#Sorry this is just a rant about my native language...

[doodles-bi-tea]

radio ga ga

Mickey’s a bit of a fanboy. Paparazzi is too.

pairing: lt. mickey “fanboy” garcia x fellow wso reader [second person, no y/n – callsign: paparazzi]

warnings: probably inaccurate pilot/in-sky jargon, profanity, alcohol consumption, no beta / real editing, ambiguous ending…

word count: 1,974

a/n: I thought my overly-top-gun-obsessed days were long behind me (in the days of 2022/2023) but one of my two film classes said “NO! go back to hyperfixating on lewis pullman and danny ramirez in the midst of your james mcavoy obsession.” and here we are, folks.

[good god I went through a whole tizzy trying to figure out what exactly I wanted the reader’s callsign to be. “paparazzi?” no, that’s plural! “paparazzo?” grammatically correct, but solely masculine. “paparazza?” feminine-aligning in the native language but not everyone is solely feminine (myself included). I gave up and just went with the grammatically incorrect “paparazzi” because then it doesn’t have to be a gender thing – I already have enough trouble figuring out what gender I am, I don’t need this to send me down another rabbit hole. ... ANYWAY that was my little rant about the callsign. I have a whole list, because, let’s face it: are you really a top gun fan if you’ve never thought about what your own callsign might be?]

4/14/25 update: UM as of posting this, this was actually started a really long time ago and I kinda gave up on the ending so either it’s bittersweet and ends here or I can write a part two if anyone really wants it lmao… but i’m back to obsessing over romance games and mythic quest again so that’s a thing! I literally just finished my s1-s3 rewatch and started s4 right before I saw jessie ennis' story about how it got cancelled bro 💔💔

˚⋆࿔༄ᯓ ✈︎

ᯓ ✈︎｡༘⭒

“Comms check. This is Paparazzi, filling in for Harvard, behind Yale. Yale, Fanboy, Payback, do you copy? Over.”

“Payback here, I can hear you loud and clear. Over.”

“Yale reporting for duty. Over.”

There’s a pause.

[paparazzi] ���Fanboy, do you copy?”

[fanboy] “No, Paparazzi, I do not copy.”

[paparazzi] “Payback, tell Fanboy to check his comms.”

[fanboy] “Checking ‘em right now.”

[payback] “Fanboy, you can’t hear us?”

[fanboy] “Nope.”

Another pause.

[paparazzi] “He’s fucking with us, isn’t he?”

[payback] “...Yeah.”

You turn your head to the left to look at Payback and Fanboy’s F/A-18, flying parallel to your and Yale’s own aircraft. He’s already looking back at you.

“Sorry, Paparazzi. The opportunity was too good to pass up.” Fanboy’s laugh crackles over the radio as you flip him the bird.

˚⋆࿔༄ᯓ ✈︎

ᯓ ✈︎｡༘⭒

“What a gentleman.” You scoff, knocking your knuckles on the back of Mickey’s blue-streaked helmet.

He clearly wasn’t expecting it from the way his neck gives way at the contact. You two walk side by side on the tarmac after the exercise with Reuben [Payback] and Logan [Yale].

“I hadn’t realized this conversation was suddenly about Bob.” He chuckles, before trying to knock your own helmet out of your hands by smacking it.

Your grip falters slightly but instead moves the helmet to rest against the side of your stomach furthest from Mickey.

“My tone would be different if it were actually about Bob. Not that I expect you to know the difference between jokes and seriousness.”

“I do, too! You play too much.” He says dismissively, as if actually offended at your comment.

˚⋆࿔༄ᯓ ✈︎

ᯓ ✈︎｡༘⭒

“I play too much? Are you hearing yourself right now?” You laugh incredulously into your mask.

Fanboy’s F-35 flies somewhere slightly behind yours. You, Bob, Halo, and he are engaged in a pretty routine individual speed drill. Being WSO’s, you don’t get as much flying time as your respective partners, but still need the practice just as much.

“No, actually, I can’t. It’s pretty hard, since, we’re, you know, in planes right now?”

You roll your eyes behind your tinted visor – not like he can see it anyway.

“Break right!” Bob’s voice rings clear over the radio.

You see him, at the front of the line, start to turn, soon followed by Halo, who flies directly in front of you. Your gloved hands move along the plane’s controls to follow the two of them.

“Leaving me on heard? Real cool of you, Pap.”

Beneath your mask, your lips press themselves into a thin line. You bite your tongue for the time being, knowing you all need to finish the drill on time or Mav (and Hangman) would be on your asses about it. Fanboy’s taunts can wait.

“Break left!” Bob instructs. “We need to speed up a little, guys. Increase after the turn.”

All four of you follow suit. Turning left, then pushing the thrusters. Pulling G’s makes your body ache a little, your head feel like it’s under a weighted blanket (not in a good way!), and your stomach turn ever-so-slightly. Your mind goes blank, thoughts drowned out by the engines’ rumbling.

“Mark!” Halo calls, breaking you out of your trance. “We got two minutes, forty-seven seconds. Better than last time.”

The four of you slow and align into a horizontal line rather than a vertical one, now flying side by side.

“Good run, guys.” Bob says into the radio.

You can’t see his face, but you can tell he’s smiling when he says it.

˚⋆࿔༄ᯓ ✈︎

ᯓ ✈︎｡༘⭒

You’re packing up your duffel bag in the common room, waving goodbye to Cassie [Halo] as she leaves, when Mickey exits the mens’ lockers and enters the room. You try ignoring him at first, but he initiates conversation regardless.

“What happened up there, Pap? Did pulling G’s fog your brain up so much you couldn’t come up with a decent response?” He sets his own bag down on the pool table as he folds one of his shirts.

“Stop saying ‘Pap’ like it’s a good nickname.”

“Doesn’t mean anything bad.”

“It sounds like a… fuckin’ pap smear or something.”

“That…” He tucks the shirt into his bag. “Oh.”

You roll your eyes for the “who-knows-how-many”-th time of the day and harshly zip your bag closed. The heels of your shoes resounded muffled clicks on the carpet as you went to leave.

“Hey, wait, I, uh, I know I’ve been particularly annoying today,” Mickey stutters over his words as he throws his bag over his shoulder and runs to catch up. “But do you wanna go to The Hard Deck?”

“So you’re aware of it?” You scoff, continuing to walk towards the door – click clack, click clack.

He chuckles sheepishly, now walking at your side. “Maybe a little. But really, you wanna come with me?”

“And why should I?”

“Because… Uh…”

You hum hesitantly. He hums eagerly back. There’s a moment of silence before he breaks.

“I’ll pay?”

The footfalls finally stop as you both reach the door.

˚⋆࿔༄ᯓ ✈︎

ᯓ ✈︎｡༘⭒

And that’s how you end up four beers deep at The Hard Deck, sitting across from Mickey at a small table on the outside patio overlooking the beach. The sun’s gone down a long time ago, the brisk, salty air is chilling the tips of your nose and fingertips, and your beer bottles are empty. You and Mickey sit in a quiet, slightly-drunk stupor together. Looking at the ocean together only furthers the warm feeling that pools in your stomach from all the alcohol.

“I’m gonna go pay now, be right back,” Mickey’s words slur together slightly as he stands up and takes his wallet out of his pocket.

You hum in acknowledgement and slump down, arms folded over the table and head resting on top. The door opens, then shuts, as you hear Mickey go inside. The cold air prompts you to close your eyes – for just a second. Or, at least, what feels like a second.

When you open them, you’re met with Mickey’s curious and playful gaze. His face is still relatively far away from yours but you make eye contact because he’s leaned down to look at you. It’s almost as if you’ve grazed hands or held onto an embrace for too long. He smiles, in a surprisingly meek fashion, before gently nudging your arm.

“Wake up, soñolienta.” [“Wake up, sleepy.”]

You hum, before sitting up. The beer bottles are all cleared from the table and the bar is mostly empty, like the patio had always been. Penny stands behind the bar, wiping the counter. Jimmy sits across from a young man at a table on the side, talking while drying now-clean glasses. A few random customers are dispersed around the edges of the room but whatever party had been in the room earlier was clearly over.

“Thanks, Mick.”

“No problem,” he responds softly before going back to sit down in his chair on the opposite side of the table.

There’s a comfortable pause.

You rest your chin on your hands. “You’re actually kinda nice when you choose to stop being so damn annoying.”

“You too.”

You both laugh, another bout of warm silence – contrasting the chill of the sea air – following soon after. Your eyes lazily trace the surroundings. Where the sky meets the sea; Where the sea meets the sand; Where the sand meets the patio. The sand bleeds onto the sun-bleached wood. The patio meets the rest of the building, its sliding-glass doors, and the warm-toned LED globe lights that are suspended on the overhang (you and Bob had gotten into a pretty interesting conversation about lights with Penny, the two of you eventually convincing her to buy LEDs instead of using the old incandescent bulbs she previously used). The few speakers that are attached to the underside of the roof’s overhang play some random radio station. The tune doesn’t sound familiar, until the first song ends and a new one starts.

“Hey, I like this song,” You mumble absentmindedly.

Mickey perks up upon your mention of the music – he pauses to listen with you.

“Is this Djo?”

A surprised smile sneaks its way onto your lips.

“You know Djo?”

“Duh,” He teases. “Who doesn’t?”

“I’m just surprised. I don’t know what kind of music you listen to, besides the stuff you post on your Instagram stories,” You chuckle. “Which is mostly rap or really random hype music.” [shoutout to the danny ramirez instagram follower gang, his stories make me giggle bc he’s just such a boy and always posting about the miami canes and random selfies and stuff – I feel like a lot of danny’s personality bleeds into his characters (joaquin torres especially) so I tied this in with mickey…]

“I gotta keep up appearances, you know? Can’t be posting random pop and alt when people want the manly…” He motions around aimlessly with his hands while he looks for the words. “Hype stuff. I don’t know.”

“Sounds to me like you just don’t want to admit you have any semblance of decent music taste.”

“That is not true.”

“You’re a dork.”

“Says you, dork.”

“I can tell a lot of thought went into that. Great comeback.”

“Too bad you couldn’t come up with one when we were in the air.” He raises his eyebrows and cocks his head slightly in your direction with a toothy grin.

“Whatever. Just let me enjoy the radio in peace.”

Another eye roll added to the count. And yet, you can’t help the slight upturn of your lips as you look away in an attempt to seem aloof – key word being ‘attempt;’ it doesn’t work.

“I actually really like ‘Go for It,’” Mickey suddenly says.

His admission is another pleasant surprise.

“Damn, maybe you are a real fan.”

“It’s all in the name, sweetheart.”

You try to ignore the way your heart leaps into your throat at the nickname, a slightly flustered scoff working its way past your lips. The beer still sits in your stomach, but instead of providing warmth, it now feels stagnant. You glance over at Mickey as he checks his phone for a moment.

Was he always this cute? Or is it just the way he stands out against the night sky under the yellowing light? The way the outer edges of his eyes are threatening to press together as a content smile sits on his closed lips? It could just be the fact that his mouth is closed, for all you know. You don’t know, but it’s making you rethink everything. It’s… not a great feeling.

He must notice your smile drop as you space out, staring blankly in his direction, because he turns his phone off and looks back at you.

“You okay, Pap?”

Shaken from your daze, your jaw goes slack for a moment before you press your lips together and turn away. Your ears barely register the nickname.

“Oh, yeah, sorry, just… thinking.”

Mickey quirks an eyebrow. “About what?”

“You.” Is what you want to say.

The name of the song he mentioned seems to mock you. ‘Go for It?’ Yeah, right. You’d settle for biting your tongue instead of dying of embarrassment right here on the beach.

“Just work stuff,” You shrug it off – it’s technically not a lie if you’re thinking about your co-worker.

Mickey hums in understanding. “I get that. I feel like work follows me off-base, home, more often than I’d like.”

You glance back at him now. His face is to the ocean, so you only see his side profile, similar to when he was on his phone. Any semblance of the smile he usually wears is completely gone. His sobriety is… sobering, to say the least. It’s not often he drops the jokester persona. It almost tugs at your heartstrings a little bit.

“You wanna talk about it?” You tread lightly.

Mickey pauses. “Nah, it’s okay. Just tired right now, I think. Just… ‘work stuff.’”

You both chuckle halfheartedly at that. The sea air grows stale as the silence grows.

“I should, uh, get home,” He suddenly clears his throat and throws his hoodie on.

A sense of panic arises in you as he finishes tugging the grey material down his torso. Say something or let him leave.

Say something? Or let him leave?

[haruka-636]

Now that I have some free time again, I've started reading GITM au!! YAYYY!! “ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ💖✨️💖✨️ When I'm reading it, I still can't decide whether to read "I" as "私", "俺", or "僕"

[sightseertrespasser]

Odds of Survival apart 7

Welcome aboard the Lost Light! Where nothing stressful ever happens.

Working back into longer chapters. Credit to @keferon for creating the AU. Enjoy!

———————————————————————

Spaceship spaceship spaceship that is a mother fucking spaceship.

Somewhere within the poor rattled jelly of his brain, eight year old Jazz was screaming and jumping and slapping his adult self’s shoulder to start doing the happy dance.

Instead, he reached out a hand to clasp Prowls shoulder. “Hoooly shit!”

Music.

He needed music. The Superman theme? No. Interstellar? Nah, something more energetic. Star Wars? Closer. Jurassic Park? Yes.

As Jazz began playing the introductory notes to the Jurassic Park theme, he had the presence of mind to take a screen capture to show Hot Rod later. Jazz was mech-crazy but Roddy was all about spaceships and this was something straight out of a comic book brought to life.

The Lost Light, as best Jazz could translate, was a thing of beauty. Mango sherbet sunlight spilling over the horizon painted the ships white exterior peach and cream. It had these spine? Thingy’s? Rising from the back. Jazz had no idea what for but they looked awesome. Massive thrusters slowed its decent onto the moons surface, kicking up enough glittery dust to make everything around it sparkle like a goddamn anime filter.

Bluestreak was saying something in his native language again. Clearly shocked and ranting at his brother.

“Blue, if you’re gonna talk about someone in the room, it’s polite to do it in a language they understand. Ya know? ‘Specially so they don’t make any assumptions when they hear Prowl, Jazz, and Frag in that order.” He inclined his head towards the mecha in question but didn’t look away from the ship.

“I am so sorry!” Jazz gave it fifty-fifty he was also talking to Prowl.

“It was just! You grabbed Prowl and trust me no one actually gets away with that if he does not want to be touched by someone. Which is almost everyone. I mean, even {Smokey} and I can only get away with it on a good day. Or if I blackmail him about the time he blew me up. Even then we’ve known each other for vorns and he met you like a cycle ago?! And I’m also kinda loosing my mind right now because you are SO weird and oh Primus I didn’t mean to call you that, you’re a really cool mech I just think you’ve got a really messed up home life and that just sounds like another insult doesn’t it? Did I tell you I talk a lot when I’m nervous because I talk a lot normally so you’d think I’m nervous all the time but really I’m not nervous all the time it’s just that when I actually get nervous I really really start talking a lot and are you flirting with Prowl because I think you’re flirting with Prowl even though he said you weren’t but I think he’s just in denial since he keeps letting you do stuff like touching him without warning.”

“BLUESTREAK.” Prowl ground out a shout through clenched teeth.

The sniper snapped a hand over his mouth. Eyes wide and wings pinned low. In stark contrast to Prowl, who had his own wings flared high and wide. Both brothers were wide eyed in utter mortification.

“Go.” He paused, lightly removing Jazz’s hand. “Go to the ship. That is an order.”

Bluestreak skedaddled, keeping one hand firmly over his mouth and giving a firm thumbs up with the other.

Jazz knew there was no way that would actually stop him from talking, but he really appreciated it when a pilot could commit to the bit. He snort chuckled.

“I apologize greatly on behalf of my brother. He meant no offense. And please disregard anything he might have..” Prowl looked like he wanted to cough discreetly. “Implied.”

They walked together towards the airlock outside. Waiting for Bluestreak to exit before they could go next.

“Do you mean when he implied I have a slaggy home life or the bit about you liking me?”

He watched Prowls face twitch a bit. He was standing military inspection straight, hands tightly clasped behind his back and pointedly not looking at Jazz.

“Cause I wasn’t flirting on purpose.” Prowl did not break eye contact with the wall, but Jazz caught his wings dip imperceptibly.

“When I grabbed your shoulder.” Jazz hummed.

Ope. Made ya look.

Prowl glanced back to the wall, before apparently deciding there wasn’t much point in ignoring Jazz. Smart man.

He turned more fully back to Jazz, face focused but a hint more open then before.

“Slaggy isn’t really a- that’s not how the grammar is used for-“ Prowl rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Jazz, do like how you are treated where you are from?”

Oh, well shit. He silenced the movie soundtrack, thinking. Felt the horns pin back.

“When you joined your group, how much did it hurt?”

Prowl didn’t immediately respond. Considering his question for a long breath.

When he finally spoke, it was quieter than before. “Pain is relative, and I believe certain aspects of the process are idiotic and pointless, but to try and answer your question; it hurt less than what it was worth.”

Jazz watched the lights cycle on the door as it re-pressurized.

“Same.”

They stood together before the way out.

“Though, from the looks of it, you guys are in much better shape than us. I kinda thought we were the best of the best. But I’m starting to think there’s a lot they weren’t telling us.”

The airlock hissed open, and the two stepped inside.

“You can stay. If you choose.” Prowl shuffled back into a parade rest, hiding behind formality. “You do not have to go back to those people.”

Jazz smiled deep within his mech, and lightly bumped his unwitting guide to the galaxy. “Prowler! Really now, flirting at a time like this? How unprofessional.”

Goddamn it was mean, but holy hell it was just too much fun to fluster a man like Prowl.

“You are completely insufferable.” Points to Bluestreak, when Jazz asked him for a bunch of keywords Prowl would probably use, unprofessional and insufferable were some of the first he taught him.

“I am trying to help you. I have been trying to help you this entire time and you have constantly managed to find entirely new ways of making my head hurt.” Prowl had finally dropped the act and was waving his arms emphatically.

“M’kay.” Jazz nodded along. “Would you like my number?”

Prowl made a face like he was mentally blue-screening again. “I… Yes. Yes that would actually be very helpful.”

“I’m happy to help!” And Jazz rattled off his personal phone number for the burner cell he wasn’t necessarily supposed to have.

“Thank you?” Prowl said with an entirely new flavor of confusion. “Jazz what is-“ Prowl was cut off by the airlock’s depressurization.

He could not wait to get that man to a rec room. His mecha was built shorter than Jazz’s, but he had this weird total confidence that Prowl was somehow taller than him.

Jazz stepped out onto the moons surface, letting the last notes to the Jurassic Park theme finally play out, stopping briefly to once again admire the insanity of the situation. He liked to focus on the good when it was front and center, because he had a pretty clear idea of how bad the bad could be.

A dull stone of dread settled in his stomach.

Disconnecting was gonna suck. Pretty sure he didn’t have a full blown concussion at least. Hard to tell with the drift link suppressing most of the “oh fuck ow stop that” signals his body was almost certainly sending him. He felt basically fine though, so he could get away with pushing it back just a little further.

Probably.

The medics here didn’t know his rep either, so even on an unfamiliar base, Jazz gave it two minutes max before he’d be in their walls.

Prowl appeared in his peripheral vision and motioned for Jazz to follow.

The closer they got to the Lost Light, the more the feelings of Awe transitioned into Vertigo. This thing was fucking massive up close. Upon reaching the outer airlock door, Jazz found he couldn’t touch the molding at the top. Maybe if he climbed onto Prowls shoulders though?

Before he could poke that particular bear, the door opened and Jazz was ushered in. As soon as the atmosphere returned, Prowl was on his case.

“Jazz it is of the utmost importance that you behave yourself. I will handle your introduction to my immediate superior. Please refrain from any overly familiar behavior.” Prowl wasn’t doing the no eye contact-parade rest pose but actually looking at him properly.

“Don’t embarrass you in front of your boss, I got you boo.” He clapped Prowl on the shoulder for emphasis and watched his wing things do a little dance.

Oh those things definitely got hard wired into his neural net by accident didn’t they? Wonder how he deals with the phantom limb syndrome.

Jazz himself walked like a, quote “new born deer that just took a shot of fireball” per Rico, every time he disconnected from his mecha after too long.

“Please refrain from touching me until further notice.” Prowl tacked on as the doors slid open.

—————

Something was off.

It started in the hallway but the sensation didn’t fade. Like when you get home and vaguely smelled something had gone bad, but it was so faint you could barely remember it was there. So you search the fridge, the trash, yadda yadda yadda because you know it’s there. Even if you’ve gotten used to the smell and can only imagine what’s wrong based off of a poorly informed memory of the thing.

The interior of the ship looked off. But in a way he just couldn’t put his finger on.

Jazz was vaguely aware he’d been getting a little loopier ever since him and Prowl went tumbling down Crash Mountain.

Truth be told, he’s been off his game ever since Prowl found him.

Shit, how long had he been piloting actually?

Let’s see.

He woke up this morning on the mecha program space station, got to piloting, ran maybe a couple hours of tests? Then space tore itself a new one, Jazz tore that alien a new one, got teleported, scared the fuck out of Tentacle Monster Mission Control, got teleported again for much longer, passed out, woke up, spent the better part of a day traveling with Prowl and oh fuck me I haven’t eaten or drunk anything in at least 14 hours.

Now that he was thinking about it, the dull ache in his skull felt more like dehydration than blunt force trauma.

Wait. No. Concentrate.

Something about this place was off. It wasn’t just in his head. He just needed to focus for more than - woah that’s a lot of mecha.

Mechanical forms hurried along massive hallways. Vehicles abounded as well and Jazz had to make and effort not to trip on any. Prowl had gotten a hold of his arm at some point and was half supporting half guiding Jazz through the hall.

“You said no touching.” Jazz crooned in a singsong voice.

“You’re going to fall on someone.” Prowl was making a face that had every passing mecha pointedly not make eye contact.

“Am not.” And Jazz went a little limp just to fuck with him.

Prowl left little space for Jazz to wander or wonder. He’d catch a glimpse of a rooms interior or another fantastic mecha only to be pulled along before his gaze could linger.

Jesus this place was huge. And detailed. Lots of GNDN lookin’ pipes, wires and greebles across every surface. After what felt like walking through every spaceship movie set at once, Prowl pulled him into a room with red cross markings on the doors.

Inside, the room hosted a number of high tech (pillowed?) tables and a truly ridiculous number of tools. Half of them looked suited for body shop work, welders and wrenches and the like. While the other half resembled supersized computer repair kits.

Why is everything huge? They don’t. They don’t seriously have the pilots handle the repairs while in their mecha do they?

Sure Prowl did some basic repair stuff earlier, but that was mid battle support. It made sense.

Speak of the distracting devil, Prowl was addressing somebody while Jazz was ogling a 30ft tall filing cabinet.

Two mecha were at the other end of the room.

One was teal and standing, tapping away at a super-sized tablet. They had a face -something is off- that turned to them warmly, taking in their battered mecha.

The other one was neon alien blood green. Sat on a table, they were wiping their face off with a cloth, revealing a hot pink paint job. Their other hand rested on a severed and charred alien head missing most of the fleshy bits. They tossed the cloth in a bin and locked onto Jazz with a face that promised fucking death.

Hot Pink said something formal and clipped in Prowls native language. Standing from the table and casually swinging the skull in one hand.

“Elita One,” Prowl dipped his head and wings. “This is Jazz. He has significant experience in batting quintesson forces. I have seen his capabilities firsthand and they are highly impressive. Currently, he is in need of medical treatment.”

The bloody one, Elita One, stalked up to Jazz. Raking over him with a critical eye. The pilot got a tingly sense of deja vu, like he got pushed back in time to when he first applied to the mecha program.

The lights hummed at a B flat pitch.

Onslaught, one of the first pilots and one of the few to live to retirement stood like a demon guarding the gates to Hell.

Jazz straightened up, squaring his shoulders.

“Sir, Striker one zero six one, {Pacific} Rim Defense, Callsign: Jazz, sir.”

Elita paused in her circling, however briefly, before returning to face him and Prowl once more.

“At ease.” She considered Jazz for only a moment longer, something like curiosity flickering before turning to Prowl, “Officer, I expect a full report from you on the bridge. Jazz is to not go anywhere on this ship without accompaniment. And I expect you to justify this situation to Red Alert.”

If Jazz hadn’t specifically been watching for it, anyone else would have missed the ever so slight way Prowl cringed at the order.

“Yes Captain. I volunteer to keep watch of Jazz and assume responsibility until a shift change can be approved.” D’awww. The machine has a heart.

“Request granted. Now, you have until I finish cleaning this skull to take care of any personal matters.” Elita hefted the thing for emphasis.

She locked onto Jazz once more, “Velocity will see to your injuries. You will comply with whatever treatment she deems appropriate. If you cause harm to her or any other member of my crew, I will rip off what’s left of your arm and beat you to death with it. Otherwise, remain here until Prowl comes to collect you. Is all that understood?”

I’m sorry can you repeat that middle bit? You said it so casually and in the same tone as everything else that I kinda blanked for a sec.

Instead, Jazz said, “Yes sir.”

Velocity stepped up, -their medic is a pilot- “If you’ll follow me, I can get you situated on the medical {berth} over here.”

Velocity paused as she was about to leave, like she’d just heard something. She turned and nodded to Prowl who returned the gesture, releasing Jazz in the process.

Velocity clasped her hands together and spoke to Jazz.

“I understand you might have a, ah, unique medical history. Would you be able to discuss any of that with me so I can better treat your injuries?”

Jazz hesitated.

Something is off.

“A moment in private, if you both would allow.” Prowl looked between the two other mecha. Elita was pretty much out the door and Velocity graciously left to gather the needed supplies. Prowl came closer to speak quietly.

“Jazz. You said some concerning things before regarding your previous experiences with medical treatment. Can you handle allowing Velocity to treat you?” He was doing the serious face again, one hand resting on Jazz’s working shoulder.

“Yeah. I mean, worst case scenario and I start freaking out you’ve got my permission to use force.” Prowls eyes got very wide at that.

“Which I won’t! I won’t!” He held up a hand placatingly. “I’m…not great with doctors, but it’s less the medical stuff itself and more..” Jazz made a so-so gesture.

“Feeling trapped?” He felt his horns pin down again.

Before he left the program, Ratchet had a whole system worked out. He did as much light treatment as he could with Jazz in public places like the cafeteria or in his apartment. Usually bringing in someone trusted like Rico around to distract and talk to him while Ratchet worked.

For full on surgery though, there wasn’t a lot of alternatives to turn to. White lights, white walls, dark shadows. The actual operating theater was the only option.

Ratchet, to his credit, never used restraints, which was usually enough to avoid triggering an episode if he worked fast. As far as drugs went, Jazz had a twighlight stage between Fully Conscious and Out Cold called Fuck Where’d He Go that no one enjoyed playing.

He sighed.

“Look, I’m not hurt that bad. Just..” Jazz rubbed the back of his mechas head out of habit, “Give me a dim room and something cold for my head and I’ll be fine after I get something to drink.”

Prowl furrowed his brow, “Jazz, one of your arms is non functional. I implore you to let us help. You are concerned with feeling trapped, yes? If the door out of the room is left open, would that alleviate some of your fears?”

His visor twitched towards Prowl. Jazz stood very, very still.

Focus. Something is off. Focus.

“Yeah. I… I don’t want to be strapped down either. Or put to sleep.” Jazz focused on Prowl’s face. His mecha that had a face. The face that Prowl could chose not to use but is. Prowl looked like he was actively having to school his expression.

“No restraints. No sedatives. I will comm Velocity your requests and you may reiterate them at any time.” He let go of Jazz, who stepped back slightly.

Jazz watched him from within his mecha, only showing what he wanted to show. Prowl was watching him just as closely, but couldn’t hide that he was. Why can’t he hide it?

Something is off.

“Got it Prowler. See you soon!” Jazz left him with a cheery wave.

He needed to get his head on straight. It was starting to feel like he was high or something with the way everyone was talking about his mecha. There was the language barrier sure, but it didn’t account for whatever visual weirdness that was tickling his sense of uncanny valley.

With the specter of possible legitimate brain damage haunting his steps, Jazz walked towards where Velocity had gone, knocking on the doorway to get her attention. “Ready to go when you are doc.”

Velocity, who Jazz caught peeking around the corner during his little heart to heart with Prowl, at least had the gumption to not even pretend she wasn’t eavesdropping. He could at least appreciate when a doctor was honest about their bad habits.

“Right this way. I’ll be leaving just the interior door open for the sake of privacy if that’s alright. Prowl also noted you did not have a negative reaction to localized {anesthetic}.” She gestured to the chrome duct tape still on his shoulder.

Velocity led them back into the room with all the tables and the huge central computer terminal. “Lay down here, and I’ll get started. I’ll talk you through every step of what I’ll be doing.”

Jazz walked up to the table, and stared.

And stared.

“Uh.” He circled around the mecha cradle table thing. “How do I get down?”

Horizontal style cradles were a thing in like, New Zealand? But for the life of him Jazz couldn’t see where he was supposed to go.

Velocity raised an eyebrow. Speaking slowly she gestured to the table, “You sit in the middle, and then turn 90 degrees to set your upper and lower body on the berth. Laying down.”

Jazz looked between her and the “berth”, his brain skirting the very edge of the sink drain.

“Right, but after that is there a ladder or something? Do stairs pop out? Or are you actually going to lift me out of here?” Jazz squatted down, inspecting for some kind or catch or compartment or..

Or..

Something was off because there weren’t any.

Jazz felt every hair stand up on his body.

His brain fell down the drain.

He stood.

Carefully.

Nothing on this ship has been built to human proportions. Nothing.

“Jazz? Are you alright?”

The human turned to the giant robot.

“Hmm? I’m fine.” He hopped onto the berth with ease, looking relaxed. “Still learning Common. Just a little confused was all.”

Velocity blinked, “Oh well that’s understandable. It’s designed for communicating with organic alien life forms so the terminology can be a little strange sometimes.”

“Hah. Right.” Jazz stared at the ceiling.

Every drop of his blood was cold.

“Aliens.”

———————————————————————

It is truly a Jazz fic if he isn’t lying for his life and bouncing off the walls like a squirrel in a plastic bucket?

Next time, Prowl has a completely relaxing chapter all about petting Green. Yep.

Definitely.

- SSTP

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

IDK if that “neutral” Malleus anon is still checking out your blog but even if they aren’t I wanna say it’s not cool of them to send that rant in. Them being so angry makes me think they are actually a Malleus fan because why would you be so mad if you really were neutral about him. Acting like that to one of the most moderate dragon dislikers I know of is why Malleus fans have a bad name.

[Referencing this post!]

Well, I admit that I also found it odd that someone claiming to be neutral about a character would also get so worked up about said character... but I don't know Anon, so I'd rather not make assumptions about them if I can help it. Regardless of how they personally feel about Malleus, the fact remains that they felt strongly enough about my opinions that they were motivated to send in what was swirling around in their mind. The ask started off polite, but then became hostile despite prefacing with "don't take the following as an attack on you" and "I tried to be as respectful as possible" 💦 You don't really think clearly or act like yourself when you're letting your emotions rule you, so I wonder if their emotions just got the better of them once they started typing and then their ask sort of... spiraled from there. ahlbbbayvaqwevuqwoyve Thank you for the title of Most Moderate Dragon Disliker/j 😭 I feel like fandoms throw around the word "hate" too easily these days, so if I have to say I don't like something, I'll opt for "dislike" instead. "Hate" always sounds so harsh and unrelenting (ie "this can NEVER be better"), and that's worlds apart from "critique" (ie "how can this be better?"), the latter being what I actually aim for. I won't blindly hate on a character, I'll stop and ask myself why is it that I don't like them and how could they improve. I don't understand how it is that hate and critique are so commonly conflated... Anyway, shoutout to the sane folks that don't get their panties in a twist when others express a different opinion than them OTL and I am so, so sorry that Malleus likers have a loud minority making y’all look bad…

As I said in my response to the other ask in this post, I don't want to make assumptions about Anon or their life. However 💦 I will confess that I was very surprised by those parts of the ask. At first, I thought Anon was mentioning they speak Japanese and Korean because non-native English speakers will usually preface with something like this to warn me of potentially strange wording or typos. But then this particular ask (despite its length) ended up being in perfect English??? So I wondered why they mentioned their languages to begin with. They did say "Here in Japan", which seems to imply they do live there + speak the language but... again, I find it sort of strange to bring those up without making it very relevant?? If it was intended to lend them more credibility, I thought they would share more about the JP fandom or discuss particular polls more in-depth. (That would have been really interesting, actually!)

My surprise wasn't at the lack of information though, it was at the tone taken and the words used. It may be a little difficult for English-only speakers to understand, but 💦 the way Anon wrote didn't read very "Japanese" to me. Certain phrases (like lo and behold), slang (like LMAO), and even the cadence feel more western than Japanese. These, I guess, could be attributed to code switching (switching languages)?? Sometimes there would be overlap between the two (in this case, English and Japanese)--but more importantly, the overall tone of the ask was extremely confrontational. That was honestly the biggest "huh" for me. Not a single Japanese person I know speaks so aggressively, even when they are caught up in their emotions.

Again, I want to be clear that I'm not accusing Anon of anything, I'm only expressing my shock at the lack of... I guess manners in the ask (even though they said they intended to be respectful)??? When maintaining decorum and staying in one's lane are stressed so much in JP fandoms, especially when interacting with other fans. Anon's ask was like the total opposite of what I'm used to seeing from JP fans ^^;;

I think people tend forget that how you express yourself is just as important as choosing to express yourself in the first place? If you come at someone sounding angry and defensive from the get-go, the person you're trying to engage with will be much less willing to hear you out 💦

I don't really care if they (or others) see Malleus a certain way! It only becomes a problem when they start confronting other people with it (which, unfortunately, happened). And no need to apologize for other people's actions!! You didn't do anything wrong here. I do appreciate the sentiment though!! 🫶

I don't get why some people get so upset at different opinions existing?? (I don't think I even express my opinion in a hateful manner, which is what I believe Anon was accusing me of.) 😔 It's different opinions that make discussions with other fans interesting (and, in Twst itself, it's different opinions that cause conflicts to arise and make up the story that we enjoy). A world without different opinions would surely be a dull one. That specific Anon for sure has to learn how to better contain their anger. I hope that they realize that acting as they did only 1) makes Malleus likers (or I guess "Malleus neutral" fans, as they claim they are) in general look terrible, because even if the majority of them don't act this way, it's the worst experiences that will stick out the most in people's minds and 2) Malleus Draconia is not real and will not personally thank them for crusading for him. This certainly does not help my opinion of him, because this isn't my first time being harassed by someone associated with Malleus. I just do not get what people think they get out of acting this way??? Does it make them feel... satisfied after they rant at an internet stranger??? Make them think they achieved something?? 😅 There are surely more productive methods of catharsis than this... Maybe talking it over with a friend, double checking their phrasing + tone before sending in that ask, waiting until their emotions aren't running as high, even blocking or scrolling on would have been better.

I don't really know anything about Bakugo (other than he's really angy and people like him a lot??) but I find it really funny that his + Crewel's birthday is 4/20 blaze it 😶

[yawujin]

sorry to bother you but just a thought

imagine England , France , America and Russia with a reader who likes to read and LOVES their countries literature and poetry, like, they often catch them on the floor kicking their feet reading their countries classics

maybe even askes them to read a copy in it's native language to her while their cuddling

(just imagine America reading 'the adventures of huckleberry finn' , England reading 'wuthering heights' , France reading some famous french love poems and Russia reading 'anna karenina' in it's native language while cuddling with reader) <3

my book worm heart NEEDS some fluff-

your writing is amazing btw, been here a long time and your posts a comfort, seriously keep your head up , your amazing and beautiful !

love you and your blog

it's not a bother at all!! i think it's a very cute, sweet idea. i used to read books in danish to my ex all the time and it was a lot of fun. he really loved it, as did i :p i really appreciate the encouragement 🤍 i'm really hoping that one day, far farrr in the future, the books i am planning on publishing will be considered "classics" i can't wait :) without further ado, here is your request anon. thank you! and enjoy 🪄✨️

{ request } england , france , america & russia x bookworm! reader

type | cute , fluff , light hearted , russia needs a nap , short read

england ♥︎

his favorite place is home , so he really does not mind at all that they would prefer to just stay in to enjoy each other's company

england could read his novels for hours at a time, focused with no background noise save for the tick-tock sound of the clock. that sound gradually fades as he begins to read aloud.

the two quickly become invested in the story─doesn't matter if it's pride and prejudice by jane austen or one of the very many stories of sherlock holmes by sir arthur conan doyle

england has a really clear, crisp, and modulated voice that would be great for narration tbh.....*clears throat* audiobook is hiring

france ♥︎

france has a sense for beautiful things and there is nothing more beautiful than hearing them read the stranger by albert camus back to him. he really just likes seeing them enjoy books written by people from his country

he once purchased a really pretty bookmark for them, just because he thought perhaps they would like it ? <3

most likely to join a bookclub with them

ask him to read love poems and he will─one after another, until they're content

america ♥︎

might want them to just lay down next to him (or on his lap) (OR vice versa) while he reads.

he is more than happy to carry their books for them when they go to the library/bookstore together

if he finds them reading any classic american literature, he'll get really happy and start asking them: "did you get to the good part yet?" "how're you liking it?" "do you have a favorite character?" he just wants to know all the details

the type to watch the movie adaptation of a book with them so they can compare, just for fun

russia ♥︎

he'll read whatever they ask him to read. after doing it for a prolonged period of time, he'll begin to feel sleepy and rest. i imagine him being the type to feel punchy after reading all those small words on a page

would most likely gift them his copy of the idiot by fyodor dostoevsky

he likes to listen to them go on little rants about any one of the books they had started recently, all while reading the summaries on the back of the books

his favorite thing is when they start to play with his hair as he reads to them....no wonder he feels so sleepy afterwards (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

[rckspeaks]

Вечно можно смотреть на три вещи: как течет вода, как горит огонь и как ру фэндом кр плачет

Аввввв гетеро ущемляют 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 бедняжки😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 как мне их жаль😭😭😭😭😭

Вы издеваетесь нахуй? Вам просто дали 2+2, а не 3/1 и вы уже плачете. Прикиньте как охуенно было тем, кто исключительно жлл вел? Выбор из нихуя

Как вы меня все нахуй заебали всем селом (тиктоком)

Вы не поверите все комменты выглядят вот так (видос был о том же):

Eng tr of my rant that is way less expressive because Russian language is my native one:

There are three things you can watch forever: fire, water, and how Russian rc fandom is crying

Awwwwwwww straight people are getting discriminated against 😭😭😭😭 poor things😭😭😭😭i feel so sorry for them😭😭😭😭

Are you fucking kidding me? You just got 2+2 instead of 3+1 and you're crying about it? Can you imagine how fun it was for people who only went for female lis before that? Choice out of fucking nothing

I'm so fucking tired of you all (on tiktok)

The comment transl: "they started to make stories with only 2 male lis now with a lot of agenda pushing 😭 there are no one to choose from. The last story with lis I liked was HSR"

And that's the whole fucking comment section of that fucking video which is also about that

[kivino]

Platonic!Task Force 141 x Eastern European!Reader

Word Counter – ~1.9k

Summary – a compilation of headcanons about how reader’s Eastern European background would affect interactions with Task Force 141 during an undercover mission together.

Tags/Warnings – Gn!reader, Eastern European!reader (obviously), Platonic!TF141, fluff, mostly.

A/n – RUSSIANS DNI (this is a personal boundary, so I ask you to respect it, if you don’t like it just scroll past this post). Very self-indulgent. Just showing more love to my fellow Eastern European readers. Since it is mostly based on my own experience growing up as a Ukrainian, I’m sorry if certain things don’t resonate with you! This whole thing was made for fun and fun only.

So, let’s assume our beloved Task Force needs to go undercover to get some information on Makarov and his merry band of goons. Obviously, they can’t do it without at least one team member, who is familiar with the way of living in Eastern Europe. So, naturally, Laswell introduces you to them – born and raised there, ready to help them and stop your sworn enemy from escalating an already pretty shitty situation.

“So, allow me to introduce your new team member for the duration of this mission” Laswell nods to the door when you walk in, saying your name and callsign, already catching some looks full of curiosity from Task Force 141.

First thing they noticed about you? Resting bitch face for days. Who needs a mask when you have a death stare that will give the heebie-jeebies to most if not all of your teammates? However, they feel even more taken aback when you suddenly greet them with a warm, welcoming smile and a firm handshake, not a trace of that sour expression on your face.

One would think that you’d spend hours preparing four of them for the mission by teaching them language, helping to memorize names and faces of contacts, Makarov’s trusted allies, and potential targets. Naturally, you did your job, but those precious hours were also spent with you standing next to a whiteboard, ranting about the politics and societal issues of your country, explaining certain national jokes, and teaching them swear words or poetry you studied at school. But hey, they’re not complaining (maybe a little).  

They were skeptical about this whole deal at first. However, there was a shared understanding between the four of them that they needed to do whatever it took to stop the spreading of Makarov’s influence and diminish his resources in other countries. With time, however, they’ve found things that made their life in a completely new environment a bit more enjoyable and interesting.

Soap would pick up on your native language the fastest out of the Task Force. Under all these jokes and goofiness Johnny’s a smart guy, inquisitive as hell too, which makes a pretty good mix. He’d try to write down how you pronounce things in his sketchbook, dedicating pages upon pages to making a small vocabulary of what you say, searching up the translations of words any chance he gets. Convinces himself that it just helps him to get more into his new way of life, and not at all because he likes seeing you all excited when he slips a word in your language somewhere in the conversation.

“So how do you say it?” he points to the sentence, messily scribbled on the page with the ballpoint pen he slipped from Gaz. There is a slight frown between your brows – the word looks unfamiliar, more like gibberish than something in your language. You can practically feel the gears in your head screech and come to a halt as you drill Soap’s handwriting with your eyes.

“Oh, wait. You made a mistake here. No wonder I have no idea what this is.” You quickly take the pen and scratch the right version of the word on the paper, while Johnny chuckles at your brutal honesty. He doesn’t say anything though. Some time passes and you’re already correcting other words he wrote down, explaining the right way to say them. And you can feel a pleasant warmth spread in your chest when you can see Soap’s utmost attention directed at you.

Johnny can’t help but feel that moments like these were somewhat of a way to bond for you two. He’d jokingly offer to give you some Scottish classes each time you playfully flick him on the forehead for a word he pronounced wrong. He never expected you to take him up on the offer until the five of you got stuck in a countryside safehouse and essentially had nothing to do while waiting.

On the topic of Eastern European countryside, Price is not an old man by any measure, man’s not even forty yet, but it would grow so massively on him that it’s concerning. When you finally got a good, reliable contact that gave you some useful information you had to lay low for some time in a safe house not far from one of many Makarov’s places where the next weapon deal would be held. And while you waited several days for his people to show up there, obviously almost all of you were bored out of your minds. Not Price though. The man went exploring. Of course, taking you with him (he only wanted company on his small journey through the cozy countryside, don’t blame him).

Soon enough, during your walk you two come across the abundance of berry bushes and fruit trees everywhere, and while you pick something to munch on from them constantly, Price only scolds you. You smirk in response, giving him a handful of ripe mulberries, your lips and fingers now a dark red color from the juice.  

“It’s going to rot if nobody eats it. People who plant these trees would rather someone enjoy them instead of fruits just falling on the ground, getting squished, and going to waste.” And Price takes note of that with a small smile. Soon enough the two of you find a spring the whole village uses, a willow standing tall beside it, providing shade for you two to rest, chat a bit, and cool yourself off with fresh water. The fact that there are not many people around also doesn’t miss him. It’s quiet and peaceful, Price finally feels like he has room to breathe with his whole chest.

“You know, I could get used to a life like this.” Price finally mutters, enjoying your simple, comforting presence, walking along the river shore, and hearing the distant sounds of a train passing through the village. You look at him with understanding in your eyes, as you see the tension in his shoulders finally slipping away. Your captain relaxes, which is a pleasant change of pace from the frown on his face that you got used to.  

All five of you had to live in the same apartment in an old panel building closer to the edge of town. Not the best place to live, but a good opportunity to blend in with the locals and find leads on Makarov’s criminal “friends”. More than once you’ve found yourself sitting together with Ghost on the balcony that creaked with each blow of the wind, in complete silence while he was smoking some cheap cigarettes that smelled more like burnt paper instead of tobacco.

“Can I join you?” Your voice is a quiet rasp, as you lean against the doorway, pushing the mosquito netting to the side. You couldn’t sleep. Not when the whole world will go down the drain if you fail your mission. Not when it’s been a month already and it felt like you were still right where you started.

“Knock yourself out” the man shrugs, patting the stool near him. You shuffle your bare feet on the newspapers that were laid out on the balcony floor, plopping down on the seat, your eyes immediately getting glued to the view, enjoying the breeze that seeped through the open window. You two sit in silence for so long, but it doesn’t feel awkward, quite on the contrary – weirdly calming and serene.

After that night these nightly smoke breaks became a sort of tradition for you two, a way to wind down after a long day. Ghost would nod towards the balcony, a silent invitation reserved only for you. Regardless of whether you’re a smoker or not, occasionally he would offer you a cigarette from his pack or a hit from the lit one. A gesture of camaraderie.

“Thought you’d be more talkative.” Ghost’s voice sounds gruff after the whole day working your asses off just to discover the lead that you had was absolute bullshit.

“And I thought you weren’t a type for small talk.” You grumble in return, just as annoyed about coming back to this dingy apartment with nothing.

“That I am” He lets out a low chuckle, flicking his cigarette into an ashtray in his hand, avoiding eye contact with you.  

Kyle found himself liking your cooking above everything else. The way he would eat anything thrown together in a hurry by you was quite flattering. So soon enough you offered to teach him how to make some of your favorite national dishes, and he couldn’t say no to your offer. So, you decided to start easy – picking out the fresh ingredients. And where do you go to do that? Not a grocery store, no way in hell. The market filled with tons of people is the place you need. A lot cheaper than your usual supermarket too.

The number of times you got discounts for fruits and vegetables on the market from older women just for Gaz’s pretty eyes was insane. He would just blink at you with confusion written all over his face anytime you glanced at him with that smile and refused to explain why you spent a lot less money than expected on the fresh vegetables. At some point, Gaz even questioned his ability to count before you told him just not to worry about it since you got a “very special bargain”. And, obviously, Kyle was the one carrying the plastic bags filled to the brim with fresh produce.  

“You know, your version of the dish is not half-bad,” You say, licking the spoon and giving Gaz a wide smile, which he immediately returns to you tenfold. Spending time like this with him was a pleasure. Each minute spent together made you loathe even thinking about the time when you’d have to part ways and you won’t be able to teach him your cultural cuisine like this anymore.

“Well, I have a great teacher to thank for that.” Gaz gives you a charming smile, so glad to finally have a distraction from the constant looming presence of Makarov in his thoughts. Right this moment he caught himself thinking that he was happy they had you here with them. It would be a lot harder if not for you supporting and guiding them through everything. He felt…thankful.

You’d bring the whole Task Force to different cafes that serve your country's most famous dishes, but Kyle would be the one to enjoy these outings the most, barely raising his eyes from the plate to participate in the conversation.

“Wow, are you in a hurry or something? The food won’t run away from you.” You chuckle, while Kyle ignores the odd saying coming from you and continues to eat with the huge appetite he had ever since this undercover mission started.

However, nothing lasts forever, so after finishing their business with you, getting all the information they needed, and “cleaning up the mess” Task Force 141 bids you farewell, returning to their usual duties. Saying goodbye is never easy, even if you knew each other just for several months you still got attached to them, just like they grew very fond of you (as much as some of them hated to admit that). But hey, they promised to visit you after they finish up with Makarov. They promised. And the four of them keep the promises they make.

taglist - @mockerycrow @stridersdiner

check out my masterlist for more fics or send me a request!

[thebibliosphere]

Hi! How are you doing? Sorry to bother you, but i dont know many scottish people and idk who to talk to about this book I found on audible. It's called Imogène, by french author Charles Exbrayat. Do you know him /the book? I've started reading it but I had to pause because, while being sold as a "humorous spy story" I find the protagonist, a "very proudly scottish" woman, to be... an offensive caricature? Like she acts like a fool, honestly. This book contains some interesting points about sexism (it was published in 1959), and ridiculous british habits (such as employees forced to give money for princess anna's birthday or being socially scorned). I'm sure the shared dislike / distrust the protagonist and her british colleagues feel are (were?) realistic. But she is so extra, and the story keeps telling how lonely she is, even after working 20 years in london. She has No friends, most acquitances dont talk to her for various motivations, her bosses hates her ... idk I feel this book is actually mocking scottish people? Or scottish women??? I was SO there for a "strong woman protagonist who gives cutting remarks to her boss or peers", but this looks wrong. Idk. I didnt know whom ask for inputs. Maybe i'm reading too much into it. Feel free to ignore this mega rant. Have a good day!

I think cultural and historical context and time of publication-- which was almost 70 years ago --are important factors to take into consideration when we look at fiction through our current expectations.

I can’t speak to the book as I’ve never read it, but speaking as a Scots woman who worked for an English publishing house for a while, being made to feel alienated by my boss and others due to being Scottish was unfortunately still something going on in 2011.

I’d get lots of “Oh but you sound so eloquent” remarks regarding my thinned-out accent (something I did on purpose to avoid being told to “speak properly” which was also something I heard a lot in school if I ever used my native Scots language instead of “Queen’s English.”) and one time my boss referred to me as “their civilized Scot” to an American author, whose Scottish romance book I was supposed to be fixing the dialogue on.

The phrasing was along the lines of, “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to understand her. Joy is our civilized Scot.”

The author laughed and made another derogatory comment about how they just loved Scottish accents even if it was unintelligible a lot of the time. I kept my mouth shut because I didn't want to lose my first career job.

I kept my mouth shut a lot in that job.

In that regard I could very well empathize with the character being lonely and not engaging with anyone, even after 20 years.

The proud Scottish woman can be a bit of a caricature, but that doesn't necessarily mean it is intended as mocking.

Again, cultural/historical context matters.

I wasn’t alive in 1959, but I know there was a lot of Scottish media about the time that leaned into the stubbornness and pride of Scots women both for humor and to make societal commentary on the fact that women were strong and more independent than they’d ever been following two world two and a lot of men weren’t happy about it and wanted them to go back into their boxes. As a result the mouthy, proud Scots woman became a mockable caricature that turned women into shrill, over proud scolds.

Get back in your box or we’ll make fun of you, basically.

So is this book being mocking, or is it employing popular tropes of the time, knowing that audience will understand what it means and that the female protagonist is being subversive despite what others expect from her?

I can’t say. Again, haven’t read it. It could be utter dogshit and making total fun of my culture. But I do think when looking at older media we need to put our thinking caps on and think, “How would the audience of the time, 1959, have viewed and engaged with this?”

Expecting a “strong female protagonist” as we know it from media today isn’t going to work with media that’s almost 70 years old.

Hell, the “strong woman protagonist” wasn’t even something any piece of media could agree on when I was growing up in the 90s.

Times change. Literary tropes and preferences change. It helps to keep that in mind.

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Hi! I've seen your rant about dating and being asexual. I know how you feel. I've felt like this for a long time, and no, you don't come off as bitter or envious. You're just hurt.

I'm spending this Valentines Day alone too. The person I love the most only sees the physique. Oh, and the sexual, which I can't because I'm really sex repulsed. People only seem to care for looks, and that really hurts when you're offering love and not just carnal things. So I get how you feel, I'm being through the same right now.

I felt really bad, because you always cheer up a lot of people with your fics. If I'm being honest, I don't usually read NSFW parts, I prefer to read just the cute and fluffy stuff to at least pretend I'm being loved, so yeah, I felt bad and needing to tell one of my favourite writers that you're not alone.

I'm being honest with you and telling you're a wonderful person, and if finding love is difficult for you it's because of how things seem to work this days. Being ace isn't easy this days. I agree with you on the waiting till marriage, it's a choice, but it seems to be less respected than chosing to just go sleeping with everyone. People want instant gratification, and casual sex gives that gratification without needing to give away anything like in a relationship.

It hurts really much. I guess you know how I feel when I see the person I love most, someone who've I always treated like the most precious person in the world, get into casual relationships that usually end up with that person getting a broken heart. So yeah, you're not the only one feeling like that. Unfortunately, society has forgotten about real love.

But there's still hope. There'll always be hope. I've seen that you're in your weight lose journey, and I must congratulate you. Being healthy is a good decision, not only for the looks, because it'd help your health, also the mental one. I recommend you that if you keep feeling like this, you should go to a therapist. They're usually really helpful, but I don't know much about your situation so you're the one who knows yourself better. Anyways, I'm losing my point with this shitty rant. You're expressing yourself through the things you like (in this case that really good fiction about Hell's greatest dad), you're getting healthier, I think this is the best moment to make a change. To start thinking that you're good enough without needing to please people. You can find love. I know you do. You're a nice person, and I'm sure that one day things will get better for you. Maybe you'll spend Valentines Day alone, but who knows? Everyday is a good day to find love. Maybe you'll start a relationship in March 6th or January 2nd. It doesn't have to necessarily be February 14th (I know that date really hurts, but just think about it: it's like a day to think about what you can do to be really comfortable and happy in the romance topic).

I'd say that I hope this helps you, but well, this is just a shitty anon who doesn't even speak English properly rant. I just saw your rant and thought "shit, I can't let this happen, I have to try to make things better even if I know I can't".

So I'm sorry if this was weird, stupid, didn't make you feel better... But in resume:

-You're not alone, being ace is kinda difficult this days

-You're a great person

-You're doing a great job overcoming obstacles, you now just need to learn to love yourself (it's difficult, it can take a lot of times, but I really hope you manage to).

-Don't stress yourself. February 14th hurts, but being single this day doesn't mean you'll be single forever.

My best wishes,

Just a random anon.

Thank you anon 💖

Firstly, your English is fantastic, knowing another language other than your native one is beyond impressive! And I’m so so thankful you enjoy my writing 💜

Secondly, it’s good to know that I am not alone in my feelings. Aspecs truly were not made for the world we find ourselves in today. I’m sex neutral/favorable, it varies day to day, but it is something I want to experience. But with the right person at the right time. Dating apps all feel so artificial and insincere, like no one on there is looking for a meaningful relationship. It’s all disheartening. I promise to keep my chin up and heart open. The worst thing I could do is close it off to any possibility of affection and romance.

I wish nothing but good things for you, anon 💖

[gamergirl-niffler]

Emergency request: having recently relocated to a new residence (while not entirely new, the adjustment feels significant considering my years living abroad), I'm grappling with a sense of sentimentality. Could I request a scenario where Dabi and Bakugo provide comfort to their girlfriend following her move? 🥺 Thank you luv ❤️

OH, SWEETHEART! I am so sorry to hear it! Missing just your home or country can be hard. I hope that soon you will feel better!

I hope the boys will make you feel better!

Dabi & Katsuki with girlfriends who miss their motherlands

Dabi

🔥 Touya understands you. Missing your home can be tough.

🔥 There isn't much Touya can do, even if he would want to.

🔥 When you suddenly get all sad because you miss your home, he is there to hold you and listen.

🔥 He just lets you lay on his chest and rant about everything you miss - places, snacks, food or anything.

🔥 This big, bad villain actually opens up to you a little. Touya shares with you how he misses his home, how nostalgic yet sick he feels when he sees happy families around the city.

🔥 Touya arranges some money for himself and spends it on the snacks that he thinks should be the closest to what you are missing.

🔥 In the end, the two of you get it all under control, finding home in each other. It's not always easy, and each of you feels nostalgic from time to time, but you have one another in the end.

Bakugo

💥 He worked his ass off to help you move from your country to Japan, so he has some hard time understanding why you suddenly look like a sad puppy.

💥 Instead of dancing around the topic, he simply asks you about it.

💥 Once you tell him what's wrong, he is a little surprised, but he understands it.

💥 He doesn't want you to just keep being sad.

💥 So next time you get ready to enjoy dinner or any other meal, he is there cooking a meal from your country. No matter how complicated, weird or new it might be to him. He is making it for you.

💥 If you are sad because you miss some snacks from your home, Katsuki orders them online. Just like that, one day you receive a huge parcel, filled to the brim with sweets, drinks and everything else you missed.

💥 When you tell him about some specific places you miss, Katsuki thinks about similar places in Japan where he can take you to fill up this little hole.

💥 You speak the language he doesn't know? Bakugo is willing to pick it up a little. Speaking your native language should make you feel much better. Just don't laugh at him if he makes a mistake.

💥 He is a busy hero, but even once in a while he takes time off to rest. Bakugo makes sure to have vacation just when you do. Why? Because the two of you have a plane ticket booked, duh!

💥 Katsuki is taking you to your country, where you can show him everything you missed.

💥 Just so you know, this becomes your yearly tradition.

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

Hey so you know how you made Dick speak sanskrit in your fic? lives in my head rent free.

Why did he not speak romanian. how far back in the historical timeline was his clan(??? idk how to translate the word im thinking of into english but its “ନକ୍ଷ୍ୟତ୍ର”/ “ଗୋତ୍ର”) separated from the rest? How was it not prakrit? Were his parents just trying to reconnect to their roots? Did he learn it from his parents or was it learned while trying to connect with his roots? Does he ever realise that any songs and texts are all religious? Is HE religious with how many words in sanskrit straight up reference god?Does he feel alienated with how his culture is romani but his language is indian? Does he ever realise theres only one village in the world that speaks sanskrit as a native language and its over 13,000 km away? Does it get lonely realising that even damian’s knowledge of languages cant cover it?

Im sorry for ranting but my struggle to reconnect w my culture has me projecting HARD 😭

OH BOY- I have been avoiding some asks (because I haven't had the mental strength to give each the time and love response they deserves I swear im getting to yall) But THIS one was just far too good to pass (and im bored as hell in class)

I would say I do dive a little more into my headcanon culture stuff involving Dick and even Damien in Mama Bird (which again I REALLY NEED TO UPDATE)

BUT Let the rambling begin <33

Why does he speak Sanskrit in the fic vs any other language? Simply it was the closest language I could trace similar roots to Romani ancestery too that was easily acsessible dictionary/translator that I could use in my writings.

Canonically he probably WOULD speak a dilect of Romani or Prakrit etc, but in my desperate trying to look into the language and culture half of the resources I came upon were incredibly racist even for someone who had no idea about the culture before then.

How far back in the historical timeline was his clan??? (Clan/Tribe/Family are good english translation's) Im not familiar enough with Romanian clans to assign a specific one (Though from my understanding of research, The Grayson family would be desenced from Romani people lineages that used to reside in the Indus Valley region- yet another reason for the use of Sanskrit)

Were his parents just trying to reconnect to their roots? Did he learn it from his parents or was it learned while trying to connect with his roots? I havent thought into this TOO much, but i'll say as a headcanon that his family felt a great pride in their culture as some of the lucky few who could maintain their nomadic lifestyle with the circus. His Mother was probably less connected (only knowing from her grandparents sort of thing) and rediscovered her roots after meeting his Father who was VERY in tune with his culture.

And as such tried their best to reclaim those roots and share them with Dick. So yes he learned from his parents- but they were still fully connecting themselves.

Does he ever realise that any songs and texts are all religious? Is HE religious with how many words in sanskrit straight up reference god? This is more projection but as someone who grew up in the bible belt, (Translation- American southern region nicknamed "The bible belt" because of how ingrained the Christian Faith is in both religious practice and general culture) Dick is less belief religious and more culturally religious- he will use religious phrasing, have some habits/beliefs FROM religious background without being fully invested, and even some things he doesn't realize are heavily religious until pointed out.

Aka religious pratices in the way of how your mother would teach you to put knifes in the dishwasher upside down (so they wouldnt be as much of a hazard) but something you do because its how you were told instead of thinking about the WHY as much.

Does he feel alienated with how his culture is romani but his language is indian? Does he ever realise theres only one village in the world that speaks sanskrit as a native language and its over 13,000 km away?

Now this is more complicated, I don't know much about circus life (though I do actually have a friend I can ask so might change this later) But from what I know its a VERY mixed enviornment so Dick was both entrenched in his cultural lifestyle as a nomad with his parents proudly sharing their roots, while also being exposed to dozens of other cultures that were also "his".

Aka- Dick is an amalgamation of culture to the point he both belongs in more ways than most people could ever have, and yet feels completely isolated as a result since no one else understands why he gets upset when people wish him Happy Birthday early, why he always dumps the first steep of tea, why he "pays respects" to his bike and tools, why he sets aside food just to be thrown out, etc etc

Its nice, to be able to connect with people over so much, but at the same time it sucks when his family points out "weird habits" that he hadnt even realized were strange. (Thankfully after a few long talks, people stopped commenting on Dicks habits, anyone who does faces the wrath of the Batclan and just about every Hero from Metropolis to the edge of the Milky way)

Does it get lonely realising that even damian’s knowledge of languages cant cover it?

Actually Batfam DOES know some Sanskrit just by exposure of living with Dick. The one who knows the most is probably Alfred since he was the one dealing with the rambunctious kid who would get frustrated with instructions he didnt understand (and that frustration only getting worse for English being like 5th or so language)

None of them are anywhere near fluent though, but I like to think Dick has a pen pal/friends he practices with. Also because he's terrified of losing his proficency and in turn, losing another part of his culture his parents tried so hard to give to him.

And No need to apologize! Like I said, im an outsider looking in from a very different culture but I loved reading (what little good sources I could find) about this topic. Of course if you have any insights/comments/crituqes I would love to hear about them and thank you for the ask!!

[andsoigotabutterfly]

-Freefall

Emma Myers x fem!famous!actress!reader

Summary: Wednesday Season two's filming starts, and Emma can't help but find a certain new college of hers very attractive.

a/n: Well this took a heckin' long time. Sorry, I just had to hide from my government because I accidentally stole state secrets. Only surfaced up so I could upload this. Hope you enjoy!

warning: little bit of angst, jelousy, little fluffy (is this even a warning?), bad writing, not proofread, english is still not my native language so sorry for any mistakes, famous reader, oblivious Emma AND reader

ler me know if I left something out!

“So, basically this is basically it. What do you think?”

Emma has been showing Jasmine around set all day. Even though early setbacks, they have been bonding and overall having a great time together. This season’s set was way bigger than the last, yet the layout was similar, so Emma knew her way around. Many of the staff were still being hired, thus, she volunteered to show new people around.

“Way bigger than what I expected!” the curly haired woman exclaimed. “And everyone is so nice! To be honest, I’m a bit overwhelmed…”

“That’s natural” Emma nodded. ”First when I got here last season, my head was spinning like crazy. You’ll get used to it.”

Jasmin’s mouth was still slightly hanging open, in an awestruck state. Then she mischievously smiled and looked over at Emma. She was gleaming, and even though Emma has only known her for three hours, she knew she wanted to ask something.

“Out with it” she smiled back.

“Is it true, that the Y/N is going to our colleague?”

Even the mention of your name was enough for Emma for her smile to grow bigger. The last couple years, you have burst onto scene, claiming every award you’ve been nominated for, and you deserved every one of them. Somehow every movie you’ve been in, it was as if you owned the scene. Some films got big just because of your acting, but you acted in some that were famous even before you got added to the cast.

Emma was entirely and utterly enthralled with you, and it wasn’t even an understatement. When she got word from Jenna, that she had asked you to be a part of Wednesday season two, and you said yes, she nearly fainted.

Jenna, as the co-producer of the new season, had pulled some strings and invited a lot of actors and actresses she has been working with in the past to be a part of Wednesday. Jasmin and you were almost the only ones, who’d been available, and would want to take part in the making of the new season.

Then she realized she needed to answer a question, and quickly nodded.

“Man, she is just simply great!” she said, and then continued her rant about you for five minutes, whilst the only thing Emma could do, was to nod along, whilst leading the woman to the director’s cabin. She couldn’t disagree with anything she said.

“I’ve also heard she might be your love interest…” Jasmin mischievously said, leaning in and grinning at the smaller woman.

“What? Wher- N- No that’s ridiculous” Emma stuttered. “I would neve-“ she got cut of by her companions’ intense laughter. She blinked in confusion, little scared. “What’s so funny?”

“I meant in the show!” Jasmin laughed out.

Emma mentally facepalmed herself, then smacked the other’s shoulder. Then realisation settled in her, as Jasmin’s words sank in. No. It couldn’t be… But that would mean, you. And her. Would have to. The thought made Emma unintentionally smile.

As the two continued their way towards Tim’s base of operations, conversation flew between them easily. Jasmin would not let go of the topic, and would retrial the chatter towards you, whenever Emma would try to change the subject. She had quickly found about Emma’s interest in you and would constantly tease her with it.

They didn’t even realise that they have reached their destination, until a loud shriek came from the trailer. “I would be her what?!”

The two looked at each other, and without a word, got closer as to hear what’s happening inside. Not a lot could be made out, but Emma could hear two people talking inside. She looked over to Jasmin, whose eyes were wide, a huge smile plastered on her face. Seeing her clueless partner, she whispered a quick “Let’s get inside” towards her, and before Emma could do something, dragged her inside.

“Jenna, I just can’t do that!” you said, your distress clearly audible in your voice. You had your back towards the new arrivals, not noticing them. “It’s not like when I did it with you, she is- I’m…” You didn’t finish the sentence, as Jenna signed the arrival of Emma and Jasmin.

“Sorry, to interrupt, but we finished our tour, and Emma here doesn’t really know where my trailer is, so we just came in to ask for help?” Jasmin said with too big of a smile to be telling the truth. Emma knew for a fact she was talking bullshit, as her trailer was one of the first places, she has shown to her. Yet all she could do was blink like fish, as you slowly turned on your heel towards them.

Emma felt like a mouse on the Mars; breathless and small. The Y/N was standing before her, sunglasses in hair, wearing a leather jacket with a white shirt underneath, black denims and combat boots completing your outfit. You were gorgeous, your sparkling eyes and light-brown, shoulder-blade length hair highlighting your face. If she could look away from you, she could have seen her friend throwing a knowing smile at her from across the room, but she couldn’t take her eyes of your perfect features.

“No problem at all” Jenna said reassuringly. “We were just discussing Y/N’s role as Enid’s love interest. Come, I’ll show you to your trailer. It’s so good to see you again! How was your flight?” she asked, like she didn’t just drop a bomb in the room.

You seemed to slightly flinch at her statement. Emma’s heart skipped a beat. Jasmin smiled and put an arm around Jenna, both leaving the room, leaving you and a breathless Emma inside.

After staring at each other for a while, you cleared your throat and greeted her. “Hi” your voice was uncertain, shy even. Not what she expected from you. “I’m- “

“Y/N, yes. Hi, I’m-“

“Emma” you gulped. “Yes. Huge fan here” you gestured at yourself, a weak smile appearing on your lips. Why did they have to be so full and red?

Emma’s heart fluttered at your words. “Really? Me too!” she smiled back. “I mean, of you. Not me, that would be a little egotistical, wouldn’t it? Hilarious even” she laughed to herself. “You’ve been amazing in Dune!”

You finally, genuinely smiled at the mention of the film. “Yeah, that was one of my favourites to shoot. I’ve read the books like a million times before, and when I got asked to play, there was no chance I would turn it down.”

“’He, who controls the spice controls the universe’” Emma quoted, with a deep voice imitating the books. “Shame this line didn’t make it into the movie…”

“Right?!” you exclaimed. “I was protesting for like three weeks for them to add it, but they denied me! It’s one of the most important quotes and they just cut it! I was outraged” you pouted.

Time flew by as you two raved about the movie and the books, but soon the subject changed to other interests of you and her. As it turned out, you played the drums, and were pretty good at it. After nagging you for a bit, you finally caved in and showed her some of the voice recording you made for yourself, and you really impressed her.

“Have you been shown around yet?” Emma asked, little more hopeful than what she wanted to admit to herself. “The majority of the staff is still being hired, so I volunteered to show new actors around.”

“Please, go ahead!” you smiled at her. “The moment I got here, Tim asked for me and Jenna to hold a meeting. Then he left me and her here, and that’s when you jumped us, so no, I haven’t been shown around yet.”

“Did Jenna say what the number of your trailer is?”

“Yes, I’m in number eleven.”

Oh god. “So, you’re the one who stole my number!” Emma exclaimed. “No worries, I’ll forgive you this once. Also, I’m in the trailer next to it, so we’ll be neighbours.” You beamed at her words. Without thinking, she put an arm around your shoulder as she started to lead you out, but the moment she noticed what she had done, the smaller girl retracked her hand. “Sorry! I’m just- “

“No need to apologize” you settled her. “I don’t mind.”

Emma just glared at you for a moment, butterflies erupting in her stomach at your words. Then she realized she was supposed to show you around, and started the tour once again, her hand finding it’s way back to your shoulder.

-------

It took less than a week to hire the staff, and for everyone to arrive at set. During this short duration Emma and you quickly grew closer, a deep friendship blossoming between you two. Daily banter and hanging out instantly became normal, as you two met up every day. Emma made sure to introduce you to everyone on set who arrived.

Not long after, shooting started and just as last time, it was hard. Everyone swiftly realized that these seven months are going to be just as demanding as the last eight, if not even more so. After the first two weeks, Emma already felt exhausted by work, her only consolation being the nights spent together with you. It became regular for you to come over to her place, and discuss what had happened that day, sometimes putting on a movie in the background.

She knew she shouldn’t, but she started falling. Not even lightly, but blindly and deeply stumbling into the pit that you resembled. Your tinkling laugh, making her laugh with you every time, your bright smile filling her world, giving purpose for waking up every day. The softest touch from you made her day, and they weren’t even rare.

Jasmin quickly caught on and started teasing her about it. With Jenna having to attend a lot of managing meetings they couldn’t meet that much, but the curly haired woman quickly filled the space left by her. She became one of Emma’s closest friends, beside you, of course.

As the weeks passed, the whole cast got back to its last year traditions; late night parties, getting drunk as hell, and blaring some music in the background. At first, you were glued to Emma’s side, but as time passed you slowly became comfortable with everyone around set.

“Spin!” everybody chanted, as Jasmin sat her phone back down behind her after she texted her ex that she misses her. “Spin! Spin! Spin!”

Two months into shooting Georgie was the one to hold the weekly party night. Once he has shown everyone around, the enjoyments started. Alcohol was quickly brought forth and everyone eased their minds.

Now you were comfortably sat beside Emma, raising your fist as you chanted with everyone. You were in an oversized black sweater, and shorts. Your eyes sparkled with joy, and you were gleaming with the night’s energy. Emma lowered her voice as she took you in, wanting to burn this memory into her brain. You couldn’t be more beautiful.

The crowd cheered as Jasmin spined the empty vodka bottle. As you did as well, Emma reevaluated her last thought; you were even more beautiful now. The glass clattered slower and slower, and soon, it stopped pointing at…

“Y/N!” Jasmin smiled mischievously, as if she was looking upon her pray. “Truth or dare?”

Emma could feel you stiffen beside her a little, but you quickly composed yourself, and looked back upon her, your eyes taunting her to do her worst. “Truth” you said, chin raised high.

“Is it true, you realised you aren’t straight after your kiss scene with Jenna?” she asked immediately after. Emma felt her heart clench, and her breath catch in her throat. She looked around the room, and saw the brunette blushing, whilst the others either chuckled or woo-d at the question. Wait, you weren’t straight?!

You narrowed your eyes at the other actress, then sighed in defeat. You took a shot before answering, that was laying beside you at the floor. “Yes” you admitted.

“Was it because-“

“One, question, miss” you cut her off, voice low as you grabbed the bottle and spun it. Everybody laughed. Except Emma.

She still couldn’t get over the fact you weren’t straight.

Yet a pesky thought took root in her brain. Did you have a thing for Jenna? You came out right after your movie with her made it into the theatres, and you haven’t dated anyone since. At least not publicly.

After a few rounds, the game came to an end. Everyone was either tired, drunk, or already asleep. There was no way, adequate work could be done the next day.

You and Emma stumbled to your trailer together, talking and laughing. Originally Jasmin and Hunter were also with you but had already made it to their trailer. The departing woman threw Emma a knowing smile and a wink when she left.

Even though your trailers were next to each other, Emma made sure to walk you the rest of the way. She watched you fumbling with your keys and open the door. She gave you a goodbye hug, and turned around to leave, when she felt your hand grab her.

“Nuh-uh! You’re staying here. Too dangerous for you to make it to your own” you said and tugged her inwards.

“Y/N” she laughed but complied to your pull. “Mine’s literally next door!”

“Don’t care.”

So, there she was, at your place not really knowing what to do. Usually by this time, you departed from one-another to make it to your own bed without collapsing on the floor.

“Isn’t it a bit too late for a movie?” she asked, when she saw you preparing popcorn. Oh, how she hated herself for asking this.

“You got somewhere to be?” you asked back jokingly and threw you the remote control. “Just pick something! I’ll be there in a sec.”

She did as she was told. As the movie started, she made herself comfortable at the end of the couch, leaving you space beside her. Yet, the movie didn’t really concern her that much, more the thoughts of you and Jenna. The internet was exploding with shipping you and her after the movie came out, and Emma couldn’t deny the chemistry that seemed between the two of you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you asked as you slumped down next to Emma on the couch and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She ignored how this simple act of yours made butterflies erupt in her stomach.

“I-“ she started sheepishly, as a child caught during ice cream robbery. You weren’t helping either, with your cute, unwavering gaze. “Erm. Nothing really” she managed to say. You looked at her for a few more seconds, then turned to face the screen.

After a few minutes, you snuggled yourself into Emma, which made her breath get caught, and the butterflies return. She knew she was blushing too, and thanked the gods silently, that you couldn’t see her face.

“So, what’s up with you and Jasmin?” you asked, nonchalantly.

Emma furrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you two are very close, and she always makes you laugh…” you sounded unsure and hesitant, which was very new to Emma, coming from you.

“We’re just friends if that’s what you mean” she answered. To your nod, she felt like it was her time to ask, yet she felt like she wouldn’t like the answer. Her heart clenched at the thought. “What about you?” she asked anyway. “Do… you like anyone?”

You fell silent for a moment. Emma started panicking a little, thinking she crossed a line, until you spoke. “I’m just not sure if they like me back…” your voice was weak, and fearful.

Before she got a hold of herself, the next question rolled out. “Is it Jenna?” You stiffened in her hold, and she mentally facepalmed herself. Of course, it was Jenna. Who else would it be? She felt pain in her chest at the thought of you and her together, yet the thought of you being happy, lessened it. Even if only a little. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

You sit up so you can look at her, and she already misses the contact. There is something in your eyes she can’t decipher. But then you simply thank her and lean back into her. She feels strange. She feels bad. She knows she has no right for her heart to clench this painfully. Yet it does.

-----

“What’s with you?” Jasmin looked at Emma curiously.

She was playing her part perfectly, and the now blonde-haired woman had to admit; she looked pretty swell in the Nevermore uniform. Emma knew her lines, she had practised them all the night before, yet the words just wouldn’t come to her. She was just as distracted as Enid was in this scene if not even more so, and there was a good reason for it.

You were standing behind cover with Jenna, talking, laughing, and enjoying your time with her. Ever since the night where she figured out who you were crushing over, she had done a lot to help you. She ignored the part of her which violently wanted to stop her from doing so, but it got harder and harder. Her solution in the last couple weeks was to avoid you as much as possible. It got even harder when she would need to do her scenes with you, as shooting got to the part where Lilith and Enid, Lillith being the character you were playing, got closer and closer to one another. It wasn’t long until the kiss scene and Emma was freaking out.

It wasn’t like you didn’t notice her distancing herself from you, but Emma was just too scared to let you close again. She felt like, the moment you confront her, she would combust and confess everything immediately, so she did everything in her power, to avoid it, even if she knew it wouldn’t be possible for long. She got up earlier, to avoid you and even though it pained her more than anything, she cut of the movie nights and talking with you.

Yet now, as she was standing on set and you were off talking and enjoying yourself with Jenna, she couldn’t help but feel her stomach churning in uncomfortable and unpleasurable ways. She felt both guilty and helpless against it.

“Cut” Tim said a little disappointedly. “Emma, as she said” he continued as he pointed at Jasmin. “What’s whit you? You can’t concentrate, and we can’t shoot a goddamn scene with you.” It was true. She had been like this for almost three to four days now, but only became apparent now, as shooting got to the parts where she was in the main picture.

“Sorry, I’m just really over my head with a few things.”

“Take the day off” he said with a wave of his hand.

“No- But- I can do it, I promise!”

“It’s not that you can’t, it’s that I don’t want you to. You clearly need to sort things out.”

“But-” Emma started protesting, but Tim cut her off.

“Just go!”

Emma sighed in defeat and slumped out the scene. Now she had to deal with her thoughts about you. Great. Just great.

As Emma was walking out, she saw a glimpse of you and immediately changed her direction. She chose the back door exit instead and lengthened her steps. She felt you behind her, but before you could catch up to her, she was out.

Emma stayed in her trailer all day. She felt helpless against being this distracted, helpless against what you made her feel. She felt her heart clench every time you popped in her mind, which was almost constantly. The now familiar feeling of her stomach churning returned, and accompanied her all day, making her even more miserable.

Her absence didn’t go unnoticed. Jasmin, Hunter, Johnna, and Naomi all went to check up on her, but she sent them all away. She couldn’t deal with company right now. She didn’t want to break down before them which she felt impossibly close to.

Then sheknocked. “Hey, Emma” Jenna’s soft voice could be heard from the door. “Please let me in! I just want to talk.”

Emma’s heart clenched even more if that was possible. She hadn’t been nice with Jenna. Not that she was rude, but she avoided her even more than you. She loved Jenna, she really did, but the last couple weeks Emma wished she would just disappear. She knew she had no right to do so. She didn’t want to do so. Yet she did.

“Has someone done something wrong?” the brunette continued. Emma wanted to hug her so badly, tell her no, but she stopped herself. Why did she stop herself? “You’ve been distancing yourself from us and we miss you! I miss you…” her voice was now sorrowful. It broke Emma’s heart. “Have I done something? If-“

The older woman abruptly opened the door and pulled the startled woman into a hug. “No” she spoke, sounding a little scratchy. “It’s not you. It’s me.” Emma felt Jenna returning the hug.

“What’s with you?” the smaller woman asked softly as she stepped one step back.

“It’s-“ she started but forgot what she wanted to say the moment she saw someone behind Jenna. The moment she saw you. “Y/N” she breathed out unconsciously.

Jenna raised a brow. “Y/N?” she asked confused but wearing a smug smile. When she noticed Emma wasn’t paying attention to her anymore, she turned around and her smile grew even larger. “Oh, I see. Well, I’m going to leave you two some space, but don’t think you got out of explaining yourself Myers” she said jokingly and patted her friend’s shoulder. Before walking off, she threw a last smile towards the older actress, and whispered; “Go get her.”

Emma blinked in confusion a few times at the departing Jenna, but as you got closer she shifted her attention towards you. Suddenly, she became hyper aware of her surroundings; of how chilly the air was, how the gathering dark veil clouded the sky. Of how gorgeous you were.

She just stood there, rooted to the ground, speechless and gaping as you quickly got closer. Her back was against her trailer door, and the thought of reaching for the doorknob crossed her mind, but she was frozen in place.

“Emma” you said quietly, as if not believing the word that left your mouth.

“Y/N” Emma said again in a similar tone.

“I-“ you started shy, and unsure. “I wanted to apologize.”

Emma couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “For what?”

“For being too much, for dumping all my mental problems on you, for…” and you just started ranting about all that you’ve done while pacing up and down before her. Emma disagreed with all your statements. You were never too much, your problems never bothered her. She was sure the rest was nonsense as well, but she couldn’t comprehend the words coming out of you. It got all faint as she took in your presence again, felt your smell again could hear your voice again. You were perfect. How could she have done what she had done? It all seemed so pointless, so stupid. How could she be so stupid?

She mindlessly grabbed your arm and stopped you in your tracks. You immediately shut up and looked at her, eyes full of hope and curiosity. Emma opened her mouth, then shut it. No words seemed good enough, worthy enough of you. As she was searching for words, her eyes locked with yours, and her breath caught in her throat. She felt she could spend all her life looking into the depths of them. She wouldn’t mind getting lost in them for all eternity if it would mean you were close to her.

“I’m falling for you.” There it was. She broke. When she recognized what she’d done, it was already too late. She said it out loud. Then she realised how close you were, your face only inches away from hers. “You have nothing to apologize for. I was the fool, I-“

Your lips shut her up. They were so soft, so perfect. More than what she could ever dream for. They tasted like cherry, a taste she could feel herself become addicted to. Her hands drew you closer, pressing your body against hers. The world seemed to disappear between the two of you as you lost yourselves in one-another. Nothing mattered. Just you, moving against her, movements fully synchronized.

“I’m falling for you too” you said and chuckled once you needed to come up for air. Your foreheads were pressed against each other, her hands caressing your cheek. “Damn it! I should have confessed before you.”

“Just shut up and kiss me again” Emma breathed out chuckling as well.

The kiss was interrupted by Jasmin’s voice from next to you. “If you lovebirds are done peppering, we have a smaller party today!” she said.

“Jesus don’t do that ever again!” Emma exclaimed. “You’re the worst.”

“You love me for it!” she grinned deviously. “Now chop-chop! Oh, I will also need the two of you to do that again before everyone.”

“Why’s that?” you asked.

“Well, my dear lovely future wife-of-my-bestie, I have to prove somehow, that half the cast owes me money, don’t I?”

“You betted on us?”

“Since dawn of time! Gawd, if I don’t send Y/N after Jenna, I would have slipped out of the time zone!” she then turned around and proceeded towards today’s party location. “I can’t believe I almost lost money because these two blind doves couldn’t find each other. Man, it sure as hell took them long…” her rant went on, but she fortunately got out of hearing distance.

You chuckled in Emma’s arms and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Should we help a fellow friend out?”

“I’m thinking we should let her lose.”

“You think you can stop yourself from kissing me every five minutes from now on?” you asked grinning.

Even though she knew you knew the answer, she replied. “No.”

[ripmattitude]

HIGH - matt sturniolo x female reader

summary: you and your best friend matt get high together and leads to a heated make out session.

warnings: use of y/n, smoking weed, best friends to ???, latina reader, make out, not proof read

-

you had developed a crush on matt a couple months ago, and it had blossomed ever since. you hadn't acted on it though, the thought of flirting with your best friend and making him uncomfortable dissuaded you from taking action, so you just hoped one day he would feel the same and let you know in small ways. maybe his hand brushing yours, a look turning into a stare, a subtle red tint painting your friend's cheeks, anything.

"y/n" he mumbled, looking down to his lap. "have you ever smoked weed?" he asked nervously.

furrowing your brows, you answered "where's this coming from?"

"i just- i don't know, im sorry. forget i ever said anything" he quickly said, clearly regretting ever asking you anything. "it was stupid anyw-"

"yeah i've tried some, me and my friends smoke every couple weeks i know you don't like this type of things but that doesn't mean i will stop or-" you confessed, as you sat up straighter and tried to sound firm. but as quickly as your rant started, matt cut you off.

"no no, that's not where i was going" he laughed a little. "i just wanted to try some and was curious" he said softly, finally looking at you and putting a hand on your knee as to ease your nerves.

"oh" you embarrassedly said, thinking this talk was going a whole different road. you started to blush a little, and the placement of his hand wasn't helping much. "in that case" you say while standing up and looking away.

you feel matt's confused gaze as you go to your room and come back with a small, innocent-looking wooden box. you sit down on the couch and open it up, revealing your secret stash and a pre-rolled joint.

your best friend's eyes widen in realization, and an equally excited and nervous grin flashes on his face. he reaches out a hand and cracks open a window, already feeling the smell of the box and knowing it wouldn't get any better when smoking. you can see the band of his boxers, the brand name now flashing out of his jeans thanks to his t-shirt coming up due to the stretch.

to distract yourself from the dirty thoughts on your mind, you start lighting up the blunt between your fingers and take a hit. after exhaling, you give it to matt, and show him how to hold it properly.

"um, how do i.. smoke it?" he asks, feeling a little dumb for not knowing how to do this type of stuff. seeing you do it so naturally and swiftly only made his feeling worse.

"oh yeah, sorry. basically put it between your lips" you take his hands and guide them towards his mouth, you fingers gently brushing his soft lips. "inhale and let it sit a bit in your lungs. then, exhale" you instructed to the best of your abilities, wanting his first experience to be as pleasant and comfortable as possible.

he followed each step carefully, trying his best not to blow it out before he should, but his need to cough got the best of him.

"it's okay, no one does it perfectly their first time. you should've seen me, i was a mess!" you say, letting him know you don't expect him to smoke like a pro. "you wanna try again?" he nods and takes another hit, this time doing it perfectly. you smile and take the joint, chasing the feeling of relaxation it gave you.

you two had smoked the whole thing, and had chosen to head to your room to lie down in her bed. something about matt's actual state was so attractive to you: his constant smile, his droopy eyes, the slight rasp of his voice and the way he was always in contact with your skin.

"did you know i used to take spanish in high school?" you giggled at this, knowing he spoke your first language but said he was really bad and didn't want to humiliate himself in front of a native speaker.

"yeah, you told me but you never want to show me your talent! you know, marylou said you were one of the best of your class after nick but you still don't want to show me" you pout playfully, maybe today is the day you get to hear him speak spanish.

he laughs, and continues "yeah, it was one of the only classes i liked. i love the language! it's so sexy, it actually is a kink or turn on to me" you feel your heart skip a beat and yourself clench at the thought of you turning him on. a sudden wave of boldness washed over you and an idea came up in your mind.

a smirk came over your face as you said in the most sultry voice you could "que sientes si empiezo a hablar en español?"

you saw him tense up and look up at the ceiling, lying flat on his back as to avoid your gaze.

"te excita que hable así matt?" you continued, still using the flirtiest tone you could use. shaky breaths left his mouth.

"y-y/n, don't" he mumbled quietly, still avoiding your eyes.

"no te escucho, me puedes mirar a los ojos?" he turned his head and looked at your eyes. you bit your lip, trying to hold back from continuing this act, but his reaction was just too much for you.

"puedo besarte?" your best friend asked, licking his lips with desire. surprised at his perfect pronunciation and sexy tone, you nodded frantically and connected your lips with his.

the kiss was full of lust and want, your arms snaking to his neck and your hands beginning to play with his hair, earning a moan from matt. you used this opportunity to deepen the kiss, pushing your tongue into his mouth.

matt sat up without breaking the kiss. his hands first grabbed your waist firmly, but then slid to your ass where he squished your cheeks and continued his way down to your under thighs. he lifted you and put you down so you were now sitting on his lap.

the feeling of kissing matt made you feel so fuzzy and overjoyed, butterflies buttering in your stomach. you had become addicted to his lips and didn't know what you would do without it.

his fingers trailed up and down your thighs, each time getting closer and closer to where you needed him most. whimpers and whines came out of your mouth, expressing your want need for friction between your legs. you began straddling him, gaining a groan from him. you felt his cock hardening even more than it already was, which made you moan.

matt threw his head back at the feeling of your clothed pussy rubbing against him, leaving room for you to move your kisses to his jaw and neck. his moans only encouraged you to suck and bite his skin, leaving marks. he massaged your cheeks and guided your movements as you continued kissing his neck and collarbone. "fuckkk" he exhaled in pleasure, wanting to feel more of you.

suddenly, something clicked in your head and you realized what you were doing. you were making out with your best friend and you were both stoned. this wasn't right. guilt started to take over you and you stopped your movements and hopped off him, standing up from the bed to create space between you and him since you knew if you didn't, you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from jumping on him again.

your actions somewhat startled him, watching you with complete confusion in his face.

"i'm so sorry matt" you said quietly turning around to ignore his gaze. "i'll.. sleep on the couch" you said quickly, grabbing a pillow to take with you. "goodnight matt"

"y/n-"

he was shut up by the closed door.

-

author's note: hii this is my first fic so PLS no shaming but i will take constructive criticism🫶 i could turn this into a mini series, i got something on my mind but i would love to hear your thoughts first! also, the title is shit, i didn't know what to write😭😭

[very-straight-blog]

This might sound funny and cringey, but I feel like I lost something I cared about and now it's just sadness and depression. Like it's a TV show, I get it, but we waited 2 years and for what? To get the two worst episodes imaginable. I'm really starting to believe that Sapochnik was responsible for everything good in s1, bcz Condal and Hess ruined this show. S1 wasn't perfect and I didn't like a lot of things in it, but it still managed to keep me invested so I hoped that in s2 everything would be improved. And yet, I'm so terribly disappointed. Alicent's characterization makes no sense anymore, like they want so badly to show her as a bad mother and a hypocrite and really - after ruining bnc with Alicole sex now it had to follow with her not being able to console her son but hoping on Criston is a must do?? What sort of degenerates write this??

Aemond is also ruined for me and I would love to erase that crappy brothel scene from my memory. What was it for? To show his mommy issues, vulnerability... Idc. The dialogue was bad and they did him dirty with the angles and the pose. And now he's apparently going to be there *again* in e3 and we'll get full frontal nudity. Idk why the actor agreed to this since they are obviously making a joke and meme material of his character. Not to mention that he straight up lied in the promos about being loyal (if the RR leaks are true and I'm almost 100% sure they are). I get that they are told what to say, but a more general answer would have been much better than a lie. In brief, one of my favourite s1 characters is also destroyed.

Then Cole. My god, I only waithig for him to look at the camera and say "do you hate me enough already hahah?" He's the writers punching bag atp.

Helaena barely exists.

Otto is Viserys' fanboy and ofc, appalled by his grandson. It's not as he just has lost a son and was forced to take the crown in the first place by him and his mother, no less.

Aegon got more screentime and I love Tom's performance, but I'm not fooled. He is still depicted as weak, politically inept and rash. And he'll still be a bully, apparently. Just to justify his brother's treason. F*ck you Condal, Hess and whoever else is responsible for this mess.

Anyway, sorry for the rant. I just don't get how anyone can seriously praise this shitshow anymore. It could have been great, but the creators are obviously not up to the task which is now painfully obvious. I wouldn't mind the greens as villains, but don't write them as a walking joke. I'm quitting the show and would like just to forget about it. This adaptation of the Dance was a huge mistake.

I feel you! By the way, I haven't participated in any fandom life, I think, for 10 years or more, but thanks to HOTD, I started this blog, I write some critical (well, kinda) reviews, and English isn't even my native language. I've been waiting for the second season for two years and now I just feel tired and empty. So far, the only thing I've liked about these two episodes is Aegon's storyline, that's all. Everything else is bad, very bad, and judging by the leaks, it'll be even worse.

Firstly, the series has a very strange pace of the narrative. We didn't get a bunch of important plot scenes, and even those that remained were shown in a hurry, but at the same time we have many scenes like "Rhaenyra stares at the dust for three minutes", unnecessary dialogues and PAUSES between lines.

Secondly, again, an insane amount of important plot details are left behind the scenes and this is absolutely wrong. Aemond's return home, the family's reaction to what he did. Aegon's reaction when he learned of his son's death. Aemond's reaction when he finds out what his actions have led to. And so on and so forth. Many of the characters' actions are shown without context. Alicent fucks with Criston - cool, but can I have some additional information? How long has this been going on, what feelings do they have for each other, how have they developed, like, anything? The same can be said about the scene in the brothel - no context.

Thirdly, it's unclear what's going on with the characters, as if the screenwriters decided to make the greens the most unpleasant people in the world. So far, I only like Aegon and Helaena. I can't even say anything about Aemond, because his only dialogue scene is built around Daemon and Luke, damn them. I just can't.

Everything annoys me except Aegon lol. So yes, I understand you.

[ellssbellss]

Lavender Roses ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

pairing ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

In which a rational head hides a generous heart, but you have always known how to see past his walls and help him bloom into the gorgeous rose he is. Enjoy a slow burn between an honor student and our beloved glasses character!

Happy 1 year to Lavender Roses and this entire, wonderful blog. Without you, this story wouldn't have reached as many people as it has. From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much.

-> summary: "But not anymore. You haven’t been alone for a long time, (Y/n), not since you joined the club. Not since you met me."

-> word count: 8.3k

tw! the scene on the cliff gets a little intense, mentions of blood, demeaning language against women, slight PTSD, weaponry (knives), verbal assault, physical assault, sexual misconduct. kyoya is dumb and so are you.

legend:

(M/n) - mother's name

(n/l) - native language

(s/c) - skin color

see masterlist! masterlist

taglist! @abbysblogsstuff @sunukissed @kisskissshutmydoor @idonia-dovahkiin @greensnakegoblep @vervainnnn @desert-fern @delievia @obeythemasters @luca-nightshade @sweetandsourwrites @wrzloyd @1234567890nono @inactivecrofters @katiebwalczak03 @reader3 @radical-bunny @stevexbucky404 @localgaytrainwreck

The Sun, The Sea, and The Host Club! pt. 2

Kyoya lounges as he writes, a foreign feeling of contentment wrapped around his frame.

Soft bursts of images sift through his mind, you over his lap, your arm on his side while his gravitates towards your hip. How close your mouth was to his and how badly he wanted to taste it. How he had basically lunged at the chance, not that you were complaining.

That had caught him off guard. 

As he was writing, the megane realized he had never been a fan of romance. Above multiple reasons, he never saw the point. His father and mother had married for business instead of love, creating an environment where affection was not celebrated or practiced. He would see couples in the hallway and roll his eyes, thinking that they were wasting their time. 

When he voiced these opinions one evening to his sister Fuyumi, she gasped. 

“Kyoya! You really think love is a waste of time?”

“It’s a chemical reaction, Fuyumi, that’s all.” He had explained in a monotone voice, barely giving her any attention as he was typing away at his computer. “Your brain releases a certain neurotransmitter when you find someone attractive and compatible, and it tricks you into thinking you’re in love. Companies leech off this, creating Valentine’s Day, cards, encouraging weddings and all this nonsense.” 

He pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “I am not one to be fooled, and I will certainly not allow myself to be tricked by my own mind.” 

Kyoya ended his bored rant with an amused chuckle, feeling sorry for the suckers out there who lost precious time and money on something that could never really last, at least not forever. 

But Fuyumi just stood there, leaning against the doorway with a small smile on her face as she looked at her oblivious brother, too young to take the world as seriously as he did. 

“You can tell me that when you meet a wonderful man or woman, and we will see how you feel about how you want to spend your time.”

Kyoya scoffed. “Please, how I feel is irrelevant. My work is what deserves my time, end of story.”

Then his phone rang, and he paused his typing to see a contact picture flashing on the screen. Leaving his chair, he had walked to the door of his bedroom as he answered the call. 

“Hello, give me one second, please.” Then he turned to her, a little brother shoving his sister out of his room.

“Goodnight, Fuyumi.” The door closed behind him with a clack, and Fuyumi heard her brother pick up his conversation as he disappeared into his room. “Hello, (Y/n), thank you for calling me back…”

Kyoya smirked as he came back to the sounds of the beach, waves and laughing people filling his ears as his thoughts ran away with him. 

He had met a wonderful girl. And he could barely fathom how he was lucky enough to understand the feeling his sister was talking about. The pull he had to you was intense, and it was something he had never experienced with anyone before. 

The sun had reflected off of your (e/c) irises so perfectly in that moment, and the short distance had enticed him heavily, that the pull tugged and tugged. 

He hadn’t even confessed yet, and you had somehow convinced him to give in to his own temptations. 

“Kyoya! What should I do?!”

The ravenet broke out of his thoughts as his best friend ran towards him, arms holding a bucket of snakes in their grasp. 

Kyoya simply arched his brow.

“I wanted to scare Haruhi and (Y/n) with these rat snakes, but the twins said that anyone would find them creepy, so it wasn’t a true weakness! And now I don’t know what to do!” Tamaki whined, his voice rising as he shuffled on his feet, anxious about the snakes in his grasp. 

The club director’s spectacled gaze fell onto the snakes, twisting inside the plastic bucket without a care in the world. Taking a closer look, he let out a deep sigh.

“Those aren’t rat snakes, Tamaki. They are poisonous Habu snakes.” Kyoya turns back to his book. “Rat snakes aren’t even native to Okinawa.”

“What?!” Suddenly, the prince of the host club is running around in circles, whining while juggling the bucket in his hands. “What do I do with them?! C’mon, Kyo, you gotta help me out!”

“Tamaki, Kyoya!”

Both boys freeze as they watch Haruhi race towards them, her feet kicking up sand as she meets them at the chair. 

She’s breathing heavily, her eyes wide with fright and worry as she heaves. “Help, please, you’ve gotta help me.”

Forgetting about the bucket completely, Tamaki rushed over to Haruhi, pulling her close to him to try to ease some of her worries. “What is it, Haruhi? Are you hurt? What do you need?”

“It’s (Y/n). I thought we could handle it, but things got out of control. She told me to come get you.”

“What?” Kyoya sits up on his chair, quelling the anxiety in his chest. He admired Haruhi for being a girl who is very put together, so for her to fight the fear in her voice so adamantly is concerning. “Is she okay?”

“What’s wrong with (Y/n)?” Tamaki says calmly and firmly, trying to get some answers out of his panicking honor student. 

“These boys! They were- they-, god just follow me!” Flustered she turns around, sprinting away from the two hosts.

Kyoya and Tamaki rush in pursuit, agony filling into their chests. 

As the cliff comes into view, Kyoya catches Haruhi’s concerned gaze rise to the top of it, his own eyes following. Three shadowy figures struggle in the sunset, and his heart plummets as one of them is pushed to the high edge. 

In the distance, a piece of fabric lies stagnant in the sand, and Kyoya curses as he passes by it. A Hawiian shirt, ripped and torn as it lies helplessly in the sand. 

“No, no wait. Stop!” You struggle as Ren pushes you back, your heels leaving the ground as he holds you over the cliff's edge.

“Yeah, yeah, you know what?” The alcohol on his breath is rancid as he sneers, Aoi grinning behind him. “I ain’t got time for difficult chicks like you. Might as well leave you out to sea.” He jostled you, and relished in the way you flinched. 

“Don’t! Don’t, please, don’t. It’s too much. Please, don’t let me go.”

“Oh, now you’re begging for me to hold you? Where was this a few seconds ago, sweetheart?”

“(Y/n)!” Hearing Tamaki’s voice was sweeter than any cake that Honey could’ve given you, making you want to cry out in relief as you looked behind the two thugs. 

Ren and Aoi freeze as you see Haruhi, Kyoya and Tamaki round the corner of the bottom of the cliff, concern and determination shining in their visages.

Meeting Kyoya’s gaze, you wriggle around some more, trying your best to shove Ren off of you without any friction below you. “Tamaki! Kyoya! They’re going to-”

You're quieted with a hand covering your mouth, Ren shouting in your face. “Be quiet! We aren’t doing anything!”

Kyoya’s jaw clenched at your plea, and he pumps his legs into a faster run, trying to get to you as you are, dear god, dangled off a cliff. “Let go of her!”

Aoi turns to Ren, and you see panic in his eyes as your three heroes charge up the rocks. “Ren, we gotta go. Like now, they don’t look happy.”

“Shut up, I know that.” Ren snarls before he forces a grin and turns to the boys, holding you up by one hand now.

“You want me to let go? Well, whatever you say.”

“No!” Kyoya called, but it was too late. 

Ren’s fingers go limp, any tension that was holding you up above the waters below disappearing as the fabric of your bathing suit slips from his grasp. 

The air whipped around you as you watch the cliff get smaller and smaller, plummeting towards your greatest fear. You feel a scream bubble up to the opening of your throat, but no noise dares to release, shock taking over your entire body.

Cold, sharp pains spider through your back as you hit the water, knocking all the wind out of your lungs in one single splash. The feeling of watery nothingness surrounds your skin as it pricks you. At the waterpark, the lazy river had tried to pull you into its flow, desperately and immaturely trying to take its next victim. 

But the ocean was experienced, eerily calm as it let you sink. And sink. Wrapping its deep silence around your form, you don’t think you’ll ever stop sinking. 

And as you begin to cry at the thought, water fills your lungs. 

“(Y/n)!” Haruhi tried to call, but you were already out of sight, plunging into the water below. Panic clouded Kyoya’s mind as he ran, all of his thoughts zeroed in on the conversation that he had just had with you minutes before. 

I just don’t like the idea of being deprived of oxygen. Then I’d just sink, and be lost.

And now you were lost to him, falling into something you so desperately had tried to avoid. 

In his pursuit, a hooded man, much shorter than Kyoya, tried to step in his way. The kid grabbed at him, and any anger Kyoya had in his body went into a singular push, sending the man tumbling to the side. “Get out of my way.”

Reaching the edge, Kyoya didn’t think twice. Discarding his precious glasses to the side, Kyoya shoved the problem of the disgusting man in the red shirt out of the way, and took the dive. 

Long and lanky, he arched into the dive, his nearsightedness making it so your figure was just a blur from this distance, but he targeted it. His palm reached out and willed you to be closer, willed you to be okay. 

“(Y/n)!” He called as your fuzzy figure disappeared into the ocean with a harsh slap, the sound echoing in his ears. Kyoya’s own fall ended as he dipped into the water soon after, cursing his terrible vision as he looked around. 

A relieved exhale presented itself in bubbles when he finally saw you, drifting limply as the current pulled you along. Kicking hard, Kyoya stretched his muscles and his lungs as he held his breath, fighting against the density of the water. As he got closer, his stomach turned when he saw a small vein of red seeping from a cut in your leg, which only made him swim faster towards you. 

Finally, his hand grasped your floating one, and in one quick movement, pulled you against his chest. With your weight against him, his logical mind rebooted, and he tucked your head under his chin as he swam up to the surface. 

“(N/n)-chan!”

“Kyoya-senpai!”

The voices seemed so distant, your skin clammy and gooseing against the beach air. Something was moving you, you could feel a familiar pressure against the small of your back and behind your knees, but it didn’t distract from the wave.

Your blood waved, splashing and swaying against the walls of your veins. It felt like your muscles had melted into liquid, and you were still in the pool, being bobbed and pulled into the black of the ocean. 

But then there was a shade of orange behind your lids, and blinking made it brighter. Something dragged over them still, tugging your eyes open as the sky moved above you. 

Tufts of black hair and a very sharp jawline were the next visions to come into your view, and the waving stopped, replaced by the firm steps of Kyoya carrying you to safety.

“Kyo…” Your voice was hoarse, raw from unconsciously coughing up water as soon as you had reached the surface. 

He didn’t respond, his gray eyes covered by his wet hair, but his grip on you tightened ever so slightly. 

Instead, he looked forward towards what you would assume to be your friends, but you were too focused on the deep orange the sunset casted across the clouds. 

“Where’d they go?”

“We took their ID cards and asked them to leave, not before showing them what’s for.” A voice said. Hikaru..yeah, Hikaru.

“The girls went back to the hotel and Mori called a doctor. He should be here any minute.” Kaoru follows like he always does, and the comfort of their routine brought you back to reality, especially when they mentioned the doctor.

“I’m fine, guys. I really don’t want to see a doctor.” You say, sighing as you leave Kyoya’s grasp. When your feet hit the solid ground of packed sand, you wobbled a bit, and Tamaki came into your line of sight. 

His arms helped steady you, but he didn’t let go as you straightened out. “What were you thinking?”

Still a little dazed, your brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“Tamaki, stop.” Haruhi says as she stands next to you, giving you one of her jackets to wrap around yourself. 

“No, no.” Tamaki’s voice is low, collected. It shook you. “What were either of you thinking? You know, you aren’t martial arts masters like Honey and Mori-senpai.”

“Duh, don’t you think I know that?” You chuckle a bit, trying to lighten the mood, but you’re getting more and more frustrated by your best friend’s accusatory tone.

“You think this is funny?” Your prince is in disbelief as he raises his hands from your shoulders to the base of your neck. “Why did you confront them? What made you think you could stand a chance? You against two boys?”

“It doesn’t matter if they were boys and I’m a girl. They were harassing our guests, they needed to be stopped!” The emotional toll that today’s events have taken wore down your patience, and now you’re raising your tone, lacing it with betrayal and disbelief.

“We were there, Tamaki, we had to do something!” Haruhi takes a stand, trying to talk some sense into your best friend. 

“That’s no excuse, you idiots! Don’t forget that you are girls!”

“Kyoya.” Turning, you look back at your director for some support. “Tell him we did the right thing.”

But there is no answer. Kyoya just stands there with his arms folded, his mouth formed into a straight, formidable line, securing all of his thoughts behind a single wall. Water drips off the ends of his hair onto his toned torso as his jaw clenches, not breaking eye contact with you. 

“Kyoya?”

“You ran into a situation unprepared, unyielding, and irresponsibly. You put yourself in danger, self-sacrificing your safety for the needs of three girls you barely know.”

If Tamaki’s serious tone was shaking, Kyoya’s was chilling. It was cold, unrelenting as it jabbed into your heart with every syllable. “Are you mad at me right now? After you jumped off a cliff to save me?”

“I wouldn’t have had too, if you had been as smart as I thought you were.”

Defensiveness burns inside you. “I did what had to be done! Yes, it wasn’t safe, but it was me or those girls, and I couldn’t let them get hurt.”

“But you could put yourself at risk?”

“It’s different!”

“How?” With haunting grace, Kyoya outstretched his hand in order for Hikaru to place his lenses into his palms. Using the fabric from his shorts, he cleans them off the best he can, and slips them onto his nose. “The worry you felt for those girls when they were grabbed, and the worry that not only I, but everyone here felt for you when they saw you dangled at the edge of a cliff, you tell me how those are different.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, you run your hands over your face, not being able to put your feelings into words. “It just is. And I’m sorry you had to come save me, but I can’t understand why you’re so mad at me right now.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

“I don’t think I did anything wrong!”

At that, Kyoya’s piercing gaze sharpens, and you see his adam's apple bob, a signal that he is calling upon his immeasurable self-control. “You don’t think so? Fine.”

He steps forward, walking towards you and then brushing your shoulder as he passes your form. 

“Kyoya, where-?”

“I don’t think we can speak again until you can admit that you were wrong.”

And with that, his form becomes a spot in the distance as he leaves you in the dusk. 

Soon, you left the others to wander around Kyoya’s guest house aimlessly. You frowned at every framed picture of his family, even ones where he was young and round, not sharpened by what his world had to offer. 

You climbed to the second floor, only to come to a line of doors. 

“Bedrooms…” you confirmed under your breath, running your hands along the wall as you passed them. “But…which one..?”

On the door handle on the second room from the end of the hall, a yellow rose was tied around it, welcoming and ironic all at once. 

A sad smile came to your face as you plucked it off the knob, then turned it, still holding it in your grasp as you entered the room. 

The room was generic, but you noticed a bouquet of yellow roses sat on the bed, tied with a lavender ribbon. There was a note in the gorgeous arrangement, and you plucked it out from it’s stand. 

Dear (Y/n),

My room is the one at the end of the hall, next door to this one. Should you need anything, you may let me know, and it will be done. 

Have a restful night. 

Sincerely, 

Kyoya Ootori

Swallowing, you set the note down and fiddle with the petals of the roses, Haruhi’s jacket softly brushing against your wet form. That note must’ve been written before everything had gone down, and your heart turned a little at the thought of him coming in here and placing these here with care, knowing how touched you would be when you saw it. 

Putting them on the nightstand, you drag yourself to your shower. While the hot water runs down your body, you rest your head against the tiles, trying to think your way through this. 

Tamaki was frustrated, Kyoya was pissed, and Haruhi was almost hurt. Everything today had been overshadowed by a single action by two terrible people, and you hated it. The drama that had been going on lately, and the stress of the dinner with your family and Arai, had left you tired, emotionally and mentally. To make it worse, the person you wanted to talk to the most about everything that was going on in your head currently was not talking to you. 

Lifting your head, you let the water splash onto your face before getting out and dressing into something that was finally more your speed. The week had been full of dressing you to the nines for the perception of others, but as you prepared to have dinner with your friends (or who you hoped were still your friends), you could wear something that expressed who you were, not who someone wanted you to be. 

As you fixed your face and hair, a knock sounded at your door, methodic as it rang against the wood. 

You almost wanted to ignore it, but the possibility of Kyoya being on the other side was too intriguing, and you rushed to the door, calming down before coolly opening it.

“So, now you decide to-oh. Hey.” Hiding your slight disappointment, you look up to see Mori standing in your doorway. “What’s up, Mori-senpai?”

“Dinner’s ready.” His mouth is curved a little at one side, and you can tell he’s trying to be a little more joyful for you, considering everything that happened. 

He then raises his hand from his side, and presents an Ootori Hospital First Aid Kit. “Kyoya wanted me to give this to you. For your leg.”

Eyebrows raising, you take the kit. Throughout the drama, you forgot about the cut Ren had made on your calf. Seeing it now, the salt water helped stop the bleeding, and it was scabbed over, now just serving as a reminder of what you had gotten yourself into. 

“Thank you, Mori.” Your gratitude came out as a sigh as you set the med kit down, and Mori watched as your form slouched ever so slightly.

“(Y/n).” 

“Hm?” Looking up at him, he swallowed at the tiredness in your eyes. Doing what he thought was right, you felt the stoic place a comforting hand on your head. 

“I can teach you. So can Mistukuni.”

“Teach me? Teach me what?”

“How to protect yourself.”

Two times you had been subjected to the whims of a confused, angered man. And both times, no matter how you had tried to fight against them, you were still untrained, still ignorant of the ways to use your power to its fullest potential. This time, when you looked back at your friend, your eyes glimmered. 

“Really?”

A firm nod came from the tall man, and you couldn’t help the sigh of relief that expelled out of you. Arms opening, you reach out and hug Mori around his waist, nuzzling into his long frame.

“Thank you, Mori.”

The hand on your head tightened for a moment before he stepped back. “I’m gonna go get Haruhi, and we’ll walk down together, yeah?”

Nodding, you step out of your room, closing the door behind you. “Yeah, sounds good.”

The minute Haruhi had stepped out of her room, your eyes lit up.

A pretty pink nightgown draped over her shoulders, ruffles shooting out the side of her collarbone. She looked beautiful and elegant, and it was refreshing to see her out of the clothes that reminded you of the fight on the cliff. 

And if you thought she was beautiful, the rest of the hosts clearly didn’t disagree.

As the three of you stepped out into the dining hall, the twins immediately shot up, mouths agape as Haruhi glided into the room. 

Even Honey smiled as he stood on the chair of his seat, milk chocolate eyes glittering with the sight of her.

“Woah!” The boy-lolita said, and you stepped aside as he and the twins surrounded the honor student, complimenting her as she smiled gratefully. 

Turning towards the long dining table, you see two figures. Tamaki fights the blush on his face as he stares at Haruhi, but still chooses to sulk at his place at the table. His purple eyes meet yours, and then they slide down, and your stomach coils as he turns himself off to you.

Daring to glance at the person sitting across from your prince, Kyoya leans into his chair, his black journal perfectly perched on his lap as he writes, and you swallow. 

Knowing that Tamaki was a ticking time-bomb, you take your chances, walking up to the Shadow King. 

“Is this seat taken?”

No response. Looking around, you see name cards propped against the plates, your name clearly written in a very familiar cursive. Must’ve been the preparations he had made before.

“Looks like it is now.” You say awkwardly, shuffling the chair out and sitting down next to the ravenet. “I, uh, I got your note. And the roses. They were really beautiful.”

His pen pauses, and his dark eyes lift over his pages to stare into space. Then Kyoya’s eyes shift down, and his writing continues.

Folding your fingers over, you wait silently as the other hosts fawn over Haruhi, literally twirling your thumbs. Tamaki is sitting across from you, avoiding your eyes. Rolling your eyes, you twist your mouth as you try to catch his gaze, and being the pushover he is, he holds it after a moment.

You tilt your head, sitting aggressively back in your chair. You’re mad at me too, now?

Violet eyes roll. He’s not mad at you, just hurt. Talk to him, mon ami.

You think I haven’t tried?

Clearly, you didn’t try hard enough. Flipping his blonde hair away from his eyes, your best friend gives you an incredulous look. The man jumped off of a cliff for you. 

I didn’t ask him to do that.

You wouldn’t have done the same for us?

Your lips part a little, but you look away for a second before meeting his eyes again. A blonde eyebrow raises and Tamaki rests his chin in his hand.

I would’ve jumped off that cliff too if Kyoya hadn’t beaten me to it. We’ve all been through a lot today. Violet eyes are drawn back to the host in pink, and you sigh as they become distant. 

Reaching across the table, you tap it lightly, hearing the writing beside you pause for a moment as Tamaki looks back at you. 

You’re not going to tell her she looks nice? I figured you would’ve been all over that dress.

We aren’t speaking right now. 

Your expression morphs into one of disbelief and slight annoyance. What? Why?

She acted childish, running up there with absolutely no regard for herself.

So did I, and you’re talking to me.

Deadpanning, he smacks his lips together. This isn’t talking! We probably look like crazy people right now.

A small smile takes up the corner of your lips, and he simpers back. Plus, I can’t stay mad at you.

Your eyebrows raise, an equivocal gaze clouding your eyes as you glance over to Haruhi and the twins. I doubt you can stay mad at her.

He straightens his back as a blush rises to his cheeks as Haruhi’s skirt swishes with her movements as the rest of the hosts make their way to the dinner table. She sits down next to him, a challenging look on her face as she spies on him from the corner of her eye.

Tamaki narrows his gaze and turns back to face you, a sigh rolling through his lungs. We’ll see.

The twins pull out a chair and sit, Kaoru to your right and Hikaru to his. After everyone gets situated, plates are filled with delicious looking crab legs and side dishes, creating an array of a colorful feast. 

Cracking shells filled the air as no one bothered to speak, the tension of the room encasing your group into a box of crushing glass. Haruhi began to make a pile of empty shells on her plate, sending the prince that sat next to her in a state of disbelief. 

Digging into your own dinner, you look over to your left to see Kyoya still writing, his portion of the catch of the day remaining untouched. 

“You’re not eating?” Your voice raises barely above a whisper, afraid that if you broke the silence, the tenuous glass of tension would come crashing down on you. 

Not even a glance from the megane. You send a pleading glance to your friend across from you, but Tamaki shrugs. Third times the charm?

Putting your cheek in your teeth, you try to get closer, pulling a strategy that has worked before. “What’re you writing about? Can I see?”

You sulk as Kyoya turns away from you, bending the spine of his book so that the pages are fully covered from your view.

Kaoru, having seen the whole thing, gave a wide eyed look to his brother. “Well this is uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, kind of awkward.” Says his twin.

Defeated, you sit back, smiling weakly as Kaoru puts a few extra crab legs from his plate onto yours. 

Pleasured grumbles interrupt your self-pity as you and the twins look across the table to see Haruhi demolishing crab legs. Everytime she opened her mouth, she made an ‘ah’ sound, a blush coming onto her cheeks as she relished in the seafood taste. 

“Oh my god,” bits of crab fall onto the corner of her mouth as she groans. “These crabs…taste in-crab-ible.” A cute, muffled chuckle escapes out of her full mouth as her stack of crab shells continues to grow. “Get it?”

Tamaki is caught in the splash zone, shells and crab crumbs being tossed into his space as he sits next to her. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough? Geez, Haruhi, give it a rest.”

“Hm?” Her sarcastic tone goes up in pitch as she fills her stomach with more crustaceans. “I thought you weren’t speaking to me.”

A tick appears inside the veins of Tamaki’s forehead as he grumbles. “You trying to be cute?”

Haruhi just shoots him a victorious side eye, taking another huge bite of her food. 

Something broke inside the prince and he sighed harshly, slamming his napkin on the table as he rose. “Okay, fine. I get it. It seems you refuse to admit that you were wrong.”

He pushes out his chair, putting his hands in his pockets. “See if I care then, I’m going to bed. Kyoya?”

A voice that must’ve been foreign to you by now sounds a hum as Kyoya stops his writing immediately, giving all of his attention to Tamaki. 

“Will you show me to my room, please?”

“With pleasure.” Kyoya then stands, an aura of nonchalance cascading into your space as he slides by you. “Excuse me, everyone.”

An air of ice surrounds you as Kyoya doesn’t give you a sparing glance, his cold shoulder sending a shiver down your spine while he and Tamaki walk out of the dining room, the large doors closing behind them. 

Haruhi’s confidence dissipates as she watches her prince leave the room. Swallowing her food, she sadly cracks a new crab leg, the overconfident display now being replaced by a sincere realization. 

“Maybe he’s right. Maybe I should learn to protect myself.”

Looking towards Mori, you share her sentiment. “Yeah, it might be a good idea.” You say, relaxing into your seat. 

Hikaru and Kaoru reflect each other as they put their heads in their hands, giving the both of you empathetic glances. “So that’s it, they got to you, huh?”

Nodding, you look down. “Kyoya can be cold, sure, but he’s never just ignored my existence. Maybe I could take a class or something, I don’t know.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to learn martial arts…” Haruhi thinks out loud, now only picking at the food she had been devouring moments ago. 

“But that’s not the real issue here.” The twins say, folding their arms onto the table.

“To be honest, we were all a little worried about how recklessly you two acted.”

Looking up from your plate, you and Haruhi both shoot Hikaru a confused glance. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, bending around Kaoru to mee Hikaru’s gaze. “We didn’t cause you guys any trouble or anything.”

“Are you serious right now?” Kaoru asks, giving you a disbelieving look.

“Yeah, I mean you guys didn’t have to sprint up a cliff to help (Y/n) and fix my mistakes,” Haruhi reasons. “So you guys were fine, right?”

“That’s not true, Haru-chan.” Honey kneels on to the seat of his chair, his palms resting on the table as leans forward. “I think you guys should apologize, kay?”

“We were all worried, of course, but Kyoya-senpai and the Boss almost had a heart attack.” Kaoru says, speaking with his hands as he waves his fork around.

“We think you need to apologize to them the most. Both of you.” Hikaru states, the hand under his chin moving to support his cheek. 

“But you were worried about us?” The twins looked to their side to see your eyes switching between the both of them. “But why?”

That earns you a deadpanned look from the brothers before Hikaru drops his head on the back of his chair, and Kaoru rests his head on your shoulder with a whine. “You’re both hopeless.”

A small chuckle rises out of you as you rest your head on top of the sneaky twin’s, your mind flashing through the previous events. 

Stubbornly, you knew that you had done the right thing, and that you would’ve made the same choice if you were given a second chance. 

But then you imagined the boy on your shoulder being grabbed by his shirt, hung over the edge of a cliff reaching higher than you thought it could reach, and your gut twisted. Then the image flashed to where Honey was held and Mori was running after him, or Hikaru, then Tamaki.

Then Kyoya. And you immediately understood their worry.

Swallowing wetly, you took a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry you guys.”

The twins raise their brow in surprise, and when Haruhi voices her apology too, it melts into a content simper. 

“Awe, come here you little runt.” Somehow pulling you and Haruhi out of your chairs and into their arms, the hosts embrace you in a tight group hug. 

“Don’t get all soft on us now, (Y/n).” The twins say as Honey rubs his cheek against a smiling Haruhi. You laugh and push them off, just in time to see the natural type’s face fall as her color disappears.

Hikaru notices immediately, holding her side. “Is something wrong?”

Haruhi’s stomach makes a concerning gurgle. “I don’t feel so good.”

And that was how Haruhi ended up in your bathroom, heaving her guts out in your toilet. 

You’re sat on your bed as you hear the toilet flush, looking out one of the massive windows in the room as the moonlight lets itself in. 

The light from your bathroom seeps into the space as Haruhi walks out, weakly falling onto your bed with a light thud. There’s a beat of silence as she flips over, both of you lost in your own thoughts.

“We kind of fucked up, huh?” You joke, still looking out at the ocean as it calmly waved against the shoreline. 

“Yeah. We did.”

“Who do you think we should apologize to first?” You ask, meeting her eye line as she continues to focus on the popcorn ceiling. 

She just shrugs, at a loss for the next step. “Should we go together? Or one at a time?” 

“Probably one at a time. I’ll go to one, and you go to the other, and then we can just switch.” Sheepishly, you sigh. “Besides, I think that I have a little more to apologize for.”

“It could’ve been either of us, (Y/n).” Her low voice echoes off the walls. “If you had run in front of me, it would’ve been me who would’ve gotten thrown over.” 

Another small silence blankets over you before you nodded your head sharply. “If we’re gonna do this, we gotta do it now.”

Haruhi props herself up on her elbows as she watches you push off the bed, an air of confidence surrounding you. “Now?”

“Now.” You stop in the mirror, checking yourself over to make sure you are presentable. “We will get the hard ones out of the way. You apologize to Tamaki, and I’ll apologize to Kyoya.”

“You sure you’re not rushing into things?”

“Nope! Just gotta get it over with.” Head held high, you walk out the door with Haruhi on your heels, picking up the first aid kit so you could return it to its owner.

You and Haruhi walk from your door to the end of the hallway, a lavender rose on one and a red rose on the other. Stopping in front of your respective hosts doors, you each raise a fist, preparing to knock. 

“Ready?” You ask.

“Ready.” She sounds confident, affirming. 

Then each of you turn around and switch places, losing gusto as you walk into Tamaki’s room. 

Knocking softly as Haruhi enter’s Kyoya’s room, you step into the prince’s chambers, searching for the signature strands of blonde hair. 

He jumps from his corner, the phone to his ear tumbling out of his grasp as you spook him with your entrance. Blowing out a breath, Tamaki runs a hand through his hair, tuning back into his conversation. 

“Yes, Grandmother.” Your heart sinks as his tone loses the flamboyant flair you had come to enjoy. “I understand. Goodnight.”

Hanging up the phone, he turns back to you as he hangs up the phone. With a hand on his hip, your regular scheduled Tamaki is up and running, an exaggerated frown on his face. “You can’t just barge into a man’s room like that, mon ami! Think of your manners!”

Looking down, your fingers tighten on the med kit in your hands. You chuckle at his words, but it quickly quiets when you remember what you came in here to do.

Since you chickened out of one apology, the least you could do was try to get through this one. 

Raising your eyes to meet his, blonde eyebrows rise as he senses utter sincerity in your gaze

“Tamaki, I’m so sorry for making you worry.” Earnest honesty blends into your words as you pour your apologies out to him. “Everything happened so fast, and I wasn’t thinking straight when I saw those men try to take advantage of those girls. I just got so mad, ya know? No one deserves to be treated like that.”

Tamaki parts his mouth, but sees that you have more to say, and closes it.

“Haruhi and I tried to run, but they caught the back of my shirt – well, it was Kyoya’s shirt because he let me borrow it earlier today – and I was forced into a fight or flight mode.”

“And you chose to fight.” The prince’s hands pocketed themselves into his jeans. 

Nodding, your actions became a little frenzied. “I wasn’t going to be helpless again, not like that time in the dressing rooms during the physical exam. I can take care of myself, and I wanted him to know it. I wanted him to know I am strong and independent and I wasn’t going to let them do whatever they wanted to me.”

An annoyed sigh shot out of you as the moments on that cliff replayed in your mind. “But one of the guy’s had a knife!” You gesture to your leg. “And it all got out of hand so quickly that it seemed like I blinked and all of a sudden I was being held over an endless sea. I was stupid, and reckless, but I just wanted to help and save them, save myself that I completely–”

Your face collided with a shirt, soft and lavender-scented as your best friend embraced you. Your rapid heartbeat echoed against the close proximity of his chest before it slowed, and you breathed as you wrapped your arms around him. It was a tight embrace as one of your palms grabbed onto the cloth of his button down like a lifeline while the other pressed the med kit into his back.

“I’m sorry.” The apology is muffled as you nuzzle against him. 

Pulling back, Tamaki looks down at you with a gentleness only he could provide. He grabs your hand and pulls you to an empty chair. “Here. Sit down.”

Brow furrowing, you sit as the large, red loveseat molds to your tired body, and you fight against your instinct to melt into the cushions. 

Your confusion takes precedence, though, as Tamaki sits on the floor below you, crossing his legs before holding out his hand. “The med kit?”

Once you hand it to him, he pops it open and scans over the supplies. He stretches his hands and cracks some knuckles before shaking them around, as if they had been asleep for hours and he was trying to wake them up. 

“I might not be good at all the medical stuff like Kyoya, but I can clean up a scratch or two.”

A light giggle rolls out of you as an intense look of concentration sculpts into his features. Setting everything he thinks he needs to the side, he opens his palm again. “May I?”

Rolling your eyes, your heart blooms at your friend's gentle touch as he begins to try and fix what you broke, even if that was what you had come here to do in the first place. 

Eventually, Tamaki breaks the silence that had lulled over the two of you as he applies a cleaner to your cut. “That was my grandmother on the phone.” 

Wincing at the medicine bubbling out of the cut, you nod. “I heard. I didn’t know if you wanted to talk about it.”

“There’s not much to say.” In comes another rare instance like the one at the Tiki Bar. An aura of calm maturity takes the prince’s form as he sits in front of you, completely concentrated at the task at hand. “She was angry, like usual.”

“Did she yell at you again?”

His nod twists your heart on its chambers, but his eyes flick up at you to stop you from giving him any pity before going back to the task at hand. “She is an angry woman. She was widowed when she was young and since then has had a pessimistic perspective on life.” A sad sigh escapes him, but he still manages to keep a serene smile on his face. “She is not a woman I will ever completely understand, but I think, for the rest of her life, I will always strive too. While I may never be on her good side, I want to always put my best foot forward and keep my mind open, so that I might see the world through her eyes. Understand what she is dealing with even if I don’t agree with her actions.” His chest shakes with a low laugh. “It seems I’m stuck doing that for all the women in my life.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m telling you I understand.” Tamaki rifles through the bandaids and picks one that must’ve come from some sort of Valentine’s Day collection: shiny, red hearts with a white background. 

He places it gently over the scratch Ren had left you with, running his thumb across it in a loving gesture. “You were put in a terrible situation, and you did the only thing you, (Y/n), are programmed to do. Survive.”

His fingers swim through his hair again, and his violet eyes are swimming with genuine kindness with a hint of concern that you don’t think will ever fade away. “You're always by yourself. Your parents leave you alone in your home enough times, and you learn to depend on only yourself, because no one else has ever stepped up to the plate. You never call any of us for help, even when we are so close, until it’s too late. Until you realize that you pushed yourself too far.”

Leaning up, Tamaki puts his hands on the arms of the chair as he becomes eye-level with you. “I get it now.” A soft smile curls onto his handsome features. “I’m sorry I yelled at you on the beach. You grew up without relying on anyone else.”

Your eyes had gone wide and began to shine as Tamaki stood to his full height and held a hand out to you. “But not anymore. You haven’t been alone for a long time, (Y/n), not since you joined the club. Not since you met me.

Emotion wells up in your throat, making it hard to swallow as you quickly take his palm, jumping into his arms again with vigor. You feel him chuckle against you as he lifts you up in the air for a moment before setting you on the ground, your new band aid twinkling in the moonlight. 

“So, you forgive me?” You say, wiping the small, joyful tears away before he could see. 

“If you can forgive me for comparing you to my grandmother.” 

“I was just going to ignore that. It seemed like you were on a roll there.” 

You both laugh as Tamaki hands you back the med kit. He taps the top of it with his finger. “I think you need to return this.”

A different kind of feeling stuffed your airflow now as you looked out of Tamaki’s open door to the one across the hall, a lavender rose lacing the doorknob. 

“Yeah, yeah I do.” 

Feeling your feet begin to drag across Tamaki’s carpet, you force yourself to feel lighter, invigorated by your friend’s words. “Thank you, Tamaki.” You smile up at him as you pass through his doorway. 

At your grin, Tamaki squeals in his place. “Awe, you’re so cute, mon ami! No need to thank me, no need at all!”

You simper as you flick him on the nose and close the door behind you, taking the treacherous steps towards the Shadow King’s door.

The feeling of your thumping heart began to ring through your frame, but you willed it to calm down. Looking around, you tried to spot Haruhi in her door frame, waiting for you to be done talking with Tamaki so that she could tag in, but it was so late that she might’ve just fallen asleep. You would understand, especially if her conversation with Kyoya was as emotionally taxing as yours was with Tamaki. 

Every nerve stood on end as you raised your hand to knock, but hesitated. Would he be mad if you made so much noise in the middle of the night? Plus, if he had fallen asleep, he wouldn’t just wake up with a simple knock. The man slept like the dead who had turned to stone. 

Your hand hovered over the doorknob, careful of the thorns guarding the purple rose. Did he even want to see you?

The image of his softened gaze as it dropped to your lips and then back to your eyes, shrouded in sunset as Kyoya’s hand gently lifted to your waist filled your mind, and it motivated you to turn the knob. 

You had to salvage this. All he had asked was for you to admit that you had done something wrong, and now you were prepared to do that. It had taken some convincing, but you were ready to set aside your pride. Besides, to endure another moment of his gaze without the touch of softness he saved just for you would be hell compared to a little bruise on your ego. Maybe he will forgive you for waking him up.

You cringe, knowing you’re being way too optimistic.

The door doesn’t creak, the well-oiled hinges of an Ootori household silently as you sneak into Kyoya’s bedroom, barely opening the door a smidge before you see a shadowy blob on Kyoya’s bed.

Squinting your eyes, you struggle to peer into the darkness, and you open the door another centimeter, letting the light of the hallway bring some illumination to the shadows. 

The med kit drops onto the carpet, not a sound adding to the empty soundtrack of this moment. 

Shadows merge and billow before defining into bodies. Haruhi’s pink dress comes into view as the small amount of light grasps onto her form, revealing her as she lays wide-eyed on the bed. Her back sinks into Kyoya’s comforter as she looks up, blinking mildly at the form hovering over her. 

Long tingles of darkness form into a body you admire, the man you adored caging your best friend under him like a predator. His muscles tense as his arms work to hold his body just above her, his naked torso defined in the contrast of the night. 

Haruhi says something you couldn’t possibly hear over the blood pumping through your ears, and you see a smirk curl onto his face as if she said something clever, and Kyoya drags a thumb over his lip. 

The image is burned into your skull as you race back to your bedroom, only a wall separating you and the betrayal next door. 

Haruhi and Kyoya?

Haruhi and Kyoya?

Tears now welled in your eyes as you rushed to the comfort of the bed that wasn’t your bed, in a room that wasn’t your room. 

Fuck! Your mind screams as you shove your face into your pillow, rocking back and forth as the picture of them together keeps flashing behind your eyelids, a persistent roll of film filling in all the areas you didn’t see in the dark. How their bodies must be closer now, closer than you and Kyoya ever were. 

A hiccup escaped as the pressure in your chest tightened. Kyoya’s aversion to physical touch made it so he constantly kept an arms distance from you. Yet here he was, chest to chest with your best friend who you had grown to love like a sister you never had. 

Your fingers dug into the pillow as before you threw it across the room. Yanking the covers over your head, you begged and begged anybody that was listening to turn back time. 

Turn it back to the moment on the beach chair, under the umbrella in the glow of the sunset. Rewind to Kyoya serving you your favorite food with his sleeves rolled up, or the two of you linking fingers on a piano bench, the moonlight cascading down his soft smile effortlessly. 

A hand claps over your mouth to keep any sob from passing through and sounding through the wall, and you realize that even though the ocean was outside your window, you still couldn’t find your breath.

It seems that Kyoya didn’t deserve to win those pictures after all, because the image that still pulses into your vision causes you to sink into darkness. You find a new worst fear as Kyoya’s name echoes into your mind as you become lost. 

Next Time on Lavender Roses!

“I never noticed. Haruhi is perfectly suited to be accepted into an elite all-girl’s school.. And that’s exactly why I can’t let her transfer!”

“But (Y/n)’s been here for years, why does she want to transfer too?!”

A Challenge From Lobelia Girls Academy!

hey there, just wanted to apologize for ruining your day and leaving you in suspense :)

thank you for being so patient, there is always more to come :) comment if you can! i'd love to hear your thoughts.

[lokorum]

Pls rant about non romance cole…he’s my favorite character in anything, ever and it feels so sad that we never got to have a deeper relationship w him. Like the mechanics/possible lore of having a romance with a spirit are so tantalizingly interesting but no…also doubting we will see him in veil guard which leaves me so so broken …

*looks at their pile of unpacked feelings about cole*

so ૮( ◡̀_◡́)ა where to start....................

first of all uh! im not good at talking! that's why i draw phphp but i'll try my best to resurrect my memories from 2014 and share it with you!! sorry if it will sound weird, english is not my native language! 

well WELL from the begining then. i remember spending hours  more like days hhhh thinking about how weird and cool the recruiting scene with cole is? later when he is already with the inquisition, our party is either on guard around him or kinda treats him like he is helpless and needs special attention or guidance or something like that? demonising someone like him or framing them as in need of help are like textbook behavior ofc and im not here to be a hater, i just noticed it? moments with solas and varric fighting over him like a divorced couple are super cute for sure!!

but i remember being confused because excuse me, out of all of them, this guy??, this feral bat that is chilling on the ceiling like it's a lounge-zone inside Lucius' head, created especially for him?

he is confident. also a little bit nervous, a bunch mysterious and just ghostly cool. but also confident. (im not saying this confidence is not misplaced sometimes btw x) he even tells you that if you'll leave your head you'll die! what a jokester (҂ ꒦ິヮ꒦ິ)

and the whole quest with templars and envy are soooo horror coded, i love it!! it looked a bit silly, sure

(even after so many years im not able to get rid of the image in my brain phphphp) 

but it's still a very interesting quest!! dorian is ✨the bestie✨ but i'm always picking templars bc the implications of the story are just so good

1. its placed at the beginning of the game and your character is probably confused and anxious and dont yet worked out the routine of how to deal with their new title\powers + not every inquisitor character would want to be in the spotlight.

imagine you suddenly got yourself into position where a lot of people looking up to you, listening to what you saying, placing their hopes on you or waiting for you to fail? this is terrible! id 1000% just jumped out of a cliff!!! a small one, but still 

2. you meeting the guy who basically came from a place you now have unlimited access to.

he is: a) almost as confused as you are b) possibly came to this world without knowing consequences of that decision c) along the way he is figuring out how to be himself in the environment that is nothing like where he used to live. wow thats just like forced immigration *nervous laugh*

3. and let's not forget that you are meeting him inside your head and you can say to him "you look familiar".

dont know about you but apparently i dont need much to start screaming ¯(ツ)/¯

also can i just spend the moment to say that this is three (3) identical dialogue options??????????

the screenshot is from here btw

how awesome would it be to be able to figure out stuff together? to find comfort in someone, with someone who barely experienced it this way? to build on your strong sides? like "hope" for cole and i guess "unhingedness" for the inquisitor? i bet they would ground each other easily as well: cole distracting inq by being unintentionally mischievous and inq would have a notepad with cole's "firsts ____" or they would just read together. oh im such a sucker for hurt\comfort\some things cant be healed stuff uaaaaaaaaa

ALSO THE "FORGET" THING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the drama the horror the tension!!!!!!!! you can fight me over this but heres the thought:

cole being so stressed that he is erasing\being on the edge of erasing the inquisitor's memories??????

i got the feeling that cole's confidence in the concept of "help" is, among other things, makes him being able to zoom in on something borderline obsessively? or vise versa - dismissively, not noticing "it hurts, its not for the better"? he thanks you when you promise to kill him, he cries when you do not. i swear this man (─ ‿ ─)

+quick addition bc im not entirely sure: so if i got it right, the anchor makes the inquisitor "too bright" to read? so among all the people we know about inq is the one that cole can't truly empathise on this lvl? on spiritual lvl you might say lsdkjflksdjflkj sorry!!!!! but jokes aside,this is like the perfect ground to build both comforting stories 

"someone from the party notices that cole is hanging near inq before inq do, and when asked he explains it by saying something like "dry warm skin. the air is stilled with quiet, easy to breathe. i followed the shining whispers and then i was followed no more" with the most plain face possible? "

and "today for lunch i have glass" kind of stories, like "the inquisitor is cornered and possibly bleeding and probably on the verge of passing out and they know that situation is bad and no one should follow/find them, "it's better to wait it out and deal with it on my own" kind of clown behavior. so they laugh tiredly at how pathetic they are, maybe remembering something similar from their childhood, remarks from their sibling for ex., and just trying their best to not think about how they need cole's help, cole's presence. the sense of safety that comes when he is around" 

uh!!! that wasnt neither quick or painless so i'll go make a tea wait a second please

im back!! so since i talked about the forget thing i must confess - i dont really like cole's personal quest???? again, im not complaining or anything but i remember feeling kinda empty while playing it? like deep inside me, there was something sad, but it was so far away,i coudn't even feel it properly?

both human and spirit versions of his ending made me feel like the distance between you and him lengthened, and maybe you could do something about it before but now? this "something" is missing and you're lost and can't even tell for sure if theres was a chance to do something in the first place? and cole just moved on? its super logical considering he is not a romance option but phphph so, i rarely romance someone in games, partly bc rpg tends to be a little horny and im that kind of ace who is not interested in this, partly bc i tend to pay attention to non-romanceable characters, so when i started to explore last da:i dlc and i saw cole having gf i was like "well ouch".

imagine your inq has a crush on cole but they never were able to say it clearly?

mb it was a melancholic slowburn, and your character was going through too much and felt like burdening cole with their problems would be unfair?

maybe they tried but the timing was wrong, the words felt stupid, and their hands felt too dirty, too guilty?

oh anon its been ten years and its still huuuuuurts!!!! if you following me for a while you know that im an edge lord in poor disguise so its not surprising for neither you or me that i ended up rumbling about inexplicable sadness and crushing existential guilt, but sorry for that anyway!! if anyone would want me to talk about something specific, or to draw something - im here, staring at the wall, listening to cole's banter :') thank you for the wonderful question tho, it was more than just nice to return back to this ship. im so agreeing with you about cole being the fave character from everything, but i also understand that this could mean being very unsatisfied with the way he was portrayed at some points or just with the fact that characters like him are rare so im sending you warm and tight hugs and a little sketch!! <3 

let's collectively accept the fact that dav gonna be a beautiful mess, we gonna love it (passionately), we gonna be hurt by it (not surprisingly) and COLE FOREVER WILL BE THE BEST DA CHARACTER EVER IM NOT GONNA CHANGE MY MIND FIGHT ME