influential man in Gotham. How insufferable.

Her betrothed– Jason– had greeted her at the runway. Artemis resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Loverboy had to come to see her as soon as she got off the plane. Outwardly, she attributed her foul mood to her intolerable dress and the fatigue of travel. However, perhaps since she’d been miserable since the news of her marriage was broken to her, she had been lying to herself. She knew for a fact that she did not want to be married, but she’d promised herself that she was not to do anything rash. So, as her betrothed talked up a storm of saying nothing, she set to work devising a plan.

Jason was polite as far as suitors went, but Artemis didn’t particularly care for his mask of grandeur that he hid behind. All of his words seemed rehearsed, all his questioned practiced.

“Your dress looks very beautiful, your Highness. Good craftsmanship is so hard to come by nowadays.”

It took all of Artemis’ will to not bite out a snarky ‘Thanks, I hate it.’ “Why thank you, Jason. Of course, I would settle for nothing less.” If he was going to play a game of propriety, Artemis was going to beat him at it.

He nodded politely. “Well, I was thinking that we should get to know each other better. My father owns a vacation home off the coast and I hoped we might spend a few days there.” His mask broke– if only for a second, a look of nervousness flashing over his face before disappearing.

It surprised her, as brief as it was. Artemis sensed that not everything was as it seemed with her betrothed. She covered her thoughts with a smile. “ That does sound like a good idea. Tell me, when do you plan to depart?”

“In three days’ time, if you don’t mind the short notice.” He smiled at her again, and Artemis couldn’t believe how fake it was. He may as well draw one on his face for a chance at being more genuine.

“Oh no, I don’t mind at all.” An idea began to flower in her mind, one that would further both her and Diana’s agendas. She would let the union take place and then her husband would fall ill under mysterious circumstances. To keep the alliance, she would remain “faithful” and wheedle her way back to Themyscira where she could live like none of this ever happened. It was nothing personal. This private outing presented a perfect opportunity to gather intelligence for her plan. “You will find I can be quite spontaneous.”

______________________

Jason had one goal: to make it through the night. The simple task seemed to become increasingly difficult as he realized that Artemis would stand no amount of small talk any longer. His scripted responses from the day they met simply wouldn’t work here. It didn’t help that he kept tripping over his words either.  Now he didn’t just look like a rich jerk, but an idiot rich jerk. Great.

“Do you want to get some ice cream? I heard that Princess Diana likes it and I thought... well, I’m not saying I think you’re all the same but–”

Artemis held a finger up for silence. “It’s fine. I am going to pretend I didn’t hear any of your rambling, but yes, I would like ice cream.” The Amazon shrugged. “Besides, I should get used to your food seeing as I am to be your wife and all,” she deadpanned.

Jason felt a blush creeping up his neck. “Uh, yeah..., sure. “ God, why was he such an idiot? Maybe if he started a coherent conversation, this would all go away. He followed Artemis as she walked, trying to think of something to say. “So, uh, can I ask you a question?”

Artemis continued walking. “You may.”

“Did you have any say in this union? Between us I mean.”

She paused. “No. I was training in Bhana-Mighdall until I was whisked away to Man’s World one day without notice. Sometimes I wake up and forget I’m not in Themyscira anymore,” Artemis whispered, her tone full of longing. She turned to him. “What about you? Regale me with the tale of how you scored yourself a wife at nineteen without trying.”

Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I was in a very similar situation as you. I didn’t know anything until a day before I met you. I didn’t want to marry you.” God, that came out wrong. “Uh, I mean, you’re really nice and beautiful and all, but I just don’t think I’m ready,” he quickly amended.

Artemis smirked. That was a win, right? She placed on hand on his shoulder and Jason froze. “That was very cute, Jason. Truthfully, I find myself agreeing with you. But, we’re doing this for our families, and as mindless as they are, they’re the only ones we’ve got.

And I supposed that since we will be seeing each other more often, it seems fit that I make this request of you.”

“And that is?”

“Don’t hide behind your mask of propriety, I must say, I find this you, awkward as you may be, much more endearing.” She patted his arm, walking ahead. “Now come on, we can’t leave our ice cream waiting.”

A smile tugged on Jason’s mouth. Her honesty was certainly refreshing. He had to admit, he would be at least a little sorry to leave her without any notice. She was nice and she really did deserve better. But, a plan was a plan, and he wouldn’t crumble over one conversation.

_________________________

Artemis lay in bed, wide awake and reminiscing the night she had just spent with her betrothed. He was certainly much nicer than she’d originally thought, though she didn’t care to admit it. She didn’t exactly have any plans to get attached anyway. The union would happen soon, she was sure, and she wouldn’t have to wait long to carry out her plan.

Her gut twinged at the thought. The plan. It wasn’t as drastic as anyone dying, but she would still feel guilty nonetheless. Jason didn’t do anything to deserve it. He was just as much of a pawn as she was. Was that... sympathy? Artemis didn’t exactly know. She decided to leave the thought. Jason was nice, that was that, and she would think about how she felt later.

A paper rustled as it slid under her door. Most likely from Jason. She had half a mind to leave it, as she didn’t want to encourage any of his advances if she was going to follow through with her plan. It was better if he thought her indifferent. False hope was a very cruel thing.

After half an hour, her will crumbled and curiosity got the better of her. Artemis figured that there was no harm in simply reading his note. She picked up the note gingerly.

Or rather a letter would be a more appropriate term. It was handwritten, if hastily, but Artemis appreciated the time taken to do so. However, as she read, her chest swirled with a disorienting array of emotions. It began simply:

‘Artemis, When I was told that I was to be married off to some princess, I expected to meet an immature, snobbish girl. Instead, I met you; an intelligent, elegant, calculating woman who happily proved all my expectations false. I have greatly enjoyed your company over the small amount of time that we’ve been together, and that has somewhat compelled me to write this. I feel that I am obligated to because I would personally feel guilty leaving you without the full story. I find myself partially grateful to my father for introducing us, but I do not think I can live under his will any longer. I am leaving to live my own life, under my own rules. I hope this also gives you the opportunity to return to Themyscira to continue your studies and training. Although I am leaving this life behind, I do not want to abandon contact with you. You will find a burner phone in my room with my number if you wish to stay in touch. -J’

Artemis threw down the letter, dazed. So he’d gotten to his escape plan first. It was quite idiotic, and would most likely never work, but at least it didn’t involve anyone falling ill.

But still. Stupid.

With a calmness that was unproportionate to the situation, Artemis made her way to Jason’s room and dialed. To her surprise, he actually picked up.

“You are such an idiot,” was the first thing that tumbled out of her mouth.

“You read my letter?” Jason asked quietly.

“Yes. It seems you got to your ‘Operation get Out of Marriage’ before I did.” She laughed. “I’m glad you did. Your plan was much better.”

“Oh. Can I ask what yours was?”

“It involved having an invalid for a husband. It would have never worked.”

“Why?”

I like you too much for that.”

Jason went silent for a moment. “If I carried through with my plan, what would happen to you?”

The Amazon sighed. “I suppose I’d be married off again to some other poor soul.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Tell me,” Artemis looked down at her fingers. “If we went through with your father’s plan, what would you do?”

“I don��t know. Be a pawn for the rest of my life?”

“Alright, and what would you do once you’ve carried out your own plan?”

Jason snorted.“Are you trying to make me admit that I haven’t thought this through?”

“Yes,” Artemis replied smugly.”I think I have an alternative plan that would work in all of our favours.”

__________________________

The wedding was extravagant. For all of his faults, Bruce certainly knew how to throw a party. Red and white flowers adorned the venue, most likely making the air hell for anyone with pollen allergies, Jason chuckled to himself. He didn’t know how he felt knowing that so much time and money went to waste on this opulent event. But what Jason lacked in interest for the event, the press more than made up for it.

They were everywhere, following every little detail A small part of Jason was glad for that. It would allow his and Artemis’ new and improved plan to run much more smoothly.

The event dragged on painfully slowly. There were speeches, private interviews, food, all before the ceremony actually took place. Jason felt like he would fall asleep if this went on any slower. But finally, the host said the magic words Jason had been waiting all day for.

‘And now, may I present the bride and the groom!”

Music blared and the gargantuan doors of the chapel swung open. There was nobody behind them. The host nervously repeated himself. Nobody. And again. Still, neither bride nor groom had appeared.

Before the host could get any more flustered, a young man ran out of the audience to deliver a note to him. He took a moment to calm his nerves before he began reading.

‘Dear Honoured Guests, By now you may be wondering where we, the bride and groom are. We are pleased to say that are safe and simply not attending out of our own free will. While we are delighted about the alliance between our peoples, we do not feel that we are suited to the lives of diplomats. As a result, we have decided to step back from our families’ political affairs. We do not wish for the alliance to be dissolved, however, we will no longer be associated with our inherited power. Thank you for attending and we wish you all a cordial evening. -Jason Wayne and Artemis Grace’

The venue erupted into chaos, with guests gasping at the scandal of it all and reporters trying to uncover more of the developing story.

Hundreds of miles away, Jason smirked from atop his comfortable lounge in his private penthouse. He turned away from the TV to face Artemis, who lay beside him on the couch. “So how do you think this plan turned out?”

It was rewarding to see her face lit up with that bright grin. She motioned to the screen where Bruce’s face was starting to rival the looks of a tomato. “I think this was our best yet.”

Jason switched off the TV. “I have a better one.”

“Oh. And that is?”

Fighting the grin off his face was a losing battle. “Ice cream.”

[ffwriter2018]

Unspoken Dreams

Alex and Kelly have been together for a while. They talked about their future together, both wanting to get married and have kids.

This weekend Kelly was going to propose to Alex. They had this trip planned for a while. A trip just the two of them out of the city. Neither one having to worry or stress about work.

The penthouse they rented was on the beach with a perfect view. Kelly had recently found out a little bit of a secret ofAlex from Kara. Alex loved sunsets and sunrises. Kara told Kelly how when they were younger Alex said.

“Watching a sunset or sunrise with the right person would be the perfect beginning or ending to a day.” After that conversation Kelly knew that’s how she was going to propose to the love of her life.

The couple had finally settled into the penthouse both exhausted from their hectic week. They decided their first night they would just stay in ,go for a swim and get to bed early.

They laid on the couch to watch a movie and that’s when Kelly had a thought. Thankfully Alex had fallen asleep first so Kelly texted Kara to bounce ideas off of. To say Kara was excited was an understatement.

Kelly was thankful that Kara was willing to help out. There was no way she would of been able to get everything together in under 24hrs. Especially with their adventure tomorrow. Once Kelly had finished texting Kara she just looked at the women who feel asleep laying her head on her lap. She could not help the smile that instantly took over her face.

The next morning they both enjoyed not having to wake up early for work. Alex spoke her voice raspy from just waking up. “I could get used to this. Waking up with you here. No reason to rush around, no stress or work.Just you me and that beautiful view.” Alex kisses the top of Kelly’s head.

Kelly looks up “Ditto.” is all she says with a big smirk. Silently freaking out because this is the day this women will hopefully become her fiancé. Alex just smiles back at Kelly’s response. Ever since their first kiss that word has been their little thing.

Their day was filled with new adventures. First thing was a private surfing lesson. Kelly picked it up quicker while Alex had a harder time. Kelly sat there watching Alex try and stand up time and time again. Kelly melted when she saw Alex’s face once she finally stood on the board and caught a wave.

That feeling was amplified when Alex paddled over to her so excited she accidentally knocked Kelly off the board. Neither could stop laughing until Kelly pulled Alex in to a kiss. Once they pulled apart Alex said.

“That’s what I swam over here to do. I didn’t want to knock you off I just wanted a kiss!” Both women laughed. After thanking their instructor they headed back to their place to clean up before going out to sightsee.

While Alex was showering Kelly was able to call Kara to finalize the last details. The perks of having Kara help is that she’s probably the only person who knows Alex the best. She can help put together all of Kelly’s ideas.Kelly trusted Kara and knew this evening would be extremely memorable.

Kelly was sitting there thinking about how she got a second chance at love when Alex walked out. She couldn’t take her eyes off of Alex. Alex walked over to Kelly which made her refocus. “Hi there. You ready to go.” Alex smirked while holding her hand out to Kelly.

It took Kelly a minute to form a sentence. “Umm yea. I- I am.” It took a minute for her to get her thoughts back on track. She looked at Alex who was shyly standing there with a smile. “Sorry you just look...Wow.” She leans in giving her a kiss.

When the kiss ends Alex’s leans away with a sly smirk. Leans back slightly gives Kelly a little peck and whispers “Ditto.” Alex turns and walks away satisfied at a stunned Kelly. Alex walks over to leave the bedroom when she calls over her shoulder laughing. “Come on we don’t want to be late.”

Durning dinner Kelly is a ball of emotions. She’s trying to focus on dinner but her mind is going ahead to tonight. Wondering if Kara is setting it all up, how it looks. Alex notices Kelly seems a little worried. She didn’t want to ask but she does.

“Babe you okay? You seem anxious.” Alex reaches over and holds Kelly’s hand. She instantly feels her relax. Kelly melts yes she tries to hide her feeling but her love always knows. It’s not a lie when Kelly says she’s fine. She’s fine but also very anxious.

Their dinner goes smoothly and the food was delicious. While Alex goes to freshen up in the bathroom Kelly uses this opportunity to call Kara one final

time. Their call is short she’s reassured everything is perfect and there is also something special for her.Kelly checked her phone and sunset was in about 45 minutes. Giving her the perfect amount of time to walk back to the penthouse and propose as the sunsets.

On their walk back it is a comfortable silence. While Kelly is freaking out Alex is oblivious to what is going to happen in the next half hour. Once they are off the elevator and heading to their door Kelly abruptly stops startling Alex.

“So I have something special set up inside. Before we go in can you put this on.” Kelly carefully pulls an eye mask out from her clutch holding it out. Alex is confused but slowly takes the mask. Kelly laughs “It’s okay nothing is going to jump out or scare you. Trust me?” Kelly hold her hand palm side up. “Always.” Alex puts the mask on and takes Kelly’s hand.

Kelly opens the door and the place is dark except from the lights on the balcony. Kelly slips out of her shoes instructing Alex to do the same. As quietly as she can she opens the draw that’s near the door that has the box with the ring.

Walking to the balcony Kelly gasps. This is better than she could ever dream of. The floor leading outside was covered with rose petals. String light hung all around hanging from the ceiling. Candle were lit on the little tables and a heart shaped on the floor. There was a note for Kelly from Kara that read.

“Say the words earth, wind, and fire kinda loudly after you get engaged.It’s part of my gift to you both.” Kelly was a little bit confused but smiled. She hoped she knew because there was one thing she forgot to set up. Photos to be taken of tonight. She would always remember but she wanted to be able to physically be able to look back.

Kelly carefully walked her and Alex into the candle lit heart shape on the floor. “Okay we stopped so can I take off the eye mask now? Alex asked Kelly knew how impatient she could get. Kelly laughed “Yes but please please keep your eyes closed when you do Ok?” Kelly asked. Alex nodded Kelly looked over to her right and the sun was even with the horizon.

Kelly took a deep breath and told Alex to open her eyes. Alex gasped loudly looking directly at Kelly. After a few second she looked to her left and saw the sunset then turned directly back to Kelly with so much love. Kelly placed the ring box right next to her so she could hold Alex’s hands.

“When we first met we both were at a crossroad in our life’s. As the days went on we developed a friendship. You were there for me at a time nobody else could even understand. Our respect and understanding of each other was like nothing I’ve ever seen. Especially for two people who met only weeks ago.” Kelly just smiled and wiped a tear that fell onto Alex’s cheek.

“When you said that you and I were alike in the way we care more about others than ourselves. That was the moment my brain caught up with my heart in that I really freaking like-like you.” They both laughed thinking about how Alex had said that to Kelly early in their relationship.

“You trusted me enough to go on that trip with you. You trusted me enough to be there for and to support you. On one of your toughest days when you could of shut me out you didn’t. The strength you exuded in that emotional time was awe inspiring. I was moved by your resilience.” Kelly looked down at their hands and squeezed them before continuing.

“That night while we were walking to J’onn’s place I was so nervous. I felt a shift in our friendship. I was afraid my feelings were one sided but I kept them in long enough. Boy am I so glad that I finally told you. When we first kissed it solidified my thoughts of I knew you were my last first kiss. From that moment on I’ve been yours. I wanna be with you today tomorrow and forever.”

“I want to do everything with you. The wedding, the house, the animals. I want to watch our kids grow up. I want to watch their school performances together while we cry. I want to see them get a black belt in karate.” Kelly reaches down and picks up the box.

“So right here right now. In front of the beautiful view of the sunset. I want to ask my beautiful girlfriend to be my wife.” Kelly gets down on one knee opens the box and asks “ Alexandra Danvers will you continue to make me the happiest person in this universe and Marry Me?” Alex is crying she can’t get any words out so she just nods her head yes furiously. She pulls Kelly up holds her face and she kisses her.

Every emotion Alex was feeling that she couldn’t verbally express she was trying to convey into the kiss. She pulls back. “Yes-yes I will marry you.” Kelly places the ring on Alex’s finger gives her hand a kiss then gives her fiancé another kiss. They stand there for a few minutes either wiping each other’s tears or giving each other a kiss before Kelly speaks up she’s just holding Alex from behind looking out at the sun finally about to disappear.

“We’re you surprised? Kelly tilts her head to see Alex looking out ahead.

At first Alex just nods. Then asks. “How did you know? Or did you not know? That this that just happened being proposed to during a sunset was like an unspoken dream.” Alex turned around in Kelly’s arms smiling.

“I didn’t know at first that this was something you had dreamt of. I didn’t even know how much you really loved sunsets and sunrises. Until I had a talk with someone who knows and loves you very much.” Kelly and Alex both smile. Alex knowing instantly it was her sister.

“At game night like a few weeks back Kara and I were talking about the view from up high.”Alex smiled and nodded knowing exactly what she meant. “She told me what you said when you were younger about how sunsets and sunrises with the right person would be the perfect beginning or ending of a day. So when I realized we had a view of the ocean this was the week I would propose.” Kelly moved a piece of hair back behind Alex’s ear.

“I love you so much. Sometimes it hurts with how much love I have for you. I don’t fully have enough words to process everything but I do know that I can’t wait to end every night with you and start every morning with you.” Alex is genuinely baffled.

“How did you manage to do all of this. It wasn’t like this when we left for dinner. You and I have been together all night?” Alex asked.

“Well there is only one person that I could trust to make this special for you. Even if I wasn’t here to help set up. This one person also happens to have superpowers, which was a life savor.” Kelly smiles at Alex’s reaction knowing her sister helped and knew.

“Kara, she helped you set this up?” Alex more stated it than asked. Kelly only nodded.

“She also left me this note.” Kelly hands it to Alex. “I’m afraid to say the words who knows what kind of gift she would give.” Alex said knowing her sister anything could happen. The newly engaged couple say the words. They wait a few before there is a knock at the main door and Kara comes in.

Kara meets the couple at the balcony door she is crying which makes Alex cry. Alex goes over to Kara and gives her a tight and long hug. Kara looks over Alex’s shoulder smiling at Kelly . Kelly whispers knowing Kara could hear “Thank you so much for all of this.” Kara let’s go of Alex and does a little dance going to give Kelly a hug.

Once they end the hug Kara fills the couple in on her gift. “So there was one thing we didn’t talk about when we were setting this up. I wanted to be able to capture that moment for you. So I had set up a camera over there. It snapped a photo every 5 seconds. That way you would have pictures to always look back on.” Kara is engulfed in a hug by Kelly.

“Oh thank god. It dawned on me when I was reading the note you left that it was the one thing I forgot.Thank you.” Kelly laughed extremely relieved. ”No problem. I am so happy for you both. I love you both so much. I am grateful that you included me in helping you surprise my sister.” Kara spoke softly. “I will let you two enjoy the rest of your weekend away. I’ll see you both when you get back to the city.” Kara gives one last hug to the couple.

Kelly and Alex stand there just talking in the night sky. Both just embracing everything that happened. “How about we go inside and change. Then we can set up a bed out here. So we end our day together already seeing a sunset. That way we can watch the sunrise together starting a brand new day as fiancés.” Kelly suggests already knowing Alex’s response.“How do you always know the right things to say?” Alex asks.

Kelly just smiles taking Alex’s hand walking inside. She couldn’t wait to spend the rest of her life with Alex. One this she did know is that asking Alex to marry her was the most meaningful thing she’s ever done in her life. She’s spend everyday loving Alex and hopefully continue to surprise her.

[krisseycrystal]

rated: g

fandom: Steven Universe

prompt: “Protecting Someone You Love” + BisPearl (& Steven)

requested by: @moominquartz

i’ve been on an SU-love-fest i think alskdjflakjsdf trying to write as much as possible for this show that means so much to me now that it’s over i’m so sorry

HERE’S THE OTHER HALF OF THE REQUEST MY WONDERFUL HUSBAND @moominquartz GAVE ME !!! When he first said “write BisPearl” it was a tie between “Protecting Someone You Love” and “Competition” and I already did “Competition,” so now it’s time to finish the duet with “Protecting Someone You Love”

i got really sappy in this but shrug emoji what else is new. ENJOY

- o - o - o -

Instrumental [Read on AO3]

- o - o - o -

The broken stonework of the world bursts into dust and fragments around her. It settles on her tongue and sticks to her throat. Bismuth coughs and hacks to try to get it out, but time is passing strangely and she’s not in full control of her limbs. Reality has been cut and pasted into snippets that reel past too quickly. Consciousness slips in and out of her grasp. Everything seems as flimsy as clouds, which, for the record, is not proper for construction. She’s told the Morganites over and over again: you can’t build a castle on top of sand. Did they listen?

There are birds chirping, twittering, from far away. It tastes like morning. She has always liked the seasonal changes on Earth. Very fitting. 

Ivory keys dance along her shoulders and draw her into a slender chest. Someone is shouting.

Bismuth can’t make out the words. She thinks she wants to reach out to that voice. She thinks she ought to comfort them. She knows them.

“Just hang on!” 

A butterfly has latched onto her hand. It’s funny; she hadn’t even been aware she had a hand until it was held.

Wait. That’s kind of whack. Of course she has hands. How else does she—

“It’s cool,” she tells the butterfly. She lifts her hand to eye level.  “Hey, now. Y’don’t gotta panic. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

“Bismuth? W-what are you…?”

Light bursts into a towering column that swallows them whole. Bismuth’s vision is filled with an alarming clarity, accompanied by the soft popping chime of an activated warp pad, which seems pretty confusing at first, considering that means they’re leaving the place Bismuth thinks they should probably be at.

“Hey,” she tells the butterfly, “The fountain…” 

“Not now, Bismuth.” 

The butterfly lands on her shoulder again as their destination solidifies under their bodies. There’s a breath, another young voice she knows that shouts, “Pearl!” and a rustle of grass.

“Steven! Oh, thank goodness—”

“—It’s okay, Pearl! I got your text! I’m here. Is she—?”

“—yes, she’s a little…”

Bismuth can’t make out what the words that were supposed to follow are. She blinks slowly and the next time she looks, her perfect view of Earth’s blue, blue sky has been eclipsed by pink shoulders and black clouds. 

“Who put that floof there?” she mumbles and reaches up.

A salamander laughs and pushes her hand away before she can move back the black clouds. “Y-yeah, I see what you mean,” the salamander rumbles. He sucks in a sharp breath. “Oh, Bismuth…okay, here we go.” Then, something wet and warm and strange sets itself upon her gem. 

And there’s pink.

And pink.

And pink—

Bismuth gasps upright hard. Her hair flings forward over her face; she shoves it back with a broad hand and winces before she realizes she can’t feel any pain. She’s fine. She feels fine. Her eyes snap to her whole, unblemished gem.

“I—”

“Bismuth!” Pearl’s wobbly voice is her first warning before she’s encircled in thin, white arms. Pearl’s face presses into her shoulder. “Oh thank goodness you’re all right! I was so terrified after…”

“Pearl—” Bismuth’s laugh dries up the instant Pearl pulls back. 

That’s a scary look on her face Bismuth doesn’t think she’s ever seen before.

But Steven, on Bismuth’s other side—hey, she hasn’t seen him in a while; did he get his ears pierced?—winces as if he knows very well what that particular, specific turn of Pearl’s lips mean. “Oh boy,” he murmurs when Pearl opens her mouth.

“Bismuth.”

“P…Pearl?”

“Don’t you dare do that again.”

Clarity is a sharp mirror in Bismuth’s head, replaying the events preceding the wonkiness of the world. Bismuth sets her own mouth in an unhappy slant. 

Steven frets. “Uh, do what again? Guys?”

“I can’t promise you that.”

“Yes! You can! I can take care of myself, Bismuth. I have for millennia.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“When you pull stunts like—like that, you certainly seem to suggest—“ 

“—I was just trying to protect you!”

“And look what it did!” Pearl throws out her hand. “That fusion, whatever she called herself, Charoite? Whatever; she got away! And even worse than that: Rose’s fountain is now in ruins! Gallons of her healing tears, lost! It’s going to take ages for Steven to be able to replenish that, if he even can!”

“Uh, guys?”

Bismuth scowls. “It’s fine, isn’t it? I’ll fix it! It’ll look just as good as it did before. At least that’s something I’m good to have around for, anyway.” 

“What?!”

Pearl’s voice pitches high to a degree Bismuth hasn’t heard in centuries.

Bismuth and Steven’s gazes snap to her. Pearl’s brows are pinched tight on her face, peaking just below her gem. Her pale blues shine under the sunlight peeking through the canopy of leaves high above. She looks hurt and wounded, which is the strangest thing considering that last Bismuth checked, she had done everything she could to ensure that wouldn’t happen.

“Bismuth,” Pearl says and Bismuth has never quite heard her name sound like that before, like someone needed to say it, “this is exactly the problem.”

The sensation of a hand against her cheek is new. Pearl’s touch is gentle. Warm.

Steven’s face softens from worry to something else: something starry-eyed and open-mouthed as he watches them.

“How could you possibly think you matter so little to me?”

“W-what?”

“You honestly think I don’t want you around for more than fixing things? That you’re…”

Bismuth kind of feels like she wants to take back her words, now. Her face is burning, burning, burning. Her stomach has swooped. There’s embarrassment and something giddy rising in her chest all at once. She doesn’t know what to do with it. “Aw, geez, Pearl, nah. I didn’t mean to…”

“Don’t do that again.”

There’s something in the way Pearl’s voice shakes as she repeats her words. Something in the press of her fingers into the edge of Bismuth’s jaw.

Bismuth chuckles, low and quiet. She dips her head. “Pearl, you know I can’t promise you that.”

“No! I don’t know. Why not?”

Aw, stars. Is this the moment? Bismuth would be lying if she tried to say she hadn’t imagined over and over again how she’d confess the big, goopy mess inside her that’s feelings. She could have done big, grand, pre-planned gestures, or small, intimate ones. She always fancied making Pearl something, but could never decide what would be good enough. She never figured the opportune moment would be immediately post-almost making Pearl cry.

But then Pearl looks at her with those big eyes and all that concern and with all that grace in her and Bismuth thinks maybe, well, maybe she’s been thinking too much.

She would just really awfully like to hold her.

“Pearl, I—”

“—aw, just kiss already!”

The tinny voice echoes across the forest clearing, followed by shocked and indignant, “Amethyst!”

Amethyst’s voice cackles loudly from Steven’s phone as he hurriedly jams his thumb over the face of his screen. Just before it clicks off, Amethyst shouts out, “Hah! Hurry, Steve-O! Warp to the temple! Pearl still can’t get into my room; you’ll be safe here!” and Steven’s face is red red red. He stuffs both hands in the pockets of his jacket and shoots to his feet. Quick as he can, he bolts for the warp, shouting, “Sorry!”

The only one perhaps most off-color than all of them is Pearl. She stands, aghast, but by the time she reaches out, the warp pad chimes and a familiar, melodious pillar of light stretches to the sky. 

“Steven! Get back here!”

“For the record: it was Amethyst who video-called m—!” Steven’s voice is cut off before he can finish.

Pearl stares at the place she last saw his red flip flops against the top of the warp pad’s surface.

Bismuth can’t help it. 

She laughs. She laughs and laughs and falls back against the grass, arms spread out in an open invitation to the sky.

Pearl slaps a hand over her face and lets it slowly fall. “Ugh. I’m sorry. Those two can be so insufferable together. They have no concept of personal boundaries whatsoever.”

“Oh, believe me. I know.” Bismuth sits back up once her chuckles have subsided. She props up an elbow on her knee and looks to Pearl with a lazy grin. “I mean, I was just thinkin’: y’know, it’s such a shame Steven probably had to leave his Dondai parked somewhere around here when he came to meet us at this warp pad…it’d be a tragedy if, y’know, somethin’ happened to it while he was hiding…”

Pearl blinks. Slowly, she smiles and presses a hand to her own cheek. “Why, Bismuth! I knew there was a reason I love you.”

And there it is.

And it’s so simple to hear. 

And it’s perhaps the first time Bismuth has ever actually heard the words, which is funny, because after all of her imagining and all of her notions about what this moment would be like: to know that she matters and is cared for reciprocally…she never expected for it to be so unsurprising.

Pearl smiles at her as if she, too, knew exactly what she was saying and wanted it said and had no trouble at all saying it.

It makes Bismuth think maybe, she’s been hearing those words all along, too. Maybe she’s been trying to say them back just as much: throwing herself into harm’s way, trying to protect her, but these are not the ways Pearl wants it said.

“Yeah,” she hums instead. “I love you, too, Pearl.”

[touchstarvedsam]

First, there’s the small matter of my finder’s fee...

Sam sits outside the bar, staring at the front door, thinking about Crowley’s ‘finder’s fee’. He doesn’t know when he’s planning on collecting, but he’s hoping he has time to get his strength up first.

There’s only three cars in the parking lot -- including the Ford he stole -- and one of them is the Impala. From here, she doesn’t look like she’s been taken care of, which just solidified that his brother is gone. His car was his one and only baby.

Patting his side, he makes sure he has the demon knife, and his gun tucked safe into the back of his pants. He won’t kill his brother, but he’ll hurt him if he has to. Dean has a major advantage on him, and Sam’s injured shoulder is only part of it. He just hopes he can get him in the cuffs before he gets too much hits on Sam.

* * *

After getting Dean into the backseat of the Impala, pissed off and cuffed, he shuts the door carefully so he doesn’t hit Dean’s elbow. His whole body hurts. He’s bruised in places he didn’t think he could be bruised. He wants a hot shower, maybe even a bath, but he can’t do that until this is over and Dean is cured.

Crowley appears as he walks around the front of the car.

“Hello, Moose.”

“Crowley.”

“I’m here to collect.”

Sam’s heart sinks, his stomach warming with discomfort. “Now?” he whispers, panicked. “Can’t I at least--”

“Sorry, darling,” Crowley says unapologetically. “I collect at my convenience.” He flicks his wrist and Sam’s pinned face first against the hood of the Impala. He hisses when the movement jars his injured shoulder, then makes the mistake of looking ahead. He locks eyes with his big brother’s cold eyes and he regrets making this deal to begin with now. He was hoping Crowley wouldn’t collect until they could be somewhere alone. Dean doesn’t need to see this. He doesn’t want Dean to see this.

“Crowley,” he tries, desperate, “Not here.”

“You mean not in front of your big brother, right?” Crowley laughs. “What better place to do it? After all, he had sex with a server in my bed.” He uses his powers to hold Sam still as he works on undoing the button and zipper of the younger Winchester’s jeans. “Getting my jollies off inside his little brother on top of his car is the perfect retribution. Now behave.”

Sam tries to squirm, uncomfortable, but when he realizes it’s no use, he closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to see Dean’s indifferent face any longer.

As he’s stripped from the waist down, he bites his lip in wait. Crowley is taking his damn time when Sam just wants it over with.

“Have you ever been fucked, Moose?” he asks, not unkindly, a finger trailing down his back and towards the crack of his ass. “Are you untouched?” He looks up from Sam’s expansive back towards the seething demon in the backseat of the Impala and says, “Or did Dean fuck you? Has he tainted you before?” He shrugs a shoulder as he picks up Dean growling “I’m going to fucking kill you, Crowley” through the closed windows. “Love you too, Squirrel.”

A bottle of lube materializes and he sets it aside on top of the hood. “Well?”

“I- I’ve been fucked before,” he whispers, hoping Dean doesn’t catch it, but Dean’s acute demon hearing picks up on it and they both hear the growl that seems to vibrate the car beneath Sam. “Dean...”

“While I’m disappointed I won’t be the first, I’m glad that I’m apparently touching you before Dean.” He sends Dean a smug smirk as if to say ‘this is what you get for leaving’. “Now, I’m going to ask you to suck on my fingers. Get them nice and wet because they’re going right into your tight little arse, Moose. I have lube, but...” he teases a dry finger against the pucker, causing Sam to tense, “The lube is for the finale.”

Bringing his hand around, he tucks Sam’s hair behind his ear before pressing the tips of his index and middle fingers against Sam’s closed lips. “Open up, Sam,” he says, pushing harder, “Be a good boy.”

Sam’s eyes open and find Dean’s immediately. His brother is shaking in the backseat, mouth downturned into a twisted scowl, eyes narrowed dangerously. Sam doesn’t know if it’s towards him or Crowley and that scares him. I’m sorry, Dean, he thinks as he opens his mouth for the fingers pressing insistently.

“That’s a boy. Get them wet for me, good.” He leans over Sam, chest over back, and kisses his tense, plaid-covered shoulder blade. He pulls back, taking his wet fingers with him, and steps back to see the ass laid out before him.

His ass is pert and perky, primed to be fucked, and Crowley wishes he gave into his desire when he first met the Winchesters, if only just to piss off Dean. He’s always gotten the vibe that Sam belonged to Dean and Dean alone, but now a piece of Crowley will be inside Sam before Dean even got the opportunity; his second time inside Sam if he’s allowed to count demonic possession.

Tired of waiting, he finally presses the tip of his index finger against the pucker and pushes in, no warning. Sam draws in a hiss and Crowley realizes while Sam may have been fucked before, it couldn’t have been anytime recent. He presses the palm of his free hand against his groin to stave off his impending orgasm at the very thought. This is going to be his best lay, he can feel it.

“Crowley,” Sam grunts. “Just get it over with.”

Rolling his eyes, Crowley mutters, “Winchesters,” and presses his middle finger in alongside his index, pushing both in all the way. “Always out to steal my fun.”

He begins a rhythm, fucking Sam with two fingers, scissoring them inside him, twisting and turning and curling them at the knuckle until he finds what he’s looking for. Sam cries out, not entirely in pain, and Dean roars from the backseat, eyes burning black as he yanks on the door handle with his cuffed hands. Sam locked the door when he shut Dean in, Crowley thinks, because the handle won’t do anything when Dean pulls it angrily. “CROWLEY!”

“Hear that, Moose?” he taunts, eyes locked directly on Dean, smirk on his face. “I think your brother is a little mad.”

“Sto- stop taunting him, Crowley,” Sam pants, closing his eyes tight. Sweat pools on his brow, down his neck, saturates his face as Crowley adds a third finger to stretch him enough. “Just f-fuck me and get out of here. Let me take my brother home.”

“Like I said,” Crowley sighs. “Fun stealers, the both o’ you.” He pulls his fingers out and Sam hisses at the sudden emptiness. Crowley picks up the lube and coats his dick generously -- he has no interest in making the younger Winchester bleed, though Sam’s blood is delicious -- and presses it to the just barely stretched pucker. He pushes slow, guiding it so it opens Sam’s hole, the warmth engulfing him. “Hell, Moose, anyone ever told you how tight you are?”

He hisses in a breath when the head breaches the tight channel. If Sam’s this tight around just the head of his dick, squeezing greedily, Crowley knows Sam’s got to be in some measure of pain. “Moose?” It’s gone quiet. He looks up and sees Dean’s eyes are back to green, staring right at Sam’s face. He sees emotion for the first time in the demonic Winchester. “Sam.”

“I’m--” Sam chokes on a whine. “I’m fine just- just keep going.”

Crowley thinks, if Sam can’t handle the head, he’s not going to like the three extra inches he sold his soul for.

Now that his dick is inside enough, he’s able to let go of the base to grab Sam’s (really thin) hips and hold him still as he pushes in the whole way. First shot, he hits the spot inside Sam that his fingers took forever to find and Sam cries out, dropping his head until his forehead rests against the cool metal of the hood. Crowley takes it as a good sign and pulls out, quickly thrusting right back in. He sets a brutal rhythm, pounding in and out once Sam’s open enough for the pain to turn into pleasure. Crowley can’t remember the last time he fucked someone this tight. He doesn’t think he’s ever fucked anyone this tight.

“Oh, Dean,” Crowley taunts the older Winchester, “You’re really missing out on fucking Moose. He is. So. Fucking. Tight.” He punctuates each word with a brutal thrust, nailing Sam’s abused prostate every time. At ‘tight’, he does a rough grind, stimulating Sam’s prostate until Sam’s a shaking mess under him.

Sam’s crying out on every thrust, leaking precome all over the front of the car; Crowley thinks he can make him come untouched, thinks it will piss Dean off even more. He watches as Dean shakes in the backseat, trembling so much it looks like he’s close to combustion. Crowley smirks and thrusts harder. He’s a demon, he could fuck Sam to death if he wanted, then fuck him some more just to piss Dean off. But he’s grown too fond of the brothers Winchester, and doesn’t actually want harm to come to Sam.

But hell if he wants to give Sam up after this.

He’s close, can feel it in his jellies, and he knows Sam is too. He’s clenching impossibly tight around Crowley’s dick, almost like he’s trying to keep him inside forever. If Sam comes on his dick, he thinks he won’t ever want to come out again.

As if sensing the exact moment Sam’s going to come, he grabs Sam by the hair and tugs him roughly into a standing position, dick still thrusting inside his abused ass hole. Sam cries out in pain at both the harsh tug to his hair and at the way the movement jostles his injured shoulder. He chooses that exact moment to nail his prostate once more, and it sets Sam off like a firecracker. The younger Winchester comes completely untouched, shooting his load all over the front end, the hood, and the windshield of the Impala. He’s shaking and panting, gasping for breath as Crowley pulls out almost completely, then thrusts all the way back in, nailing the abused, sensitive prostate one last time before he comes hard, coating Sam’s insides with his demon spunk.

Sam whimpers as he’s laid back out onto the hood, right on top of his cooling come. Crowley pulls out after one last grind, Sam’s whine reaching both Crowley’s and Dean’s demon ears. “That’s it, darling,” he soothes, running a warm palm across Sam’s sweaty clothed back. “You did so good.” With a snap of his fingers, he cleans them both of come and sweat, but leaves his own come inside Sam as a reminder.

“This was my best deal yet, Moose.” He disappears as he normally does without a goodbye and Sam is left to shakily pull on his jeans.

Sam is still going to be sore, and come will no doubt be leaking from his ass for the few hours it’ll take for him to drive him and Dean back to the bunker, but it’s worth it because he got his brother back.

He’s going to cure him. He only hopes Dean forgets he ever saw this when he turns back into a human.

[mithranqueersmusings]

Before This Dance Is Through X

Chapter: 10/16

Rating: E (Smut Warning)

Summary: Ringo's being going through a dry spell for the last year or so and when he regretfully tells his best friend John, he insists on taking them to an all-male strip club for some "fun". Ringo isn't sure whether it's the alcohol, his desperation or a mixture of the two but he thinks he might be falling in love with a stripper.

Tags: AU - Strippers, Modern Setting, Smut, Slow Burn

Pairings: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

John had been right about the whole thing blowing over by the following morning, but it was most certainly helped by the support The Helter Skelter - whether intentionally or not - had provided for the two of them. Ringo headed over to the John's in the afternoon, after a quick text to confirm he was awake, with a coffee and a few sweet treats. Both of them reenacted the same scene as they always did, John opening the door with a hard face and Ringo with a sheepish smile. Then they'd both laugh and Ringo would be pulled into a tight hug before they headed off into one of John's three rooms - excluding the bathroom of course, that'd be weird - without any acknowledgement about what they'd actually fought about.

Ringo had recounted his night with George, he had been getting very used to that name, excitedly and John listened intently, only interrupting at the end of almost every sentence with a quick quip or suggestive comment. Everything was back to normal before they knew it, not including their unexpected and only partially acknowledged adoration of certain strippers.

"I just don't know why he told me his name." Ringo mused after drinking his coffee, he'd already been up for hours but he expected it made John feel validated if he pretended to be struggling with a hangover too.

"I can't think of any reason other than he likes you, Ringo." John explained "Well I could probably think of a few, but nothing realistic."

At first Ringo had been hesitant to relay the information George had told him right before they'd parted ways, but he didn't want to keep secrets from his best friend and he knew that John would be able to keep his mouth shut, a surprising and selective trait of his.

"It's not like it matters either way, he seemed pretty firm about not dating his customers." Ringo sighed.

"Well he said he won't date them, but did he say anything about fucking?" John raised an eyebrow suggestively which made Ringo scoff.

"I imagine it all falls under the same rule." Ringo rolled his eyes playfully.

"You should never assume Ringo, a lot of good opportunities are lost by assuming." John said with an air of superiority.

"What did you get up to anyway? I've had enough of trying to decode my night." Ringo shook his head dismissively.

"Oh... Not a lot." John drew out his syllables "Went to get a dance off Paul, drank a fair bit then headed home."

It was easy to tell when John was lying, at least for Ringo it was. If his suspicious demeanour wasn't enough to go off, Ringo could also see faint traces of rubbed off makeup on John's face and it didn't take a detective to figure out what that meant. Unless John had suddenly decided to pursue a career in drag last night, which Ringo knew wasn't a possibility because John certainly would've made a huge scene about it, he must've been spending time with Paul, or at least one of the dancers. The fact that George knew John was enough information in itself, because Ringo knew he'd never had a dance from him therefore Paul must've filled him in; exactly what he filled him in about Ringo wasn't sure, knowing John was lying was one thing but figuring out the whole truth was another entirely.

"Fair enough." Ringo simply said, there was no use in drawing attention to it "You up for going again this Friday? I've got all these school days booked this week and I just know it's gonna drain me."

John continued to shift in his seat, the spark in his eyes fading considerably "I don't think I can."

"Oh, alright... What about the weekend then?" Ringo tried to act like he hadn't noticed the change in behaviour.

"No can do, I'm afraid. My mate's breathing down my neck about this poetry book, so I really need to get it done." John revealed, he wasn't looking at Ringo directly.

"Well what ab-" Ringo began.

"My dear Ringo, I can't hold your hand forever. You've gotta spread your gay wings and fly, particularly in the direction of the strip club." John began returning back to his normal self, at least the self that reflected everything potentially serious with a joke.

"I guess you're right. Just feels a bit more dodgy that way, you know? Like I'm not just there for a laugh, I'm there-" Ringo tried once more.

"To watch the love of your life take his clothes off?" John quickly finished the sentence which earned him a kick under the table.

"I bloody hate you, you know that?" Ringo asked with a huge grin on his face.

When Ringo finally returned home, he couldn't help still worrying about John somewhat. He knew the reason hadn't been a complete fabrication, after all there had been countless occasions in which John struggled to meet the deadlines for his work, but that had almost never stopped him from going out and having a good time. Ringo suspected that his night hadn't been the only one resulting in partially unwanted revelations.

The following days unfolded agonisingly slowly, the hot weather didn't help nor did the mania of the children or the incompetence of the teachers. Surprisingly one of the teachers had been male this time, but even more surprising had been how little Ringo seemed to care. If the man had been interested in him or not he didn't know, he'd hardly paid any attention to him. He had to admit to himself that this thing with George wasn't merely a fleeting obsession, rather it was a real interest and a more than intense attraction.

When Friday finally came Ringo kept trying to talk himself out of it, but ultimately failed each time. The alternative would've been sticking a cheap meal in the microwave, or he could've been adventurous and ordered takeaway, and falling asleep in front of the television to reruns of Friends or a peculiar series which tried to pin every major world event on aliens. It wasn't a hard decision to make. So he showered and picked out a nice enough outfit, he didn't want to look like he was trying too hard. He decided to drive because it ensured, or at least attempted to, that he wouldn't drink too much throughout the night. It definitely felt strange without John by side, he hadn't realised how much of a support he'd been until he was absent.

The club was rather busy, but nothing compared to the previous time Ringo had been there. As he walked inside the bouncer gave him a suspicious look which didn't help his nerves one bit, but he managed to remain composed as he headed over to the bar. One drink was alright, surely, it'd help calm his nerves and at least give him something to do with his hands. After he ordered his drink he asked the bartender whether Spike was working tonight, he'd been very cautious of slipping up with the names, after all he didn't know whether any of George's colleagues knew.

"I dunno." He answered uninterested, he only spoke more when Ringo looked at him confused "We don't really talk to the dancers."

Ringo just nodded his head and sat back on the stool, looking around nervously. The horrible fear began solidifying that George might not even be working tonight. If he earned as much money as Ringo suspected, surely he didn't work every single night. He'd noticed enough different dancers every night to suppose that the amount of staff was fairly large. Ringo tried not to worry too much, after all he didn't know that was the case, but it was hard not to try and plan out the best possible course of action if it was the case. The normal thing to do would be to simply find another dancer, to watch the shows on the stage and go home without any fuss. But the thought of paying someone else for a private dance felt wrong, it almost felt like cheating, which Ringo knew was utterly ridiculous but he couldn't help it. He finished his drink rapidly then set off in search for an answer, a quick glance to the main stage was all he needed to know that there was nothing of interest for him there. As he worked through the crowd he finally spotted a familiar head of hair, even if it wasn't the one he wanted it was better than nothing. The closer he got he could see Paul speaking to a group of customers, the drinks tray clasped in his hands. Ringo hung around the outside of the circle rather awkwardly until Paul noticed his presence, for a second he seemed confused but soon he was smiling and politely excusing his way out of the conversation.

"Ringo. How can I help you, love?" Paul asked with a smile, his smell was very eniticing.

"Hi. Sorry to disturb you like that, I just wanted to know if Spike was working tonight." Ringo explained, he was still carrying around his empty glass.

"Oh." Paul's eyes lit up knowingly "He sure is, think he's out back smoking right now. He's up on stage next, actually."

"Perfect. Er- I mean, good. Fine." Ringo stammered which only made Paul's smile widen.

"Is John with you tonight?" Paul was trying to sound unbothered, and while he was doing a far better job than Ringo it wasn't faultless.

"He's not, actually. Had some poetry stuff to take care of." Ringo explained, he thought that'd be enough information to satisfy Paul but he continued to stand there waiting "His friend's putting together a collection, asked John to write something for it."

"I see, well that's great news. Isn't it?" Paul didn't give Ringo time to respond, he flipped his tray upwards and took Ringo's empty glass from him "Let me take that off you, love. Enjoy the show." And so he parted with a wink.

Ringo ordered another drink, he was pushing his luck at this point but his conversation with Paul had put him a little on edge. There was nothing left to do now but wait, he took a seat on the outer ring of chairs and tried to enjoy the current dancer's performance: they were on all fours twerking in a rather cheap looking gold thong. It wasn't Ringo's cup of tea, that was for sure, and so his attention drifted over to his phone. He didn't want to look rude but if he watched any longer his facial expressions might've been a little too revealing of what he really thought.

       paul asked where you were

There was nobody he could really message in this moment other than John, any Snapchat selfie might've given too much away, and there was nobody else who'd respond quick enough to justify his continued staring at this phone.

        what did you say??

        is there something I shouldve said?         or not said?         i said you had your poetry thing to do

        okay cool         hows georgie

        havent seen him yet         waiting for him to come on stage

        ooo exciting         wish i could be there         now get off your phone you rude prick         fill me in on everything after

        sure thing

Ringo hesitantly slid his phone back into his pocket, focusing entirely on his drink as he waited for this performance to finally end. Luckily it wasn't too long before the twerking ended, not without cheers from the crowd who threw money onto the stage. The announcer announced, as was their job, that Spike was the next one to grace the stage. Ringo had never figured out exactly where the DJ was in the club, or if there even was one at all, perhaps one of the dancer's just put on a voice before each performance to give it a sense of occasion. The pounding music of the previous dance had been replaced by a gentle piano and sultry voice, it was 'Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy' by Queen; not the song Ringo had expected to hear in a strip club but it was definitely welcome. Not as welcome as George's presence, of course, as he stepped out onto the stage and Ringo instinctively held his breath.

It was strange seeing him like this again, the image that had been visiting Ringo constantly over the past few days had been the more casual version. It was like he was seeing him for the first time all over again, but this time he wasn't going to run away, he was going to sit right here and enjoy every moment. He was wearing a harness across his chest, of lilac leather, and grey baggy trousers, almost harem style, as they clung to his slim calves perfectly then loosened up towards the top. His hair was loose, poofing up a little at the top as though he'd just dried it. Ringo felt his mouth lying open a little, and had to shut it by drinking more.

George stepped out on the stage slowly, letting the lights reflect off the metal of his harness and shine off his bare skin. As the beat began to kick in, he moved his hips rhythmically, his hand immediately going to the pole in the center as he dipped low with the legs spread wide open as the falsettos of the song started - Ringo had always enjoyed this song, there was something a little sensual about it but it was being taken to a whole new level now. George didn't stay on the stage for too long, instead he moved out into the audience. Yet it wasn't the same as it had been before, teasing each customer just a little and collecting money, instead he was searching for something, or someone for that matter. It made Ringo a little anxious, but part of him said that he wouldn't be noticed in the back row and someone else would catch George's eye long before he'd even realised he was here. This was one of the few occasions that Ringo had been incredibly pleased to be wrong.

George's eyes flitted over the people in the audience fairly quickly and rather dismissively, while he kept up the sultry movements of his hips and hands. That was until he spotted Ringo who of course was staring right back at him. George's eyes didn't move any further, not bothering to see who else the room had to offer. In that moment it felt like the room and everyone around them vanished, like it was just the two of them looking at one another as George slowly made his way over, even the music began to fade away. What shook Ringo out of this haze was the feeling of George tugging at the neck of his jumper, his fingers brushing against Ringo's skin just slightly. Ringo wasn't sure how he was able to stand up, he felt like his entire body was made of lead, but the next thing he knew he was being lead over to the stage where a chair was now sitting. The crowd had begun cheering, just as they had the last time, but Ringo was determined to not allow this moment to pass him by, to not get into his head and ruin it all for himself.

George didn't move his hand off of Ringo the entire time, somehow managing to walk backwards to the stage while his fingers pulled at the fabric of Ringo's jumper. Even when he guided Ringo down into the chair, his hands ghosted over Ringo's shoulders gently until he was back in front of him. The first thing Ringo noticed was how bright the lights were, he wondered how anyone was able to pull a sexy face when being heavily blinded, but it helped with any potential stage fright because he could hardly see an audience out there. Ringo had no idea if there was anything he was meant to be doing, his hands just lay flat on his thighs like he was sat waiting for the bus. George had that same confident grin on his lips, but it didn't frighten Ringo as much as it used to, rather it made him smile too.

Wearing a jumper had definitely been a mistake, not only because of the intense heat radiating from the lights but with George kneeling down in front of him he couldn't help but start to sweat. The song was still playing even though Ringo was certain far too much time had passed for that to be true. George began running his hands slowly up Ringo's legs which were conveniently spread apart, but he never pressed down too hard and it was the lightness of his touch that was making Ringo's skin itch. George looked up at him directly, his eyes dark and slightly closed. Ringo would give anything to see him like this again, away from the club and all this confusion, just the two of them together and alone. George's hands never got too close to Ringo's crotch, for which he was very grateful for because he could already feel himself hardening and George was the last person he wanted to know. Right before his fingers brushed just a little too high, he lifted himself back up to his full height and looked down at Ringo somewhat mischievously. Then he turned around, taking a small step backwards so that he was hovering over Ringo's lap just slightly, and then began to grind his hips slowly down. The sound of the crowd cheering broke out again, it was a sobering reminder that George wasn't doing this for Ringo, he was doing it to put on a good show.

It was impossible not to look at George's arse from his angle, luckily Ringo didn't feel overly guilty because he was wearing more clothes than he usually did. The bagginess of the pants left a little to the imagination but Ringo could still somewhat make out the roundness of George's cheeks beneath the fabric as he moved. Just as Ringo was very much making peace with this view, George turned around again so that his crotch was right in Ringo's face. Even though he'd experienced this before, it didn't make it any easier. If anything, everything that had happened since that first lapdance made this all the harder, in more ways than one.

George swiftly moved his right leg upwards towards his own chest without faltering, making Ringo realise very easily why they were referred to as exotic dancers, then pressed his foot down onto the tiny space left on the seat between Ringo's thighs. It was painfully close to his almost fully hard cock, something that Ringo doubted was lost on George. He moved his other leg slightly outwards then began thrusting his hips upwards again, more aggressively this time. That should've been enough, enough to satisfy whatever urge George had when he pulled Ringo up there, but he was far from done. One of Ringo's hands was gently picked up, he expected for it to be placed against George's bare chest as it had been before, but it moved up further until one of his fingers was pressing against George's lips. There was a pause for just a moment, it couldn't have been longer than a few seconds, where George cocked his eyebrow to give Ringo a chance to back out. In response Ringo just licked across his top lip, it hadn't been entirely intentional because his mouth was ridiculously dry, but it wasn't a complete accident either.

The heat of George's mouth was a shock to Ringo's system as his finger slipped inside, ring and all. He was still thrusting at this point but Ringo hardly noticed, his eyes were completely fixed on the way George's lips wrapped around the digit. It probably didn't last as long as Ringo felt it did, or as long as he wanted it to, but it was safe to say that he was fully hard now. George twirled his tongue around the finger skillfully, before he slowly pulled his mouth away and let it fall out with a small popping sound. His foot also moved off of the seat, but didn't move too far as it settled on the floor still between Ringo's legs.

George began to lower himself again, swirling his hips as he did so, scooting his feet carefully closer towards Ringo. He didn't know what was so different about this time, Ringo didn't want to convince himself that it had anything to do with George liking him in any way, but it was difficult to dismiss it completely; especially when instead of George hovering over Ringo's thigh as he'd expected him to, he settled directly down onto him. Ringo let out an involuntary soft moan, it was quiet enough that George might not have heard it. As if the contact wasn't enough, George practically fucking himself on Ringo's thigh, he raised one of his hands to brush against the stubble on Ringo's cheek. This simple touch brought Ringo's gaze up to meet George's, he was looking incredibly pleased with himself and when he caught Ringo looking at him he grinned wolfishly revealing his sharp teeth.

George's hand began to trail downwards slowly, skimming over Ringo's neck then onto his chest until it came back down to just above Ringo's groin. He paused for a moment, as he knew he shouldn't go any further than this but the wrecked look on Ringo's face spurred him on. It wasn't much, just a quick brush of his fingertips over Ringo's erection, but it was enough to make Ringo gasp. He'd nearly forgotten that people were watching them, but the continued cheers made it hard to block them out entirely.

George moved his hand onward onto the inside of Ringo's thigh, but he could only reach so far from his current position. Ringo thought George was beginning to look a little exasperated, but it could've just been an act. His whole body felt like it was on fire, like he was ready to explode at any moment. It couldn't last forever though, this moment, as much as Ringo wanted it to. Soon George was picking himself back up, moving in front of Ringo once more and reaching down to his knees while he pushed his hips backwards to give yet another glorious view of his arse. But that had been the last of it, George then began walking off the stage with a quick wink and grin.

Ringo sat in the chair for longer than he probably should've but he didn't feel like he was ready to move. Eventually he was able to stumble back to where he'd left his drink, he downed it immediately. As he walked past groups of people he received a few pats on the back, as though he'd achieved something.

What he should do next was difficult to decide, he didn't feel mentally or physically prepared to get a private dance from George but heading home immediately felt a little strange, even when there were pressing matters to attend to. What he wanted to do, that was easy: he wanted to take George out for another drink, to take him back to his place and fuck him like it was the only thing he'd ever wanted, and in this moment it felt that way. Alas, that was never going to happen. It was hard to ignore that fact when he handed a £20 note to the bartender to pass along to Spike, he managed to not let the name slip even in his dishevelled state. Whether the bartender was going to pocket the money or not wasn't a massive concern to Ringo, it was the quickest way he felt he could get the money along without hanging around desperately for a chance of seeing George again.

The drive home had been almost painful, Ringo still wasn't certain that he'd managed to catch his breath. Before he'd even closed the front door behind him, he was loading up George's Onlyfans profile and unbuckling his very restrictive belt. If fantasising about having George all to himself was all he could do, then so be it, he was going to let his mind run wild.

[spookyrus-writes-sometimes]

Maka Gets a Boyfriend at the End of This Story

Fandom: Soul Eater Characters: Maka, Soul Eater, Black☆Star, Tsubaki Relationships: Spoilers! :P Genre: Humor, Fluff Rating: K+, no warnings Words: 2,635 Date: April 1, 2016 (revised April 15, 2020) AO3 | DA | FF

It was a fine summer's day in Death City, Nevada. Birds were singing, the sun was laughing, and Scythe Meister Maka Albarn was sitting in her apartment instead of enjoying the nice weather. On a day like today, most students of the Death Weapon Meister Academy would be out and about, playing games or hanging with friends.

But not Maka.

Maka would rather be sitting in the comfort of her home, book in hand and air conditioning roaring.

"Maka," groaned Demon Scythe Soul Eater from the kitchen, "if you're gonna stay inside all day, the least you could do is make some food."

"Make your own food," Maka retorted. "I'm reading."

"You're always reading," said Soul Eater, leaning in the door frame to the living room. "The only thing you ever do is read. Why don't you get up and actually do something with your life?"

"I am doing something with my life," said Maka. "I'm nourishing my brain with literature."

"That's the stupidest excuse I've ever heard," Soul scoffed through gritted teeth. "Now go outside."

"No."

"I'm not even asking you to stop reading. I'm just asking you to read outside."

"No," Maka repeated adamantly. "It's too hot. There's AC in here."

"Ugh... You're such a pain."

Soul Eater scratched his chin thoughtfully. Surely, there must have been some way to convince his meister to get up and about. Just a little push, some sort of motivation to do anything other than all this nothing. But what could it be? Then, Soul Eater got an idea. A horrible, awful, downright moronic idea.

"Maka," said Soul Eater, a glint in his eye, "do you know what you need?"

"My own apartment?" Maka replied snottily.

Soul shook his head. "No," he chuckled, grinning a twisted grin. "A boyfriend."

Immediately Maka's head shot up, her eyes bugging out of her face. "What did you just say?"

"You need a boyfriend," Soul Eater repeated, "and I'm going to get you one."

Laughing sarcastically, Maka slammed her book shut and set it on the couch beside her. "Um, no," she said, "that is not happening. I am not getting a boyfriend, much less one that you suggest."

"Aw, that's adorable," Soul Eater snickered. "You think you have a choice."

He then forcefully lifted her over his shoulder and carried her out the door. She screamed the whole way.

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On the streets of Death City at the height of noon, Soul Eater taped a hastily thrown-together flyer to a lamp post. Said flyer depicted an unflattering school photograph of Maka and pencil-written advertisements saying that she was single. All the while, Soul Eater cackled maniacally, only encouraged by his meister's protests. "Soul Eater!" Maka exclaimed. "Stop that right now! You've made your point!" She held her arms open to the beaming sun, shouting, "O great sun, how beautiful art thou?!" then swung back around. "Can we go home now?!" "Nope!" replied Soul Eater. "Not until we've found you the perfect guy." "I don't need a boyfriend!" Maka roared. "I don't want a boyfriend! What part of this are you not understanding?!" "The part where you sit inside with your nose in a book on perfectly nice days like today." "But it's scorching!" It didn't take long for the flyer to start attracting attention. Unfortunately, this wasn't the kind of attention Soul Eater had been hoping for. "What the heck is this?" queried Shadow Meister Black Star, pawing the flyer as he looked it over. With a hearty laugh, he said, "You're seriously trying to get Maka a boyfriend?! What kind of guy would want to date Maka?!" "Now, Black Star," said Shadow Weapon Tsubaki Nakatsukasa, "I'm sure you don't mean that..." "I totally mean it!" Black Star asserted. "I say what I mean and I mean what I say! And I mean it when I say that no guy in his right mind would ever want to date Maka Albarn!" Tsubaki sighed. "Even if you do mean it, that doesn't mean you should say things like that about our friend..." "No, he's right." Some confused stares turned to Maka. "No guy in his right mind would ever want to date me," she declared, "because I am undesirable. We should just give up and go home, because this will go nowhere and we are all wasting our time." "Wow, seriously?" questioned Black Star. "I was trying to insult you." "I get the feeling that Maka isn't doing this by choice," Tsubaki observed. "Nope, but this is for her own good," said Soul Eater. "I am not unlocking the door to our apartment until she is happy in somebody's arms." "Then why don't you be her boyfriend?" asked Black Star. "Ew, no," said Soul and Maka in unison. "Besides," Maka growled, "he's part of the problem." "Well, what about Death the Kid?" Black Star suggested. "He's smart, a good meister, and a total snob. Just like Maka." "I'm right here!" Maka shouted, and Black Star reveled in the glory of a successful blow. "He does seem up your alley, Maka," Soul Eater concurred. "I'm not interested in Kid," Maka huffed, "or any guy. Besides, likes repel, and I don't think I could stand to listen to another one of his symmetry rants." Somewhere, Death the Kid pauses in the middle of one of his hourly symmetry rants to his weapon partners. "What's the matter?" asks Liz. "Someone is talking about me," replies Death the Kid. "Someone... unsymmetrical..." "If Maka doesn't want a boyfriend, she shouldn't be forced to have one," said Tsubaki. "It's her choice to make, not Soul Eater's." "Yes, thank you!" Maka cried. "You're just saying that to defend her," said Black Star, "and the fact that she is completely undateable." "That's not true!" Tsubaki exclaimed. "Maka has plenty of desirable traits! She's smart, nice, a talented meister... But if she doesn't want to date, she doesn't have to." "Well, she's gonna have to be dateable," said Soul Eater, "because she's getting a date, whether she likes it or not." "Did you hear a word I just said...?" "Hey, what's going on over here?" The group turned to see two new arrivals, Lamp Meister Kim Diehl and her partner Demon Lantern Jacqueline O'Lantern Dupré, checking out the Maka poster. "Maka needs a date?" Jackie questioned. "Looks like," replied Kim, "but why?" "Because she needs to step out and smell the roses for once in her life," said Soul Eater, attracting the girls' attention. "Do you guys have any ideas?" inquired Black Star. "'Cuz we're drawing a blank, and she's being stubborn." "I'm being stubborn because this is stupid!" "I can't think of anybody off the top of my head," said Jackie. "I can," said Kim. "How about Ox Ford?" "What?!" Maka wasn't the only person who said that. At the same time, Lightning King Ox Ford stumbled out from his hiding place behind the nearest building. "What were you doing there?!" Kim shrieked. "Certainly not following you around the city in case of any opportunity to be your knight in shining armor, that's for sure!" Ox Ford replied nervously, and Kim gave an exasperated sigh. "But really, I'm insulted that you think I would even consider going out with Maka Albarn! I am very out of her league, and I have no interest in someone such as her!" "Good!" Maka spat. "I have no interest in someone such as you!" "Sounds like we're running out of options," whispered Soul Eater to Black Star. "Yeah, Maka may be undesirable, but she can't be completely hopeless," whispered Black Star to Soul Eater. "There's got to be somebody who'd be willing to go out with her. Like, maybe if we could blackmail them..." Maka's eye twitched. "Ox, may I take a look at your school supplies?" "Of course," replied Ox Ford. "I don't go anywhere without bringing school with me." Ox held his book bag open for Maka, who retrieved a hefty textbook on soul science, hardcover. She slammed it spine-first into Soul Eater's head. He crashed into Black Star and they both hit the ground. Maka handed the book back to Ox and expressed her gratitude. "Ow," said Soul Eater. "Hey, I know!" Black Star exclaimed, prying his face off of the pavement. "That hit to the head gave my brain the jump start it needed to come up with an idea!" "Shoot." "Let's set her up on a blind date!" Black Star suggested. "That way the guy doesn't have to know who he's dating! It's the perfect plan!" "Are we sure this is a good idea...?" Tsubaki questioned. "No," Maka grunted, "no we aren't." "Hey, I know the perfect guy, too!" Kim added. "He won't suspect a thing!" "Oh my god," Jackie chuckled, "I think I know who you're talking about." "Just as long as he's decent," said Soul Eater. "I don't want some grungy jerk talking up my meister." Kim assured, "Don't worry about that. He's probably a better person than Maka." "You all keep talking about me like I'm not right here!" "Alright, then it's settled!" Black Star declared. "Tonight, we commence Operation Get Maka A Boyfriend! YAHOO!!" While Soul and Kim cheered, Maka buried her face in her hands, and Tsubaki patted her on the back solemnly. "My life is over."

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That night, Maka found herself in a make-shift restaurant, this being Black Star and Tsubaki's dining room with a sheet draped over the table and some candles set about to solidify the "romantic" atmosphere. She hadn't bothered changing out of her attire from earlier, mostly because Soul Eater still wouldn't let her into their apartment, but also because she didn't care. She was sitting across from Pot Meister Kilik Rung, who was dressed in a messy bow tie over his street clothes. He looked even less comfortable than Maka did. Pot of Fire was playing a peaceful tune on a little violin while Pot of Thunder pretended to take the "happy couple's" order, wearing a fake curly mustache. "So," asked Maka dully, "how did Kim drag you into this?" "She threatened to text my grade school photos to the entire academy..." Kilik sighed. Black Star strutted into the room, carrying two plates and wearing a mustache similar to Thunder's. "Dinner is served," he said in a crude Italian accent before darting back to watch the chaos unfold with the others. On each plate was a ham sandwich. Literally just a piece of ham between two slices of white bread. Maka rolled her eyes. "Look, Kilik. I appreciate the effort, but I'm just not interested." "Oh, good." Kilik sighed with relief. "You said it first." "Does this mean you're not gonna make out?" Black Star called from the other room. "This isn't going to work, guys!" said Maka. "Just shut it down already!" "You heard her," came Tsubaki's voice, which was met with groans of disappointment. The lights came up, and Black Star, Tsubaki, Soul Eater, Kim, Jackie, and Ox Ford stepped into the dining room. Ox looked like he wasn't completely sure what he was doing there. "Aw, man!" Kim complained. "I was so sure that would work." "Maybe Maka really is hopeless," Soul Eater lamented. "Or maybe I just don't want a boyfriend!" Kilik glanced around awkwardly. "So, uh... can we go, or...?" "Rome wasn't built in a day," said Jackie, "and love can't be made in one." "There has to be some other way!" said Black Star determinedly. "Maybe we can sign her up for a dating website or something." "My cousin met her husband on a dating website," said Ox Ford. "That might work, actually..." said Soul Eater. Tsubaki cast a nervous glance to Maka, whose body was tensing and teeth were grinding. "We might have to get creative with the profile, though." "Maybe we could say that she's foreign. How good is her Russian accent?" "Does she have any talents other than reading?" "I'm gay!" A string on Fire's violin sprung. The room instantly fell silent. "What did you say?" Soul Eater questioned. "I'm gay," Maka repeated, now standing, her chair knocked over. "I like girls, okay?" She tidied her outfit, face flushed, before continuing, "I didn't want to tell you because I figured you'd make fun of me, since you're always looking for new material." Black Star scratched behind his ear. "But you didn't give me much of a choice there... and I guess you had to find out eventually." For a few seconds, nobody said anything. Kim and Jackie exchanged glances, and Kilik sat obediently for fear of what was coming next. "Seriously...?" Black Star eventually spoke. Maka scowled back at him. "What?" Black Star chuckled, catching Maka off guard. "You thought we would make fun of you for that?" He burst out laughing, on the verge of hysterics. "You're kidding! Why would we make fun of you because you're gay? That's just mean!" He elbowed Tsubaki in the ribs, and she squeaked. "Tsubaki's gay, too!" "You didn't need to tell everyone that..." Tsubaki whimpered, covering her face. "Yeah, half of my friends are lesbians!" Kim added. "That's nothing to be ashamed of." "Though I can't say I blame you," said Ox Ford, "for thinking Soul Eater and Black Star would use that as another excuse to harass you." Maka's expression softened. "I... didn't think you would all be so supportive." "Why wouldn't we be?" said Jackie. "It doesn't make you any different from the rest of us," said Kilik. Fire and Thunder each gave a thumbs-up of approval. Soul Eater approached Maka, and she eyed him skeptically. "I wish you would have told me sooner," said the weapon. "Why's that?" asked the meister. Soul Eater flashed a toothy grin. "Because then I could have advertised you for a girlfriend instead." Maka roared her frustrations, swatted at the howling Soul Eater and started towards the door. "Oh, come on!" Soul Eater cried. "We make fun of you and you get mad, we don't make fun of you and you still get mad, what do you want from us?!" Maka grumbled when she realized the door was locked, and Tsubaki walked to stand beside her. As she slid the key into the lock, she whispered, "If you want, I could take you out to lunch tomorrow. To make up for... all of this." Maka ran her fingers through her hair, cheeks slightly pink. "Uh, yeah," she replied. "I'd like that." Soul Eater and Black Star looked to each other curiously.

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It was another fine day in Death City, Nevada. Flowers were blooming, the sun was snoring, and Scythe Meister Maka Albarn, as usual, had her nose stuck in a book. However, this time she had her nose stuck in a book outside on a park bench. As the boys played basketball on the court before them, Tsubaki sat down beside Maka. "What are you reading?" she inquired. "Oh, it's just a book that my papa got me," the meister replied. "It's called Boyfriend, and it's about this passive girl who has a really sweet boyfriend, but realizes she doesn't feel the same way about him and doesn't know how to turn him down. In this chapter she goes to her best friend..." As Maka went on, Tsubaki smiled and nodded, listening intently to the summary. On the court, Soul Eater and Black Star paused their game to observe their partners. "Well, it didn't go according to plan," said Black Star, "but you got her to come outside, right?" "Yeah." Soul Eater nodded. He watched Maka further explain her reading, sitting close to Tsubaki and smiling brightly. "She seems happy. That's what's important." He turned back to Black Star, and with a smirk, he added, "But I'm never letting her forget that I was totally right about her needing to get out more." THE END

[atlfics]

Eighteen- All Time Low Fanfiction

A/N: This is set in their senior of high school.

“I don’t know how we haven’t talked about this yet, but your birthday is two weeks from today, dude! The big eighteen!” Alex exclaimed to Jack, his bet friend, as he started to drive them out of the school parking lot.

“Oh yeah, it is,” Jack replied in a very unenthused voice. He turned his head and started to stare out the window.

“You don’t sound very excited, man, are you not looking forward to it?” Alex asked, genuinely confused.

“No, I am, really. Let’s talk about this later, like at your house or something,” Jack requested, still looking out the window.

“Oh, um, okay, we can do that. Let’s listen to some Blink for the rest of the drive,” Alex suggested. He hit the skip button on his stereo until he finally found Jack’s favorite song on the CD that was playing. The rest of the drive was filled with silence aside from the music, Alex focused on driving, and Jack still staring out the window. Once they finally got to Alex’s house, Alex led Jack inside, and up to his room.

“Man, I’m so glad it’s Friday, I had two tests this week, and in my least favorite classes! I’m glad we planned for you to sleep over,” Alex said as he put down his backpack. After not hearing a response from Jack, Alex turned around and saw Jack sitting on his bed with a blank expression on his face. This concerned Alex, he really had no idea what could be bothering Jack so much. Alex walked over to his bed and sat down next to his best friend.

“Jack, you’re not acting like yourself, what’s up?” Alex asked, sounding as concerned as he felt.

“What? No, I’m fine,” Jack tried, a very unconvincing smile forming on his face.

“Dude, we’ve been friends for, like, five years now, I know you well enough to know that’s bullshit. Seriously man, what’s up? You’ve not been yourself ever since I brought up your birthday in the car, did that trigger something in you?” Alex continued. Jack took a deep breath before talking.

“Yes, it did, Alex,” Jack admitted.

“Really? You normally love your birthday, you always insist on having big, extravagant celebrations. Well, as big and extravagant as we can afford with our shitty, minimum wage jobs,” Alex joked.

“I know, and I still want to do that, but I’m a little nervous,” Jack admitted.

“For what? You’re officially going to be an adult!” Alex exclaimed.

“I know, I’ll be an adult in two weeks, we graduate high school in two months. Man, where the fuck did the time go?” Jack asked.

“I’m surprised to hear this from you, you’ve been ready to be out of high school since the first day of our freshman year. What’s going on in your mind, Jack?” Alex asked, hoping that Jack would just say what was bothering him so much.

“I don’t feel like I’ve lived my life to the fullest since we’ve been in high school,” Jack confessed.

“Really? We did a lot of the same things, and I certainly don’t feel that way,” Alex said back.

“Alex, our experiences weren’t as similar as you think they were. Sure, they were alike when we were together, but not so much outside of that,” Jack explained.

“That’s where I’m drawing a blank. We’re best friends, we basically do everything together,” Alex stated.

“Kind of. You’ve always had more friends than me, so you’ve always done more because of that,” Jack said back.

“What? You have plenty of friends! Everyone I’m friends with likes you!” Alex stated.

“No, they all put up with me. All of your friends are nice guys, but there’s absolutely no way they’d want to hang out with me if you weren’t there. Alex, I never really had a lot of friends, especially my own friends, like outside of you and your group. I feel like I missed out on a lot because of that,” Jack stated, looking down in embarrassment.

“I don’t think that at all! You and I have hung out so much, and have done so many fun things together, and I wouldn’t have wanted it to be any different. Is this the only thing bothering you?” Alex asked.

“Well, no. I also haven’t ever had a real girlfriend. I know you’re single now, but you dated that one girl for two whole years, and I’ve never had anything like that,” Jack explained.

“Dude, that girl ended up being batshit crazy in the last months of our relationship, I know you remember that. Whenever she’d do or say something hurtful, I always went to you. Then, you ended up helping me through our breakup. Being in a high school relationship really doesn’t live up to all of the hype that surrounds it. If I could go back and just be single all throughout high school like you were, I would. Everything would’ve been so much easier,” Alex explained.

“I understand all of that, but you still had the experience of having a girlfriend, meanwhile, I’ve never even come close to having anything like that. Even if I had a shitshow relationship, it still would’ve been an experience that I could laugh about now, like you do about your ex. Also, when we went to prom last month, you were like the center of attention on the dancefloor, and I sat at a table alone by the punch bowl,” Jack pointed out.

“Well, I certainly didn’t expect that to happen, my date apparently really liked to dance. I expected to just take pictures with her, then to spend the evening with you, doing our own thing,” Alex stated.

“I know, but that’s not what happened. Everyone seemed to have so much fun that night, and I was all alone in the corner. I’ve never told you this, but I cried when I was by myself. Being alone reminded me of how alone I’ve felt all throughout high school, aside from being with you, and really solidified that in my mind,” Jack said, his voice getting smaller.

“Jack, I had no idea, I wish I’d known that. I never knew that you felt like this, or that you cried on prom night. How come you’ve never told me about any of this?” Alex asked, growing more concerned for his friend.

“I don’t know, I guess these feelings come in waves, like only if I think about it, or if something reminds me of it. I just feel like I wasted my teenage years doing nothing. I didn’t live them to the fullest; I didn’t party very much, I didn’t even try to form other close friendships aside from you, I never fell in love. I went to prom, but I didn’t go to the after party with you and your other friends, I spent the evening alone at home. I just feel like I missed out on the key parts of being a teenager in high school. Turning eighteen scares the shit out of me, like, I’m still technically going to be a teenager, but it’s different. Just knowing that I can’t go back and have fun makes me sad, and I just regret how I spent high school. I feel like I fucked up and lived my teen years incorrectly,” Jack explained. Some tears started to form in his eyes out of frustration, and Jack did his best to quickly blink them away, feeling even more embarrassed now.

“Jack, there’s not a ‘right’ way to be a teenager, more specifically, a high schooler. I know all of the movies and TV shows seem to have it down to a formula, but that’s not real. It can be hard to see all of that and tell yourself that it’s just a show or movie, but that’s what it is. Those things expect you to feel inferior to them, they set a standard that might not be realistic for everyone, which is kind of fucked up. I’ve not done everything that’s in those movies. I think I went to one football and one basketball game over the entire time we’ve gone to school here. That’s a big deal in all of those movies and shows, but I don’t feel like I missed out by not going to them. Being at those things never felt fun to me, and I realized that they’re just not for me. I felt like I should do things like that for the same reason you’re feeling so down, and it made me upset with myself, like I was throwing away a fun opportunity. Last year, I realized that not going is what I preferred, and that’s perfectly okay. Jack, you don’t have to have a picture-perfect high school career for it to be considered right or correct,” Alex explained, putting a hand on Jack’s shoulder.

“I appreciate you saying all of that, I really do, I just wish that I tried to build more real connections with people. I know you remember I had some toxic friends our first year, and that sort of stopped me from wanting to find other friends. Like, it made trusting that other people wouldn’t do all of the same things really hard, so I never really tried to find new friends in the fear that I’d get hurt again,” Jack explained.

“I understand your frustrations about that, but it’s okay to not have a lot of close friends. I can definitely understand the loneliness that comes with it, but it’s really okay. The people here weren’t who clicked with you, that’s perfectly okay, man. We go to college in, like, five months. We’re going to the same school, and we’re going to be roommates, and we’re going to meet all new people, and we’ll make new, real, genuine friendships. It’s okay that you didn’t have a lot of close friends, we’re going to go to this new place, and you can do everything you mentioned earlier, but there!” Alex exclaimed.

“Well, I can’t really redo prom,” Jack mumbled.

“Oh, but you can. College has formal, which is basically college prom! I know turning eighteen makes all of this feel more real and scary, but it’s all totally okay. I’ve got your back, I’ll do everything I can to help college be more fun for you than high school was,” Alex promised.

“While that sounds great, I don’t want you to feel like you have to babysit me or watch out for me constantly. I don’t want to be a burden to you in college, like I already feel I was in high school,” Jack said, a guilty look on his face.

“Jack, you’ve never been a burden. You’re my best friend, you know I’ll do whatever I can to help you feel happy, and that’s not going to change when we get to college. I’m always going to be here for you, helping and supporting you in every way I can. You’ve always been a great friend to me, and I want to be the same for you,” Alex said, making Jack smile.

“Thank you, Alex, that all means a lot to me. I still feel like I could’ve lived a little more in high school, and I wish I hadn’t isolated myself as much, but thank you for this. I’ve always compared my experiences to movies and shows, and it’s made me feel less than. I’m glad we’ve been friends for all of these years, and that we’ll be in college together,” Jack said, making Alex smile now, too.

“You’re so welcome. Fuck those movies and shows, dude, you did things your way, and that’s what matters. I’ll do my best to help you feel less isolated when we get to college. We’re going to make the next four years our definition of perfect. Fuck what the movies about college say is right, we’re going to do it our way,” Alex stated.

“You’re the best,” Jack said as they quickly hugged each other. While Jack was still a bit nervous to officially become an adult, he was glad to have Alex by his side, and that he was willing do what he could to help Jack through anything and everything.

A/N: Hey guys, I impulsively decided to write this last night! I've felt similarly to Jack in this, but I actually wrote it for a friend who's feeling this way right now. Obviously, I altered reality some to make it work, but I like how it turned out, and hope you guys do, too. To the person I wrote this for, I hope you liked it, and that it was helpful! Thank you all for reading, please send in requests if you have them! Lots of love, Liv.

[downtonabbeyrevisited]

Series One - Episode Four

The fair has arrived at Downton and with it another 47 minutes and 58 sections of madness. This was always going to be a tough episode, given that it follows the finest hour that British broadcasting has ever produced, but it does give us a real idea of what Downton Abbey viewing is going to be like from hereon in. Every plot point gets four lines or five minutes of total screen time (whichever comes first); the hint that Mrs Patmore is going blind gets a single line and there is a fleeting glimpse of Carson counting some wine. But there are some lovey arty shots of Downton and it’s grounds and it all goes a bit Ang Lee’s ‘figures in the landscape’. 

The poster for the Downton Village Fair advertises such delights as “Find the lady” and a “helter skelter” but it’s the “and other various other amusements” in fine print at the bottom that intrigues me: what’s the betting it’s a Laser Quest? Thomas takes this as an opportunity to further string Daisy along and take shots at William along the way whilst the latter rolls out his mediocre piano playing again. Mrs Patmore tries and fails to drop the hint to Daisy that Thomas is on another bus but this falls on deaf ears. Daisy later goes on to proclaim that Thomas has “lovely teeth” and I’d never noticed it before Daisy, but he does. Throughout the episode Thomas descends to bullying William and in doing so introduces Dark!Daisy (a tag I’m heartbroken to see has not yet made it’s way onto AO3) and solidifies Mr Bates’ role as emotional supporter/defender as he rams Thomas up against a wall, bringing the ‘Body Slam’ count to two in five episodes which seems like an awfully high ratio for a show based on a very much glossed over view of the past. 

Matthew, presumably taking a break from being Downton’s answer to Sarah Beeny, has also come to the fair and delights us all with a rather ineffectual tossing of balls at coconuts. Mary joins him and it turns out that they both have appalling aim. It’s a metaphor for everything and they are clearly made for each other. Later in the episode they will enjoy the world’s longest and most deliberately framed handshake but Mary’s mind is elsewhere. Kamal has remained very firmly with me for nine years having only seen a 2D rendering of his 3D form, so I can only imagine the sorts of things running around Mary’s head. But the guilt trip continues and I’m already at the stage of willing everybody just to chill. out. Given that all involved actually held it together on the night in question, the meltdowns now seem a bit late. Mary’s cry of “I’m a lost soul to you!” is a tad dramatic and I think we (Cora, the viewers, my dog that ran into the room thinking someone was being attacked) could live without it to be honest. There are plenty of fish in the sea Mary, and you’ve just go to choose one that doesn’t mind your dabbling with the vestiges of the Ottoman Empire and can adequately drive a car, in what can only be described as perfect motoring conditions, without crashing it.  

Also at the fair is Mrs Hughes and her alter ego Elsie. When asked if he was going to the fair, Carson’s eyebrows shot up in horror at the thought but maybe if he knew that smooth talking man of the people Joe Burns was around, he might have had a slightly different reaction. As it is, Carson doesn’t go and Elise goes to a pub to learn just how very 100% totally available Joe Burns is. Elsie receives a rather roundabout proposal before Joe demonstrates that he is yet another Downton character with appalling hand/eye co-ordination. However he perseveres and his victory at the ring toss is declared in a truly weird voice by an out of shot character (Seriously, watch it back: it’s haunting). Upon her return to life as Mrs Hughes, Thomas remarks that she was looking “sparkly eyed” and within seconds, Bates is there to admonish him. That man can move fast when he needs to. Later in the butler’s pantry, Mrs Hughes and Carson have a heart-to-heart with Carson looking steadily more uncomfortable whilst Mrs Hughes fondles a scarecrow. As the only montage that I can remember in Downton’s history shows, Mrs Hughes turned down Joe and Chelsie fans everywhere breath a sigh of relief. 

Whilst Matthew may be making his mark in the Abbey, his mother is not one to be outdone. Molseley’s hands have done something bizarre and in the twentieth century version of googling an innocuous cough to find that you have cancer, Cousin Isobel almost immediately hands him the diagnosis of erysipelas that requires some convoluted treatment that Molseley neither wants, or as it turns out, needs. Violet quickly brings the medical scores to a draw with Isobel as she makes up for the early dropsy debacle by correctly diagnosing Molseley with a Rue allergy. Clarkson, you can tell, is holding back the urge to do a little dance. 

The arrival of Branson and the entire geopolitical and cultural struggles of the Irish people creates a stir both upstairs and down. On day one he’s got his eye on the Earl’s library (although I can’t imagine that Robert has all three volumes of Das Kapital) and by day two, he’s eating in the wrong place and taking digs at the charitable efforts of the Abbey. But little does anyone know that King Julian has big plans for Branson and the smile that he gives as Sybil talks about women’s rights is very much the thin end of the wedge. Branson says that he is “quite political” before handing Sybil some pamphlets that he has collected about the vote. I do love Branson but he is the sort of person that I can totally see mansplaining things on Twitter. By the end of the episode it’s already escalated to Branson looking slightly creepily through a window as Sybil cosplays as Jasmine whilst the upper echelons of society look on mystified. 

Romantic declaration of the moment 

I’m giving this section over to Anna and her cold. Mr Bates appearing with a tray was rather lovely but does pose some questions: 

How did he go up all those stairs balancing both the tray, his presumably still quite mangled leg, the cane and the rest of his person? 

Did he go out in the dark with a pair of secateurs and cut those flowers? 

My only answer to those two questions is that fellow romantic Branson must have helped him: headcannon accepted. 

Expressive eyebrow of the week 

This award goes to the Earl this week for his reaction to Carson declaring that he would rather be put to death than work in a tea shop. The typically repressed English upper class “quite so” that escapes Robert’s lips is followed by a look of bemused alarm. If he were Fleabag, this is when he would have broken the fourth wall. 

Runners up prize goes to everyone’s face at The Trousers™  and Violet v. The Swivel Chair. 

Wait, what? 

“One can’t go to pieces at the death of every foreigner, we’d all be in a state of collapse whenever we opened a newspaper” Yet more evidence that Violet is the love child of Nigel Farage and Ann Widdecombe. 

“I have to go cap in hand to Mary Queen of Scots!” Lesley Nicol is having far too much fun playing Beryl. 

“It seems unlikely, a revolutionary chauffeur” Is Sybil aware of what period drama she is in?

“If you don’t change, you die” Or you do change, Matthew, and you die anyway.

“I won’t always be a chauffeur” is stated with some confidence which seems odd given the fact that when Branson stops being a chauffeur, he hates it and will indicate at any given moment this to the nearest available character.

”I took a lover with no thought of marriage. A Turk! Think of that!” I do Mary. Quite regularly.

I’m doing this rewatch on quite a fancy TV and as such I’m being afforded all sorts of visual delights that the resolution on my 2010 screen failed to yield. Perhaps the most troubling of these is that Thomas is going slightly grey at the sideburns. I would insert some pun about using ‘Just for Men’ here but I’ll leave you all to make up one yourselves. 

“If she’s got a boyfriend, I’m a giraffe” This seems like an analogy lost somewhere in translation. It has smacks of Gino D'Acampo’s grandmother. 

[signutai]

wonzon....19? :}

So! I guess this’ll be, like...a tiny next-day continuation of Lonely Places, Lonely People, so it might be just a lil confusing for folks who haven’t read that. Which, if you’re following me, I really hope you have.(Warning for minor descriptions of injuries. Cut for length, not content.)

Cross-posted to AO3 here!