#Some of you have already seen this b/c I sent it to you in private

[mystalwartheart]

A modern-ish music video about life in Venice, Los Angeles in the 1980s.

For anyone who wants an authentic glimpse into the world Jill lives in.

[sweet-luv-club]

✎ breastfeeding m! Kylar like he deserves ♡

. . . ˚✧.⊹ tags ⊹⁺. ೀ

2.5k words (wow im a horny bastard), informal writing, m! Kylar with cock, unprotected p in v sex, unrealistic sex, Kylar is a very submissive and pathetic (/affectionate) top, lactating pc from cow transformation, BIG GIANT TATAS and AFAB anatomy terms. u got coochie n it'll b called cunt and pussy but Kylar doesn't call u by either feminine terms or masculine terms so it's,,, gender-neutral reader-ish??

. . . ⋆ ꮺ˚⊹ notes ⊹ ༘˚

WHY BOTHER HAVING A BREAST MILK MECHANIC IF U CANT GIVE IT TO ANY OF THE LOVE INTERESTS... SMH VREL GET ON IT /LH also dis is a shoutout to da fellow transmascs like me that don't mind hvin big tatas 2 feed kylar <33 my first full fic i tink!! enjoy!!!

♡ ┆ u 2 are on a date at the park as usual. when u casually suggest it, his brain just stops working. his mouth hangs open and u have to shake him to snap him out of it. 

"uhh, haha, sorry, darling... c-could you repeat that?"

with a smirk, you do. you lean in and suggest going somewhere private so he could enjoy your milk directly from the source. all the blood in his cheeks rush to his cock almost immediately. he is so down bad for u, he's fucking floored u even suggested it.

♡ ┆ he gets more cocky, confident, and possessive during sex, but at this point, he's only squeezed your chest so far, not sure how he could even begin to explain himself. he’s seen u lactate when u cum, he just didnt know if it was overstepping a boundary to just dive in. its early into the relationship so he doesnt know if youre comfortable with that part of your bovine biology. hes a perv but hes also a polite boy!!  well... most of the time ♡ he couldnt just walk up to u and say i want ur milk babe, you deserve better than that, he just didnt know how to ask... so ofc he's over the moon you're the one who brought it up

♡ ┆ absolutely solidifies in his mind that you're an angel sent from heaven to protect him and love him

♡ ┆ he's a stinky little anime nerd /pos. pre-relationship, after you saved him from bullies, he draws u and ur cute fluffy cow ears and massive anime-like tits in all sorts of erotic ways. does all the hentai tropes. fists his needy, leaky cock at night to the drawings he's made of u. when you start dating, it was like he was walking on cloud 9 when you wanted to recreate some of his erotic drawings (bc ofc u pushed to see his sketchbook when he mentioned it was full of only u lol)

♡ ┆ cant go to the manor, kylar isnt comfy w that yet. cant be in pc’s bedroom, kylar doesnt even want a single chance of someone who knows you and lives with you to see u giving him milk, it's his and only his in sight, sound,,, and ofc taste. hed get jealous if other orphans u live with saw yall doing it, bc if they see he thinks theyre never gonna forget the sight..... which could lead 2 all sorts of trouble since they live with u and he doesnt. he wants it to only be his even in memory. PATHETIC /POS so yalls only option is a cheap-ass love hotel. maybe someday youll fuck somewhere nicer but this’ll have to do… not to mention kylar is thrumming w/ excitement. he’s fucking trembling at the mere thought of getting to taste your sweet milk, directly from your heavy chest which was always tempting him… PATHETIC /POS (1)

♡ ┆ at first, kylar cant get his bearings. he sits next to u on the bed, hands politely on his lap while his cock strains against his pants. hes strangely silent until u snap him out of it with a kiss on the cheek. “ah… d-darling, you don’t know how much this means to me.” he says in a shaky voice. you chuckle and slowly begin to lift your shirt, making sure to give him a show. the way your heavy tits laden with the milk he craves always looked like they were spilling out, your bra barely being able to hold them back never failed to do a number on kylar’s psyche. 

♡ ┆ ”c’mon, you’ve already seen me lactate. get me wet first, babe, then it’ll come out.” you tease as you unclasp your bra effortlessly and toss it to the side, your tits swaying with every movement you make. kylar is hypnotized. just a lot of spacing out in general until you two really get into it.

♡ ┆ your back is laid on the bed, and Kylar moves to get your pants and panties off. the sight never fails to make him breathless. he figures the quickest way to taste your sweet milk is to eat you out, so he does, very diligently. he dives in and devours your pussy like a man starved, he does this every time. he just can’t believe someone as perfect as you would willingly give yourself to him, and he wants to show his gratitude properly, always…

♡ ┆ this mf latches onto your cunt with an intense need and desperation. not only is he making his beloved feel good, he’s working to get your milk flowing as well… it makes him especially ravenous. licking up and sucking on your sensitive folds, using his hands to part your lips and plunge his tongue into you deeper… when you pat his fluffy, unkempt hair and moan… “fuuuuck yes, that’s it, good boy…” he goes absolutely ballistic in his brain. it goes w/o saying that he has a praise kink, loves giving and receiving it. he’s especially emboldened when he feels his head sandwiched between the softness of your thighs, he’s going delirious with need at this point, eyes all half-lidded and bleary, focused on nothing but lapping up the fluids your cunt makes. he's fucking groaning against your folds, can't get enough of your sweet taste. his cock is straining to be free right now, but your pleasure takes precedence.

♡ ┆ eventually, he takes your clit into his mouth and sucks hard, tongue swirling around it as he’s making you scream. “K-Kylar!!” it fills him with a sick thrill, like he’s letting all the strangers in this damn sleazy love hotel know that he’s the one making his darling cry out with pleasure. he pulls back for a moment, a string of saliva connecting between your cunt and his lips to smirk confidently at you. “that’s it, darling, let it all out.” he says, as he’s licking a broad stripe up your pussy, “let them all hear how much you love what i’m doing to you.”

♡ ┆ the moment he sees your tits drip with milk, he unlatches his mouth from your cunt with a soft pop, halting the intense suctions for now. his eyes sparkle with curiosity and hunger, seeing you laid out on the bed with your cheeks flushed, mouth hung agape from moaning so much just does something to his fucked up brain. he wastes no time capturing a nipple into his mouth and giving a hard suck, groaning when your milk hits his tastebuds. it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted…

♡ ┆ he kneads at your tit, trying to coax more and more milk out of you as your cow ears flicker atop your head. needless to say, he’s getting off on your moans, the taste of your creaminess, and the softness of your chest… he loves it. all of this, it’s only for him and him alone. he laminates your nipple with spit using his tongue, moaning as he drinks up every last drop. keeping a hand on your pussy, he gently bites down, making you yelp, yet he also felt your cunt twitch at the action… that gives him an idea for later. he shows love to your other breast, licking up all of the milk that had been dripping off to the side as his fingers rub at your pussy, the slick sounds making his head spin. his breaths are heavy and erratic as it fans over your exposed skin, adding a layer of eroticism from his desperation being conveyed this way. 

♡ ┆ finally… the moment he’d been waiting for. he releases his mouth and cups both of your heavy breasts, pressing them close together and sucking on both your nipples at the same time. wow… just like in his hentai mangas. the sensation makes you feel embarrassed, but you can’t deny how good it feels, either… as his fingers dig into your plush, large chest, he suckles, licks, and bites, doing anything to get more milk into his mouth again. some of it drips in between your chest, and it gives him a devious idea…

♡ ┆ he retreats for now, taking a finger to swipe up a drop of milk on his chin and lick it, a crazed hunger in his green eyes. he pulls down his pants and boxers… out comes his cock, blushed at the tip and leaky with pre-cum. “darling… would you be willing to hold up your chest for me, please?” he asks in a sweet voice, and you comply without question. you already knew what he was planning without him having to outright say it.

♡ ┆ he holds the sides of your breasts securely and moves up on the bed, positioning himself under your chest. you feel something hard underneath your boobs… and without further ado, Kylar thrusts his cock in. he moans so loud, breathing sooo heavily as he pistons his hips… he’s just in pure disbelief. the milk that had dripped between your chest earlier aids him in creating a slick passage between your pillowy tits. it takes him all his willpower to not immediately cum… which he inevitably fails. his cock splatters all over your chest, and a little bit gets on your face. “ah…!! i-oh no, i’m so sorry… i couldn’t help it, it just felt too good…” he pouts with a voice whinier than usual. you reassure him that it’s more than okay with a sultry smile, and you collect his cum with your fingers, licking it all up.

♡ ┆ the sight of you doing that of your own volition without him even asking to… grrr he’s going feral! and he realized you hadn’t cum once! that just won’t do. so while waiting for his cock to stiffen up again, he pulls out and lowers himself back down and thrusts a finger into your dripping entrance. he gets off on the sound of your moans, and he reaches down to take a nipple into his mouth again, the dual sensation of kylar’s suction and his finger curling inside you driving you mad. he establishes a rhythm with both actions, and it’s not long before he adds another finger into you, the squelching noises from your naughty pussy tempting him making his cock twitch back to life very quickly. as your inner walls tighten around his fingers, he searches desperately for your sweet spot while feverishly lapping up any milk from your breasts. and finally… he finds that one gummy mass inside you and just absolutely goes to town on it, making you cry out loudly. he reluctantly detached himself from your tit, and as his fingers were pressing down on your sweet spot, he held his hand firmly over your pubic mound, pressing down and quickening the pace of his fingers going in and out of you. it’s not long before you scream his name and cum on his fingers, soaking his hand in your precious nectar… not to mention your chest flowing with milk as well.

♡ ┆ he’s now hard again… and you take a moment to catch your breath. he’s too impatient this time, however, he wants to thrust into you now. you feel his cock press against your overly sensitive entrance but you manage to gently push him down onto the bed to take control of the situation. “ah ah ah. not so fast.  just came, ya horndog.” you tease lightly, while kylar groans and pouts. you reach down and press a kiss to his lips, your tongues meeting each other once again as they get entangled. you taste a hint of your own milk. kylar can feel your breasts pressing up against him, the weight making him get more needy and feverish with his kissing. his breath hitches when you start grinding your cunt onto him, tip of his cock leaking with cum onto his tummy as your pussy presses down on it. your hips buck back and forth on top of him as you take control, allowing yourself to rest while keeping kylar sated.

♡ ┆ when you’re finally ready to have sex, you teasingly bounce your cunt on the tip of his cock, and you see tears in his eyes. “pc- my love, come, on, let me in, pleasepleaseplease- ah!!” 

his babbling is interrupted by you finally giving him what he wants. as your velvety walls sink down onto him, threatening to overwhelm his senses, you press your breasts onto his face. “you know what to do.” you say with a flirtatious smirk. kylar immediately gets the memo, he’s been dying to do this since you first saved him. he latches onto your nipples and tugs down at your breasts while you start bouncing your pussy on his cock, the dual sensations driving you both mad.

♡ ┆ you’re expertly riding him as he whimpers helplessly beneath you, humping into him so hard the headboard slams into the wall from your passion. his mouth is overflowing with your milk like he wanted… his brain is just melting, much to your delight. your cow tail swishes behind you playfully as he grabs your plush hips and thrusts up into your movements, the sounds of your moans and wet slapping reverberating in the room. 

♡ ┆ the warmth and softness of your cunt makes him wanna cum again. poor boy… he was never good at lasting long. “kylar, hold yourself back right now or else i’m pulling myself off.” you tease, but he takes that to heart and whines in disappointment. “i’ll be good… i’ll be good, pc, i promise, just please dont, ah… leave me!” you smile at him. “i’m not leaving you dummy, ever.”

neuron activation time……. his eyes widen in disbelief as affection floods his heart. he grips your hips more firmly, thrusting up into you at such an animalistic pace that the poorly constructed bed almost sounds like it'll break. the plush of your ass bounces back on his lap, and it makes him grit his teeth trying to hold back. he has a fire in his eyes, as if his life’s whole purpose now was to make you cum on his cock. he bites down on a nipple like earlier and feels your cunt clench around him. he alternates between bites and hard sucks as his hips thrust desperately upward while you struggle to keep riding him. “that’s a promise, okay? dont! ever! leave! me!” he punctuates each word with a thrust deep into your womb, hell-bent on breeding you. 

♡ ┆ it’s not long before stars crowd around your eyes as you two climax together with your own loud moans, his semen flooding the depths of your warmth while your own cum coats his cock and drips down to his balls. your milk drips down your breasts again, and even though kylar is weak, he still manages to find it in himself to lick it up. as you catch your breaths, you two giggle conspiratorially, pressing your foreheads together and exchanging words of pure love and affection for one another… right before going back in for another round. you two rented out this room for an extended period of time, after all.

♡ ┆ now kylar takes whatever opportunity he can to bite and suck on your precious chest, pulling you in school closets or dark alleyways just so he can have a taste of your milk.

♡ ┆ ofc it’s not long until you both rent out a room at the hotel again, you going along with one of his crazy hentai recreations. it ends up with him on your lap and you, jerking off his sensitive cock, rubbing his pre-cum all over his shaft as he has his fill of your milk.

[hyperfixatedonthisnow]

Bound by blue ribbon

*not my GIF

Requested by: Anonymous - hiiii! If ya are still taking request!! Then may I get one of the ribbon scene from Rule of Wolves (I think???? I’m not surrrre) but it’s fem!reader x Nikolai? And instead of in her hair, it’s around her neck like a choker??

Just IMAGINE it with the classic character A walks down the staircase looking absolutely STUNNING and character B is s p e e c h l e s s trope! -

Dearest anon, I’m not sure I can properly convey just how much I loved this request. Like, you don’t understand, I am OBSESSED with how good this idea is! So much so that I was worried I wouldn’t be able to write anything that did it justice, but I tried my best. Hope you like it 🙏

Disclaimer (because I’m not looking to get sued): Some lines/dialogue directly borrowed from RoW, with a few minor changes. Obviously, I do not own those words and don’t claim to - they are the property of Leigh Bardugo and all rights belong to her and/or Netflix. Fanfic is for fun only; I am not making any money from this in any way.

Word count: 6Kish

Warnings: NSFW - 18+ only. Dual POV, idiots in love, fluff, the teeniest smidgen of angst if you squint, A little triumvirate cameo, more Genya than anyone - because someone needs to get these idiots together, soft!Nikolai, minimal plot, fem!reader, smut, oral sex (female receiving), P in V sex, unprotected sex (not recommended in real life!)

The party to celebrate Nikolai’s saints day was going to be beyond anything Ravka had ever seen before. Lavish decorations were being put up, the palace kitchens were working on a complicated menu, and the best musicians had been hired to perform. Nikolai hadn’t wanted such a fuss, but the triumvirate had invited every eligible maiden in the country, and most of the neighbouring countries as well, insisting that it was the perfect occasion for the king to finally choose a bride. Which was exactly why you had decided not to attend.

Nikolai had been your best friend since childhood, and you had been in love with him for more than half that time. Over the years, as you had grown from a child into a young woman, you had hoped that maybe he might see you in a romantic light, but unfortunately that hadn’t happened. You didn’t hold it against him, in fact you treasured his friendship, and you wanted only the best for him. You just weren’t sure your heart could withstand watching him fall in love with someone else.

The day of the party, you kept to your room, feigning illness. Nothing too serious, just a headache that would prevent you from attending the party, so that Nikolai could meet the potential woman of his dreams without you having to witness it. Unfortunately, sitting alone in your room all day gave you endless time to think, and your mind was determined to linger on thoughts of Nikolai with some faceless princess. Before dinner, you decided to take a bath, hoping to distract yourself. When you returned to your bedchamber, you found Genya lounging on your bed, alongside a large box.

You stared at your friend, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself. “How did you get in here? And why are you here, shouldn’t you be at the party already?”

“Unimportant,” Genya said breezily, waving her hand as if brushing the question aside, “and yes, I should, but someone had to help you get ready.”

You opened your mouth to tell her she needn’t have bothered but she cut you off with a disapproving click of her tongue. “Don’t waste your time trying to convince me you’re ill, I know that’s a lie.”

“Fine,” you huffed, “but I’m still not going, even if I wanted to - which I don’t - I have nothing to wear.”

Genya gave you a sly smile, holding out the envelope she had hidden in her hand. It bore the royal seal, and was addressed to you, but it had already been opened.

“Have you been reading my private correspondence?” You questioned, irritation bleeding into your tone.

“Mmm,” she hummed, not sounding sorry in the slightest, “it seems the king has sent you a gift. How very thoughtful of him.”

You eyed her suspiciously as you pulled the note from the envelope. The message was short, just two lines, written in Nikolai’s familiar cursive.

~ I hope you’ll wear this tonight. Lantsov blue looks good on you. N ~

Your brow furrowed in confusion. That shade of blue was reserved exclusively for the royal family. The closest you ever came to wearing it was a baby blue silk ribbon that you used to tie your hair back every day. A ribbon you had stolen from Nikolai himself, many months ago. He had been using the blue silk to tie his invention blueprints, keeping the rolls of parchment together and relatively organised when he wasn’t using them. On that afternoon, you had been wearing your hair down, but it was hot in his workshop, so you had pulled your hair back into a braid, snatching up the ribbon to secure it. You had meant to give it back, eventually, but then you had forgotten, and soon it had become a part of your daily wardrobe. You hadn’t even realised he had noticed it.

Genya opened the box to reveal a beautiful gown of pale blue silk, overlayed with a layer of tulle, embroidered in a galaxy of sparkling silver stars. You moved closer, lifting it from the box to finger the delicate fabric.

“See, problem solved.” She announced smugly.

“I can’t wear the king’s colour,” you protested.

“Clearly, he wants you to,” she argued, “would you really deny him?”

You gave her a withering look, “You know full well that I would never deny him anything,” you grumbled, “but people will talk.

“So? Let them,” she shrugged.

You bit your lip, deliberating. On the one hand, the thought of Nikolai buying a dress specially for you to wear on his birthday made your stomach flip pleasantly, but on the other hand, you had already decided not to go to the party and a pretty dress wasn’t going to change your mind. But surely it couldn’t hurt to just try it on … right?

“Well, you have to try it on, at the very least,” Genya insisted, as if she had read your mind, “a dress this beautiful deserves to be worn.”

“Alright,” you conceded, “but just for a moment.”

Genya smiled widely, clapping her hands together with glee.

The second you stepped into the dress, soft silk slipping over your skin, you knew you had made a mistake. Genya laced the corset up with practiced ease and when she was done, she stepped back to admire you. She gasped as she took in the full effect of you in the dress, and as you turned to look at yourself in the mirror you could see why. It fit you like a glove. The colour complemented your skin perfectly and the fabric clung to you in all the right places, accentuating your waist and the curve of your hips. The sweetheart neckline was so low as to almost be scandalous, putting your breasts on full display. You wondered what Nikolai had been thinking when he picked it out. If he had picked it out. Either way, now that you had seen it on, you knew you had no choice but to go to the party. A dress like this demanded to be seen. Genya fixed your hair, sweeping it into an elegant updo and leaving a few curls to fall loose around your face. You kept your jewelry light, diamond earrings and bracelet to match the stars on your dress, but none of the necklaces you tried were quite right. You didn’t want anything that would draw focus from the gown. Genya suggested your hair ribbon, and when you fastened the light blue silk around your throat as a choker, she helped you to tie it into a simple bow at the back.

“Perfect,” she declared, lips curving into a smile, and as you looked yourself over in the mirror you thought she might just be right. The two of you walked together to the ballroom, but when you got there, she dropped you off in the queue of nobles waiting to be announced, insisting you should make a grand entrance. She slipped away before you could argue, muttering something about how she couldn’t leave David unattended any longer, lest he use the opportunity to retreat to his workshop.

You waited at the top of the staircase, just out of sight, as your name was announced. Your heart pounded as you made your way down the stairs. It felt as though everyone’s eyes were on you, but then you saw Nikolai, standing at the foot of the stairs as if waiting for you, and suddenly everyone else melted away. It was just you, and him, and his eyes on yours like you were the only thing that mattered to him.

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Nikolai was having a dismal evening. So far, he had suffered through what felt like a lifetime of conversations, the longest of which was with the Kerch ambassador, a pompous peacock of a man with an impressively large moustache and unfortunately low IQ, followed by a highly uncomfortable discussion about politics with both the Shu and Fjerdan delegates. To top it off, every time he managed to escape, Zoya would appear with a new princess for him to meet, each one less suited than the last, and he would be forced to spend several painful minutes listening to them talk about their own virtues, of which there were many, apparently.

It seemed like everywhere he turned was some ambassador offering him thinly veiled threats disguised as polite conversation, or one of his ministers trying to push their own agenda whilst they had him alone, or worst of all, another pretty, but vapid, young lady, waiting to be thrust upon him as a potential bride. In truth, he wasn’t interested in any of it, because all he found himself thinking about was you.

As the minutes passed, he started to worry that you wouldn’t come, that you would leave him to deal with the vultures all on his own. And more than that, he worried that he had overstepped with his gift. He had been full of confidence when he helped to design it, chosen every detail to compliment you perfectly, but now he was second guessing himself. Would you like the gown? Would you understand his meaning, about you looking good in blue? Would you return his feelings? He wasn’t sure.

He was contemplating this - whilst only half listening to one of his ministers drone on about the dangers of allowing farmers to have control over their own crops, when Genya suddenly appeared at his side. She politely excused them both from the conversation, pointedly ignoring the minister’s indignation at being interrupted, and looped her arm through Nikolai’s, pulling him away. She led him quickly across the room to stand near the bottom of the stairs.

“Stay right here.” She instructed him sternly, and Nikolai could only blink at her, perplexed, before she was gone, melting back into the crowd without even giving him a chance to respond.

He felt a prickle of annoyance at being ordered around, honestly, wasn’t he the king? He considered walking away just purely on principle, no matter how childish that might be, but then he heard your name being announced, and he wondered if Genya had known. He looked up, his heart hammering in his chest, and when you walked out onto the staircase, he thought it might have stopped beating altogether. You were wearing the gown he had picked out, your hair curled and styled perfectly, and around your throat, that scrap of pale blue silk that haunted his dreams. Usually, you wore it in your hair, and it was eminently practical, but it had the unfortunate effect of making him want to untie it. Seeing it around your throat made that idea all the more appealing. You were stunning. He realised his imagination had not done you justice, could not even come close. The sight of you quite literally took his breath away.

He reached out almost automatically as you got near enough, offering you his hand, and you took it, letting him guide you down the last few steps.

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“Hi,” you breathed once you were standing face to face, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, but Nikolai just stared at you, slack-jawed, for what felt like an eternity. You began to fidget, feeling self-conscious.

“Do I look ok?” You asked, smoothing down your dress nervously.

He shook his head. “‘Ok’ would be a gross understatement,” he said, “You are a vision.”

Your face lit up in a smile, pleased at the compliment, and you could feel the warmth of a blush spreading across your cheeks. Nikolai dropped your hand, and you almost mourned the loss, but then he pressed his hand to the small of your back instead, and all you could focus on was that intimate point of contact as he led you away from the stairs and further into the room.

“I was beginning to think you had abandoned me,” Nikolai said, his mouth tipping up into a small smile.

“I wasn’t sure I’d come,” you found yourself admitting quietly, “but then someone sent me this beautiful gown, and I changed my mind.”

“You like it?”

“I do,” you assured him, “Thank you. It’s a very generous gift, although it’s your birthday, shouldn’t I be the one giving you a gift?”

“You deserve it,” he said, voice low in your ear, “and seeing you in this dress is a gift for me.”

You were sure you were blushing again. Was he flirting with you? Surely not, that had to be wishful thinking on your part.

“Do you want to dance?” You asked, changing the subject lest you embarrass yourself.

“Yes,” he murmured as he took your hand again, leading you out onto the floor.

He held you close as you moved together through the steps of the dance, effortlessly in sync. You focused completely on him, enjoying the intimate feeling of being pressed against him, his eyes on yours and his hands warm on your body. Being so close to him was the sweetest kind of torture, and you quickly began to feel overheated, as your mind inevitably drifted to all the other ways you could enjoy being close to him, of his hands in much more intimate places. You looked around, trying to clear your head, and you realised that it hadn’t been just your imagination, people were staring, but you found that you didn’t care at all. As your eyes met his again, you were surprised to see that same feeling of desire reflected back at you. Maybe it wasn’t just wishful thinking after all.

When the dance ended, he asked if you wanted to get some air, and you agreed, following him across the room and out into the hallway.

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

Nikolai pulled you into an alcove, just off the main hallway. It was quieter here, with less chance of being seen or overheard.

“Genya and Zoya won’t be happy when they realize you’ve ditched your own party,” you told him, “They’re determined to find you a wife tonight.”

“I don’t care,” he said honestly, “and I’m not interested in any of those girls.”

“You must marry, Kolya. You can’t put it off forever,” you insisted, even though it pained you to say it. “You’ll have to choose someone eventually.”

“You’re the only one I would choose.” He confessed. The words were out before he thought better of them, and there was no way to pull them back.

You studied him carefully, your heart racing. “As your friend?” You asked, offering him a chance to right the ship, to take you back to familiar waters.

He could have lied, could have given you a hundred different easy replies. Instead, he said, “As my queen.”

“Because I’m dependable,” you said cautiously, tentatively, “or because I know all of your secrets?”

"I do trust you more than myself sometimes- and I think very highly of myself." He said, and you huffed a laugh, convinced that any moment now he would take it all back.

“But I would make you my queen because I want you. I want you all the time."

You wanted to tell him that you wanted him too, that he was the only man you had ever wanted, or ever would want, but it wasn’t that simple. He was your best friend, and he was also your king, and you had to be practical. “As your friend, I should tell you that would be a terrible decision. You should make a political choice, take some foreign princess as your bride. Someone who was born to be a queen.”

He met your eyes, voice steady and earnest when he said, "As your king, I should tell you that no one could dissuade me. No prince and no power could make me stop wanting you."

Nikolai felt drunk. You were going to laugh at him. You would knock him senseless and tell him he had no right. But he couldn't seem to stop.

"I would give you a crown if I could," he said. "I would show you the world from the prow of a ship. I would choose you, as my friend, as my queen, as my bride. I would give you a sapphire the size of an acorn." He reached out, fingers brushing over the blue silk ribbon tied around your throat. "And all I would ask in return is that you wear this damnable ribbon on our wedding day."

You should say no, you should tell him he was making a mistake, but you couldn’t. You wanted him too, and not just tonight, but forever. You wanted a future with him, and if you closed your eyes, you could see it, as clear as day. Standing at an altar set before the Saints as a priest named you man and wife. Mornings spent together, eating breakfast and sipping coffee while you discussed the day ahead, and nights spent tangled together in his sheets, sweaty and sated. Soft touches and words of affirmation whispered in the early morning light. Two - or maybe three - golden-haired children, with your eyes and his smile, running about the palace, happy and loved, and constantly getting into mischief. A million inside jokes, and shared looks, and fights about nothing, easily forgiven. A lifetime of moments, big and small, side by side with him. You wanted it all.

“Yes,” you said simply, meeting his gaze.

“Yes?” He repeated, as if he didn’t dare to believe it.

He cupped his hand to your cheek, his palm warm against your jaw. His thumb brushed lightly across your cheekbone, and when your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip, his eyes followed the movement. You wanted him to kiss you, so badly that you ached with the need of it. You tilted your head up slightly, lips parted in invitation.

He dipped his head, then paused, lips hovering just inches from yours as he searched your eyes, waiting for permission. The heat of his gaze was like flames across your skin. You leaned into him, pressing a hand to his chest and you could feel his heart racing beneath your palm. “Yes,” you said again, barely above a whisper, and he bent his head forward, finally, touching his lips to yours. His kiss was soft and sweet, just the barest brush of his lips over yours, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. You made a needy sound, chasing his lips when he moved away, and his mouth curved into a smile.

He pressed you back against the wall, his hands settling on your hips and then his mouth was on yours once more, and this time there was nothing tentative about it. His tongue met yours hungrily, desperately, swallowing your sounds of pleasure. You grabbed a handful of his shirt, crushing the fabric beneath your fingers as you hauled him closer, but it still wasn’t close enough. You reached down with your free hand, tugging your skirts up so that you could curve your leg up around him and he groaned low in his throat, his hand immediately dropping from your waist to the bare skin of your thigh.

He pushed his hips forward, and you could feel the proof of his arousal, pressing against you intimately. You gasped, tipping your head back against the wall. He ducked his head, his tongue darting out to taste the smooth skin of your exposed throat, and he nipped lightly at your pulse point before trailing kisses down to the dip of your shoulder and along your collarbone.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, teeth just barely grazing your skin, and your eyebrows knitted in confusion, wasn’t he doing that already?  

“I want to taste you,” he said, his fingers skating up and over your inner thigh to press at you lightly over the lace of your underwear. Oh. The thought of having his mouth on you, there, sent a wave of heat straight to your core.

“Yes,” you murmured after just a brief hesitation, and his smile turned wicked as he sank to his knees in front of you.

You hiked your dress higher, bunching the fabric above your hips so that you could watch him as he dragged your underwear slowly down your thighs and helped you step out of them. He stuffed the scrap of lace into his pocket, before he ran his hand up your calf, bending your knee and then lifting your leg to rest it over his shoulder. He kissed a path from your knee up your inner thigh towards your centre and then he stopped, warm breath ghosting over you and eyes fixed on your core, until you began to squirm. He stilled you with a firm hand on your hip.

“Nikolai,” you started, but you were robbed of the power of speech when he leaned in, his face disappearing between your thighs.

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

He licked a broad stripe across you with the flat of his tongue and you gasped, your hand shooting down to fist in his hair. He licked into you slowly, nose bumping your clit, until you were writhing and panting above him. His fingers worked you over, drawing lazy circles over your clit as he explored every inch of you with his lips and tongue. He dipped two fingers inside you, moving them in and out, crooking them slightly to search for that spot that would have you seeing stars and he knew he had found it when you moaned, clenching around him.

Nikolai had always enjoyed this, drawing pleasure from his partner with his mouth and hands, and he prided himself on being good at it, but he had never found it such a turn on before. His pants were uncomfortably tight, and he thought he could probably come untouched, just from the taste of you and the sounds you made. He turned his head for a moment to draw a ragged breath, and he smiled against your inner thigh when you whined impatiently, using your grip on his hair to drag him back where you wanted him.

He went easily, happy to oblige you, and this time he closed his lips around your clit, sucking it against his tongue. You cried out, your hand tightening in his hair hard enough to make his scalp prickle. He kept the pressure of his mouth gentle but non-stop, as your thighs began to shake, your hips jerking against his face. He couldn’t hold back his moan as he felt your body shuddering, his mouth flooded with wetness when you found your release. He worked you through it, lapping at you gently until finally, you pushed him away with a shaky hand.

He shifted from his knees back to his feet, and you reached for him as he stood, wanting to keep him close. His hair was sticking up at all angles, mussed by your hands, his cheeks flushed, and his lips tilted in a lopsided smirk. He looked utterly debauched in the best possible way. You swiped your thumb across his bottom lip before you leaned in to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue, and you were surprised to find that it wasn’t unpleasant.

You reached a hand down between your bodies, to cup him over his pants and he groaned, pushing himself into your palm. A door opened somewhere, the sounds of the party drifting out into the hallway, and you froze, the illusion of privacy shattered.

The noise from further down the hallway brought Nikolai back to his senses so suddenly, he felt like he’d been doused in ice water. Had he completely lost his mind? Your first time together shouldn’t be like this, frantic and dirty, pushed up against a wall in a public place, where anyone could discover the two of you at any moment.

“I’m sorry,” he said breathlessly, “I got carried away, I shouldn’t have … this wasn’t…”

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, trying to find the right words. You deserved better from him. You deserved a white veil, and matching rings, and a promise made at an alter set before the Saints. He wanted to give you all of that, and he would, but not tonight. Tonight, he could at least give you a soft bed, and gentle hands, declarations of love whispered in the dark. Romance, because you deserved that if nothing else.

He pulled back, letting you drop your skirts down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You felt your face fall before you could stop it.

“Oh,” was all the response you could muster, the sting of disappointment sharp, and so bitter you could almost taste it. You closed your eyes, willing away the tears that threatened to form. Was he saying this was a mistake? Had he changed his mind? Had you done something wrong?

“I only meant, we should go somewhere more private,” he said, watching you carefully.

“Oh,” you said again, relief flooding through you.

“Unless… if you’d rather return to the party, that’s fine too.” He clarified.

“I don’t,” you said quickly, and you almost blushed at how eager you sounded.

“No?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow at you.

You gave him a smile that you hoped was sultry. “No. Take me to bed,” you purred, and you knew you’d hit the mark when his eyes darkened in response.

He took your hand, guiding you through the palace hallways until you reached his rooms. He opened the door for you, ever the gentleman, allowing you to enter first, and then he followed you inside, locking the door swiftly behind him. There would be no more interruptions tonight, not if he could help it.

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

You came to a stop by the foot of the bed, waiting for him to join you. He crossed the room in just a few quick strides, pulling you into his arms, and then his mouth was on yours again, hot and demanding. You let your hands roam, over his shoulders and into his hair, before the desperate need to feel his bare skin against yours took over, and you set to work on removing his clothes.

Your nimble fingers made light work of the knot in his cravat, pulling it loose and free of his collar in just a few short movements, and you quickly moved on to his shirt, opening the first few buttons. He pulled back for just enough time to yank the shirt off over his head, and then he was back to kissing you like his life depended on it. When you moved to unbutton his pants, your knuckles inadvertently brushing up against his hardness, he groaned low in his throat and pulled away again, this time to spin you around so that he could unlace your corset and free you from your dress.

He placed kisses across your shoulder, and down the length of your spine as it was revealed to him and once you were completely nude before him, he wrapped an arm around your waist to tug you back against him, his clothed arousal against your bare ass. You brought your hands up to your throat to untie your ribbon, but he stopped you. “Allow me, he murmured, voice low and rough in your ear. He hooked a finger into the bow at the back of your neck, tugging gently until it unravelled, soft silk sliding over your skin, and then he curled it up to put into his pocket, joining your underwear from earlier.

He cupped your breast, thumb circling your nipple until it hardened into a peak, while his other hand travelled down the side of your ribs and across your lower abdomen to your core. You moaned as his fingers found their mark, dipping inside you to gather the wetness there before rubbing gentle circles over your clit. Only once you were panting, your head falling back against his shoulder, and your hips moving in small circles along with his hand, did he nudge you in the direction of the bed. You took the hint, though you were loath to give up the delicious friction of his talented fingers. You moved to sit on the edge of the bed first, watching with bated breath while he took off the last of his own clothes.

Once he was undressed, you scooted backwards onto the bed, so that you were positioned comfortably on the pillows, and he climbed over you, covering the length of your body with his. You gasped as you felt his erection pressing against you, almost, but not quite, in the right place. He pinned one of your hands to the bed beside your head, fingers twining with yours as he dipped his head to kiss you, licking into your mouth until you were both breathless. You bent your leg up around his hip, opening yourself up for him instinctively and he kept his eyes on yours as he flexed his hips, entering you at an agonizingly slow pace. You were warm, and wet, and perfect, and you dug your heel into the back of his thigh, urging him deeper. He groaned, his eyes slipping closed and his hand squeezing yours tightly.

Once he was fully seated inside you, he had to stop. He let his head drop to your shoulder and he held completely still, desperately fighting to get a grip on his self-control. Late at night when he lay alone in the dark, his wildest fantasies playing out behind his eyelids, it was your face he saw and your name on his lips when he came. He had dreamed of having you so many times, in a thousand different ways, but nothing could compare to the reality. It was as if he was suddenly a boy of sixteen again, green and eager, ready to spill himself at the slightest hint of friction. You shifted beneath him, wriggling impatiently and only once he was sure he would not embarrass himself, did he raise his head to look at you.

“Sorry,” he said, the corner of his mouth tipping up into an amused little smirk, “did you need something?”

You just barely resisted the urge to smack him, and instead clenched your inner muscles around him, watching with a smug sense of satisfaction as his eyelids fluttered, the smirk dropping from his face.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his eyes dark with arousal as they met yours, but he still didn’t move.

“Please,” you begged, and you would have been embarrassed by how needy you sounded if not for the way that his hips bucked in response.

He dipped his head, slanting his mouth over yours as he withdrew slowly, almost completely, only to fill you again with a sharp thrust of his hips. His hand was warm in yours, palms pressed together, and fingers intertwined, the connection anchoring you as he started to move in earnest, settling into a perfect, maddening rhythm that was somehow altogether too much, and yet not enough at the same time.

The muscles in his biceps were straining with the effort of holding himself up and you wrapped your arm around his shoulders, pulling him down on to you until his chest was flush with yours. He nuzzled at your throat, as he maintained his languid pace, drawing out your mutual pleasure for as long as he possibly could, and you were torn between the desperate need to climax, and the desire to stay entwined with him like this forever.

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

When he felt the beginnings of his own climax, Nikolai reluctantly released your hand so that he could slip his between your bodies to thumb at your clit. Within moments, he felt you tightening around him, your orgasm beginning to ripple through you, and he kept the movement of his hips slow and steady, drawing it out until you were writhing beneath him. He removed his hand as the last tremors ran through your body, and he lifted his head, mouth finding yours, as he finally allowed himself release. He sheathed himself fully inside you, as he shuddered and came.

He collapsed onto you, pressing you into the mattress, and you stroked your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him close, as you both struggled to catch your breath. Your bodies were tangled together, completely enveloped by each other, and neither of you wanted to move.

“I love you,” he murmured after a moment, turning his head so that he could press a kiss to your temple.

“I love you too,” you assured him, holding him tighter.

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

In the morning, you had woken early and taken the opportunity to study Nikolai in the light of the sunrise, his face relaxed and boyish in sleep, and when he woke, he had nudged you onto your back and made love to you again. That had been followed by a bath, in which you both ended up dirtier than you had been upon getting in, and a second one - strictly for getting clean, and one horrifyingly awkward conversation with your maid, during which the girl giggled and blushed furiously, as you begged her to bring you something to wear. All of this meant that it was late, long past noon, when the pair of you finally emerged from his room.

You walked hand in hand to the council room, where the triumvirate were already assembled. Genya and Zoya were standing over the table, heads bent as they looked over a map, talking quietly together. David sat across from them, scribbling away, fingers stained with ink. Genya lifted her head as you entered, smiling knowingly at you.

Nikolai cleared his throat. “I… well, we, have something important to tell you all,” he announced. “We’re getting married.” Subtle as ever.

“Thank the Saints,” Zoya muttered, without even looking up, “I thought I’d be old and grey before you two ever got your act together.”

“I told you it would work!” Genya said gleefully.

You and Nikolai shared a confused look. “What worked?” You asked.

“The party,” Zoya explained, speaking very slowly, as if she were talking to a pair of particularly dim children, “the one we planned, to push you both into admitting you’re in love with each other, obviously.”

You both just stared at her.

“Someone had to do it,” she continued with a shrug, “Saints knows neither of you were going to do it on your own.”

“I would have done it without your intervention,” Nikolai said defensively, “eventually.”

“Yes, of course you would,” Genya said mildly, her tone just on the edge of patronising.

Nikolai pinched the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes shut in frustration. “So, just to be clear - you conceived an elaborate plot, which involved throwing an expensive party with hundreds of guests, and making me suffer through hours of mind-numbing conversation with prospective “brides”, all so that you could manipulate us into confessing our feelings for each other?”

“I wouldn’t say manipulate,” Genya objected, “more like give you a loving shove in the right direction.”

“A brilliant plan, really,” David piped up, “and, clearly, effective.”

Genya smiled fondly at him. “Thank you, dear.”

And suddenly it all made sense, the way Genya had come to insist you go to the party, the way she had pushed you to wear the dress even though it was Lantsov blue, the fact that she had made you wait to be announced, and that Nikolai had mysteriously been waiting for you the moment you entered the room. The mysterious coincidence that all the young ladies Zoya had introduced to him were almost comically unsuitable. They had engineered it all.

You couldn’t stop the grin that spread over your face. Perhaps you should have been upset by the idea that they had manipulated you both, but honestly you weren’t. You shared another look with Nikolai. He shook his head exasperatedly, but he was smiling now too, and you knew he shared your feelings on the matter. This whole charade might have been ridiculous, but how could you hold it against them, when it had resulted in the happiest night of your lives.

[lizzheartss]

B E I N G W I T H L I Z A T S C H O O L

you know how they say : She was Dolly at school

Look at her, she’s just not made for school.

Ok first of all, in starters her dad didn’t even want to send her to a public school, home school was fine, but her envious mother thought that if others knew that she was sent to a public school she was going to be seen as a know-it-all and boys would have grown tired of her, of course it didn’t work.

she was brilliant, full grades in all subjects, never skipped a grade never saw a digit lower than 90, colleges and universities already started to crawl around her as she entered middle school, her father was happy, just like always the Myoi clan was one of the bests in grades and schoolwork.

the decision of sending her to Ryoutei high school Academy was sudden, the whole clan war happened, and she was forced to go from her fancy all girls private school, to this shithole full of spoiled kids and morons.

and then she met you.

you were forced to become her partner in crime, she passes the E N T I R E day with you, you actually thought that she was going to leave you alone with all those hormonal girls that wanted some blood to suck and some guy to fool? How cute. Even if she comes from a healthy background and has drivers that can take her to the moon if asked, if you are one of those students that uses public resources such as bus and train, well first you had to explain to her that she needs the train ticket and that she can’t just yell at the train cap that you could afford the whole train because she didn’t want to wait in line for stamping the ticket, then she made the big sacrifice to take those with you.

it lasted less than one week, so you started to take the limousine with her, like a royal she travels in that 3 meters long expensive mean of transport, black and shined like a coin, she was calm again, in the car you two talked, she copied your homework, of course she had to go tailor a new dress for the important dinner with some prime minister of who remembers what clan! She didn’t have time to write an essay about prokaryotic and eukaryotic cells, her life’s hard!

When the driver drops ya’ll to school, the two of you get all type of looks, girls from lower clans that hate her, guys that are fighting for being noticed by her, other guys that are holding back from killing you as if a sore human deserves all that attention, other girls talking shit about her on how spoiled she is, and then the bell rings.

Now being in class with her is a roller coaster, she harassed the secretary so you two had the same exact classes, so ypu have to bare whatever nonsense she does, and believe me she does a lot, she’s like that annoying kid that you as a teenager have to babysit, sleeps in class, skips class, sometimes listens, sometimes doodles, sometimes passes notes to you writing how boring this class is, or….

“go shoot that damn Julius Caesar”

“we should’ve skipped this class”

“i’m snacking give me your water i didn’t bring mine”

“let me copy your math homework” “why? Didn’t you have the evening free yesterday?” “yes but i went shopping for a new hair curler instead, since i had the evening free”

you sigh, how can her grades make her rate 3rd in the whole school of she doesn’t do a damn thing at home or school? A mistery, then it is lunch time, you to usually lunch in two places: Library or Garden, you usually make your own lunch or buy from stores just like everyone else, she probably made you buy a matching lunch box, she wanted her chef to cook your school lunch everyday, you refused at least you had to make your own lunch since she already gives you a ride home and school and wanted to hire someone to do your homework and substitute you in tests, she has the prettiest lunches, her most eaten meal is sandwiches, she loves how everything can fit inside two pieces of white bread, she asks her chef to make tons of all with different ingredients, and brings water with her of course, most of times she asks her chef to sneak donuts in her lunch box for you, or directly buys desserts for the two of you to enjoy from 5 Michelin starts pastries.

then the day ends, more likely you babysitting shift ends, the two of you rarely hang out after school, maybe just a quick trip to the crepes stender for a snack, but usually you have to go at her home for making her get her homework done.

[ynscrazylife]

Hey !! i love ur writing style <3 i wanted to ask you if you could write a loki x reader where the reader and loki have been best friends for a long time now and after he faked his death in tdw he knocks on their door and the reader and loki have an argument and then they kiss?? maybe like the scene in crimson peak “you lied to me” “i did” “you told me you loved me” “i do” smth similar? :)

The Greatest Deception | loki angst fluff fic

Summary: After Loki reveals himself to be alive, Y/N has some choice words to say. Loki has a question.

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting! Also, I want to say that I fully support and acknowledge that Loki is genderfluid. Seeing as this fic was requested with Loki having he/him pronouns, I will use those pronouns. (Also, I didn’t know which pronouns you wanted me to write since you mentioned they for the reader but typically I use she/her, so lemme know if you want that edited)

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2 |  Main Masterlist 

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/someiconsx

“Lady Y/N?”

The voice was muffled through the door and the one in question rolled from her side and onto her stomach as she laid in her bed. A low groan emitted from the creature whose limbs were tangled in the blanket and sheets.

. . .

“Lady Y/N?”

A short knock-knock accompanied the repeating words, and Y/N had a feeling of that the lovely woman who she’d love to talk to at any other time wouldn’t stop until she replied.

She pulled herself into a sitting position, smoothed over her unruly hair, and finally pulled the covers up so her pajamas wouldn’t be seen and called out, “Come in!”

The woman opened the door and sent her a sheepish smile. “The All-Father has requested your present, ma’am,” she informed her.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Do you know the reason as to why?” She quizzed.

The woman spared a quick, darting glance at Y/N’s window. “Well, the All-Father has requested all of the palace’s royals and higher-ups to gather in the courtyard. He is gathering local citizens for a, ah, play, and more would like, in this words, his ‘most esteemed confidants to enjoy,’,” she answered, subtly bouncing her weight from one foot to the other.

Y/N thought for a moment. This was the first time she was hearing that the King was holding a play — not to mention, the fact that the last play (if you could even call it that, because by Heimdall’s recounting it was horrific) was held before any of the children of Odin were born.

Just thinking about that caused a twinge to hit her stomach and for it to twist up. Loki. Odin’s youngest child and the one that had most recently left her, as he sacrificed herself to save his vaillant brother, Prince Thor. It had been weeks, maybe even a month, since Y/N had heard the news and had been resorted to a lonely, saddened version of herself. Loki was her best friend, the person she trusted more than anything and—no, no, who was she kidding? He’s more than that, and he deserves to be remembered as more than that by her.

He’s also the one that she loves, and has loved for at least the past year when she realized it.

Nonetheless, she had taken many steps to get through the grief of Loki’s dead — as had his father — and she wasn’t going to let all her hard work crumble down on one, singular thought.

“Very well, then. Please inform the All-Father that I will be there shortly, thank you,” she said.

The woman nodded and bowed her head before exiting.

Once the door had been fully shut and she could hear footsteps no more, Y/N crossed over to her window and drew back the curtains, not having missed the look at said window.

The sunlight poured into her room but the stage was indeed sent. Rows of fine chairs sat with rows of fine people in them. In front, Odin stood with a red curtain drawn closed behind him. His arms were gesturing wildly and he had a big grin on his face as he gave his speech.

Despite the curiosity that itched into Y/N’s face, she pushed it aside. She had never seen the King conduct himself in such ways, but alas, everyone grieved differently. So, she closed the curtains and got dressed for the day ahead.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

The moment Y/N stepped outside, she could’ve sworn that there was already long beads of sweat trailing down her skin. She let out a huff but journeyed on towards the courtyard, as this formal royal wear was necessary and she had no intention of pissing off Sir Snotty-Dickhead — as she called him (he had some fancy and long name she couldn’t remember, in her defense) — who was Odin’s right hand man.

By the time she got there, Odin was still rambling on with his speech, but his sudden notice of Y/N saved the guests from boredom.

“Aha, the guest of honor! Lady Y/N, herself,” Odin announced, bringing his hands together in a clap and gesturing for her to come toward him.

She betrayed herself and her cheeks involuntarily reddened as all eyes laid on her. She approached Odin and curtsied out of respect, but her mind was full of wonderings of why she, of all, would be singled out.

“I’m sure you all know who Lady Y/N is, yes?” He began, briefly pausing before continuing. “If you sadly do not, let me tell you. Lady Y/N had been a friend of the royal family, specifically my child, Loki’s—” the name caused her to suck in a sharp breath, “—and she was granted the title of Lady to uphold the image of the palace and to complete very important Asgardian duties.”

Once he stopped talking and the crowd clapped politely, Y/N took the opportunity she was presented before it’s door could close and quickly went and sat in her seat, the only seat not occupied yet, in the front row.

Odin then began speaking against whilst he walked to the side, “Speaking of my dear child Loki, this play that has been put together is one designed to honor him and his heroic sacrifice. Without further ado . . . ” He let his words trail off, and the red curtain pulled open.

Y/N’s face contorted into surprise at the words, not expecting this to take place. Again, she reminded herself, everyone grieved differently, so she decided to give it a chance. However, as the play went on, she was quick to realize that honoring Loki wasn’t the intention here. The horrid acting could be excused but Odin himself allowing this mockery of how Loki died? Of how he sacrificed himself? Well, with every second that passed, her face heated more and more — and not due to the sweat — and she grit her teeth, just barely refraining from yelling.

The worst part for her came though when the actor who played Loki did a dramatic reenactment of his sacrificed and the actor who played Thor did the worst fake crying ever. Y/N turned to the others, expecting them to be just as enraged as she was, but was floored to find that no—they were laughing. And not just that, but Odin was having himself a chuckle as well!

Her fingers tightly gripped the edges of her chair and she forced herself to look straight ahead, just about able to hold in her tears until the play was over and the actors bowed.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

Afterwards, while everyone was standing and giving Odin rounds and rounds of praises, Y/N stayed rooted in her seat. She couldn’t just let this go by as if it were nothing, but she was struggling to compose herself to confront him.

After a couple minutes of going back-and-forth, she decided, screw composure. She didn’t have to be composed. She was allowed to be angry.

So, she stood up and marched straight for him.

“All-Father,” Y/N said through grit teeth, forcing herself to curtesy, “I request your company in private, if I may.”

It took Odin a moment to tear himself away from accepting his latest comment, but the way he quickly glanced over at Y/N, she knew that he had not noticed — or perhaps he did not care — the state she was in.

“My apologies, Lady Y/N, but should I depart now, I fear I shall upset my comrades!” Odin said, ending his comment in a boastful joy, which resulted in laughter and cheers.

He didn’t wait for her response before engaging in another conversation, and Y/N’s lips remained tightly shut until she decided to just go forth and let her stuffed-up emotions out.

“Fine. I will say it in front of everyone, then!” She said, firmly and loudly, gaining everyone’s attention. “That was a pathetic excuse to remember Loki . . . It was an insult! You mocked him, your own child! How could you even— I . . . I just don’t understand . . . He sacrificed himself for your son and for Asgard and this is how you repay him? God. I expected much, much more from you for him because I . . . Let’s just say that we both love Loki, in our own ways, and I-I . . . I am very disappointed.”

Wanting to flee from the tears that were now streaming down her face and from the silence that was pounding, she turned around and she walked away, the realization that she had just confessed her love in front of everyone hitting her.

“Lady Y/N!”

Odin’s words stopped her in her tracks, but she did not turn around. Just stood. Waited.

“He told Thor, before he passed, that he, uh . . . He loved you, too.”

Y/N stared straight ahead, her hand jutting out to grab the pillar next to her to steady herself.

Loki loved her?

She didn’t stop the tears from coming this time. She let them, and the sobs, overwhelm her.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Lady Y/N?”

The voice and the knock were much more stiff than they were this morning.

“Come in.”

Her response was devoid of emotion, much more curt than it was this morning.

The same woman turned the door’s knob and opened it, sending Y/N, who was curled up on her bed, head nestled into her knees, a wary look. “The All-Father has requested your presence at his quarters,” she said.

Y/N let out a small huff, in no mood to talk to the King after what had happened. She forced her head up and gazed boredom at the woman. “Is it an emergency?” She deadpanned.

The woman looked around the room and by her lack of response, Y/N knew that either she didn’t know or didn’t want to say.

She sighed. “I will be there shortly,” she said.

The woman nodded and wordlessly left.

After she did, Y/N stood up and went in front of her mirror, taking in her appearance. Her once brushed hair was now frizzy and in knots and her eyes were puffy and red. Angrily, she practically tore the hairbrush through her hair and dabbed at her eyes with makeup until the red could be seen no more. She had no intention of letting him see her this way.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

Screw formalities, Y/N thought, as she walked straight into Odin’s quarters which composed of a small living room, a bedroom down the hall, an office, and a bathroom. She didn’t bother to curtsy or announce her presence.

When he finally and gradually turned around from whatever he was doing, a slight look of shock crossed his features, before he replaced it with a warm smile. “Y/N!” He said, but quickly corrected himself, “Lady Y/N.”

Y/N frowned and crossed her arms. “I hope that you have called me here to apologize,” she said, an icy edge to her voice.

Odin nonetheless looked at her kindly. “In a way, yes,” he vaguely said, before a magical transformation underwent before her.

His wrinkles disappeared, his beard disappeared, his grey hair turned jet black, and his clothes transformed into his usual wear.

No longer was the All-Father standing in front of her, but her best friend. The one she loved.

Taken by utter shock, Y/N instinctively stumbled back, her jaw dropping and her eyes widening. “What the hell is this?” She gasped out, not wanting to believe it at first. It was a cruel trick — it must be! There was no way.

“It’s me,” the mischievous deity said, a rare softness to his voice and in his eyes. He took a step forward, but then stopped himself. “I never died, I only impersonated my father.”

Y/N stared at him, angry tears coming to her eyes once more. “How?” She forced out, thinking that maybe she was dreaming. “Why?”

Loki looked around, slightly dumbfounded, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to question him. “I wanted the throne,” he answered, as if it were obvious and a perfectly acceptable reason.

Y/N stared at him as if he had grown two heads. To her, he might as well have.

“Oh, really? So you take over your father, trick everyone - me, your brother - into believing that you’re dead, you banish Sif . . . All because you wanted the goddamn throne?” She cried.

The cluelessness left his eyes and replaced itself with guilt, regret pooling inside him. He looked down, shoulders falling with a sigh.

“I’ve felt guilty tricking you ever since it had all went down. I wanted to tell you but, honestly, a part of me didn’t think you’d be that upset over my death. But you were really, so upset and I . . . I was lost. I didn’t know what to do. All I wanted to do was hug you and tell you that it was fine, that I was here, but I thought I’d screw up your emotions and hurt you even more,” he admitted.

Y/N just looked at him, her frown growing deeper. “That’s an awful excuse,” she hissed out, words laced with venom.

Loki immediately snapped his head up to look at her and his gaze held desperateness. “It’s not an excuse,” he said quickly. “It shouldn’t be. I’m . . . I’m so sorry. The last thing I ever wanted to was to trick you, and . . . I did. But today was the final straw. I couldn’t continue like that.”

Y/N took a step forward, having an inner battle in herself on whether or not to forgive him. “You lied to me,” she reiterated bluntly.

Loki nodded guiltily. “I did,” he agreed in a small voice.

She took a pause, taking in a deep breath. “You told me you loved me,” she added.

There was a brief moment of silence before Loki said, in the same small way but a little more firm now, “I do.”

Y/N kept walking, not even fully sure or convinced of what she was doing, but knowing that she needed to do it, until she was standing just inches away from him. They looked at each other for a couple moments, neither saying anything, until Y/N wrapped her arms around Loki. He returned the embrace.

“Never do that to me again!” She yelled through the tears that were now coming. God, was she tired of crying. Especially today.

Loki hugged her tighter, his own tears falling. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, and repeated that over, and over, and over again. “I’m an idiot.”

Y/N leaned back and cupped his face with her hands. The love she had for him overwhelmed her pain, and more than anything she needed him now. Besides, she could see his guilt. She could see the truth shining in his eyes. He wouldn’t do anything like this again, because he loved her. And she loved him.

“At least you’re self-aware,” she whispered through a sniff, taking a page out of his book with her joking remark. Before he could quip back (and she was sure he’d have an excellent one), she leaned forward and captured his lips in his a kiss. Loki smiled against her lips and wrapped his arms around her waist.

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[peterspideyy]

interruptions

written before newt came out <3

summary- newt tries to tell you how he truely feels about you, but keeps on getting stopped

warnings- fluff, maybe some angst, and newt being pissed off with everyone (apart from you hehe)

————

“i can’t believe i’m agreeing to letting you do this, minho.” newt groaned, as said boy had his hand wrapped around the second in command’s arm, dragging him across the glade.

“well, newt, i’m actually shucking helping you if you couldn’t believe it.” he replied.

“yes. i can’t believe that you out of all people want to help me.” newt snapped back.

“i’m actually doing this for your own benefit,” minho shrugged, “as well as mine, i can’t bare to listen to you chat about how much you love y/n all day. it’s starting to drive me insane.”

newt abruptly stopped, causing minho to fly back at the sudden action. “how do you think i’ll be able to do this? i can’t bloody talk to her without going red or stuttering like a complete idiot!”

minho smirked, “well, a- you go up to her, b- say how you feel, c- ask her out, d- and then you’re with the love of your life and you can spend the rest of your day’s togther, saying bloody”

“all british people don’t say bloody all the time, you know?” newt questioned.

“well, you do.”

newt sighed, rolling his eyes.

“stop being a shank, and go up to her.” minho gestured, looking behind him.

newt followed minho’s gaze, before it landed on you, who was laughing with gally and chuck. a slight smile creeped up on his face at the sight. he was completely and utterly in love with you. he doesn’t know exactly when he fell in love with you. it might have been when you first came up in the box. you were so scared, yet adorable, and the british boy instantly found a soft spot for you. it might have been at a bonfire, were the golden light casted a slight glow on your face, causing newt to choke on his drink. or it might have been that night, when you talked for hours about anything and everything. he doesn’t know when, but he can feel that he is in love with his best friend.

“i-i can’t, minho.” newt whined, looking at the runner who was smirking again.

“it’s so funny watching you be in love, newt.”

newt groaned, placing his head in his hands, “you’re not helping.”

“well, if you shucking ask her out already, she’ll say yes and you’ll live a happy life drinking...tea.”

newt rolled his eyes for the second time. “stop. anyway, what if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

minho titled his head to the side, “that could happen...but listen, you can tell she’s in love with you too.”

“how?”

minho froze. “you’re kidding me, right?”

the second in command looked at minho cautiously who shook his head in disbelief. he couldn’t believe newt has never noticed how you look at him for longer than a friend does or how you can’t function properly around him. you’re both completely oblivious to each other’s actions. and it’s driving minho insane.

“right, let’s get this over with. today could be the best day of your life.” minho smiled, putting his hands on newt’s shoulders before leading him towards you.

“or the worst.”

“think positively.”

newt couldn’t. millions of thoughts were circling his brain, as he got closer towards you. he could hear your laugh more clearly now, and he wanted to get out of minho’s grasp and run away. but, he breathed out heavily, trying to gain some confidence as he and the runner stopped infront of you.

“hey newt! minho!” you spoke.

newt stood still, eyes wide making minho roll his eyes. “hey y/n!”

you glanced at newt, furrowing your brows at how weird he was looking at you, making you immediately feel nervous. but, unbeknownst to you, newt was having a mental breakdown- on the inside.

“everything okay?” you questioned, glancing at minho who was starring at newt.

“newt here,” minho started, pushing said boy forward slightly, “has something he would love to tell you.”

you glanced at the second in command, who was looking down at his feet now, not daring to make eye contact.

“okayy.”

minho slapped newt on the back of the head, making him wince as he sent daggers to the runner, before looking at you. “can i-i speak to you please? in private?”

you smiled slightly. “sure.”

and so you and newt walked away from minho, gally and chuck who were sending newt thumbs up making him roll his eyes. newt was literally shaking- he has never dealt with this amount of stress and worry before. he didn’t want this to effect the close friendship you had- it meant so much to him, and he wouldn’t know what to do if he ruined that.

you stopped by the gardens away from people, as you turned around to face the blonde haired boy. “what’s up newt? you’re worrying me.”

he laughed, “tell me about it.”

“what does that mean?” you inquired, titling your head to the side. “you can tell me anything you know, i’m your best friend.”

“well, shit.” newt thought, gulping loudly.

“erm, okay, i don’t know how to word this so i’m just going to say so i’m sorry about that i’m not very good with putting words together sorry-“

“newt.” you spoke, cutting off his rambling.

“right, sorry.”

you giggled. “if you say sorry one more time i’m going to hurl something at you.”

he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, “right sorry- er i mean okay.”

“tell me what’s going on with you.” you encouraged.

“y/n i-“

“newt!” alby shouted from across the glade cutting him off, making him sigh.

“perfect timing, huh?” newt mumbled, making you chuckle.

“newt! where the shucking hell are you?!” alby continued shouting, causing newt to smile sadly at you.

“i better go and see what’s bloody happening. i’ll tell you later.” he said, before turning around and running towards the leaders frustrated calls.

————

after newt sorted out alby’s problems with gladers not following orders, he went to find you, to finally tell you what he’s been wanting to tell you for a while. he saw minho running towards him, a wide smile on his face.

“have you done it yet?” minho asked.

“no.”

“what? why?!”

“blame alby!” newt huffed, as he carried on looking for you.

“have you seen y/n anywhere?” he asked, not once looking at minho.

“oh yeah, she’s in the med hut.”

newt froze, turning around slowly and dreading the worse. “what?”

“stop panicking, she’s fine. chuck cut his hand so she’s sorting him out.”

newt physically relaxed, a blush creeping on his cheek at the thought of you being so helpful to the gladers. they didn’t deserve you. he didn’t deserve you.

“right, thanks.” newt replied, before running towards where you were. he walked in, seeing you give chuck a reassuring smile who was clutching onto his hand, which had a bandage wrapped around. tears stained chuck’s face, making newt’s heart pang. sure it was only a little cut, but he was a kid. and a kid should not be in the glade. chuck mumbled a thanks, before walking out leaving you and newt alone.

“bless him.” you spoke, tidying up the work space.

“yeah.” newt whispered.

you breathed out, turning to look at the british boy. “are you going to tell me what’s happening then?”

“er, i don’t- i mean yes. yes i am.” he stuttered, walking towards you, and placing his hands in yours looking in your eyes deeply. he searched for any disgust or worry in your orbs, but only found confusion and a hint of something else but he couldn’t put a finger on it. he sighed, mentally encouraging himself to actually say he likes you.

“y/n, i’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while now, and i think i’m in lo-“

“newt!”

“you’ve got to be kidding me.” newt thought closing his eyes, as he mentally attacked whoever is calling him.

“newt! where are you?”

he sighed, as he realised the shouting belonged to gally. soon, the builder walked into the med hut, looking very angry. nothing new there.

“what do you want?” newt asked, wincing at how rude he sounded.

gally looked between the two of you, before glaring at the british boy. “you...” he spoke sternly, pointing at him, “need to go out there and sort it out.”

newt breathed out heavily, taking his hands away from yours before rubbing the back of his neck. “sort what out?”

“the animals.”

you laughed, as newt scoffed. “you seriously inturrupted me for animals?”

“yes! come on!” and before newt could say no, gally left causing the blonde boy to sigh heavily for the millionth time. he turned to look at you, smiling at you slightly.

“seems like everyone wants you today,” you mumbled. “tell me later, ‘kay?”

newt nodded, but never moved as he debated to just blurt out ‘i love you,’ before he went to see what was happening. but, he decided to go against that idea, smiling slightly as he ran out of the hut to gally and the others.

————

“have you done it?” minho asked newt, eagerly waiting for him to say yes and give him details. but, he didn’t expect newt to shake his head, as he sighed closing one of the animal pens.

“what? why?” minho shouted alerting the whole glade, making newt snap his head towards him.

“minho i swear to god shut it-“

“oh fine. sorry.” he laughed, but stopped. “why haven’t you shucking told her?”

“do you not think i’ve tried too?! i keep on getting bloody inturrupted. first alby and now gally. if one more person cuts me off, at the wrong time, i’m going to bloody throw them in the pit!” newt barked, but only so minho could hear.

“oh.”

newt scoffed. “yeah, oh.”

minutes passed before minho spoke again. “i have an idea.”

“this is going to be great.” newt replied, sarcasm evident in his voice.

minho only smirked, before pointing at you, alone, in the kitchen. “go to her now, and i’ll distract the others.”

“how are you supposed to control fifty boys in a couple of minutes, when it’s took me three years to do so?” newt questioned, one hand on his hip.

“trust me. i have my ways.”

newt glared at him. “don’t you dare, threaten them.”

“i won’t, newton.” minho laughed, as newt cringed at the nickname.

“go go go!” minho urged, pushing the boy more towards to kitchen making him sigh, as he walked to the kitchen.

“right, listen hear you shanks!” minho shouted, as newt walked away, making him roll his eyes, before he entered the kitchen. you looked up from cutting vegetables, smiling slightly.

“why is minho shouting at everyone?”

“er, no idea.” newt lied.

“okay,” you placed the knife down carefully, “what do you want to tell me?”

newt’s nerves suddenly came back, nearly making him sick. “erm...”

“it’s okay newt, you can tell me anything.” you spoke softly, placing your hands on his, hoping to calm him down but it did the exact opposite.

“okay...y/n, your my bestfriend. i wouldn’t be who i am today without you helping me through...everything. and i-i don’t know when but, i’ve started to feel something. what i’m basically saying is, that i am in lov-“

“hey, newt?” thomas questioned cutting newt off, as he walked into the kitchen, clearly oblivious to the conversation happening.

“what?!” newt shouted, making thomas jump and look at him.

“oh sorry did i inturrupt something?” he asked looking between you both, guilt flooding him, making newt’s angry expression soften.

“yeah, it’s fine though. what’s up?”

“i was just saying that minho and gally are fighting.”

you giggled, as newts eyes went wide. “what?”

“minho started to teach everyone how to protect themselves, and now they’re fighting.” he said simply, pointing outside. you and newt followed his finger, to see he was right.

in the middle of the glade, minho and gally were wrestling while everyone was cheering loudly. even alby was laughing- slightly.

“you’re shucking kidding me.” newt mumbled, leaving the kitchen insantly to stop whatever was happening.

————

“did you do it?”

newt glared at minho, who was now in the med hut, with bruises all over his body, after his ‘training’ with gally.

“no. thanks to you being a complete and utter shank.”

minho only laughed slightly, angering newt more. if that was possible.

“it’s not funny minho. all day i’ve been bloody trying to tell y/n how i feel, but i can’t with fifty slintheads inturrupting me.”

minho looked at his friend, starting to feel slightly guilty. “sorry.”

newt sighed. “it’s okay, i-i just...it’s so annoying you know? the one time i finally have the guts to tell her that i love her, and the world won’t let me.”

“do it tonight?” minho asked, gesturing to the bonfire starting to be lit by a few boys.

newt nodded slightly, “i could do. unless one of you shanks cut me off.”

“i promise that by tonight you and y/n will be together.” minho cringed, as newt blushed at the idea of finally being with you.

————

the fire in the middle of the glade, was lit, as it soared into the night sky, warming up everything around it. everyone had a glass of gally’s drink, securely in their hands, as they all laughed and talked.

you were stood next to thomas, laughing at something he said while newt was across the glade, watching and building up his confidence. the liquid from gally’s drink, nearly split over at how much he was shaking from nerves. he didn’t want to mess this up.

“newt! have you done it yet?” alby slurred, patting him on the back, as he pointed to your figure. newt only shook his head, scared that his voice will show how scared he was.

“go overrr to her!” he shouted.

newt handed alby his drink, causing the leader to laugh as he gulped the rest of it before walking away to get more alcohol. newt rolled his eyes, as he made his way over to you. his heart was panging so loudly, anyone could hear it. he barely had time to tell himself what he was going to say, before he found himself stood infront of you.

“oh hi newt.” you smiled, causing him to grin back.

“h-hi, can i speak to you please?”

thomas’ eyes went wide, as he realised what was about to happen, “oh my god, your doing it!”

if looks could kill, thomas would be dead right now.

“do what?” you inquired, looking between the pair.

yeah- newt was going to kill thomas.

“n-nothing, come on, let’s go.” newt spoke, before ushering you away, as thomas whispered ‘good luck’ down his ear.

once you and newt were away from everyone, you turned around to face him. “are you finally going to tell me what you’ve been wanting to tell me all day?”

“hopefully.”

you smiled, nodding slightly, as you waited for newt to say what has been on his mind. newt breathed in, mentally figuring out what he was going to say. he’s been panicking of actually trying to talk to you, he hasn’t even thought of how to word his feelings.

“iloveyoumorethanafriend.” newt spoke quickly, surpising himself at the sudden outburst.

“what?” you questioned, laughing slightly. you didn’t understand a word he just said.

“okay er, i love yo-“

“newt! your doing it! yes!” chuck shouted cutting him off. you glanced at chuck, furrowing your brows at what he meant causing the british boy’s anger to return.

“i swear to god, if a kid releases my feelings to her before i do.” newt thought, as chuck started dancing happily around the pair.

but, before chuck could even open his mouth, newt placed his hands on your cheeks turning your head to face him, before smashing his lips to yours, making your eyes go wide, but soon relaxing and returning the gesture. chuck’s chanting stopped, as he watched the pair infront of him; he gagged slightly before running away leaving you and the second in command to melt into each other. your hands wrapped around newt’s neck, as you played with the hairs on the back of his neck, while his hands moved from your cheeks to your waist pulling you closer- if that was possible. you pulled away after a couple of seconds, leaning your forehead against his as you both tried to catch your breaths, with your eyes closed.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” newt spoke first, laughing slightly.

“i’m glad you’ve done it.” you laughed with him, as you opened his eyes, a faint blush creeping on your cheeks as newt was already looking at you. he brought one of his hands to your cheek, softly placing a peice of hair behind your ear.

“i love you, y/n. so much.” he smiled. your heart melted at the sight of him. he looked so happy- with all the stress of the maze being washed away from him insantly.

“i love you too. so much.”

newt beamed wider this time, glad you feel the same way, before he leaned down again ready to plant his lips on your again, but was cut off by minho patting him on the back.

“knew you had it in you, newton.” minho smirked, winking at you both, causing newt to see red again.

“if one more person inturrupts me today, your going into the pit for a year.” newt warned, glaring at minho, making you giggle. minho held up his hands, before turning around and walking away.

newt rolled his eyes, before turning to face you, all the anger evident in his eyes being washed away insantly. “right, where were we?”

“i think you were about to do this.”

and as you leaned in, placing your lips on his softly, you both drained all the cheers and claps from the gladers away, with only each other as the only thing in the world you truely cared about.

————

a/n- i can just imagine newt getting so pissed off with everyone ahah! hope you enjoyed :)

————

newt taglist-

@parkersbliss @liberty-barnes @sweetiesangster @marilovescevans @the-salty-asian @24kbucky

[mewhiphand]

Drake analysis for his birthday!

Long post, part 1 of 2! Feel free to share your thoughts!

Drake analysis;

*WARNING : MAJOR spoilers for the Gone series and Monster series, discussions of child abuse, misogynistic mindsets, victim blaming, discussion of torture, sexual assault and rape*

This is a general analysis of Drake's character, focusing mostly on scenes from GONE and HUNGER (where he, arguably, has the most autonomy). If there any specific scenes or books you'd like me to take a look at, please let me know! :)

1| Pre-Coates Drake (overview)

Drake was already showing worrying signs, even before the FAYZ (and before he got sent to Coates); it's mentioned that he found enjoyment in microwaving a puppy and burning frogs. Either this was done covertly until the Holden incident, was done at Coates, or was ignored by his family (likely the former).

This tells us a couple of things:

A. His family may neglect or ignore him (or he ignores them)

Torturing these animals, a strange hobby as it is, does require time and commitment. This distance from his parents during his formative years could create antisocial tendencies and isolation from his 'loved ones'.

B. His sadistic tendencies developed before the death of his father and his mother's remarriage (more on that later).

However, Drake didn't start hurting people until he shot the "neighbour's kid, Holden" who "liked to come over and annoy him".

This short description gives us an insight into Drake's short leash on himself: his temper and impulses are hard to control, and he's aggravated to the point of almost committing murder at a young age (he was 14 in Gone, so this could have been at any age before then) - the book tells us that despite only being shot in the leg by Drake with a .22, "even then, he'd nearly died".

This was the incident that got Drake sent to Coates (a boarding school for mostly "rich", messed-up kids) - this could also clue us into how Drake didn't appear to be legally punished for shooting Holden, as his family might have been well-off (implying they'd rather just buy the victim's silence and ship Drake away rather than deal with his issues on their own, or get a private therapist - or perhaps they believe it's out of their hands?).

However, this is based on assumptions and not solid ground.

2 | Drake and his father.

Drake was taught to shoot by his father, a Highway Patrol lieutenant, using his service pistol. This formed an integral part of who he became, and they now had something in common -

"Don't shoot a person," his father had said. But then he relented, relieved no doubt to find something he could share with his disturbing son."

Despite his father being wary of Drake's early sadistic tendencies, he seemed to be the person that Drake was closest to, and his death affected him majorly. As perhaps the only person who even slightly understood him or sought to find something to do with him, his father's death appeared to be a pivotal moment for Drake - it signalled the end of any sense of a positive male role model in Drake's life, as his mother's next husband was abusive. This would cause him to seek out "strong", violent, dominant men when he was older.

The most likely timeline in my opinion is :

•Drake develops sadistic tendencies

•Drake's father dies

•Drake's mother remarries

•Drake shoots Holden and is sent to Coates

3 | Drake and his stepfather and mother

There is subtextual information that Drake is abused by his stepfather: "the beatings he'd suffered, and the much more numerous beating he had delivered, the pleasure he had found in burning frogs and microwaving a puppy and drawing all those endless loving pictures of weapons, spears, knives, torture devices, all of it, all the hatreds, all the burning lust, all the madness and rage.."

"But he was always a troubled boy. Especially after my son died. The stepfather...young Drake’s stepfather..." - Drake Merwin Sr to Connie temple

To digress :

This small passage in Plague and Sr's speech in Light gives us leagues of information.

Drake is drawn to things that cause pain, he's sickly fascinated with all kinds of weapons, "torture devices" (cleverly hinted at in Hunger, when he's watching Saw II), and the true depth of his emotions are revealed - along with a great deal of self-awareness.

Drake doesn't lack emotion - he's incredibly emotional. The things he does feel (rage, lust, joy) seem to be felt deeper, as if his lack of empathy amplifies the rest of his spectrum of emotions. Drake is also aware of what he feels - the "burning lust" mentioned is especially important to understanding Drake - the misogynistic hatred of Astrid and Diana stems from his apparent inability to distinguish between sexual attraction and causing pain (again, his sadistic desires)

The two are one, in Drake's mind.

[More on that later*]

But where did the misogynist mindset come from in the first place?

The answer lies in Drake's home life following the death of his father.

Drake's mother remarried - but his stepfather was an abusive man, leading to an incredibly toxic relationship. Drake, in his youth, already having the urge to hurt and kill, was exposed to that kind of extreme violence. Drake's stepfather beat his mother in front of him, and because his mother seemingly took actions to antagonise him enough to beat her, Drake (with the mindset of a child, who may have already seen it as a betrayal by his mother to remarry after his father's death)

concluded that she did it deliberately because she liked it.

This misconstruction and victim-blaming set in place a cycle of violence that would form Drake's victim-perpetrator mindset. [*]

It could also imply that Drake's mother's actions of irritating his stepfather directly impacted Drake himself: his stepfather took out his anger on his stepson, and beat Drake too.

This could stand to reason as another explanation why Drake's hatred of women developed - lacking positive female role models and maternal figures in his life led to distance from women, and led him to think that all women were intrinsically weak, irritating and masochistic in their desires.

(This would establish a sadistic-masochistic dynamic that Drake believed all woman [for some, like Astrid, secretly] wanted / partook in, and fuel the idea that women were weak and cowardly as his mother failed to protect him from her husband's violence.)

With a stunted, childish psyche, Drake lost sight of the real issue - the fact that his stepfather was abusive - and directed his anger at someone "safe" and "easy" to hate- his mother, whom he victim-blamed.

We can infer that Drake's childhood was filled with uncertainty and violence, and therefore he sought out control as a way to find a sense of stability in his life, and linked violence with strength and power - therefore, he won't recognise any authority that doesn't use violence as the main way to achieve its aims (hence why he's so gleeful when Caine "is lowered to his level" by using violence, and Drake himself only exercises power through shows of violence and using fear as a means of control - he has no sense of loyalty)

The build-up of resentment at his mother would explode, but not at its original target - at Drake's two known objects of sexual attraction in the FAYZ, Astrid and Diana [who will be addressed separately, as their treatments differ in some aspects. In this post I believe I'll only be addressing Diana, but if you want the full Astrid post comment I guess!]

4| Drake and Diana

A.

Drake fears humiliation - mainly, from the female population. In Gone, Drake comments on this :

"He felt a moment of panic then...He would look like a fool if he didn't get [Astrid]."

"Drake cursed and, again, for just a moment, felt the almost desperate fear of failing Caine. He wasn't worried what Caine would do to him - after all, Caine needed him- but he knew if he failed to carry out Caine's orders, Diana would laugh."

What Drake hates about Diana here is her ability to make him feel humiliated, weak, powerless, a failure - everything he's bound to have felt in his childhood when he couldn't protect his mother or himself against his stepfather. He craves the feeling of power over others, and loathes the feeling of helplessness. We can see that he's aware that Caine uses him and needs him to act as a threat, and he accepts this for now, with the ultimate goal of overthrowing him, but his real fear is being publicly seen as weak and being laughed at, which drives him to do anything to succeed in Caine's eyes and, in his own words, "wipe the smirk off Diana's face"

B.

"Drake had made time to check out Diana's psych file the day after the FAYZ came. But her file had been missing by then. In its place she had left Drake's file lying open on the doc's desk and drawn a little smiley face beside the word "sadist".

Drake had already hated her. But after that, hating Diana had become a full-time occupation."

Diana humiliates Drake, and gains power over him by knowing information about his mental state. Drake, who had the same idea to gain power over Diana, is infuriated and his hatred of her, once a burning ember, is now a raging volcano. We can see that Drake doesn't fear that Diana will hurt him psychically, but emotionally by provoking and humiliating him.

C.

"To Drake's disgust, Caine accepted Diana's back-talk."

Diana has power over Caine that Drake can't hope to accomplish, due to the fact that Caine is attracted to her. Caine's desire of Diana outweighs any loyalty or comradeship he has with Drake. Diana also uses Caine's want for her as a failsafe protection against Drake.

Drake's misogyny shines through here: he sees the fact that Diana is manipulating Caine, and sees how he tolerates it. Drake realises that Diana can get away with much more than Drake himself can - she has more power over Caine than Drake does. And this power, in Drake's eyes, isn't "earned" as it wasn't gained through violence.

Drake disregards any kind of power that isn't earned through pain - this also shows in his hatred of freaks, who he sees as not having "earned" the right to be powerful, and explains his glee at, yes,suffering the pain of his arm being burnt off, but it being replaced by something that enables him to cause pain to others - like a reward for enduring the pain. Drake wants his suffering to mean something, and to gain something from it. Drake wants to be important.

"Go ahead, raise a hand against me, Drake," Diana taunted. "Caine would kill you."

We see another example where Diana uses the threat of Caine to keep Drake in line.

Diana is described as attractive throughout the books by varying characters, and so we infer that Drake finds her attractive, but in his twisted, misognyistic mindset, this is translated to violence. Additionally, he already disliked her so his hatred for Diana is stronger than for any other girl in the FAYZ (even Astrid).

5| Drake and Caine

The foreshadowing of Drake's betrayal

We've established that Drake lacks any sense of loyalty and trust due to a lack of these in his own childhood. Drake also only sees respect as being earned by shows of violence and dominance.

Drake, lacking positive male role models, appears to latch on to Caine, the "most ruthless" of all the boys at Coates, and the most powerful (in a literal sense, with his telekinesis). Caine is mentioned to do small favours for Drake (but, crucially, plays Drake and Diana off against each other [*]), and seemingly gains Drake's initial respect.

Drake, however, seeks to usurp Caine (due to his hatred of freaks, and needing to have a sense of superiority. He also sees Caine as weak and below him for bowing to Diana's demands due to Caine being attracted to her.)

When the Coates trio is first introduced together, in Gone, - "Drake Merwin stood smirking, arms across his chest, on Caine's left, and Diana Ladris watched the crowd from Caine's right"

I'm perhaps guilty of looking too much into this initial description, but I find it interesting - despite being Caine's "right-hand man" and even Drake taunts Diana that he and Caine are "like brothers" (Hunger), Drake stands on his left and Diana on his right.

While this also serves to cement (haha) Caine's role as the 'Fearless Leader', it could also foreshadow Drake's betrayal later in Hunger, and his need to "run the show".

Drake, the Judas figure to Caine's christ [maybe a post on this at some point?*], stands on his left. It also marks Diana as the loyal follower, the one to stay with Caine until the end.

The decimation of Drake and Caine's relations ship culminates in the final events of HUNGER, when Drake almost kills Diana and Caine throws Drake down the mineshaft in revenge and anger.

This marks a shift to Drake's character - he's no longer under Caine's control - but emphasises that his loyalty is now fully to the Gaiaphage, whom he worships for giving him power over others [!!] (the whip hand, which grants him the ability to hurt and kill others, and in LIES, immorality)

We can see that what Drake actually craves is, in GONE: to run things himself, a personal anarchist dream where he can hurt anyone he wants, (and yet he needs a strong male figure behind the scenes to give him motivation), or the illusion of control, found in causing others pain, as he lacks the mental stability and leadership needed to be in control, and he lacks long-term goals beyond revenge and fulfilling his sadistic desires, and is rudderless without a leader (as seen in Monster, where he is "mindlessly killing, torturing and raping anyone he comes across" until he is sought out by Tom Peaks, who gives him motivation)

This is supported by Peaks' comment on this in VILLAIN -

"But along with the sneers, he sensed that Drake was looking for leadership. Drake had no plan, never would have any plan, beyond his next murder."

Drake and his hatred of freaks, and how this impacts his relationship with Caine -

"Drake hated the power. There was only one reason why Caine and not Drake was running the show: Caine's powers."

"But Caine understood that the kids with powers had to be controlled. And once Caine and Diana had all the freaks under control, what was to stop Drake from using his own nine millimetres of magic to take it all for himself?"

Drake always planned to usurp Caine, as he thinks he's too influenced by Diana and due to his hatred of freaks. Drake hates anyone having power over him, and Caine's abilities give him a unique advantage, which Drake loathes.

Caine and Drake - altercations before the betrayal and what they show

"She was your mother and she gave you up and kept Sam?" Drake said, laughing in his enjoyment of Caine's humiliation.

Drake's sadism shines through and he turns entirely reckless in tormenting Caine, his desire to see Caine humiliated outweighing any fear he has of him. For Drake, fulfilling these sadistic urges take precedence over everything - even fear, pain, rage. We can see that he seems to not know when to stop, or chooses to push people past their limits anyways.

Caine responds in physical violence, the language Drake seems to understand - "Something slammed Drake's chest. It was like being hit by a truck. He was lifted off his feet and thrown against the wall."

Drake refuses to be humiliated (in front of Diana, curiously) - "He made himself shake it off. He wanted to jump up and go for Caine, finish him quick before the freak could hit him again. But Caine was there, looming over him, face red, teeth bared, looking like a mad dog."

"Remember who's the boss, Drake," Caine said, his voice low, guttural, like it was coming from an animal."

"Drake nodded, beaten. For now."

This small passage gives us a lot of messages about Drake. He wants to appear strong and vicious, but plays it smart and backs down to avoid the risk of Caine actually killing him. Drake and Caine's dynamic is, crucially, a power struggle at its heart.

However, Drake doesn't give up - he's admirably resilient and persistent in chasing his goals of revenge, and "winning" the power struggle against Caine. He does, at least in GONE, possess a good amount of intelligence and foresight.

Caine (and Diana) being aware of Drake's psychopathy

Caine :

"Drake is a violent, disturbed boy." - Caine to Sam, the gym scene in GONE.

Caine knows of Drake's afflictions, but keeps him around as a lackey to do his dirty work. He also considers himself morally superior to Drake - he remarks that at least he doesn't "get off" on what he does.

Hypocritically, Caine does not see his own actions as being just as damaging, but this is due to his overinflated ego and delusions of grandeur - he believes the ends he wants justifies the means he uses.

Diana :

"Drake is sick in the head. I'm not saying that just to scare you, I'm saying it because it's true...Drake is flat out sick in the head. He could kill her, Sam" - Diana to Sam, the gym scene in GONE.

"Well, that's why we keep Drake around. He enjoys hurting people." - Diana to Astrid, classroom scene in GONE.

Diana shares a similar opinion to Caine - he's mentally unhinged, but Diana recognises the threat he poses to both her and to Caine, and wants him gone.

6| Drake and dominance & submission

A.

"Drake moved past Diana and kicked Sam onto his back, legs twisted beneath him. Drake stood over him and pushed the end of his hat against Sam's Adam's apple. The same move he had used on Orc the night before."

We see that Drake is physically strong, despite his unassuming stature - he's described as "lean". He has been in enough fights and has enough experience to take down people at least "fifty pounds" heavier than him (Orc). He also puts these people into humiliating, submissive positions where they have no choice but to capitulate to his demands.

B.

He speaks to Astrid in LIGHT about this -

"Are you as clueless as the rest of them, Astrid? It’s simple. Here it is, here’s the answer, Astrid the Genius: it’s fun to hurt people. It’s such…it’s such joy, Astrid. Such joy realizing that all the power is yours, and all the fear and pain is right there, in your victim. Come on, smart girl, you know what it’s called. You know the word for it. Come on, say it.’ He cupped his hand to his ear, waiting for the word.

'Evil,’ Astrid said.

Drake laughed, threw up his hand wide, and nodded his head. 'Evil! There you go. Good for you. Evil. It’s in all of us. You know that, too. It was in you. I saw it in your eyes as you looked down on me in that cooler. Evil, hah. We all want to have someone powerless beneath us while we stand over them.’ His voice had grown husky. 'We all want that. We all want that.’

One thing that stands out about Drake's character is that he likes to believe that everyone, at some level, has the same desires he does: Drake is just "strong" enough to act on them.

Drake likes to antagonise people to 'bring them down to his level'.

In this speech, Drake reveals a lot about himself.

"it's fun to hurt people" ,in particular, keys us in to the fact that Drake is self-aware, and making Astrid call him "evil" is part of this: Drake knows what he's doing is morally wrong. Drake wants people to think that he is evil, that he's ruthless, that he's nothing but a sadistic murderer, because he doesn't want to reveal his true vulnerability and helplessness.

He calls out the hypocrisy of Astrid for seemingly reveling in his pain and still condemning him for the desires over which he has no control. [This is not to say that I believe he is right for acting on them; the urges he can't control, but he can control his actions]. This is Drake's make me your villain speech. His final cry for help, in a way.

He wants everyone to be like him. He wants to not be judged, he aches for the confirmation that he is not alone in wanting power and vengeance and pain.

"We all want to have someone powerless beneath us while we stand over them." - Drake's experience of the roles being reversed, and the victim-perpetrator cycle show through here. Drake seeks power because he was denied it.

It is paradoxical in that, arguably, he wouldn't be like this if people hadn't punished him for things he couldn't control (involuntary sadistic impulses), and it is sad that we realise he could have been so much more, had circumstances been different.

Drake is a dark mirror of every dark thought we ever have. He, horrifyingly so, reflects the human urge to inflict pain as revenge. Drake's story is a cautionary tale. Many can relate to his harsh childhood, and Drake reminds us that no matter how much pain is inflicted on us, we bear the weight of not continuing that cycle onto others. That is the curse of being good. That is the curse of being human. That is the curse of empathy.

C.

Crucifixion - in MONSTER, it is revealed that Drake has been 'alive' for years, and we find out in VILLAIN that he resides in a cave in the desert along with 3 bodies - 2 female, one male, people he recently tortured. He crucified them with "railroad spikes" and left them to hang from the bones of their wrists. We can see that Drake leaves them in humiliating positions deliberately - "The only thing better would be to have Sam nailed to the opposite wall, forced to watch it all. To see Astrid degraded as Sam watched? He could not imagine anything better."

This is an example of his psychosexual development being warped - he associates sex with violence and power. He tortures and degrades his victims as a way to fulfil his sexual and sadistic urges.

7| Drake and Orc as foils

Drake and Orc first oppose each other in the early chapters of GONE - Drake is given power over Orc by Caine - "Drake and his people, including Captain Orc.."

This establishes a hierarchy within the "sherrifs". Drake leads them, but ultimately defers to Caine - (and, he is given power over others at Caine's will.)

Orc, like Drake, had a traumatic childhood and was abused by his father, and his "dumb dishrag" mother does nothing to stop it (she herself is abused by her husband, and rebukes Charles for wanting to kill his father.)

Both Orc and Drake blame their mothers for failing to stop the abuse of their husbands (and their father and step-father in Drake's case).

This is an interesting comparison, as it cements (haha) both Orc and Drake as bullies with short tempers who need to have control, each with a shrewd, conniving friend who effectively "leads" them.

Also, for the most part in the books, they're the only characters with physical mutations (both resulting from physical injury!) and turn their backs on the shrewd friend at some point (Drake and Caine becoming enemies, Orc finding faith and becoming distanced from Howard's crimes).

The fight between them at the start of GONE is a clever foreshadow to their battle at the end of GONE (and, of course, their long-lasting rivalry) and provides a comparison between the two.

They butt heads when Orc is ordered to defer to Drake when Caine is giving out roles, and Caine handles it by crushing a boy with a cross - but no physical altercation happens until Orc punishes Bette for "doing magic tricks".

The anti-freak agenda (ironic, considering they both end up gaining mutations, at similar points too!) of both Drake and Orc is pointed out, but Orc is almost painted as a "lesser evil" - as if Orc may be a garden-variety bully, but Drake is pure, distilled essence of evil.

"Orc...went for Drake like a linebacker. Drake stepped aside, nimble as a matador."

"Drake hit Orc in the ribs with a short, sharp forward thrust of the bat. Then again in the kidneys and again in the side of the head. Each blow was measured, accurate, effective."

Drake is the quick and nimble to Orc's sluggishness, the playfulness to Orc's sullen demeanour. He is "lean" where Orc is "wide" - their battle at the end is described as "their quick-and-slow, nimble-and-heavy, sharp-and-dull battle".

This is a perfectly well written description in my opinion - succinct, and perfectly accurate of them.

The main differences, however, are their personal views on their mutations, and their arcs.

Orc thinks he's a monster - he knows he is physically repulsive, and detests himself. He feels immense guilt over the pain he caused, and seeks to redeem himself through finding faith and asking for forgiveness from God.

Drake, in contrast, adores the power that his mutation gives him. He even describes himself as "Jesus with a whip". His mutation, in Drake's eyes, gives him control over others and he relishes in this.

Drake feels no remorse over the pain he causes, and doesn't desire redemption.

His God-figure is the Gaiaphage, whom he eventually betrays as he desires personal revenge on Astrid and Diana and cannot cope with Gaia being female due to his misogynistic views.

However, Drake and Orc share an interesting scene in Plague with Astrid - Orc seeks out Astrid with the intent to hurt her (it is implied to be sexual violence) and is interrupted by Drake arriving at Coates with his army of bugs. Drake picks up on Orc's intentions.

Drake confesses to Orc that he had the same idea.

"You think she'll give you a big, wet kiss on your gravel face?" He peered closer at Orc as if looking inside him. "Nah, Orc, the only way you get Astrid is the same way I get her. And that's what you were thinking, isn't it?"

[frasier-crane-style]

Watching Snyder League

-Diana literally vaporizes a guy armed with nothing but an assault rifle.

-Also, these have gotta be like the dumbest terrorists. Their plan:

A. Send multiple armed gunmen to take hostages.

B. Stall for time

C. Set off a suitcase bomb on a one minute countdown (why not just set it off immediately? It's In The Script)

You have a suitcase bomb--just park a car somewhere, set the timer, leave it in the trunk, and walk away. You can kill as many people as you want without losing any of your own guys.

-Superman's scream sends out five separate shockwaves. Which makes me think the guy's milking it, personally.

- I'm amused that both SOP for the Amazons is having, like, fifty people standing around guarding the Mother Box. AND that they don't ramp up security after it wakes up.

- And there's this system of burying the Mother Box.  Which 1. seems like the only way to get there in the first place is to teleport in. What good is this system against a teleporter?

2. It takes six guards to suicide themselves by knocking down pillars, which seems like--in five thousand years, you couldn't come up with something where you just pull a level from twenty feet away?

This is the problem with the Amazons. They're all women, so none of them go into STEM fields.

- It's also real weird that this Bruce Wayne doesn't even try to hide that he's Batman. He just walks right up to Aquaman and goes "hey, Bruce Wayne, I'm also Batman." And remember, he's getting the Justice League together entirely based on a hunch. At least in Josstice League, there were Parademons all up in Gotham.

- And should I even bother to ask why Darkseid's people can't just bring three new Mother Boxes to Earth? Are those the only three? If so, you'd think they'd try to get them back sooner. Like, A LOT sooner.

- Okay, this was supposed to come out one year before Infinity War, but still, it was pretty obvious what Marvel was doing with Thanos and the Infinity Gauntlet. They had to know they were inviting comparisons.

-I love the implication, tho, that Darkseid just lost track of the Mother Boxes and just... no one realized they were back on Earth. And they have Parademons that can specifically sniff out the Mother Boxes. 

-And if Superman dying was such a momentous occasion that it woke up a Mother Box, why not the Old Gods dying? Why not Ares dying? Wouldn't that have left Earth just as undefended?

-I have no idea why any of this is happening a couple years after Superman debuted and then died and not in, like, 1446.

-Are the Mother Boxes like finicky computers? Do you need to turn them off and on again? When Superman showed up, did they shut down for real, and then he died, so they came back on for real? Is it like a Windows 95 thing, where you can't JUST turn the computer off, you have to go to the start menu and press Shutdown and then wait for it to close up shop?

-It’s so weird that this is supposed to be a Dark, Mature Adaptation For Adults! And it doesn’t have the same basic logic you’d get from an episode of Power Rangers. 

-So. Much. Daddy issues.

-Please stop letting Ezra Miller improv.

-They cast like the gayest man in America to play the one guy with a love interest.

-Diana: "I lost someone I loved once." Well, twice, but who's counting?

-All those reshoots and they couldn't get Amber Heard to knock off the British accent?

-Why is Desaad, of all people, Darkseid’s dragon? Is it just because they were rifling through all the Fourth World saga to find the few guys with scary names instead of Granny Goodness or Virman Vundabar?

- And they really play up Darkseid appearing to Steppenwolf, but we've not only already seen him in the big flashback, we saw him get his ass kicked by Zeus of all people.

- And the whole thing where Steppenwolf is part of Darkseid's 'family' really isn't helping the Thanos-Nebula-Gamora comparison.

-It's weird to introduce Darkseid as the guy who was already beaten once. Wouldn't it make more sense that Steppenwulf was the guy who lost, and that allowed Darkseid to take over, and now he's trying to redeem himself for his defeat? Or that Darkseid was never defeated at all, but someone stole the Anti-Life Equation from him and hid it on Earth? Something. Instead, it’s literally just randomly burnt into the crust of the Earth, Darkseid discovers it, then forgets all about it for reasons the movie doesn’t get into despite being four damn hours long.

-It’s only the central plot, whatever, forget about it.

- Pretty sure Kal eye-lasered a couple Army guys to death after he was resurrected, not that he ever gives a shit.

-Third big reveal of Darkseid. Come on, you've shown him three times now. We've heard him talk.

-And this does the same thing as Josstice League with Superman being more powerful than the rest of the JLA put together. Here, he even no-sells Steppenwolf's axe. He just lets it hit him and it doesn’t do shit. So Doomsday could kill him, but Steppenwolf can't even scratch him. And yet Wonder Woman seems pretty evenly matched with both, if not outclassed by Steppenwolf.

-Barry Allen spends the whole climax running in a circle. And he fails at it! Dude's really retarded when he doesn't have Team STAR Labs cheering him on.

-He also casually travels back in time to undo his side getting a Game Over, which makes you wonder how any conflict in this universe can ever have any stakes. Say what you will about Endgame, but at least they explain why time travel can’t solve every problem they ever have.

-Hell, the Mother Boxes can bring people back to life. The example used is literally “it can turn smoke back into a house.” Why not bring Joe Morton back to life? He did a good job in T2, c’mon.

-Speaking of, according to TV Tropes, Ray Fisher got to come up with his own backstory for Cyborg (”I don't praise Chris Terrio and Zack Snyder for simply putting me in Justice League. I praise them for EMPOWERING me (a black man with no film credits to his name) with a seat at the creative table and input on the framing of the Stones before there was even a script!”), which makes it kinda hilarious that this movie’s characterization of Cyborg is that he’s a genius sports hero who also loves helping out the underprivileged.

-AND his big conflict with his dad is that Silas Stone was never there for him, as literally represented by there being an empty seat next to his mom at Vic’s big sportsball game. So apparently the black experience is indistinguishable from Austin Powers In Goldmember. Who knew?

-What else? It's weird that the narrative tries to put some importance in Martha Kent, but then in her big scene with Lois, she's really Martian Manhunter (not kidding) and when Superman is resurrected, he hears encouraging words ONLY from Jor-El and Jonathan. All she really contributes to the story is hugging Superman after he comes back.

-Also, Batman spends a lot of time in the climax shooting people with a rifle. They're bug people and it's, like, a Halo rifle, but still. You can tell Snyder's just chomping at the bit to have Batman carry around a Colt Commando.

-They give no shits about secret identities in this, so why do they still bother with putting a shitty distortion effect on Batfleck's voice? He has a pretty good Batman voice outside the suit, but once he puts it on, he starts sounding like he's giving a blowjob to Daft Punk.

-One of the movie’s, like, four cliffhangers is Lex Luthor telling Deathstroke about Batman’s secret identity, because Deathstroke has a private vendetta against Batman and is out to get him. Of all the Bat rogues who are solely motivated by taking out Batman--why choose Deathstroke, the guy that’s just a mercenary for hire, to characterize as simply hating Batman? (They also imply Batman took out Deathstroke’s eye and THAT’S the big feud between him and--guys. C’mon. This was really supposed to be a whole movie of Deathstroke getting revenge for his eye?)

- The movie ends with them making Wayne Manor the JLA headquarters--God, just tell me if secret identities matter or not.

-Did we really need two ‘beyond the impossible’ scenes back to back, one for Cyborg and one for the Flash?

-Oh, it’s not Arkham Asylum, it’s ‘Arkham Home For The Emotionally Troubled.’ Was this supposed to be one of those Arrowverse things where they call it Starling City for a while, only to rebrand it Star City because that’s somehow better than just calling it Star City in the first place?

- "[Snyder] also said that the reason Darkseid lost track of which world the Mother Boxes were left on was because he was gravely injured and their forces sent limping away, and upon returning to Apokolips had to fight a civil war for the throne (possibly the event hinted where Steppenwolf betrayed him), wherein their records were lost." Imagine having a movie four hours long and not explaining the fucking backstory.

[sambergscott]

a peralta guarantee

“I promise I’ll come home safe, Ames. That’s a Peralta Guarantee.”

(missing scenes from 7x08 - amy worrying about jake)

hUge thanks to johanna for inspiring this fic and helping when i had a lil breakdown halfway through

When he approaches her desk mid-afternoon with a decaf coffee and the white chocolate chip cookies she’s been craving from the bakery across town, she knows he’s either a) broken something, b) wants something or c) has bad news. She narrows her eyes suspiciously, detecting an excited bounce in his step which can only mean it’s b and c; he wants something she’s not going to like.

“Hey, babe,” he tries to play it cool, clearing a butt-sized space on her desk on which to sit. “I come bearing gifts.”

“What do you want, Peralta?” She cuts to the chase.

“Damn it, you know me too well,” he mutters. “OK, so, here’s the thing: Doug Judy’s gettin’ married. He invited me to his Bachelor Party this weekend and I know he’s a criminal, Ames, but I really wanna go. Like, so bad. Would you be cool with that?”

She conjures up a mental pro and con list. On one hand, Doug Judy is The Pontiac Bandit, known felon, committer of God knows how many crimes, an overall bad dude. On the other, he’s Jake’s friend, singer of the smush songs CD in the glove box of their car that they always forget to take out, giver of the Le Creuset pot she adores. He’s always been nice to her and—.

“Sarge?” Gary interrupts her decision-making process with a quick question about a perp he just brought in, snapping her back to reality. She’s a Police Sergeant, her job is to serve and protect the city they call home and as much as she loves cooking her mom’s beef casserole recipe in Judy’s awesome wedding gift, she has a responsibility to bring him in.

“I’m sorry, babe. I just think it’s a bad idea.”

His face falls, his disappointment coming through loud and clear.

“What were you expecting me to say? Ignore the million arrest warrants out on this guy, many of them submitted by you, so you can drink beer and go to strip clubs?”

“You’re right,” he sighs. “You’re obviously right. Man, being good at your job sucks.”

She nods in agreement. “Remember last month when I had to shut that binder store down for running a secret drug dealing operation out back?”

“How could I forget? You cried for three days straight.”

“They had the best binder collection I’ve ever seen!”

(It was actually what was so fishy about it. In four trips to buy pregnancy binders, she hadn’t seen any of the founding members of the Brooklyn Binder Babes blog — Mary Sue, Catherine, Margaret or Jane — once. And there’s no way a stationery start-up would attract such long queues without their recommendation. It was a pretty easy solve from there).

“The point is, you can’t go to a criminal’s Bachelor Party.” She pats his hand. “You’ll just have to come maternity clothes shopping with me instead. None of my jeans fit me anymore.”

“As much as I would love to, you can take Kylie. I’m going to the party.”

“What?” She double-takes. “Jake, did you not listen to what I literally just said? We’re cops. We cannot be friends with criminals.”

“But we can be friends with informants who have helped us catch numerous, even bigger, more dangerous criminals,” he says with that look on his face, the one he gets when he finds a loophole that he can use to his advantage. She recognises it from home videos Karen has shown her where, instead of tidying his room like she asked him to, seven year old Jake shoves everything under his bed and carries on enacting a police chase with his race cars. “Captain Holt has given him immunity before, so technically I should be able to go party it up with him in Miami!”

“Wait... It’s in Miami? Miami... Florida?”

It’s a stupid question, she knows. Of course he means Miami, Florida. It’s just... they both promised on the flight home that they would never, ever go back there. After everything that happened with Figgis and not knowing if they’d ever see each other again, a statewide travel ban seemed a good way to put it all behind them, focus on all their future moments together, not on all the moments they missed.

“This isn’t like last time,” he reassures her. “It’s only for a weekend and then I’ll be coming straight home for snuggles with you and —,” he lowers his voice to a whisper because they haven’t told anyone she’s pregnant yet, “the baby.”

Her eyes fill with tears and she bites her lip so hard to stop them overflowing in front of all her uniformed officers. It’s pretty clear that he wants to go and she never wants to be one of them wives who control their husbands’ every move. All she wants is for him to be happy. And if going to Doug Judy’s Bachelor Party makes him happy, he should go, no matter how much she hates the entire state of Florida. She agrees, on one condition: “You have to text me hourly updates to let me know that you’re still alive.”

“Don’t I text you constantly anyway?”

“I guess so,” she sniffs.

He lifts her chin so she’s looking him in the eyes. “I promise I’ll come home safe, Ames. That’s a Peralta guarantee.”

“You better,” she warns, tears suddenly flowing down her face at the thought of him not coming home, not being there to watch Property Brothers with her, not raising their baby and proving to everyone what a great dad he will be.

Used to her extra strength pregnancy hormones shifting her emotions from 0 to 100 faster than John McClane can say “Yippie-Ki-Yay, motherfucker”, he pulls her into a tight hug, careful not to crush the precious cargo that is behind said mood swings.

He strokes her hair and whispers that he’ll be home before she knows it and that nothing, not even the worst state in the country, will tear him away from her.

When it’s time for him to leave, she follows him out to the street and, after a brief argument over the fact he packed his bag before he OK’ed the trip with her and another hormone-induced cry when his cab shows up, reluctantly waves goodbye.

True to his word, he texts her before the car is even out of sight. Miss you already 😘.

--

Her phone buzzes periodically throughout the rest of the day.

In a meeting with Holt and Terry: flying on mark cuban’s dope ass private plane!!!!! ✈️

Cooking dinner: florida is HOT (not as hot as u babe, dont worry)

Doing her crossword in bed: g’night ames, g’night baby, love u both SO MUCH

She smiles, tells him she loves him too and braces herself for the barrage of drunk texts and selfies coming her way.

--

Sleeping without him sucks. The bed is cold, her pregnancy pillow is not as good of a cuddle buddy and she tosses and turns all night worrying about him, where he is, what he’s doing, whether he’s safe.

Her eyes finally slip shut around 1 am when her phone buzzes. Again. And again. And again.

She tries to ignore him, bury her head under her pillow and go back to sleep, but the messages keep coming thick and fast. She groans, giving up and unlocking her phone.

There are 47 new messages from him.

Forty-seven.

Her initial annoyance at being woken up quickly disappears as she scrolls through the thread. He’s mostly sent her random, meaningless emojis and keysmashes, interspersed with the odd “I love you”, “you’re my best friend” and “I’m thinking about you” that warm her heart. He mentions something about their proposal, about crying with Doug Judy, which obviously makes her cry too.

(Dumb pregnancy hormones).

By the time she reaches the bottom, he’s sent her 10 more.

She decides for her sake — and the sake of all of her officers who would have to deal with a tired, emotional pregnant lady — to turn off her phone and reply to him in the morning.

She returns her phone to her nightstand, settles back into a comfortable position and closes her eyes.

She lies motionless for what feels like hours, unable to fall asleep. She tries the breathing technique her brother David brags about constantly, counting sheep like little Matthew, even reciting police codes like Teddy used to go to sleep after sex. Nothing works. She’s still awake.

She turns her phone back on to see what Jake’s up to now, only to see his messages ended abruptly with a caterpillar emoji over an hour ago.  

She immediately panics, dialling 911 into her phone.

Her thumb hovers over the green call button.

She’s heard thousands of crazy operator call stories, frequently reminded the general population to only call in a genuine emergency and watched the YouTube compilations for fun. She deletes the number, positive that if she told an operator her husband was missing because she hadn’t heard from him while he’s at a Bachelor Party, she’s positive she would be added to those videos.

In an attempt to stop her spiral, she contemplates the possible scenarios in which his constant texts would cease.

Scenario 1: He’s living in the moment and has put his phone away (something she has been encouraging him to do lately to reduce his screen time)

Scenario 2: He’s very drunk and has completely forgotten about his promise

Scenario 3: He used up all his battery texting her and his phone has died

Scenario 4: He’s fallen asleep (although a quick check of Trudy Judy’s insta reveals the party is very much still in full flow)

Scenario 5: Judy’s criminal buddies have killed him and thrown his body into the ocean

Once the thought pops into her head, no amount of squeezing her eyes shut will make the image go away.

Holt giving an emotional eulogy about wearing ties and being an amazing detective/genius.  

Some rookie taking over his desk.  

The sympathetic looks when she tells all the other moms in baby group that her husband died.  

Usually Jake is there to hold her when her nightmares get bad. She rolls over, expecting to see his kind eyes and soft smile, the untouched side of his bed only serving to make her cry harder.

She can’t lose him. Not yet. Not until they’re old and grey, and maybe not even then. She spent so long denying her feelings for her dorky partner, rueing every missed opportunity to be together, and when they finally, finally took the plunge, she had never been happier. She can’t lose him yet. They have so much more life left to live.

She can’t lose him because he promised her he would come home safe. He guaranteed it.

She clings onto the tiny grain of hope like one might cling onto a raft in the middle of the ocean.

He would never break a Peralta guarantee.

--

Her phone finally buzzes again an hour later.

From: Unknown

Ames, it’s me, Jake. Judy’s buddies found out I’m a cop + destroyed my phone. So sorry I couldn’t text before. Hope you didn’t worry too much, although I know you probably haven’t slept. You can stop worrying now. I’m safe. Love you + see you tomorrow.  

Love you too, she responds, yawning as she places the phone back on the side table.

Relieved that he’s OK, and exhausted from all the worrying, she falls into the easiest sleep she’s ever had.

--

Before she knows it, it’s the next afternoon, Jake’s keys are turning in the lock, he’s dropping his holdall on the floor and rushing to her side to kiss her all over her face.

“I missed you too,” she laughs, kissing him properly.

“Sorry it took so long — Doug and Trudy made me fly commercial —.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re home now. That’s all that matters.”

“I’m never leaving you two again,” he swears.

“You’ll have to leave us eventually to go to the bathroom and stuff,” she points out, raking her fingers through the unruly curls that she so hopes their baby will inherit. “Just don’t go back there.”

A solemn understanding passes over his face and he nods. “Never again. Not even if our kid wants to go to Disney World. We’ll take them to the California one instead.”

“Smort,” she says, stealing his line and in an instant, that familiar grin is back.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

A dozen memories flood back, of oldies in short shorts and shuffleboard and Doug Judy getting away again. Of noice and smort and saying “I love you” for the very first time. Her eyes fill with tears — dumb pregnancy hormones strike again — as she buries her face in his shoulder.

“Let’s go to bed,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and lifting her bridal style to carry her to their room. He places her carefully onto the mattress and flops down next to her.

She snuggles into him, eyes closing once more. “Did we even get an invite to the wedding?”

“Not even close,” he sighs.

“Damn it. I would’ve loved to see that trainwreck.”

“You and me both, babe. You and me both.”

[wondersofdreaming]

Lost Boys - TWO

Characters: August Walker / Captain Syverson / Walter Marshall

Word count: 2.240

Warnings: Death. Cursing. Family removal. Fight. Family reunion of some sort.

Author’s note: Everything in this story is a figment of my imagination, with inspiration and snippets from the movies ‘Mission: Impossible - Fallout’, ‘Sand Castle’, ‘Nomis/Night Hunter’. This is pure fanfiction. If something doesn’t make sense, it’s not supposed to.

I do now own any of the characters from the movies that I write about in this story. Only the OFC’s are mine.

Tag: @littlefreya​ @katerka88​ @hell1129-blog​ @radaofrivia​ @mis-lil-red @omgkatinka​ @gothwhopper​​

MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated. Seriously, please tell me all the good and bad stuff, else I won’t be able to develop into a better writer, if I don’t know what I’m doing right and wrong. I swear I don’t bite.

[ONE] [THREE] [FOUR] [FIVE] [SIX] [SEVEN] [EIGHT] [NINE] [TEN]

William and Jennifer Thompson had everything they ever wanted. A nice home they couldn’t wait to fill up with children. Their lives were turned upside down when Jennifer became pregnant with triplets. William had nearly fainted at the scan. Triplets conceived naturally were a rare thing.

The couple was ecstatic to meet their children. They both had lost their parents, and with no siblings on either side, they had the need to have a large family. They prepared for the triplets as much as they could. Bought a bigger car, three car seats, three cribs, triple the amount of clothes and diapers.

“I hope you will all be like your mother,” William whispered to the grown belly, while Jennifer was asleep on her side. “She is the gentlest woman I know. She will carry you for as long as she can, even though her body is hurting. She will be your rock, your nurse, your teacher, but most of all she will be the very first woman you love. She will help you play pranks on me. She will cook your favourite foods. She will make birthday cakes the way you want them. She will drive you to practice. She will practice with you, even if you choose three different hobbies. She will help you with your homework, even reading ahead, so she knows what will happen next. She will love you more than anything. Try not to make her cry or angry, trust me you really don’t want that. Being on her bad side is the worst place to be.”

William kissed the skin where a foot was kicking her belly from the inside. He chuckled.

“Be nice son.” He whispered. He felt his wife’s hands caressing his scalp.

“Talking to the boys again?” She asked with a yawn.

“I have to show them who is the boss. If they have just a little bit of my temper, they’ll be quite a handful.”

“They are already a handful. They keep kicking or sitting on my bladder.” Jennifer whimpered. “Help me up please, I need to go to the bathroom.”

William smiled as he pulled his very pregnant wife up from their bed. Their black lab, Shell, jumped up from his bed and walked with her. At 33 weeks pregnant everything hurt. Her feet, her back, just everything. She was so over being pregnant with three boys. Good thing they were being born two weeks later by c-section.

All three boys were born healthy. They were all much bigger than other babies being born at 35 weeks, perhaps because Jennifer had literally eaten for four people since she found out she was expecting three babies at once.

Trevor, James, and Oliver grew up to be robust young boys. At the age of five, they were already known as ‘the three terrors’ in their neighbourhood. Trevor was the adventurous child, he would climb trees, and the moment he started walking, he had walked right over to William’s rock music collection and gotten into his LP’s. James loved solving puzzles rather than playing in the sandbox outside, and he loved watching TV-shows like ‘Columbo’ and ‘Magnum P.I.’. Oliver was the quiet one, he was always up to no good and got his brothers in trouble for something he had done, and he would always fight with James over the remote if an action movie was on.

The boys had a good childhood, until that fateful day where their lives changed forever.

William and Jennifer had been on a date when they were hit by a drunk truck driver. Both parents died on the spot. The boys were divided into three different families, who would take care of them.

Trevor was sent to a family in Georgia, who already had a son a year younger. Trevor would grow up to be a strong-willed man, whose protective instincts always kicked in gear when he saw someone being bullied or hurt.

James moved to Minnesota to a family, who had a son who was three years older. James grew up to be independent. He took no bullshit from anyone, not even his daughter that he would have later in life.

Oliver travelled to Virginia, where the family who later adopted him, had a young daughter. They didn’t love Oliver the way he should have been loved, like how his brother’s new families loved the brothers. Oliver was yelled at often, which hardened his heart. He swore that he would make the world a better place. The only good thing about his upbringing was the young sister, who would be the light of his life. She would make him smile and he would, in turn, protect her. His heart shattered the day she died while he was in college.

The three brothers forgot each other. Forgot they ever were as one unit once. Forgot that they had parents who had loved them more than anything. But each one always had a piece of home with them. A little medallion with an engraving of Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, protector of those who have lost their parents. A social worker had given each of the boys the medallion with their birth names, parents names and birthplace etched on the back so that they would never forget who they were.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Lucas pummelled the stranger to the ground. He looked just like him, except he had hair, curly and long at the top, shorter on the sides and back, and he had a fucking disgusting moustache. Who the fuck had moustaches anymore?

Before Lucas could grab the intruder by the collar, he was kicked in the shin and was hitting the ground, hard. The intruder scrambled to his feet and was out of sight within seconds. Lucas ran after him.

“Captain! What is going on?” A few soldiers asked him as he ran past them.

“Invader. How the hell did he get in?” Lucas barked at the privates. Nobody knew. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw a glimpse of a white shirt, the stranger had worn, disappear into another building. He stealthily moved towards the building, drawing his gun and went in. He was sitting on a chair, a rifle in his hand, a dead soldier at his feet with a broken neck.

“I know you’re there, captain. I think we need to talk,” the stranger said. “Drop your gun, and I’ll let down the rifle. Truce for now.”

Lucas was sceptical, but he went inside and put the gun back into the holster at his hip.

“Who are you?” Lucas asked.

“I have many names, which one do you want to know?” The trespasser smirked.

“The one given at birth will suffice,” Lucas grunted back, which made the smile disappear from the stranger’s face. He went to grab something at his neck. A medallion with a woman engraved on it. Lucas gasped. He had seen everything, gruesome things, death, destruction, nothing was supposed to surprise him anymore. Yet there he was. Looking at a man that could be his twin, and who had a medallion identical to the one Lucas had hidden under his T-shirt.

“My parents named me, Oliver Thompson,” the stranger grunted out. “Your turn.”

“I was named Trevor Thompson,” Lucas equally mumbled and showed his medallion.

“No.”

“What the fuck do you mean ‘no’?”

“We can’t be related. I don’t have a family.”

“Well, sucks to be you. Seems we’re brothers. Now tell me, what are you doing at my base?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Stealing weapons.”

“Why?”

“That, brother, is a secret.”

Lucas acted fast. He kicked the rifle out of the thief’s hands and shoved him off the chair. It earned him a fist on his left cheek, but he had tried worse. Two more punches to his torso, to him it was more like tickling. Lucas blocked a few more attacks before the stranger rammed into his crotch area that made Lucas fall to his knees. The burglar moved towards the door, but Lucas grabbed his legs that made him fall. Lucas dragged him away from the open door. The criminal was looking around for a weapon and grabbed the wooden chair. He swung it at Lucas’ head. He got lightheaded for a moment, almost seeing stars, but gained his senses in time to watch the intruder run for his life. They continued the brawl outside next to a few military vehicles. The stranger got the upper hand as he jumped on top of a tank and pummelled Lucas from above. He wrung Lucas’ right arm behind his back, shoving him to the side of a jeep and with a strong move managed to break the arm and dislocated the joint. Lucas grunted in pain, but he had to keep fighting, so he turned around and tried to hit the thief with his left hook. Again, the stranger was behind him, putting him in a headlock, blocking his airway. Soon everything went black.

Lucas awoke in the hospital, groggy from the pain meds, he tried to get out of bed. The nurses had to call security to force him back into bed. The doctor gave him a shot of a sedative to keep him calm. Sleep came to him and with that, dreams. He dreamt of two young boys, who looked identical to each other. He dreamt of a woman, who had a warm embrace, whose laughter was making him laugh in his dream. He dreamt of climbing a tree into a treehouse, where he had a small radio that was playing Iron Maiden.

“How have the three terrors been doing today?” He remembered a male voice saying.

“It has been a quiet day.” The woman in his dream said. She stood from the sandbox, where the two other boys were playing, and kissed the man. He had the same defined jawline as Lucas, the dimple in his chin, the dark curly hair, but he had brown eyes. The woman turned around to watch him in the treehouse. Her blue eyes were filled with love and the smile on her lips made his heart ache.

Lucas opened his eyes. He had just dreamt of his birth parents. He remembered having two brothers, they were triplets. He ran his left hand over his face and groaned in frustration. He felt for his medallion and pulled it out from under his shirt.

“Trevor Thompson

Son of William and Jennifer Thompson

Born in California”

“Nurse!” He boomed. A petite elderly nurse walked in with a stern look. “I need a phone.”

“Listen here, captain. You’re not going to be calling anyone until you’ve healed that arm. Go back to sleep, or I swear I keep you sedated until you learn some manners,” she told him and was about to walk out when he apologized.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. That wasn’t very kind of me to forget to ask instead of demanding it. May I please have a phone?”

“So, there is a little southern gentleman in you. What’d you need a phone for?” She asked curiously.

“Need to make a call to my ma.”

“Aren’t you a good son. Don’t move.”

A moment later she walked in with a mobile phone. He quickly punched in his mother’s number. He looked at the clock on the wall, hoping she was awake already.

“Silvia speaking,” her grumpy morning voice made him smile. She couldn’t function properly without having downed a pot of coffee. That’s where he got his coffee addiction.

“Ma?” He said with a grin.

“Lucas? Lucas! How are you? Why are you calling this early? Going to battle? Don’t think you’ll come back? What the hell is going on Lucas Philip Syverson?!”

He laughed at her nervous rambling. So, making her nervous was waking her up better than coffee. Noted.

“No, ma. I’m not going on a mission. I’m in the hospital…” he started but was interrupted.

“In the hospital?! Why the fuck are you calling from the hospital? Why haven’t your superiors called the moment you were admitted?”

“Ma! Slow down. I’m fine.”

“Fine? You’re in the hospital! Lucas, what is going on?”

“Ma, I need to ask you something first.”

“What?” He could hear the annoyance radiating through the phone, which made his heart filled with happiness, as it indicated that his adoptive mother was still in good health.

“When you adopted me, did they tell you that I had two brothers?”

Silence.

“Lucas…”

“Ma, did you know?”

He heard her take a deep breath.

“Yes. I did know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that I have brothers?”

“Lucas, when we brought you into our home, we signed a piece of paper, saying that we wouldn’t try to contact the other families, or try to find your brothers because you boys had been traumatized by the loss of your birth parents,” she took another deep breath and continued: “We were told, your father and I, that you boys hadn’t spoken for days. When you came to us, you were so timid. You were harder to open up than an oyster. But with a little time and love, you started talking again. You started smiling and laughing, and you never talked about your brothers, so we thought it was for the best. I never meant to hide the facts from you.”

“Yes, ma’am. Ma?”

“Yes, sweetie.”

“I met one of my brothers. And I think he’s in trouble.”

[blogspersonal707]

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𝐈 𝐃 𝐄 𝐍 𝐓 𝐈 𝐅 𝐈 𝐂 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍  /  𝐂 𝐀 𝐑 𝐃

when  yongsun  hands  over  his  identification  card   ,   it’s  clear  something’s  struck  a  nerve   .   ❝   hey   ,   you’re  the  GUMIHO’s  son   ,   aren’t  ya   ?   you  know   ,   that  notorious  south  korean  villain  who  ate  her  victims’   —   ❞   the  poor  student  volunteer  didn’t  get  a  chance  to  finish  their  sentence   ,   mostly  due  to  yongsun’s  fists  connecting  with  the  student’s  teeth   .

H I S T O R Y

yongsun was born in seoul, south  korea. his childhood was glamourous. his father was a fashion designer & made a name for himself on multiple international runways. his mother was a model who was known for her fierce, in-control  demeanour. she was a force to be reckoned with & she always got what  she wanted. she was a ballet dancer before that, though as all dancers are forced to be met with — the body’s not meant for such rigorous fervour all the time. the two were determined to pamper their child & make sure that life wouldn’t be cruel to them.

their child was fierce & determined like his mother, hard-working & passionate like his father. his eyes were set on the heroes he saw on the television & the way they looked so cool while they fought. growing up, he was a huge hero merch fiend. this served as an endearing trait as he became a child actor personality. whenever they published behind-the-scenes footage of young yongsun, he was always decked out in hero merch. he was a good child actor, compliant to his parents & possessing a natural talent for memorization. not to mention that his parents already had influence in the entertainment world.

as he got older, a few things became abundantly clear. yongsun was becoming a bully, heavily demanding & not the greatest when it came to rejection. yongsun was also becoming a proficient fighter, practicing with his quirk until twilight & learning all he could about the way fireworks worked. yongsun was the king of the playground & woe to those who tried to contest that.

oh, the way things changed when he graduated elementary school. he stopped taking up actor roles, claiming he wanted to focus on his schooling. shame, the public thought, he had such a handsome face that belonged on the screen. still, if one were to dig, they could find all the television shows & movies that yongsun was in as a child. nonetheless, yongsun was kidnapped at twelve by a small villain organization that belonged to the GUMIHO.

the GUMIHO was a notorious, ruthless villain that attacked people on the streets. seemingly at random. the victims would go missing for weeks, only to turn up murdered & without their livers or hearts. like the legend of the nine-tailed fox, the villain was dubbed GUMIHO by the public. soon, villains flocked to the GUMIHO in attempt to form a powerful organization that wreaked chaos & cruelty across seoul. 

yongsun’s parents begged heroes to help find their son. they made public statements, issued rewards for information regarding their only child. they pleaded with the world to not let him be taken by the GUMIHO. five days later, yongsun made an appearance. he broke himself out of the hideout all on his own. he escaped the clutches of the GUMIHO. but the yongsun that came back wasn’t the yongsun that was kidnapped.

somehow, yongsun became even mouthier & rude than before. he closed himself off from his parents, holed himself in his room, only talking to a select few. he became very good at the broody preteen sterotype. then, one day, their home was invaded.

his parents, frantic & desperate not to be taken in by the police, were quick to deploy counteractive measures. still, officers in gear stormed their mansion. when yongsun’s father begged yongsun to go with them, to continue living the life they always had — yongsun took a walke talkie out of his hoodie pocket & radioed the leader of the raid that the villains GUMIHO & ENDER were trying to escape through a secret exit in the private study. yongsun didn’t leave his father’s gaze as he did so & his father noticed something that he’s never seen in his son’s eyes before: pain. it hurt yongsun to put his parents behind bars but it’s what heroes do, right? heroes have to make sure that villains end up punished for their crimes by the law.

you see, the GUMIHO & ENDER had an outstanding investigation to identify & apprehend them. they were close to cracking the case too. in desperation, yongsun’s father suggested that they kidnap yongsun. not out of malice & never intending to hurt him, but to throw the police off their scent. they trusted yongsun to put up a fight, to be a hassle for their henchmen to handle. maybe they put too much trust in their hero-to-be, as yongsun completely escaped & noticed strange discrepancies during his escape. his broodiness was actually investigation into his own parents.

the wealth that the villain couple accumulated legally was sealed away until yongsun became of age. until then, he was set to live with his maternal grandparents... who lived in america. he also disappeared from south korea’s media. he declined interviews & statements of his own. he all but disappeared from his home country’s eyes. GUMIHO & ENDER were sent to the highest security villain prison that south korea has to offer. although visitors are allowed, they both knew that they couldn’t expect any.

in america, he was the classic angsty teenage transfer student. however, he excelled in hockey when he was offered the chance to try out for the high school team. in fact, people assumed he was going to put everything into hockey. he never spoke about being a hero. he still refused to talk about his parents. he seemed to forget about being a hero.

turns out that yongsun was being a vigilante all throughout high school. he’d sneak out in the middle of the night to find crimes to stop. during this period of time, he was angry & cruel. full of grief & loss. any villain that he’d leave on the doorstep of the police station was beaten to an inch of their life. at least, they were alive. he had choices to make upon coming to college, however. let everyone know he was still fully intending on being a hero or continue this facade & accept a hockey scholarship ? he continued to pretend for two more years before finally having to drop out of his old university to pursue heroism.

he reached a stalemate. he couldn’t fight any better than he could, unless he had support items & endorsements. he couldn’t continue only doing this at night, as his regular schooling required his attention if he weren’t to fail. so then, he entered u.a academy two years late. still, he was exceptional in the course & quick to use his experience as a vigilante to his advantage. 

S T A T I S T I C S

POWER: ★★★★★

SPEED: ★★★✰✰

TECHNIQUE: ★★★★✰

INTELLIGENCE: ★★★★✰

COOPERATIVENESS: ★✰✰✰✰

M O V E S

ILLUMINARY: yongsun lights a bunch of short, bright white bursts of fireworks from all over his body, temporarily disabling his opponent. this movie is accompanied with a straightforward advance before he jumps & spins, using the momentum of the small fireworks to keep him moving forward like a missile. this move allows him to get closer to his opponent to allow for short-range attacks.

EMPEROR’S PARTY:  this move is considered an ultimate move, something he uses when he’s confident that victory is assured. the reason being is because it takes a lot of concentration to manifest. he fires off fireworks from his feet, thrusting him into the air. from here, he sets off a sequence of fireworks that are large, loud & that will set anything within two meters of it on fire. it’s called emperor’s party as it’s reminiscent of a fireworks show finale. his body is hard to see through the fireworks.

SIKE OUT: there are some fireworks that are bright & sparkling, though do little in terms of damage. these gaudy displays are some of yongsun’s favourite moves. he’ll shoot these types of fireworks from his hands in a straightforward as the firework is already creating a trail of sparks as they emit from his hand. he then sends a second barrage of fireworks, though they are a delayed ignition firework. they are silent & invisible until the last possible moment & by then, yongsun would have maneuvered his opponent to be in the crossmark.

C O N N E C T I O N S

t b a (aka i’m leaving right away but i want to post this i will come back to edit this)

[meat-husband]

Yeah, ok, I’m giving in. Vincent Sinclair is added to the list of characters I write for :p Since I’ve got six of them now, if an ask doesn’t specify which ones they want, I’ll just pick four to write for. And I’m going to limit the number of characters to four per ask, just so it’s easier to get through things. Only new asks will include Vincent, so if there is something already submitted, I’m writing it for the characters I did when it was sent. 

So, like usual, here’s the NSFW and Fluff Alphabet asks below the cut!

NSFW HC

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He’s just as worn out as you, so it’s mostly just laying together and catching your breath. He likes to spend a while just holding you and calming down, playing with your hair and humming into your ear quietly. 

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

If he absolutely had to make a choice, he wouldn’t be able to complete his work without his skilled hands. 

It’s not really a body part, but he likes your smile best. It’s always been rare for anyone to show him any sort of positivity or affection, so he loves to see that sort of thing from you, especially if he’s the one to make you smile. 

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He doesn’t really care himself, but he’s not pulling out once he gets going, so if that’s not what you want, you’re going to have to plan around it. This also means that you might want to get your hands on some sort of birth control, if that’s a concern. 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s been spying on you from the moment you entered the house, and there are more than a few peepholes that look into your room. He isn’t all that subtle about it either, so you figure out really quickly what that strange noise is on the other side of the wall. He absolutely still uses them, even once you’re a couple, but at that point it’s usually just to check in without disturbing you, rather than trying to see something he shouldn’t. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s definitely had the chance to look at and explore other bodies, but they weren’t exactly alive. So he knows the anatomy, but other than that all he knows are things he’s managed to pick up from his brother’s foul talk and whatever he can find in the books around the house. Overall, he knows enough to get by on instinct, but you’ll have to give him the details. 

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Anything where he’s behind you, preferably laying over you and pushing you into the pillows and mattress. also lets him comfortably remove the mask and not have to worry about you trying to peek while he’s distracted. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He’ll follow your lead, but it’s usually a sort of mix between the two. He’s rougher than you would think, using his size to move you around or keep you from squirming too much, and will surprise you by taking charge and putting you in whatever position he wants you in. 

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He’s generally pretty clean, except for his hands and clothes, which will always have wax, paint or ink on them. But when he gets busy, he tends to ignore cleaning up, so he will go days at a time without a shower unless you push him to. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He’s not very confident but even Vincent is pretty sure that he’s got the romantic stuff down - he’s seen all the old movies and read quite a few harlequin novels, so he feels like he’s got a good grasp on that part of things. Unfortunately, he really, really does not have it down, and it comes off as more creepy than anything at first. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation head canon)

Usually he just tries to focus on something else and ignore it, but will ultimately give in. He’d rather not get caught, so the whole basement gets locked down. Once you’re an item, though, he’s not shy about approaching you rather than taking care of it himself. Make it clear that waking you up is a no-no, or he’ll be sneaking into bed and interrupting your sleep a few times a night. 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Absolutely loves giving oral, but anything that requires him to take off the mask requires a lot of trust before he’ll actually do it. Has a thing for touching you while you’re sleeping, trying to see how far he can get before you wake up, then pretending to be asleep once you’re awake and wondering what you were dreaming about. 

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Privacy is the most important thing, so wherever it happens, he wants to be sure there’s not going to be anyone else around. Usually that means downstairs, but if the rest of the house happens to be empty, that’s not off limits. You’ve snuck out a few times to drive around, and there’s nowhere more private than the truck in the middle of nowhere. 

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

He’s a little voyeuristic and likes secretly watching you, even if you’re not doing anything particularly exciting. Loves when you kiss or bite at his neck, especially if you leave marks - lay on top of him with your mouth on his throat, so he can grind against you while you mark him up. He can’t deal with the teasing his brothers give him for it, so he usually hides the marks afterwards. 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Very much not into any kind of humiliation, degradation or anything negative, regardless of who it’s directed at. Things that are very rough or violent, like choking, biting or hard spanking, is a big, big no. He doesn’t want to leave any lasting marks, so anything that produces more than a small bruise isn’t going down. 

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

It’s a long process when you’re the one giving, because he just can’t not push up into your mouth. He tries not to, but you end up choking a lot anyways, and it’s a lot of starting and stopping while you try to catch your breath. It will take a while before he’ll return the favor, but once he’s comfortable with it, it’s one of his favorite things and he’ll ignore his own needs if it keeps his head between your thighs. 

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

He’s surprisingly aggressive sometimes, but not necessarily rough, holding you down and rutting into you desperately. You do have to stop him from trying to go at it as fast as possible, but the only time he takes it slow naturally is when he’s sleepy or just waking up. 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’s fine with whatever he can get, and so long as you’re both satisfied at the end, he doesn’t really care much how long it took to get there. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

As far as trying new things, he’ll try out almost anything you suggest. He’s less open to anything that might get you discovered, but you’ve been caught off guard more than once by a hand grabbing at you under the dinner table. 

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He’s never ready to stop, but despite that he still has to eventually. Even when he’s done and tired, he’ll keep working you with his hands unless you make him stop. 

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Not likely, unless you happen to sneak in a few purchases while you’re in the next town over. You wouldn’t dream of asking Bo, but you could probably convince Lester to go into some of the seedier stores for you, so long as you bribe him for it. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn’t really have the confidence to tease you. No matter how many yes’s he gets, he’s always sure the next time it’s going to be a no, so he doesn’t want to push it. Teasing him just turns him into a flustered mess for the rest of the day, and he’ll be too embarrassed about it to seek you out, so you’ll have to go hunt him down. 

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Louder than you would think, he makes a lot of noise for someone who rarely speaks. He curses under his breath, whispers to you, and only gets louder the closer he gets. 

W = Wild Card (Get a random head canon for the character of your choice)

He’s good at just about any skill he tries, and not just the artsy ones. He’s just as good, if not better, than either of his brothers when it comes to cars and machinery, but he tends not to practice those skills because he knows Bo would be touchy about it. He’s also taught himself bits of other languages, but he’s not fluent in any of them. 

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive)

He’s never going to say no, so usually he just goes along with your preferences. You can always tell when there’s a slow down in work, because he’s practically attached to you 24/7 when he doesn’t have anything to do. 

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) 

It usually doesn’t take long, because once you get him comfortable he’s out almost immediately. But even if he is tired, there’s always something he has to tend to eventually, so if he does fall asleep, it isn’t for long. You can pry a few more minutes out of him if you’re stubborn enough, but he’ll have to deny you sooner or later, or risk letting something go wrong in the workroom. 

Fluff HC

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

There’s something that draws his interest and keeps you alive in the first place, something that separates you from the others that he’s seen in the same position and not shown mercy to. Part of it is your physical appearance because he’s attracted to you from the beginning, but the other part of it could really be anything. 

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?) Honestly, he’s not sure and would probably stay on the fence until you push him one way or the other. He doesn’t have a strong desire for a traditional family like his twin does, but he’d almost be scared of achieving that before Bo. He wouldn’t be unhappy at the opportunity, but he would be very unsure about it. 

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

He’s very stiff at first, letting you climb all over and get comfortable, and making no move to do anything but let you. As he gets more used to it he will finally relax and put his arms around you without prompting, but he still starts out a little awkwardly each time. It’s easiest when he’s half asleep and too tired to be nervous about where or how he’s touching you. 

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

There’s not a lot that can be done, being limited to the house, museum and basements. Anything in the house is likely to be interrupted by one brother, if not both, and you’ve seen the museum a hundred times. He isn’t supposed to leave the house, but he’ll sneak out with you for walks or short drives through the woods. 

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

You are just for him and only for him. It’s hard to tell at first, but he’s very jealous and possessive. Ideally, he’s the only person you would ever need or rely on, so he tries to manipulate things to turn it in that direction. At the same time, he knows that’s not realistic, but he’s always going to have a nagging feeling that you’re going to be taken away. 

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

It hits him pretty early on, and he’s quickly at the edge of obsession. He’s almost passive-aggressive about it, sometimes following you around and desperate to get your attention, then spending two whole days ignoring you. He assumes there’s going to be no interest on your side, so he switches rapidly between giving up hope and being determined to try anyways. Unfortunately, he tends to go about flirting in rather unusual ways, so he comes off very creepy for the longest time. But you’re his, Bo said he could keep you, and as far as he’s concerned, this is already a committed relationship. 

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Gentle is usually his default, especially with you. Mostly it comes from being unfamiliar with touch and used to being pushed away, so it’s more hesitation and insecurity than gentleness. He’s skittish when it comes to touching you, pulling at your sleeve to get your attention and ask permission first. 

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

It’s one of the few physical touches he’s completely comfortable with, and he’s always happy to have you reach for his hand, so long as he’s not working. He’s more shy about reaching for yours, so he’ll keep getting close and then backing off until you take charge and just grab his hand. 

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

He’s very much a love at first sight kinda guy, so he’s pretty much wrapped around your little finger from the start. That comes in handy when you’re trying to keep from being made into a living sculpture, but he isn’t the one who gets to decide if you stay or not. You’ve got to charm both brothers if you want to keep living, so good luck with that. 

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Insanely jealous of just about everyone and everything. Victims, his brothers, that book you’re reading, the dog, anything that you give even the smallest amount of attention to burns him. He feels guilty about it, so he never really acts on it, but sometimes the realization hits him that you could so easily do without him, and he hates knowing that you aren’t as dependent on him as he is on you. 

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

You are going to go a long, long time before you get to kiss anything but the mask. But he definitely goes in for the first kiss, probably well before you’ve graduated from your starting role as a hostage, so the first one is rather tense. Once you’re happy with your place with him, you’re the one coming to him for kisses. 

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

He can speak, although he doesn’t do it often. But he’s much more comfortable with telling you how he feels than showing it physically, so he is definitely going to be the one who says it first. It’s also probably very early into anything romantic, so before you’re even sure if you want to pursue anything, he’s already busting out the I love you’s. 

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

The first time you really smiled at him, and he doesn’t even really remember why you were smiling. It was nothing like the weak, shakey smiles with trembling lips and frightened eyes that you used to give him, and it was the first time he had seen anything warm or kind from you. 

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

It’s rare to bring home anything that didn’t come from an unfortunate traveler, and Vincent never really leaves the house, but they’ve got a whole town full of junk and you can have first pick. He likes to go through everything first and try to find the best things before you do so that he can present them to you. He will try and get one of the brothers to bring something back from town every once in a while, but they don’t usually follow through. 

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Soft, dreamy colors, usually warm ones. You spend a lot of time downstairs with him, where the lighting is mostly orange and red hued from all the candles, and it’s how he pictures you in his mind. 

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

He doesn’t really have any for you, at least none that he’s said to you before. Loves it when you use sweet names for him, though, and that’s the quickest way to get his attention if he’s not completely focused on what you’re saying. You can get just about anything from him if you use the right pet name. 

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

Most of what they own is non-modern, but ignoring the obvious things, he has a small collection of foreign coins that’s he’s found on travelers. They might not actually be old so much as strange, but he’s always sure to search through change in case there’s another oddly shaped coin to be found. 

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Rain doesn’t make much of a difference when you’re almost always inside. Sometimes the basement at the house floods, but other than that, he just goes about the day as usual. It does mean that everyone is stuck at home, though, and it can be a volatile atmosphere having the three of you cooped up together. 

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

He doesn’t do much to help himself, he just sort of wallows in misery for a while until he has to get back to work. He’s busy enough that it doesn’t happen too often, but any moment of calm will usually lead to a few days of moping around. 

He learned long ago that there isn’t much reason in trying to cheer up his brother, but he still tries. Most of the time it just makes the situation worse, but he can’t just leave it. He’s used to being rebuffed, so if he tries it on you he’s ready to be turned away, and it’s a nice surprise to have his attempts be appreciated for once. 

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

His voice is quiet and raspy, and you’re almost sure that it causes him some amount of pain to speak, so you’re happy to play charades most of the time. You talk or read out loud as he works, and when you’re speaking together, he will sometimes provide short, one word sentences if he can’t properly get it across otherwise. 

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Just doing nothing. There is always more work to be done on something, so there is no end to the number of tasks he has waiting on him. Being able to just zone out, lay in bed and not have to get up is a luxury, but it’s the best way to get him to wind down. He likes to have you read to him when he gets the chance to do so, whatever book is closest, and fall asleep listening to you. 

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?) 

The only thing he’s really proud of is the work he does, and it’s pretty much all he’s ever been complimented on before. He’s glad to show off his artistic skill, but if you happen to praise literally anything else - how nice his hair looked that day, what a good job he did helping with dinner - he will go out of his way to do it again, as often as possible, and soak up the positivity. 

W = Wedding (When, how?)

Oddly enough, Bo is going to be the one pushing for a wedding before anyone else. He switches between being the proud brother to a jealous, angry mess, but it’s still going to come down to joining the family or the museum. You don’t get much of a say in terms of the actual ceremony, but Vincent is just happy to have his brothers approval. Obviously, a wedding made up of wax bodies with no priest or paperwork in sight isn’t going to be legal, but it’s the thought that counts. 

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

Usually he only listens to music for the background noise when he’s working, just so it’s not completely silent. He really only likes music without vocals, otherwise it’s too distracting. 

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

After a certain point, it’s on his mind constantly. It’s something he would never consider without the blessing of his twin, and the probability of getting a ‘yes’ out of him changes by the minute, so it takes a lot of time and effort. In the end, it’s only going to happen on Bo’s terms, and if that’s not the way you want it done, then you’re not getting a ring on your finger. 

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

They’ve got one dog and that’s probably as much as Bo is going to allow. While Vincent likes animals, he wouldn’t go out of his way to get a pet on his own, and he’d be perfectly happy without one. He does prefer dogs to cats, mainly because he enjoys teaching them tricks. 

[villainrps]

Hi everyone! You may know me as NEETU/NAV/NINA/MINA/NIA, or just by my URL, @villainrps. I had the real displeasure of having to read some shit the last few days, and I’m here to tell you that I’m not happy about it, it wasn’t okay, and here’s why! I had someone who I had never spoken to before and who I, honestly, was not consciously following confront me and admit to having stalked me over a course of several years before finally coming forward and accusing me of plagiarism. This claim has no basis in reality or fact, which I told her to her face privately before she made the decision to block me before I could reply further. I feel no great shame or even hesitation mention this person’s name or URL as they’ve threatened to write a PSA about me for something I know I haven’t done, despite what an overinflated ego believes and might have you believe, so I thought I’d beat her to the punch and “expose” myself rather than give someone else the satisfaction. Read on below to find out all about this rather unpleasant encounter with Sarah, @marvolo ( previously @lilys and @aangs ).

As I’ve already said, I’ll begin with acknowledging that I was, apparently, at one time following Sarah. We never met or spoke, if we were ever in a roleplay together it’s not something I was aware of, and her most recent old URL wasn’t even one that I recognized. I believe that I began following her when she was @aangs, and I found her blog through a friend of mine ( @herorps ) who was likely following Sarah for her RP resources.

I also want to touch on the fact that Sarah states she has been playing the character in question -- a canon character, Lily Luna Potter -- since 2012. I have also been playing Lily Luna since 2012, and I’m sure there are a good number of other people who have been playing her for at least three years, if not the seven that Sarah and I both have. I also want to state that I have never seen Sarah’s portrayal of Lily Luna out in the wild, so to speak, at least to my own conscious knowledge as, despite the fact that she’s apparently been keeping tabs on me, I’ve not been keeping tabs on her. I want to make very clear that I have never plagiarised from anyone, for a number of reasons: a) it’s morally wrong, b) especially in the case of roleplay, it’s not a concept I could ever wrap my head around as writing someone else’s character in any capacity for any length of time isn’t sustainable, and c) I don’t need to. Anyone who knows me knows that I’m an incredibly confident person; I’m secure in my own abilities, I would and have never felt the need to bolster my own skills using the labor of someone else.

Before Sarah took the immense courtesy of very brusquely messaging me with this accusation herself, she decided to present a massive compilation of evidence to the admins of a group that I’m currently in, collected -- again, by her own admission -- over the course of several years without my knowledge of, to put it bluntly, any idea who she even was. You’ll find screenshots of all of these conversations below, but I just want to make it very clear before continuing that this kind of behavior is a plague in our community, and nothing ever makes it okay to literally stalk a complete stranger for years, not even taking into account how calmly and easily she admitted it to a third party, another stranger, as if it’s something rational and normal to do.

Now, regarding the things she’s accusing me of stealing from her portrayal of Lily Luna -- face claim, occupation, house, personality traits, and a few headcanons that I believe to be very generic not only for this specific character but just as far as headcanons go in general -- obviously, yes, I’m as a whole denying all of it. It’s just not true. You’re more than welcome to believe whatever you want about me, but I’m saying now, for the record, that this is not true, and what prompted me to write my own PSA is to call attention to this absolutely reprehensible behavior, as it was total bullshit to me, but also as I’ve heard in asking around that Sarah has a history of making these kinds of accusations against people.

Find first the screenshots of the Google Doc she sent to the admins of a group that I’m in; the Google Doc itself is now defunct, but the admins can attest that these screenshots are complete and unaltered. 

PLEASE CLICK HERE TO BE REDIRECTED TO THE SCREENSHOTS.

You'll see on the first page, she admits to having stalked me for "many years," and also posts that her biography has gone through several changes over the years, as well as the fact that she has people who can vouch for her who have been in previous groups with her. I, also, have people who I've known since 2012 who can vouch for me. She also says on the second page that she softblocked me at some point, rather than saying absolutely anything about any of this, despite having kept tabs on me for years and having said or done God knows what to other people about a situation that I had no knowledge of. Also on the second page she vows to "hold [the admins] accountable for the irresponsible way they handled the situation," which apparently just means they read this massive document and decided they didn't agree with her, so obviously they're wrong and at fault here as well. I really have nothing to say about these biosheet/introduction comparisons. I've run the similarities by half a dozen people now, and none of us can see how they're "too similar to be a coincidence," as Sarah says to me later, in our conversation. These are all fairly generic traits and headcanons; talking about Gryffindor traits, about her canonical family, about a headcanon of not being able to cook?, and another that literally just describes some basic Gryffindor aesthetics that you can find right away in a five second Pinterest search. None of these are unique to either one of our portrayals. This is a canon character with an established fanon. I'm sure you could find at LEAST a dozen other people who play Lily as a headstrong Gryffindor who has Harry's eyes and is afraid of losing her family. Towards the end of all this, she also mentions two similar character URLs -- mine, daughterofheroes, isn't even something I came up with myself, it was given to me by a friend that used to play Lily Luna. Additionally, she mentions some similar tags that we both use; "out of the ashes" was based on a really specific RPG event from a group that I ran years ago, and I don't think that I have to say that "lionheart" is about as generic as it gets for a Gryffindor. Then, out of nowhere, she accuses me of changing my introduction for Lily for MinistryHQ, a group that I co-adminned and she apparently briefly thought about joining, to avoid "[being] caught in the act." Remember how she's said her Lily biography has gone through many changes over the years? Apparently, when she does it, it's natural evolution and it's valid, but when I do it, it's obviously because I'm a vicious sneak thief and I don't want anyone to notice. Which, if I didn't want her to "detect" me in my own group, would I not have simply... blocked her? Softblocked her like she did to me? ANYWAY. It then details her conversation with the admins of the group I'm in, where she accuses me of plagiarism to them, but asks that I not be told about them at all, which -- I don't know, maybe I'm being unreasonable, but that's incredibly insensitive to the admins and the position that’s putting them in ( hey, kick this person out but you're not allowed to tell them why! ), not to mention still being weirdly stealthy about stalking me for this long?? Not only accusing me of plagiarism to them, then, but completely reaching up your ass and deciding that the reason you've kept all this a secret is because you think I'm going to harass you?? So now I'm not only a thief, I'm a bully too?? And, again, WE HAVE NEVER SPOKEN. In my opinion, the admins are exactly on point, telling her that the only person doing the harassment is you -- I have no idea how this can be seen as anything but, deciding you don't want a total stranger to have access to your blog despite the fact you've NEVER allotted them the courtesy of knowing you have an issue with them to begin with, despite the fact that you're helping yourself to having kept tabs on them for a span of YEARS -- and saying, like what I've just said, that neither of our Lily portrayals are particularly unique. I'll own up to that lol. But Sarah's not quite ready to do that, as you'll see in this next set of screenshots.

Next you can find the screenshots of Sarah finally taking the time to message me about her perceived grievance with me, finally after being quite literally forced to after her encounter with the admins of the group I’m in. 

PLEASE CLICK HERE TO BE REDIRECTED TO SCREENSHOTS

A lot of the things I have to say I've already said directly to Sarah. Before I was blocked, that is. I'm a very-upfront person, and my tone in these IMs is not gonna be any different from my tone in this PSA lol. But let's still pick through for any important things. This is probably a little petty to point out, but I really need to mention that she says she's "[tried] to just let this go" and I really wanna ask you, reading this: does any of this so far seem like the actions or mental space of a person who's trying to let this go? Because that's not how it reads to me! But anyway, like I say to her, the tone of this message is incredibly abrasive; I don't think it's at all fair that she's been letting this anger and resentment stew for literal years, only to come at me with this message and act like she's tried to address it to me before and this is her last warning before putting me on blast as a last straw. Again, like I say to her, I just really think this whole accusation is incredibly ego-based coming from a place of thinking that she has a singular claim to what is just a very generic portrayal of this popular canon character, thinking that anyone who plays this character in a similar way to her must, logically, be copying her because there’s no other explanation for two similar ideas other than the fact that someone is jealous of her, etc. Much of this speaks for itself, but at the end of this conversation you can see us talking about the fact that the basis for my Lily Luna is a completely different canon character from an entirely different fandom. Even when I mention that and link her the application from four years ago, she still insists that that biography, now, was even plagiarized from her Lily Luna, despite how little sense that makes. If I wanted to rip someone's biography for Canon Character A, I would rip someone's biography that was also written for Canon Character A, not stumble upon a biography for a completely unrelated Canon Character B and copy that. This one in particular just really. Blows my mind. She ends the conversation by saying that it's "ridiculous" that I won't "cop" to something that I did not do; what I find ridiculous is that she's now had three people tell her her characterization just ain't that special and instead she's choosing to fall back on this narcissistic tirade that she's apparently been on against me for years without my knowledge. Well, you know what, Sarah? I had no reason to care about you then, and I still have no reason to care about you now. But you know what, honey? If this helps you sleep better at night, stalking and harassing random strangers on the internet to feed your ego, then you just go on believing that I’m the bad guy and everyone’s out to get you. Clearly that’s what you need to make it through the day, so who am I to take that away from you?

In conclusion, this whole thing really just caught me off guard rather than having the intimidating effect that was intended. I know I didn’t steal from anyone, which is why I feel comfortable enough posting all this, but I think that this has really gone on long enough and some people in this community really just need to be held accountable for getting off on shit like this. Some people here are too scared of confrontation to call shit like this out, but I’m not one of them. 

If you’ve read this far and your brain is still intact, congratulations! Because I was feeling really fried after experiencing all of this first hand. This is ridiculous, considering I thought we left this sort of rpc drama back in 2015. Also, for reference to these proofs that were collected by Sarah, please see below for most of the screenshots, as the google doc is not available to me any longer.

PLEASE CLICK HERE TO BE REDIRECTED TO SCREENSHOTS

[livelongdolan]

Heart Shaped (G.D.)

Summary: In a world where matching birthmarks determines your soulmate, Y/N knows she will find the one for her, what she doesn’t expect is the nature of the relationship that quickly blossoms.

Word Count: 2.5k 

Warnings: suicide (overdose), death (car crash), angst 

A/N: This is my first fic that I have posted so please let me know if there’s anything I should fix :) thank you for reading! (i also do tag lists if you would like to be added to it!)

     You had been looking forward to this day ever since your parents had first told you about the soulmate system. You were told that in order to make sure the population was stable for many years to come, people now had matching birthmarks which indicated who your soulmate was. See, every child had the normal spots that came around but there was one that changed once you were at a certain age. It was different for each child, but for you it was at the age of seventeen. The morning of your seventeenth birthday you had gotten up to brush your teeth and you looked into the mirror, noticing that the birthmark on your chin had shifted into a small heart in the same spot. You quickly rushed to your parents and they hugged you, telling you happy birthday but you stopped them before they could say anything else. You told them to look at your chin and they soon spotted the spot that had changed overnight. They congratulated you and the day continued on as normal with a little added excitement for the chance of seeing her soulmate out and about. 

     Today was that day. It was a sunny afternoon, so you decided to take a little walk in the park when you noticed a boy sitting all alone on a bench. He looked about your age and even from about ten feet away you could see the muscles in his arms flexing as he leaned his head back on to them, stretching his legs out and almost to the path where people were jogging by. The strange thing was that they didn’t even move out of the way, it seemed as if they were just pretending he wasn’t there. You, being the kind person you were, decided to sit next to the boy and make some small talk since he seemed so alone. You made your way over to the bench and sat down next to him before crossing your legs and turning yourself towards him.

     “Hello! I noticed you were sitting here alone and I figured I would join you, as long as I’m not imposing or anything.” You spoke in your most polite voice in case there was a bad reason that no one was paying attention to him. 

     He simply raised his eyebrows as if he was confused, and looked at you straight on. You then noticed the heart shaped mark on his chin, in the same position that yours was in and butterflies went wild in your stomach. He had to be seeing this too right? That’s why he was confused? Oh, you really hoped he was because you didn’t want your soulmate to just be a rude man who wouldn’t talk to you. While the thoughts raced through your head he answered you with a voice deeper than you expected with a slight east coast accent. 

     “No, it’s okay. Uh, what’s your name? I’m Grayson.” He seemed to trip over his words. 

     “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.” You stuck your and out and shook his hand, which was surprisingly cold. Grayson, you thought, what a nice name for your soulmate and it perfectly fit him somehow. He had a strange aura about him, almost as if you had seen him before. You pushed that aside and put something out on the table that was most likely bugging him as much as it was bugging you. “So… we have the same birthmark.” You smiled slightly. 

     He looked at you closer and then realized the matching birthmark you had on your chin and a smile spread across your face. “Wow we really do,” he replied with the same smile that you had given him, “but something must be wrong.” His small smile quickly turned to a frown, as did yours. 

     “What do you mean? It can’t be wrong that’s how the system works. I’ve been waiting for this for all my life and you’re telling me it’s wrong?” You got slightly angry at the handsome boy seated in front of you. A couple with a stroller passed by and gave you a strange look, you assumed for almost yelling in the park, and you muttered an apology. You started to talk a little quieter. “What’s wrong with it Grayson?” You sighed. 

     “I think we should go somewhere else to talk about this, somewhere more private because what I’m going to tell you might shock you and I don’t want it to happen here.” He said quietly. You thought about it for a moment before you decided that it would be fine to go with him, even though you had just met him. You had your phone in your pocket if anything went wrong and, after all he was your soulmate. Right?

     You followed Grayson across the park, too caught up in your own thoughts to talk about anything. The two of you stopped after a bit and entered a small alcove, where no one could see you unless they went looking inside. You turned to Grayson with a questioning look, prepared to hear why he couldn’t be your soulmate. 

     “Okay, before I say anything you have to promise that you won’t tell anyone any of this ever happened because I’m afraid if you do, no one will believe you.” He said, as he rested his hand lightly on your forearm. You simply nodded your head, too confused to reply verbally. 

     After a deep breath, he finally said it. “I’m not alive.” He looked you dead in the eye and then you realized he was really just pulling a prank on you. You burst out in laughter but Grayson’s face remained the same as he waited for you to stop. Once you finally did, he spoke again. 

     “I knew you wouldn’t believe me. What do I have to do to prove it to you? You saw the way that people didn’t even acknowledge me. You saw the way that family looked at you when you were talking to me. They can’t see me. Only you can. And I’m assuming it’s because we are soulmates, which would be absolutely amazing if I were alive, the only problem is that i’m literally not.” His face was so serious that you actually believed him, your mouth gaped open in shock. 

     “B-but w-ha-” You stuttered out a few syllables but honestly you were speechless. Luckily, he spoke again so that you could process it all. 

     “I died a couple months ago. It’s still a pretty sensitive topic for me but if you’d like to hear it I will tell you.” He offered. You simply nodded your head although you weren’t really prepared to hear more about how the boy who was yours- or at least supposed to be- had died. 

     “Okay, well, back in April I was driving with my twin brother Ethan down a road that we went down almost every time we went to the beach but I was so distracted that instead of slowing down and actually stopping at the stop sign I went straight through since I didn’t notice it was there. Ethan’s side got hit first but I was just flung from the car on to the road. I looked back at Ethan and he was barely breathing, covered in blood, and had a shard of metal stuck through his chest. Someone called 911 but before we could even get there he died. He died because of me.” Grayson paused, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

     “If he is the one who died, why are you dead too?” You timidly asked. 

     Grayson wiped his eyes and continued. “Well, after he died I was stuck in the hospital for about a month getting healed and just seeing the hurt in my parents’ eyes broke me. They told me again and again that it wasn’t my fault but I knew they were lying. They knew they were lying. So I decided to take the burden off their shoulders. I knew that they hated looking at me because Ethan and I were twins so every time they saw me, they saw him too.” He took a sharp breath and continued on. “So instead of getting better, I got worse. I took the pain killers that the hospital had given me when they sent me home and I went in the bathroom that Ethan and I shared, and I took them all at once. I went through something which I am still not sure what it was but I could still see them. They found me on the floor holding a picture of him and tried to save me but it didn’t work. So now, I’m here.” 

     Tears had formed in your eyes as you listened to the boy’s sad story. You then remembered why you had recognized him earlier. He was the son of the well known Dolan Family, the ones that had made the system in the first place. You had seen the news of him and his brother’s death on the news. You could barely even believe that something so horrible could happen to someone, let alone your own soulmate. You pushed aside your slightly selfish thoughts and took a hold of his hand, the chill of it now made sense to you. 

     “I’m sorry Grayson. I’m so so sorry.” A single tear rolled down your cheek but he quickly moved the hand you weren’t holding up to brush it away. 

     “Hey hey darling, don’t cry, it’s okay. I’m the one who should be apologizing because look at me. I’m your soulmate and I was stupid and messed it up. I’m sorry that we can’t be together love. But it’s okay. At least you can see me right? And I’ll always be here for you. I’m sure with the way the system works you’ll be reassigned to another guy.” He gave a weak smile.

     “Grayson, I don’t want another guy. I know it sounds stupid because I literally just met you but I’ve been waiting for you my whole life. I’ve had dreams about who my soulmate would be and just because you aren’t alive doesn’t mean you’re not my soulmate. They can’t just assign someone else to me, that’s not how love works.” You cried. 

     Grayson pulled you forward and into his embrace as you cried into the soft material of his shirt. He let his fingers run through your hair, savoring the moments he had with you while he still had them. After a few moments you pulled away, sniffling. 

     “C-can I ask you something?” You hiccuped. 

     “Of course darling.” He smiled. 

     “Where’s Ethan? Like how come you’re here as a ghost or whatever you are and he’s not? Wouldn’t that be how it works?” You questioned, blinking through blurry eyes. 

     “I’m not really sure actually. I just figured that since he had already found his soulmate he was able to be at peace. I guess since I didn’t find you, until just now, I was left here to find you. But I’m glad I was because I don’t know how I could go on without knowing you at least for a little bit of time.” He stated. 

     You nodded your head but then your brain caught on to the last part of the sentence. 

    “What do you mean a little bit of time?” You were confused, was he going to leave already? Just because he wasn’t alive? Sure, you couldn’t do much but you were the only one that could see him, touch him, feel him. 

     “Well I’m assuming that now we found each other I’m going to be at peace too. I think it’s better for me anyways. Don’t get me wrong I really really love talking to you even if we have just been talking for an hour but I really miss Ethan. And I’m always just a little bit away. I can still hear you even if I have passed on, I just can’t directly speak back.” He frowned a bit with his statement. 

     “O-okay. Can we at least spend as long as we can together? Not out in public because I don’t want to look like a crazy person but like anywhere else?” You questioned. He smiled and nodded his head, having the perfect place in mind. The two of you walked down the street and around the corner until you reached a quiet overlook that held just a bench. No one was around so you two spent the rest of the night there, after you sent a quick text to your parents letting them know that you were okay. You talked about anything and everything and you really did know why this boy was your soulmate. He was perfect for you. He loved building, the outdoors, sports, but also loved just slowing things down for a moment and capturing the memories that really meant something. You learned about his family, and how Ethan tried to make them start a YouTube channel once but it never took off. You also learned about his hometown in New Jersey and all of the torment he went through in high school. You learned so much about this boy, but you would soon have to let him go. 

     It was close to five in the morning when Grayson felt a strange sensation in his stomach, almost as if he was being pulled. He looked down at you, laid asleep in his lap, and he knew it was time. He grabbed your phone and snapped a few pictures, then opened up the notes and typed out something for you to wake up to. He set your phone back down, sliding it into your pocket and pressed a soft kiss on your cheek before moving you slowly off of him. You grumbled a bit in your sleep but didn’t wake up as Grayson slowly faded away, going to be with his brother again after finally meeting his true love. 

     A couple of hours later you woke up and soon last night’s memories came flooding back as you started to panic. You looked around for Grayson but he wasn’t anywhere. You felt a buzz come from your phone and took it out of your pocket. You noticed that you had a text from your Mom, so you opened your phone but instead of texting her back you took a look at the note that was open. Tears filled your eyes and fell down your cheeks as you read it, absorbing each work slowly and carefully. Grayson was gone. He was at peace. And all he left besides a night of memories was a note. 

     Y/N, my darling, my soulmate, my everything, 

     Although we only met yesterday I could tell that we really are soulmates. I’m sorry that I have to go now but just know that I love you. You mean the world to me and I will always be with you, just call for me and I’ll be there. I promise. 

        Love, Grayson 

[suckitsurveys]

Ready to answer 151 Questions? No.

1. When was the last time you swam in a pool? Last week. I am extremely grateful to have access to a pool this summer. It’s at my sister’s mother in law’s. She lets my sister and her daughters use it while she’s at work and I tag along too.  2. Do you like to party? I love throwing parties. Not like, huge drunk ragers, but bday parties are my specialty.  3. If your ex suddenly kissed you right now, what would you do? I’ve been social distancing myself from them for almost 10 years, so. 4. Are you a virgin? Nope. 5. What are your parents views on your relationships? My dad likes Mark.

6. If you ran into your current boyfriend/crush in 10 years, would you marry them? I am married to my crush.  7. Is your best friend dating anyone? One is. 8. Describe the shirt you’re wearing? It’s an olive green shirt with the Route 66 logo on it. 9. Do people who wear Hollister and Abrerbrombie every day bother you? I really don’t care. 10. Could you go out in public without wearing make-up? I do that 99.99% of the time. 11. What is one feature that you don’t like? On myself? My stomach. 12. Would people describe you as happy? Not currently.  13. Are you single? Nope. 14. Does it bother you that pretty much every survey you take asks if you’re single? Nah. 15. Do you have Tumblr? I really only use it for this, which I also haven’t done in a while either.

16. What about Xanga? Aww, RIP Xanga. 17. Have you ever babysat before? Yes. 18. Is there a teacher who you absolutely hate? Most of my college professors.  19. Ever shopped at Sephora? I think I’ve been in one before? 20. If your current boyfriend/crush suddenly moved away, what would you do? I mean, I’d be pretty shocked and hurt. 21. Do you have any university plans? Lol. 22. If your best friend revealed she was a homosexual, what would you do? Support her?  23. What are your views on sex? Be safe! Always get consent! 24. Do sexual questions bother you? No. 25. Would you rather have sex with your boyfriend or break up? Uh, what? 26. Have you ever dreamed about your wedding? Yeah. 27. Does it bother you when people TYpe 1yk dis’? Yeah, I don’t see too much of it anymore. 28. Do you delete pictures of you and your exes off of Facebook? Yes. 29. Would you ever date a friends Ex? I did that once oops. 30. What’s the last book you read? I’m still working on a couple. 31. Ready for 10 simple questions? Sure. 32. What is your last name? No. 33. What grade are you in? No. 34. What school do you go to? No. 35. Summer, Fall, Winter or Spring? Summer and early fall.  36. Favorite Color? Purples and blues. 37. Are your parents together? My father is widowed.  38. Any siblings? I have an older sister. 39. Favorite subject? Eh.

40. Least favorite subject? Eh. 41. Favorite song? I could never just choose one. 42. Okay. Simple questions are over. Happy? I don’t care. 43. How many friends do you have on Facebook? 200 something. 44. Ever been requested by some old guy from another country? Probably. 45. Have you ever googled yourself? Yeah. 46. Have a Formspring? No. 47. You’re offered free tickets to a Justin Bieber concert. What do you do? Take them and sell them :P 48. Would you rather spend the day at an amusement park or a water park? Waterpark. Ughhhhhhhhh I miss waterparks so much. It’s so weird to not be going this summer. 49. Been to Disney world? Nope. 50. If someone posts their status “9 Inches :(” do you know what they mean? Sounds like one of those things where people post a random status from a list of things that will likely get people’s attention and whoever comments on it is privately sent said list of thing and they then choose something to post as their status and so on. That was a popular game thing on Facebook years ago. <---Yeah, that. 51. Ever had a boyfriend? Yes.

52. Ever had a huge crush on someone who still doesn’t know? I doubt Will Arnett knows I’m in love with him. 53. Have you done something in the last week that you regret? No. 54. Ever drank alcohol? Yes. 55. Know anyone who’s currently doing drugs? Yeah. 56. Ever watched The Hills? No. 57. What about Jersey Shore? Yes. 58. Ever called someone a slut? I’ve said that jokingly to friends. 59. What do you think of short shorts? You do you. 60. Does it bother you if people swear around you? Nope. 61. Have you ever gotten an A in a subject? Yes. 62. What about a B? Yes. 63. And a C? Yes. 64. How about a D? Yeah. 65. Ever skived? What’s that? 66. Would you consider yourself popular and outcast or somewhere in the middle? I’d say somewhere in the middle. I had friends, but I wasn’t “popular” by any means. 67. Are most of your friends older or younger than you? Most are older.  68. Ever been stabbed in the back by a close friend? Yes. 69. Do you think it’s immature when people laugh at the number 69? Oops. 70. Ever watched porn? Yes. 71. How many laws do you think you’ve broken in the past month? I drove with out a seat belt (for a few blocks) and jay walked oops.  72. Do you wake up with an alarm clock? On work days, yes. 73. Do you prefer Wednesdays or Thursdays? Wednesdays.  74. If your school had a Glee Club would you join? No. 75. Ever performed in a talent show? No. 76. Have you ever cried in public? Yeah. 77. Do you have a favorite between your Mom and your Dad? I’ve always had a special bond with my dad. I love my mom, but we butt heads a lot when I was a teenager. I feel like our bond was getting stronger just before she died and I’m really sad we don’t get to know each other as we got older.  78. Would you audition for a reality talent competition? Nooo. I have zero talent. 79. How many celebrity crushes have you had? A lot. 80. How many non-celebrity crushes have you had? A lot. 81. Name 5 male celebrities who you think are attractive. Will Arnett, Paul Rudd, John Mulaney, Andy Samberg, Ezra Koenig 82. Name 5 female celebrities who you think are attractive. Aubrey Plaza, Alison Brie, Lana Del Rey, Alia Shawkat, Kat Dennings 83. Ever been compared to a celebrity? Ha, no. 84. Have any embarrassing pictures on Facebook? No. 85. Do you think spending £20 on Lip Gloss is a waste of money? Idk what that is in US dollars but I don’t usually buy lip gloss, so. 86. Are you opinionated? I can be. 87. Do you have a favorite store? Sure. 88. Would you ever wear Flare Jeans? I used to in grade school. 89. Do you own jeans that aren’t skinny? I have one pair of “boyfriend” jeans that I don’t really like.  90. Have you ever worn the same outfit twice in one week? Hello, pandemic? 91. What’s the longest period of time you’ve been away from school? I don’t know. 92. Do you google abbreviations you don’t understand? Yeah. 93. Does it bother you when people have cats as their profile picture? I don’t care? 94. Own a pair of converse? Yes. 95. Is there a teacher at your school who has obvious favorites? There was. 96. If yes, are you one of them? Never. 97. Do you text in class? I have. 98. What brand of jeans do you wear the most? Target. 99. At what point do you think sizes are “Plus Sized?” Fuck that shit. “Plus” implies that there is a standard size. 100. Do you want to lose weight? I’d like to be healthier.  101. Ever seen a therapist? No, but I should. 102. Ever watched porn? You asked me this.  103. Ever purposely ignored a text? Yes. 104. A facebook message? Yes. 105. A poke? I always ignored those. That was a dumb feature Facebook had. 106. A friend request? Yeah. I don’t accept a request from anyone I don’t know, but I have it set up where you can’t add me unless you are friends with someone I am friends with.  107. Would you say you read into things too much? Yepppp. 108. Is your best friend more likely to be the one suggesting something stupid or refusing to do something stupid? I don’t know. 109. Do you have a “fun friend?” (A friend who you have tons of fun with but you never really have deep conversations?) Eh. 110. Ever been called a bully? No. 111. Ever purposely hurt yourself? Yes. 112. Ever gone to church? I went to a Lutheran high school and we used to have “chapel” every first full school day of the week (usually mondays). That was kind of a church service. And one time I spent the night at a friends house on a Saturday and was blindsided the next morning when her parents were like “okay time for church!” 113. Would you call either of your parents screw ups? Absolutely not! 114. If you turned out exactly like your mom would you be pleased? Yes and no. 115. What do you want to do with your life? Lol.

116. Let me guess… You have brown hair? My roots right now are basically a really dirty blonde. And my tips were black but they are pretty brown right now. And hair inbetween is mint green lol. Pandemic hair ftw. 117. Already know what you’re being for Halloween? I’ll probably be Princess Carolyn again. Or just a bat, since I have both of those costumes.  118. Do you still go Trick or Treating? With my nieces, but we probably won’t be able to go this year :(  119. Ever liked someone WAY older than you? Celebrities. 120. Does it bother you when people have really loud conversations on the bus? Yes. 121. When you have sunglasses on, do you stare at people? I have. 122. Ever had a credit card denied? Yeah. 123. What’s the last movie you watched? Oh god, it’s been a while. I Love You Man, I think? 124. Last TV Show? Property Brothers, lol.  125. You see your Ex making out with one of your friends. What do you do? They wouldn’t.  126. Ever been called a whore? Jokingly. 127. Are you american? Yes. 128. Ever made yourself throw up? Yeah. 129. Have you ever kissed someone who wasn’t your boyfriend? Uh huh. 130. Are you Cute or Gross? Yes. 131. Does it bother you when people say “LOOK HOW MUCH YOU’VE GROWN!”? No one has said that to me in a very long time. I don’t recall being bothered by it, though. 132. Can you say intelligent things around the guy you like? Um, yes? Why couldn’t I? 133. Ever had the lead in a play? Not the lead, no. 134. What about a solo in a concert? Nope. 135. What kind of a student are you? I did okay in grade and high school. 136. Worst subject? All of college. 137. Best subject? Not college. 138. Ever had a crush on a teacher? Yeah. 139. Would it bother you if you found out that your mother was pregnant? Seeing as she’s dead, yeah, a little. 140. How late do you sleep in? On work days I sleep until the absolutely last minute, right before we are supposed to check in for a daily meeting at 7:10am, lol. And on weekends or days off I normally don’t sleep past 10.   141. Do you edit your profile pictures before posting them? A little. I brighten up my face and smooth it out. Sue me.  142. Be 100% honest. Do you have any friends who are uglier than you? All my friends are beautiful in their own ways.  143. Do you believe in love? Yes.  144. Would you consider yourself a good student? Didn’t you ask this? 145. Does it bother you when Surveys ask “Did you like this survey?” It just seems kinda pointless cause they likely won’t see it. 146. Salty, Sweet, Sour or Spicy? Yes.  147. Are you going into High School this year? Nooooo. Thank goodness. I did my time and graduated over 10 years ago. 148. What about Junior High? Omg, no. I’m old. 149. What is one thing someone could say to you right now that would make you cry? Ugh, anything.  150. Where did you find this note? @lovemesomesurveys 151. Last question. How many unread messages are in your phone? None.