#also shit title i know ill update this when i think of something better!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

memes-and-shit · 4 months ago

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🍁 uhhhhh, you guys can call me Gromit. that's a good-enough fake-name lol i go by they/them pronouns, i am confirmed to be over 18 years old, and that's all my info y'all get ✌️

🍁 i didn't make most of this. or any of it, really. (sometimes, i edit; but i dont consider my edits to be "i made this" bc... i didnt make the core thing i am editing) so, anything you wanna use? no need to credit me. i'd like to see what you make using it, for shits and giggles, but that's not mandatory

🍁 i try to post credit to "the little guys" i make stuff from whenever i can figure out the source

➥ some of this stuff i find second- or third-hand where i have no clue who the "little guy" that made this is; feel free to reblog to add the applicable credit, and (after i do some fact-checking, bc some people online ✨️lie✨️) then i will reblog what you said + alter the original post to now have credit. but multi-million/billion-companies, celebrities, etc?? idgaf, you can VERY easily find out who the source

🍁 most things are on a queue

🍁 i don't do requests, sorry

🍁 here's how you can make your own edits tho??

🍁 some things i edited to have captions (#my edit + #captioned); others, already had captions (just #captioned); only a few videos don't have captions (#uncaptioned)

🍁 i tag based on what my Reactions Folder's sub-folders were. thats how i organize. idc about attention; meaning, 99% of the time, idc about tagging "correctly", so it crops up under the "correct" "tumblr tag-pages"-or-whatever-theyre-called

🍁 organizational tags i use below "read more". below that are some statements too

➥ said statements table-of-contents: about helping me credit the little guys [[titled: "sources psa"]] 🍁 my opinions on when to credit an editor and whatnot, and when i will/won't credit another editor (which does explain why idgaf about y'all not crediting me when i do edits lmao) [[titled: "a potential controversy"]] 🍁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏post-topic tags

#off theme

➥ (aka: these posts are not "memes & shit"; probably me posting a life-update or similar? idk)

#masterlist series

➥ (aka: anything i think is a mini-series of "things i have posted". i will VERY rarely do these, stuff's gotta be hyper-specific for me to feel like a masterlist is warranted. like. the first one of these i made was not just a Kylee Henke masterlist series, but a Kylee Henke's Zoobe Bunny Excerpt-Videos masterlist series. like i said, shit's got to be hyper-specific. if i made one for everything and everyone, i would get so overwhelmed so quickly, it's better this way, just let it be hyper-specific only lol)

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏post-typage tags

#my edit

➥ (aka: these are posts i "made", or at least did something to (eg. adding captions). these are like "the templates")

#my customization

➥ (aka: me applying an example of how to use "the templates". usually is from my irl life of me using these @my loved ones, and i post them here bc im a little bit too attached to wanna delete said customization entirely 👉👈🥺)

#captioned, #uncaptioned

#video

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏additional tags: my "esp for" tags

➥ (aka: the post is esp, or "especially", useful for these groups)

#esp for writers and i.f. creators

➥ (aka: posts will be applicable about writing, about discussing fictional characters, and so on)

#esp for artists

➥ (aka: posts will be applicable about doing art (the "art" in question primarily being drawing), and so on)

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏my Reaction Folders' titles ➡ now tags

my aforementioned Reactions Folders' titles:

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏sources psa

expect these to be the least consistent thing i do, ever, but sure, ill add them sometimes, i guess, when i remember/know who the source is. more likely the aforementioned "little guys" than anybody else tho, ngl. but said little guys will get credit either within the post and/or within the image/video itself; and if i forget to also tag said credit, i think that's fine. i'll still try to do it, even though i know ill be inconsistent and forgetful the little guys and big guys, but also shhhhhhh if i forget. i'm doing my best, just let my mistakes go, let it be inconsistent

➥ but also do feel free to reblog the post (if it's an aforementioned "little guy" ESPECIALLY) and help source credit! (➡ note, for said lil guys, i will fact-check at MY leisure, assuming i see your reblog notif to begin with. and if i see that your sourcing is correct: ill reblog your addition AND edit the og post. just. do me the common decency of not insulting me for forgetting to source/not knowing who to source, whichever lol

bc i do have understandable reasons for not always knowing who to source?? bc a lot of these are videos i got from tiktok accounts, tumblr posts, and other websites where the "op" of said item?? was NOT the actual original poster, and did not source the people/person/etc within the item. ans now idk who to credit too lmao rip

● which, for artists and editors-whose-edits-are-NOT-simple-edits you can tell bc that item did not match the style/s already attached to their account, and didnt say something like "trying a new style!" or whatever in the bio or comments or something. idk. people who never can "stick to one style" still have a general large encompassing area they still to, ive never gotten a "i dont really have an art-/editing-style" person confused with an art-/editing-thief. and im one of those people who constantly change up their art/edits/writing/aesthetic/etc ("idk what exact box i fit into. im just me"), which i think? maybe helps me??? on figuring out if someone is a thief or is just inconsistent/experimenting/"just being me"/whatever?? but yeah! an art-thief especially, and oftentimes also edit-thieves, tend to be pretty obvious they are a thief. even if the comments have not already caught on. bc sometimes youll see a comment outright saying "you stole this from xyz" or "you traced xyz's art/you copied xyz's edit" but not always

● several others? especially ones that were videos of irl people?? i always check out the account and, MANY times have went "..okay this account is just a compilation of memes/jokes/etc, idk. but its VERY safe to assume they are definitely reposting and are NOT the irl person in the video". the person/people in this video assumedly are unaware their video of them being a silly lil goofball they posted on their personal account is here, on an account that compiles memes and funny videos. (bc its VERY rare that an account focused on humor will post content that reveals their face and/or their loved one/s. so. safe to assume it isn't theirs.) and i do want to find the original personal account this image/video in question came from, so i do look. there's a very small margin of error where, if a video looks really old, i wont look tho bc i assume the original account it was posted on is gone and, if it really looks old enough or like enough of "that type of oops funny thing was improv'ed" gag that i think maybe it was on "America's Funniest Home Videos" or a similar clip-show on cable?? ill admit, those ones, i dont try. but if it's like "this obviously friends trying to do a silly trend on tiktok"?? yeah, of course, i look for the account that came from, absolutely. but yeah, that's the usual spectrum for those types. i rarely find, much less keep, videos i can see landing on those "America's Funniest Home Video" type of clip-shows. so, really, the only "danger" there is for being a new video featuring irl people who idk? to go uncredited AND be a rare case where i didn't even try to look for the original account?? is, again, if the low-resolution and content of the video makes me think the video is old enough to where searching would be pointless. to which i then ask, fam? why the fuck is the resolution so bad that i thought this was maybe uploaded to Vine or MySpace (or MAYBE even was a VHS mailed to early-EARLY "AFHV"? lmao imagine), the fuck lol???? but whatever, nobody's perfect, i think you can grant me this kind of margin of error if my anxiety is already willing to grant it lmao

which, ill fully admit. i care about crediting these people for my own self-interests. like, sure, i do it in no small part bc it's the nice and kind thing to at least TRY to do. but also?? i do care about ensuring that person gets a shout-out bc of my anxiety catastrophisizing the hypothetical of a post of mine blowing up and inducing me to feel massive guilt from the fact that i didnt give credit to the people who actually made the item in question so they could also share in the attention of virality. so like. i dont assume ill go viral?? i WORRY ill go viral lmao if? that?? makes sense? which. i have trauma that i know would make me hate even a quarter-of-the-way viral levels of attention would imply. and i feel like, if this account was to ever go viral (god forbid. gatekeep me. dont let it happen lol there's a significant chance i might abandon this account if that happens), i feel like one thing that would basically be destined to happen is i would get chronically-online people criticizing me for not crediting my sources and riding on other people's hard-work. which like. i know they would do anyway since im not perfect at crediting. but if i didnt even TRY, that would hurt differently in a way that'd fuck me up. never know who could be the next hypothetical Cinderella story, like how Kombucha-Girl became the p fucking famous Britney Broski (regardless on your or my own feelings on Britney Broski, she did get her fame from a jokey meme that totally changed her life). give people their credit. like. i am also doing it to be nice and kind, sure! but know that even if i felt exhausted of all my nicities and kind inklings somehow on some certain day?? my anxiety would still demand i at least TRY to find the source. like. anytime you see NO credit?? ANYWHERE??? know the day i found the image/video, i probably spent a good chunk of time between 15 to 45 minutes, out of niceness and kindness and also to appease my anxiety, trying to find the source before calling it quits and saying "at least i tried" (aforementioned exceptions and/or margin of error notwithstanding lol)

which, with everyone where i have TRIED to see if i could reverse-image-source the item?? ive had mixed results from that. sometimes, i found them; sometimes, i didn't. but feel free to try again for me. you might get the correct result a lot quicker than me!

("wha—? h- how.. would i?? get the correct result...? quicker than you...??")

well. my information im about to share with you could be outdated or incomplete, so take this with a grain of salt. but i remember in elementary school how my teacher told our class that google alters the search-results per [insert IP or whatever the technical term she said that ive forgotten is] depending on the history of searches. she told us this so that "if you can't find the answer you need, it doesn't mean you're stupid. ask a friend to check their search-results and find the answer together! it might just be google being picky about what words (or i guess the equivalent would be which frame you chose to screenshot in your and my case, since i dont think an image-file itself being uploaded could result in pickiness) you decided to use, or perhaps it's results are biasedly influenced by what the AI has learned about your family through your families' collective internet search-history". which was basically her sly way of telling us to not depend on the first results we find, or even the first page of results, but to be critical of our sources in their credibility and whatnot. so, the way i understood what she meant was via an example she proceeded to give us that went SOMETHING(?) like this:

(🅰️) a kid whose parent is a professor with a doctorate who brings work home often, meaning they use the family-wifi to research academic studies. when that kid googles "teach me about pyramids"? their results may be extremely well-regarded articles about the Egyptian pyramids (such as the New York Times), peer-reviewed journals about the Egyptian tombs history, Khan Academy and other very good mathematical sources to help you understand how pyramids work within geometry, a released study-guide of various pyramids' formulas (relating to geometry) from Harvard's math-degree program, and much more. a very good foundation for their Egyptian pyramid report for class, and the math could help with that research in breaking down those pyramids dimensions in that report which could give that student an interesting angle that puts their report from an "A" status to an "A+" status, especially if their parent can help them plug in the right numbers into the relevant formulas! very helpful

vs. (🅱️) a kid whose parent works in accounting and taxes, who strives for a healthy work-life balance of never bring work home as often as possible. as a result, the parent uses the family wifi to play pseudo-gambling-with-fake-money apps on their phones more than anything else, to de-compress and de-stress. when that kid googles "teach me about the pyramids"? their results will include some articles about the Egyptian pyramids, but maybe not as credibly-sourced since the [insert IP or whatever it was called again] with this family's wifi isn't used to finding online resources of academic credibility. in fact, the student might get confused since a lot of results might be influenced by those pseudo-gambling phone-apps, and be showing the child information about Las Vegas's pyramids. which. isn't what the report is about. and due to this parent likely having to still bring work home sometimes, like during tax season or other stressful crunch-times, there might be way more math results about pyramids (geometry) than about the Egyptian pyramids. but accountants don't use geometry in their work, they use more basic arithmetic and algebra. so the formulas about the pyramids (geomtry) here would only talk about the pyramids of Egypt as part of the word-problems. so even if the parent was to also have the availability to help the kid plug in the accurate applicable numbers into the formula? those formulas are more likely to be not give a full picture of how to calculate the Egyptian pyramids' size and dimensions. and that's if the kid has the right numbers written down as they might have the dimensions for those Las Vegas pyramids instead, and feels inspired by these online results to even try to do this math (as the lack of "training the computer" to look for reliable articles means these word-problem results are more likely to be blank homework page examples, but could also include walk-throughs here and there like the Kid-A recieved plenty of). but those Egyptian pyramid articles, the most important part of this whole paper, are ALSO more likely to be from less reliable sources with perhaps incorrect information (bc people online like to lie. bc it is fun. but also sometimes people online think they are right when they actually fundamentally misunderstand something), like maybe Kid-B sees enough articles by conspiracy theorists on those unreliable websites that Kid-B thinks "aliens built the Egyptian pyramids" is a more seriously considered and debated topic of academic discussion than it is (which.. it's not. that actually has gotten the famous "Aleins" History Channel Meme Guy fired from his job bc his outspoken belief in this theory cpuld have risked his university's reputation and accreditation. so. yeah, no, Kid-B, those are not academic articles). overall, unless either the parent or Kid-B themselves catches that Kid-B has to sort through a lot more "proverbial litter" to find good, ACTUALLY academic, and ACTUALLY reliable sources of information about the Egyptian pyramids and Egypt's history, Kid-B could fail their report. even if they spent just as long on research and worked just as hard as Kid-A, all bc Kid-B was ignorant to their digital disadvantages and Kid-A unknowingly advantaged. all bc of that [thing with IP or AI or whatever it was called] and what it had learned from the family wifi what the assumed interests of its users would be. a feature no kid could easily turn off/on

which worked at making the kids in our class write down these Definitively Reliable Websites where we could search for accredited articles and peer-reviewed sources. i dont remember what they were back then, we were only in 5th or 4th grade. but it was a great lesson to be taught, im frankly shocked and a bit appalled that more kids were not taught this kind of syuff when teachers are first helping students learn how to research. everyone NOT from that class (even kids who did go to the same elementary school, but jusy did not have that teacher) all have been shocked as i am usually the first one to tell people about how, yeah, that's an aspect of how many (if not all) search-engines work

anyway. the information stuck with all of us from that class, as far as i can tell (a lot of us in that class attended the same middle and high school. like. at least 40% of us, if not a LOT more. so there was a rare time or two where id talk about this and i wouldn't be The First Person To Ever Tell Someone This Search-Engine Info. and every time it was bc the peer in question i just told would go "oh! yeah, i remember [insert name of other kid that i shared that elementary teacher with] said the same to me, like, last year!" or something. but that WAS rare so idk), or at least it always stuck with me. and i was one of the luckier kids who didn't NEED to know the info! and it still has stuck with me all these years later, even the examples of Kid-A and Kid-B!! like! i was on Kid-A's side of the spectrum WAY more than i was to Kid-B's side of the spectrum. my family definitely "trained the computer" in a way i got massive benefits from. like im talking i either was 100% Kid-A, 0% Kid-B or else i was a very minimal mix like maybe 93% Kid-A, 07% Kid-B levels of "minimal". yet still, whenever i find i distrust the google results on my phone, if im next to a friend, ill ask them to google the same thing i did to see if their first page of results looks better than mine and very often we DO get different search results! so!! even if i dont get how that works, that teacher was still right!

brief tangent: im convinced this is how some of my friends that are girls who do the whole "i can stalk your would-be-date like a Private Eye and find out information down to a C.I.A. level about if this person is worthy of being assumed to be trustworthy or not" benefit from this. like they themsleves have trained their phones (with their own dates and friends' dates and even co-workers/other acquantices' dates) or something to be AWESOME and THAT FAST at pulling up the results most likely to give them all of this stranger's private info. it's wild

anyway, screenshot or download the png or jpeg or whatever (or screenshot a frame from a video) to try to find the source if you think the lack of credit on the post implies i cant find it (bc it's either that or i forgot. which. "forgot" could mean "i have the source but didnt realize i didnt put it in the post" OR "i once had the source but now forgot who to credit this to and can't find them, oh no". so. good chance i likely need help even if it was an "oh, i forgot" type of mistake). you may have a better trained [whatever the tech is, if not IP, idk] than me at reverse-image-searching to find the people and/or company the item in question is originally from. who knows. go give it a try! what's the worst that could happen? lol

but yeah, when the source is obviously. like. Walt Disney Studios or like Pixar or Warner Brothers or RDJ or Nicholas Cage or whoever the fuck then like?? i didn't put credit bc they don't need the shout-out, you very well probably recognize the actor/studio/product they are in if it's something real mainstream that tou onlt know bc of pop culture osmosis, they got millions or billions of money as pocket-change, im not stressing myself out with crediting EVERYONE since crediting "everyone" doesn't affect "everyone" equally. im only worried about the people who not getting a shout-out could potentially very negatively affect (aka: the little guys). im not gonna stress about "the big guys" lol they're rich, they're easy to find, they're fine lmao

if you DO need help finding the source from "a big guy" that i posted about, just go @ me in a post and ask (or, hell, reblog the post that came from me and @ me in the said reblog. you can delete it after i answer you). i know i have Asks/Submits/Replies/etc turned off. (its bc i dont want to be accessible to everyone ever all the time lmao that feels stressful. so this One Public Avenue being the only way you could ask me means you gotta REALLY wanna know in order to get a hold of me). i do ask y'all don't do it for "a little guy" bc ill probably ignore you if i already tried to find said little guy and am ashamed that my labor was in vain (but if i do know the source for sure, like i still fully remember their info— and just simply forgot to credit said lil guy, then ill absolutely reply to you and edit the og post). know i check this blog VERY infrequently and may genuinely miss your question or answer it A LONG TIME after you @'ed me. so like. dont get mad if i take forever to reply?? or never reply? nobody wants to help someone who is entitled and gets mad at someone else for [not wanting to reply/didn't know they had something to reply to/took a long time to reply to but did reply]. mad or passive-aggressive. ive blocked people for less lol but yeah. just be polite to strangers, in general, of course, but also to strangers in predicaments like mine who have lives that take priority outside of a meme-y joke-y sideblog lol

to reiterate: feel free (but no pressure) to help if and when you can if you notice there was no credit for a lil guy on my blog pls? thanks 🫶

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏a potential controversy

i think my lines with who i decide to credit and who i dont are overall pretty clear. and i think it helps that, the way i see it, im not a hypocrite about my ideas of who to credit and who not to: bc things do get dicey when it comes to crediting people with small edits. yet i also dont insist on any credit for any of my own edits, bc i also see my edits as p fucking small. which might get SOME people mad on principle should they disagree with my overall perspective. regardless, this bit here will VERY likely be my one and only statement about it

but i do fully admit i dont quite know THE qualative line exactly? but let's establish what i mean via examples. if an account is posting a clip-compilation of "Digital Circus" and they did a "all the times Jax was sassy for 3 minutes" or something, meaning they did splice and edit this compilation together (that is one chunk of editing they did in of itself). but then they also added tiny edits, like i know its common for tiktok funny-scene-compilation-editors to have one the said simple edits just be a "🙄😒" next the character rolling their eyes (in this case, Jax). in my mind?? even tho this editor did add these kind of very minimal additions to the content at hand? and im just profiting off of the convenience of "oH YEAH, i wanted this scene clipped to use for reactions/memes! i just was putting it off bc i didnt know its time-stamp" and i use any clips, those with "🙄😒" edits and otherwise, where the most editing *i* then do afterwards is like add captions? i still see that as "the source belongs to 'Digital Circus' as there were no significant edits done to alter the material". i'm not crediting the editor that i benefited from the clip-compilation of. that's part of why i also walk what i talk in saying "if i subtitled or edited additionally to anything on this blog? you do not have to credit me. i barely did anything. i just added text, maybe with some effects done to said text to reflect volume/tone/pitch or whatever, and maybe a couple emojis/pictures were overlayed. that's nothing. i try to caption most things for accessibility. and sometimes i feel like being a goofball and i add other things ontop of it. bur nothing worthy of crediting me". bc, in the case of my edits and other people's similarly small edits? is the gag 10 times out of 10 is all still on the original content. but we start talking about an edit as in someone made an AMV?? (as in they had to splice in time to the music and maybe did other edits in addition to elevate the AMV. not as in "look, i put music behind this otherwise unedited clip" lol) or someone heavily edited this non-AMV clip of Jax to have, idk, silly meme-y circus-music ontop of having done manips of a rainbow clown wig and nose to follow his every head-motion and then ALSO did the classic DUN-meme-sound reverberation with camera-shake and black-white filter after Jax's dumbest expressions or lines?? that. that is SO MUCH editing and definitely changes the clip to where i am absolutely sourcing both "Digital Circus" and that editor. both of the AMV and circus-Jax

so, again, idk exactly where the qualitative line is. but i do have one where i refuse to fuck over people who have edited the original content to the point that now the audience is there for this person's editing skills, and not bc of the original content within the clip/s used. does that make sense?? i hope that makes sense. this is my one and only statement im gonna make about it anyway lol i think my reasoning is sound. if your content is heavily relient on the original content being as unedited as possible but you just added a few things on the "🙄😒"-level to be a goofball? keep doing what you're doing, im not going to yuck your yum (especially since i am identical to you and i also love to add a bit of razzle-dazzle lol). but im not going to credit you, the credit goes to the people who made the said original content that this "🙄😒"-and-adjacent-edits dont alter or anything. it's still like 90% the original show's clip?? come on lmao you and i can both live without the credit. feel free to take my edits and add them to your account "so i see how it feels". it's still almost entirely the original show, so ive made my peace with rarely/never getting credit for my small edits or subtitles bc like.. it's still 90% the original show??? i did basically nothing. i just had fun, have a clip i can throw into discord or a text-conversation for a tee-hee with my loved one, and have given other people permission to benefit from this side-blog's collection and possible captioning. again, come on lol the editors who actually changed the content so much with their skills that, other than that they used the original show like a collage artist benefits from magazines and whatnot, they've DEFINITELY changed more than 90% of the content to the point that their viewers are having a different experience with this editor than they would be watching the original show or its clips. come on lmao

#off theme

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footbaliimagines · 8 years ago

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annoying (a fernando torres imagine)

based on #16 from this post

“He’s a dickhead, Elle! Leave him! Fuck him right off, the snotty little prick!” You yell.

Fernando rushes into the bedroom. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

You throw your head back dramatically onto the pillow and groan. “No.”

Concerned, he rushes to your side and looks at you intently. “Are you alright? What’s happened?”.

“Elle can’t see that Warner’s being a twat to her. And it makes me so mad!” You gesture wildly at the television screen, where Legally Blonde is now paused.

His eyes soften and he smiles, fighting back a bigger grin. “Are you projecting your life onto Legally Blonde again?”

“No.” You mumble stubbornly.

“You’re my best friend, idiot, you know you can talk to me.” Fernando laughs, before gesturing at you to move over and scooching into the space next to you. “Plus, you’re a terrible liar. Spill.”

“I’m fine. Honest. Can’t even remember his stupid double-barrelled surname.”

(You definitely could. But Fernando didn’t need to know that.)

Your boyfriend had dumped you after a rather disastrous meeting with his parents, telling you in a quiet, almost condescending voice that they just didn’t think you were a good fit.

(Aka, you hadn’t gone to private school and were currently a part-time student, part-time waitress.)

(Snobby dickheads.)

“He’s a prick.” Fernando stretches and rests an arm around you, and you nestle into the crook of his arm. “Honestly. You’re way too good for him.”

“You have to say that. You’re my best friend.”

He lets out a light, airy chuckle, “Trust me, being your best friend does not mean that you’re totally immune to criticism.”

“Oh, really? Go ahead, then.” You pause your Netflix and sit up to face him.

He’s grinning, a sparkle in his eyes, and his hair is still slightly damp from the shower he took at training. Fernando’s an attractive man, without a doubt. You sometimes forget that, considering you’ve known each other for virtually your whole life.

(It almost reminds you of the ridiculously massive crush you had on him for the first 7 or 8 years of your friendship.)

“Go ahead and do what? Criticise you?” He chuckles. “No thanks. I’d like to reach at least middle age. That won’t happen if you kill me first.”

You laugh, “Go on, I won’t kill you. Promise! What do I do that’s so annoying, then, Torres?”

“You leave the tap on when you brush your teeth, which is completely inconsiderate towards the environment, you’re ridiculously last minute and it stresses me out to no end. Plus, you’re getting crumbs all over my bed and I changed my sheets about 24 hours ago, so thanks.” Fernando rattles off, counting on his fingers, and as soon as you open your mouth to disagree he puts up a finger. “The most annoying thing of all, though, is that you criticise yourself far too much. You’re beautiful, and funny and kind and any guy on this entire bloody planet would be lucky to be with you, okay? Don’t be so self-deprecating. It’s annoying. Probably the most annoying thing about you.”

You swallow, kind of thankful that you didn’t interrupt him earlier, and feel your face burn up. It makes you feel like that lovesick 15 year-old all over again, and for once, for the first time in years, you don’t necessarily hate the feeling. Fernando’s face is mirroring yours, flushing bright fuchsia. “I should go. Antoine’s waiting and I’m probably already late.” He leaps to his feet, untangling his arm from yours at lightning speed. “See you later.”

“Fernando, wait-“

“Sorry, I really need to go.” He rambles. “But um, I just want you to know-“

“Hm?”

“I meant what I said. Every word.”

A.N.: dun dun duuuuuuuun cliifhanger ending (not really) i can write a second part if you guys want it!! hope you liked it and the rest of the drabbles should be up soon!! (i have like 8 to do left haha so patience will be key) x

#my writing #drabbles #fernando torres #fernando torres imagine #fernando torres fanfiction #football imagine #footballer imagine #football fanfiction #also shit title i know ill update this when i think of something better!!!

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boldlyvoid · 3 years ago

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ain't it fun? | part 4

Summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

Warnings: chronic illness, hurt/comfort, drug use**! spencer and reader smoke weed together; talks of relapse and recovery. Also, a case involving child abductions, getting engaged, love confessions

word count: 2.4k

a/n: not sure how long this is going to keep getting but I am enjoying adding to it

P1 P2 P3

Days like today suck.

She can’t get out of bed, she’s so hungry her stomach is swirling and screaming and there’s a pain in her intestines that feels like someone is eating her from the inside out but she can’t move… and she has to pee but her legs hurt and her head is pounding from the light. It’s 6 am according to the alarm clock, Spencer hasn’t left for work yet and she’s already missing him.

She manages to make it to the bathroom, sitting there for too long after because she can’t find the courage to stand back up.

“Why?” She whispers to herself before the tears start.

Covering her face as she cries, she’s still sitting on the toilet with her underwear around her ankles, sobbing as Spencer walks in.

He helps her up without asking, he’s seen too many bad mornings now to ask if she needs help, he just knows she wants to go back to bed, so he fixes her underwear and picks her up.

When he finally lays her down with all her pillows, he lowers the temperature in the room to relax her bones and gets her a ginger ale to help with the nausea from the pain she’s in. It is a regular occurrence for her to wake up and feel like she’s dying, but Spencer was wonderful when dealing with it.

He’s in the kitchen for a while, she’s worried he’s making something for her to eat that she’ll have to lovingly turn away because she can’t do it right now. Her throat is too tight and it hurts to swallow or talk.

She can hear him talking… he’s on the phone with someone.

When he comes back in, he cuddles into her the way he knows she likes. Soothing his hands over her back in a way that helps the pain while also helping her feel like she’s not alone in all of this. He’ll never understand; but he loves her, so a part of him feels it too.

“You called out?” She whispers against his chest.

He nods, his cheek resting on the top of her head as she feels the friction. “I don’t feel good when you don’t feel good.”

“I’m sorry you had to help.”

He’s told her time and time again that he doesn’t mind.

He would kill for her, he’d clean up the mess if she killed someone. He’d even dig the fucking grave if she needed him too… he wasn’t opposed to being there for her no matter what that entailed.

She just hated the fact he had to, he knew her apology came from her hatred of herself and not the fact she felt sorry for him. She loved the help, it made her feel loved until she felt disappointed in herself for needing it.

“Do you want your medicine?”

She smiles finally, “if you mean my secret joint stash— yes, but if you can’t handle being around me like that, then I don’t need it today.”

“I think I’d like to try it,” Spencer whispers. “If you can smoke weed and not relapse then I think I can too?”

“Probably, but if you can’t, I’ll support you however you need me to?” She smiles up at him, he kisses the tip of her nose as she kisses his chin.

Getting high with Spencer is… interesting to say the least. He doesn’t want a full hit, he just wants a taste and so she takes a drag and blows the smoke from her lungs to his. Sharing a part of themselves in a way they never expected before, this is his most vulnerable moment and he was trusting her with it.

The sunshine hits his face in such a perfect way that as they lay side by side, she can watch his pupil devour his iris as he gets high. Their breathing is steady and their fingers are interlocked. They’re content just blinking together, in the sunshine, quiet. In love.

Her body is so calm, and her mind is slow as she takes it all in and he looks so relaxed. He’s not jittery or caffeine-deprived like most mornings; he’s not anxious or stressed or trying to find a way to pretend he’s fine before leaving for work again, only to come home sad.

He’s okay.

She’s okay.

“It's nice,” he whispers, “but it’s not as good as you.”

She smiles, trying not to laugh at how his thoughts are going to be all jumbled for the next few hours. He’s going to be smart yet stupid at the same time and she couldn’t fucking wait to hear all the things he thinks of.

“I know what you mean,” she agrees.

“This is like a tidal wave..." his ramble starts and she is so excited to see where it takes them. "A tsunami that rushes and relieves just as quickly." His eyes are closed as he talks, visualizing his feelings and it makes her giddy.

"You’re like a volcano; there are so many stages before mass destruction, and even then there’s still the ash cloud and the debris and the lava dries like rocks… the destruction is total and the cleanup will be brutal.”

“I’m addicted to you," his eyes are closed as he talks, visualizing his feelings and it makes her giddy. "Drugs are boring and you’re not,” Simplifying his meaning as his eyes open again.

“I love you,” he says with the same certainty as the first time.

“I love you, too, Spencer,” she didn’t think they’d go down this path when she was blowing into his mouth, she expected him to panic or get horny.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really told you how much.”

He shakes his head lightly, “I wouldn’t be opposed to knowing.”

If she thinks it over, she’ll abandon ship before she can tell him, so she just jumps into it.

“I was a little scared to ask you to help me lock my door that first day because I thought you’d think I was just some junky who couldn’t get their shit together. But the second you asked if I had a local group and you helped me; that was the moment I knew I wanted you in my life for forever.”

He smiles, silent so she can keep going. He’ll take his turn when she’s really done.

“And then when we got to talking it was like I knew you already. Like I had your memories in my mind and as you told me things I was like well duh! Yeah, that’s my Spencer! I don’t know how it happened so fast. One minute you’re a stranger and the next you’re the only person I ever want to see for the rest of my entire fucking life,” it’s more passionate than she expected as she rambles on.

“I can’t get married on paper without losing my disability, but I don’t give a fuck about a piece of paper or someone officially giving us that title one day, I’m content just staying in this bed with you for the rest of time and never moving again.”

He looks like he’s about to explode with love as he presses his lips together in the softest smile. He can’t keep quiet any longer, “are you asking me to spend the rest of my life with you but not marry you?”

She laughs at the realization, “I think so?”

They’re trying to kiss but it ends up more like laughing with their mouths touching and teeth occasionally clashing. It’s hysterical because of the marijuana, sure, but they’re high on each other. It’s everything they’ve ever wanted.

To find something better than drugs; that little purpose in life comes back, that drive to see tomorrow because there are good memories to be made with their favourite person. She’s not afraid of the darkness or the unknowing anymore, Spencer’s her guiding light.

He's holding her close to his chest after a while, "are you feeling better?"

"Of course," she smiles, "I've got my weed and my reid."

His laugh is everything as it fills their space again. This was how the rest of her life was going to feel, and it made her excited for tomorrow.

—

She’s feeling a lot better later and they need Spencer to help Penelope back at work, but he doesn’t want to leave her. She’s in sweats with a blanket on her lap in the corner of Penelope’s office, a book in her hand and a coffee on the table beside her as she listens to them bicker back and forth.

“If you hack the NSA we can no longer use all this as evidence if he’s brought in alive, Penelope!” Spencer whisper shouts at her, afraid to raise his voice at her but wanting to get his point across.

“Hotch needs the aerial shots like yesterday, and the NSA won't get them to us in time for this kid!” She yells back.

“Call google…” Y/N suggests, flipping through her book.

“What?” Spencer looks at her like she just said the dumbest thing ever.

“They’re taking photos constantly for their maps program, my mom was saying our new roof is now on the updated map. They might have all the photos saved up, if the FBI asks nicely they might work with you…” she explains, pressing her lips together in a tight smile.

“You’re a genius!” Penelope shouts, dialling the phone and getting JJ to work his media magic for contact at google.

Spencer's smile is one she hasn’t seen before, he’s not only proud of her; he looks a little turned on. She just cracked the case by knowing all the little hacks about the internet as part of her day job. She lived online, and now she was saving lives because of it.

It was a good case to help on, she got to see 3 kids go home to their parents and know a terrible man was going to rot in prison for the rest of his sad and pathetic life. The hard part was seeing them go through months of footage of this guy's yard, seeing the child-sized holes he dug up. The disrupted earth and the knowledge of what happened when there wasn’t picture proof.

—

They go to a meeting after work.

They sit side by side, her leg is crossed and resting over his knee as their arms are linked and fingers interlocked. They really couldn’t be any closer if they tried. They just wanted to listen today, to know they were in a room of people who were trying, people who understood and battled every bad feeling they did.

“Y/N,” the group leader calls her out just before the end of the meeting, “it’s nice to see you back here with Spencer, we heard you found another group but it’s nice to see you here for the support.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay, but as you can see he is distracting.” She gestured to how they were sitting with a small giggle. “I like coming here if you guys don’t mind me occasionally dropping by?”

“By all means,” another member, carol, spoke up. “Spencer is a great sponsor, it’s nice to see him happy.”

She didn’t know he was a sponsor but he thanks her for the compliment, it turns out almost everyone in his group turned to Spencer for support. It was comforting to everyone there to know the real, chemical and biological reasoning behind their addictions. Spencer provided a sense of calm for all of them, like a younger brother; they all loved him dearly.

They’re still holding hands as they walk home, the sun is still setting and it's barely even 7 pm. All the lights on the street are on, shops are closing and the sidewalks are bare. One store is still open however, across the street, she can see the big storefront window, illuminated with the brightest lights to show off a new collection of rings.

“Do you want one?” He notices her eyes darting to the light like a moth to a flame.

“What?” She zones back in when he stops walking.

“A ring, do you want to get one?” He clarifies with the softest voice.

She nods softly, “you should get one too though, seeing as I asked you and everything.”

He grips her hand tighter and they dart across the street. Giggling like children running to the playground, they’re almost out of breath from laughing as they open the shop door with a ding. Smiles on their faces, joy in their hearts, it makes the shop owner swoon as she sees them.

“Did you just get engaged?” She pries with a knowing smile.

They nod, “we just need some rings,” Y/N adds.

She waves them over, “well I’m going to need our sizes first, here try these on.” She hands them what looks like a thin ruler with holes spaces out.

Y/N attempts to find the right one, fitting the best into the 9 and a half. Spencer fits into the 11 on the first try like he knew already and the woman just laughs at the way Y/N glares at him with love.

“What kind of rings are we thinking? Do you have a preferred cut, style, size, or colour?”

It’s a lot all at once and she’s never really thought about it, “I love my grandma's ring, do you have any vintage styles?”

“I have vintage-style rings as well as some restored rings from the '20s and '30s,” she brings out a jewellery box from under the counter. “These are all appraised and unique.”

When she takes the lid off, Y/N’s eyes widen at the view. There are at least 50 rings in their velvet beds as they wait patiently to be tried on; all different shapes sizes and colours like she said. It feels a little overwhelming at first but then her eyes land on a green one. She takes it out slowly and slides it over her ring finger.

It’s perfect.

Spencer picks out a nice gold band to match, he pays and the lady is so happy to watch them leave hand in hand with their new rings. Dedicated to each other forever and ever, he was her person for the rest of time because he said so and that’s as good as a piece of paper.

She’s a completely different person from who she was when she woke up; twirling down the street with the love of her life, high on loving him as he makes her laugh and holds her hand. He stops in the middle of the street and places his hands on her cheeks, drawing her in closer.

“Loving you is so much fun.”

“Ain’t it fun?” She agrees with a smile before pressing their lips together.

taglist:

@g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #aint it fun #drug tw

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gloster · 4 years ago

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FAVORITE FANFICS OF 2020

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

I know I speak for all when I say....I cannot wait to toss 2020 out the door the way Uncle Phil constantly did with Jazz. One of the things that got me through this rough year, besides family & friends & BTS, were fanfics.

It’s that time of year again where I make a list of all the fanfics that I absolutely adored. Some are by veteran favs of mine, others are new to me who just knocked it out of the park. If you’re interested in past lists, here is 2019′s list and 2018′s. If y’all are interested in doing your own fanfic favs of the year, please do so and tag me. Always on the hunt for new favs.

So without furhter ado, my fav fanfics of 2020:

1). Another Word for Forever series by stardropdream (sheith)

Summary: Shiro knows better than to expect love in an arranged marriage. This is all for the sake of universal peace, after all, and solidifying a Terran-Galran alliance. At the very least, Shiro can hope to make a friend out of this. Becoming friends would be much easier, though, if he and his husband could actually communicate.

With a language barrier and a mountain of cultural differences between them, getting to know Keith proves to be a challenge. Luckily, Shiro's always worked well with challenges.

2020 shockingly became the year of sheith. I ended up rewatching the show w/my bestie @littlenightdragon. Diving more deeply into it w/my other bestie @kila09. She and I spent the better half of this year devouring so many fanfics of them in various AUs. I came across new fanfic authors, and stardropdream is among them.

If I could describe this series & stardropdream, I’ll take a cue from Lady Gaga: “ talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it”

This series was just PERFECTION. I’ve gotten into arranged-marriage AUs and this has been one of the best I’ve read. It was just perfection. The language barrier definitely added an extra charm to it, in which Shiro finds his own ways to get to know his husband better: both creative and funny ways. So many cute moments, so many funny moments with Hunk being the translating middle man between them, and the smut. THE SMUT. THE SMUT. THE SMUT. Just *chef’s kiss* Incredible. It was just so so sweet, and such a comfort read. I reread this series 5 times already and hope Robin (the writer) does more stories in this AU.

Please read this series. You’re not gonna regret it. It will MELT your heart.

Honorable Mentions:

If I Called You Mine

Sail Across the Sky Just to Get to You

Finding Shelter (The Alien Baby Remix)

Say You Do(n’t)

2). The Golden Hour by @goldentruth813 (sheith)

Summary: After a space mission failure, Shiro loses his arm and his career. Two years later he's settled into a quiet and simple new life on his farm, but when a beautiful alien crashes in his field, he discovers the answers to his questions—and possibly the keys to his future—will come from the stars.

I’m sure no one, least of all Janel the writer herself, is surprised to see this author featured on this list. For now the 3rd year in a row. WOOOW 👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿 She is the reason I got into shieth, and she just continues to put out amazing conent with them. This story by far has been the best she’s done this year-possibly one of the best ever.

We have Shiro trying to have a simple life at the farm with his dog and animals. A curious BOM Keith who shakes things up with his boldness/innocence-and questions bound to test blood pressure, especially Shiro’s. Loads of cute moments, loads of funny moments, and also loads of oreos.

If summary and my thoughts don’t sell you, only one thing will: reading it for yourself.

Honorable mentions:

Two Hearts in Bloom

Mountain Men

Home is in Your Heart

3). Spun like Gold by Neyasochi (sheith)

Summary: Though Shiro is currently operating his fledgling bakery business out of a decrepit food truck he got for cheap in a repossession sale, he dreams of something more: a cozy bakery and cafe on a tree-lined street somewhere, filled with the smell of fresh coffee and sugar glaze instead of diesel. A little money could go a long way to helping him get off the ground-- and luckily, Keith has money to burn.

Or: Keith takes care of Shiro’s financial woes, in exchange for a little sugar.

OMG, OMG, OMG was this story so sweet. Neyasochi already sold me with the baking/baker Shiro trope, but went a step further throwing in sugar-daddy Keith who knows his way around his manic family and cars, but when it comes to asking a cute guy out? What better way to make an impression than becoming his best paying customer?

Honorable mentions:

oh, devour me

Healing Touch

on your hand of gold

4). The Destiny You Sold by @tryslora (drarry)

Summary: In which Draco knits, Harry makes wands, and things get very tangled up between them.

If there’s one thing I love about fanfics is how they introduce you to tropes you never would consider before. Draco and knitting was a combo I didn’t realize how much I needed until now. And I love the fact knitting played a big part of the accidental bonding. Also loved the fact everyone in their friend group shipped them like crazy. Highly, highly recommend

5) What’s My Age Again? by @lazywonderlvnd (drarry)

Summary: Harry Potter has had enough of pleasing the public, and his reckless tendencies are finally getting out of hand.

The Quidditch World Cup is only a week away; as Captain of the English National Team, Hermione has assured him that his immaturity won’t be tolerated by the Ministry.

And then Malfoy shows up.

(Inspired by the blink-182 song of the same name.)

It’s no secret that I’m such a fangirl of @lazywonderlvnd. Any drarry story I read, I always love. Last year, I ADORED The Changing Lights, which was one of my favorites last year, and her updating/finishing the story was a massive highlight for me. I thank ya for that.

This story was honestly refreshing. I’ve grown so used to Harry being responsible, always doing what’s right, that seeing a story where Harry pretty much has his middle finger in the air to “good reputation”, “being responsible,” because as he brought up: “I’m 25. I’ve been fighting all my life. I’ve earned my life to have fun.”

Okay, granted, it wasn’t quite like that but it was along those lines. And I agree. After all he went through, Harry deserves to have fun. He deserves to be reckless and make stupid decisions.

Also, it was such a blast reading a story where Harry is the brat & Draco has to keep him in line. LOVED.

Honorable mentions:

Inside Your Mind

Aletheia

6). Chocolate and Pastry by agentmoppet, anemonen (drarry)

Summary: When Pansy bets Draco that there is no chance he and Harry could carry out a genuine romantic relationship, he and Harry form a plan. But as their fake relationship progresses, Draco sees a side of Harry he never expected. Harry is struggling with something, pushing it far down inside him where he doesn't have to acknowledge its existence. Draco starts to worry, and then he starts to care, and then... horribly... he starts to fall in love.

Do not let the title fool you like it did me. Title alone, I was thinking it was going to be a fun, fluffy story involving baking, maybe chocolate crafting. However....it was not that at all. It was more. A lot deeper. A lot more angsty. It explored mental health, PTSD and the dangers of loved ones ignoring the signs, and contained an important message:

You can’t love someone out of their illness/disease/ addiction. Which is true and this story showed that.

7). i’m still here by owedbetter (zutara)

Summary: "You see me."

And somehow, that makes all the difference.

If there’s one of the few good things 2020 has brought, it was Netflix bringing back ATLA to their library. Which in turn ignited my love for zutara & had me drag @kila09 into that ship.

This story was just incredible. The way it was written, it really felt like it could have been canon. Deleted scenes that a certain creator didn’t want us to see. The way Zuko and Katara came together, starting from their peaceful friendship after the Southern Raiders episode up, becoming closer along the way.

I dare y’all to read this and not think OMG...is this secret canon bonus material? I definitely plan to read more by owedbetter.

8). all the what ifs i never said by rosegardenlake (sheith)

Summary: Keith is nine when he first notices Shiro. Shiro is gentle and quiet, always keeping to himself. Keith is rough and loud, running wherever his feet will take him, screaming on the top of his lungs into the wind. But despite that, they're a constant throughout each other's lives...if only that could be enough. As they grow, Keith just wants them both to be happy, but instead, he's falling apart.

Rosegardenlake is another sheith writer who I adored last year & adore this year as well. This was a story that I read during the beginning of quarantine-life and when I tell you the number of times Keith’s emotions of loneliness got to me, it’s a big number.

Keith’s struggle with life after high school, after peaking in school, and his mental health reminded me too much of where I was at 2018, which wasn’t a good year for me at all, especially mentally. So that was triggering but it was also helpful since I saw how far I came. And it was beautiful seeing how far Keith came.

Also the relationship between Shiro and Keith was just beautiful. It’s very funny how Keith was Shiro’s protector growing up and Shiro became Keith’s later on in life. There’s a chance your heart may be heavy, but will also be so swelled up with feelings these two bring it.

Honorable mentions:

Where the Light Doesn’t Reach

9). When Night Comes by Oh_Hey_Tae (BTS; poly ot7)

Summary: Jungkook’s tipsy, but he’s not buzzed enough to miss that he doesn’t recognize any of the four dozen people here. And seeing as his friends aren’t ones to ditch and there’s no way they’d play a prank this mean on him, Jungkook reaches the conclusion that he just walked into a stranger’s very expensive home, uninvited, and started eating their food and petting their well-dressed dog.

(Or: Jungkook shows up to the wrong Halloween party and meets the most powerful family in Seoul.)

I can easily say Oh_Hey_Tae easily one of my favorite BTS fanfic favs. Always come through with the stories, and this one was just amazing. We have Jungkook stumbling into a Halloween story, and soon enters into a intense, insane relationship with all six guys, who are already in a relationship with each other. Oh, and supernatural creatures at that.

You do see certain relationships are stronger, deeper. For example, a lot of moments between Jin and Jungkook. Vmin has their own story and moments. But it was just so amazing.

Fair warning. Halfway through, things get darker and Oh_My_Tae really loves playing readers diirty with the angst, but it’s so good.

10). peace-weaver by magisterpavus (sheith)

Summary: You will be the peace-weaver, his mother told him, smiling though her dark eyes welled with unshed grief. The one who brings two bitter enemies together and ends the bloodshed and death between us, once and for all.

But men will always crave war. The Galra, most of all.

Yet another arranged-marriage AU that I loved. This particular one is well-loved in the sheith fandom. I can definitely say it’s considered one of the classic fanfics that’s been read or shared at one point or another.

The story itself reminded me a lot of Macbeth, involving murder and dark forces at bay. The dynamics between Shiro and Keith reminded me of Drogo and Daenerys from GOT, one of my fav couples there, which only made it all the more better for me.

I do credit the author for the creative approach they took with quintessence and Shiro’s role/persona as the Champion

Honorable mentions:

The Boy in the Window

Sheith Demon/Priest AU

A Matter of Scale

Directive

Honorable mentions that I seriously wanted to add to the list but this post is already lengthy. All amazing, all greats reads by various writers y’all should check out:

Hold Me Tight, or Don’t by snowfallen (yoonmin with a Mr. & Mrs. Smith AU featuring assassins and hitmen, secret identities, fake marriage, and a lot of smut)

The Prince and Pirate by Maniacani, @nerdherderette (drarry with a splash of royalty and pirates. Perfect if you’re needing to fill in any Pirates of the Caribbean or Black Sails cravings)

First Kisses are the Best Ones by SashaDistan (sheith in a 50 First Dates Fusion heartfelt/heart-gutting story)

freely, as men strive for right by @bixgirl1 (drarry w/Harry explaining the many ways why Draco’s the love of his life. we love to see it)

The Sacrificed by SasuNarufan13 (sasunaru w/ dark fairytale elements similar to Little Red Riding Hood & Beauty and the beast + feat. mpreg)

Chasing Treacle Tart (and Draco Malfoy) by xErised (drarry feat. lunch lady Draco + scheming Harry + loads of fun w/sweets & more)

Red Desert by @beatitudinembty (taekook in a unique sci-fi AU; hard to explain but so worth a read

one way ticket to another life by starboykeith (sheith Hades x Persephone background)

Even So by lewilder (zutara; arranged marriage+ language barrier +soft strangers to lovers)

Well, lovely people, there you have it. My top 10 favorite fanfics of the year. I do notice a certain ship shows up a lot on this list, but I wasn’t kidding when I said they took over this year. Still, I tried to mix the list up with other fav ships/fandoms of mine. To the writers who created these incredible stories. I applaud you. I thank you for creating and sharing these wonderful stories. Anyone interested in doing the tag, please do.

HAPPY NEW YEAR, GUYS

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yukipri · 4 years ago

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Marco’s Bauble Part 7 - a One Piece Mermaid AU Text Story

I ended up spending most of this past weekend setting up the Mermaid AU on AO3, so I do hope y’all will check it out over there!

Please note that on AO3, this Marco’s Bauble story is going under the title On the Courtship of Monkey D. Luffy. I didn’t really know where this series was going when I began writing it, and “Marco’s Bauble” was most definitely a starting point, but it’s expanded well beyond that now, as you’ll probably see in this update ^ ^; I haven’t decided yet whether I’ll rename all the parts on Tumblr or not.

BUT in the meantime, I’ll continue posting updates in advance here on Tumblr (and on Patreon even further in advance ;D), so here’s an update for this week!

In which Sabo confronts Koala.

Continues off of, and should be read after:

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 1

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 2

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 3

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble, Part 4

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble, Part 5

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble, Part 6

Hmm, Koala thinks. So this probably counts as a "kabedon."

A kabedon, according to the young new recruits who'd explained it to her, is a situation in which one person, ideally tall and attractive, leans over a second, ideally smaller person, boxing them against a wall with their arms, essentially pinning them in place. Koala thinks it sounds like menacing posturing, but the recruits insisted that if done by the right person, it's a terribly titillating scenario, the kind you'd find in romance stories.

It happens to be the situation that Koala finds herself in now, with her back against the side of Merry's cabin as Sabo looms over her, effectively blocking all exits with his arms braced against the wall on either side of her.

Sabo, Koala grudgingly thinks, probably not only qualifies, but is likely the recruits' very definition of tall and attractive.

Right now, he's doing that thing where his eyes are half-mast, dark and unreadable as they peer down at Koala through the curtain of blond locks that have fallen across his face. It's a look that Koala knows has half of Baltigo swooning, and she's heard people call it Chief's Sexy Look.

Koala feels very strongly that those are a poor choice of words, because from personal experience, she knows it's a look that's usually followed immediate, brutal interrogation that often ends in screams and excessive bloodshed.

"Koala," he breathes, in that voice that has stolen the hearts of half the Revolutionary Army, and has convinced more than one unfortunate soul that perhaps, they might survive this encounter after all.

But Koala knows better.

Because his next words are, surprise surprise, "What are you hiding from me about my Luffy?"

He smiles then, and it looks misleadingly gentle, and Koala can see why strangers may mistake him for a benevolent princely gentleman.

But Koala knows Sabo. And all she sees is the manic sadism behind the oh so very fake expression.

She cringes, because no, there is absolutely nothing romantic or exciting about this situation at all. All she feels is Doom.

"Hmm?" she says, keeping her hands behind her back so he can't see them twist. In these situations, Koala's more than well aware that the more she talks, the more she incriminates herself.

Many who observe their partnership are under the impression that Sabo's just the overpowered guy who beats people up and destroys shit, while Koala provides intel. And while it's true that Koala has intel, Sabo's the one who often personally extracts it from their most stubborn sources.

In other words, what Sabo wants, he usually gets. It's usually a comforting thought, but not today.

"Hmm?" Sabo parrots back, eyes lazily tracing over her face, and Koala frantically tries to keep her expression neutral as he searches for an opening.

It's like when they were children, Koala thinks, when they played interrogation games with each other as assignments for Inazuma's class. Except this time, it's not Koala's grade on the line. And while Koala knows that her partner would never actually hurt her, he's also very capable of making life pretty miserable for her if she doesn't spill.

And right now, she has a secret she'd really, really like to keep away from Sabo.

The secret being, y'know, the fact that someone proposed to his dearest baby brother.

And even though it's extremely unlikely that Luffy understands the significance behind the gesture, she considers the gift hers, which, for all points and purposes...means she accepted.

Koala does not want Sabo to find out about this, from her, at least right now, before she has more information.

But, Koala glumly remembers, she's never actually managed to win any interrogation games against him.

"You know," he says, voice deceptively light, and Koala wants to groan because here we go. "Luffy and Ace mean the world to me. They're not just my past, they make me who I am. Even when I didn't remember, they were with me, and I was with them. They're everything to me."

Koala won't break. She tries to look for an opening without shifting her eyes, but Sabo's not an amateur and there are no escape routes.

"It would truly be terrible, if something happened to one of them, something that should be stopped, that I could have prevented if only I had known."

He's poking her defenses. He wants her to say, you're blowing this out of proportion, it's not that big a deal, or maybe you're overthinking this. Possibly even lie, I'm not hiding anything, or even counter, what makes you think I'm hiding something?

Koala knows better. Those are all traps, all openings that he'd pounce on, and she's seen him rip people apart for falling for them. Koala won't give him the chance.

He leans in close, and whispers in her ear, voice low and dark in a way that would make his fans cry, and his enemies cry too but for an entirely different reason. "You wouldn't know something that'd prevent me from fulfilling my duties as Luffy's older brother, now would you, Koala?"

Well, Koala thinks snidely, depends on what you consider your brotherly duties, and whether they include homicide and starting a war with an Emperor.

She says, "Mmm."

Sabo, or rather his mouth, smiles. His eyes are a void. Koala's not used to be on the receiving end of this particular stare, and she isn't enjoying a moment of it.

"Alright. If that's how you want to be. Let's figure this out together, now shall we?"

Sabo's voice is calm, exaggeratedly patient, like a therapist. He never talks to Koala like this, but Koala still recognizes this particular tone, and cringes as she realizes which interrogation pattern he's chosen. It's one she's ill equipped to counter at the moment, and he no doubt knows it.

Koala braces herself. Blank face, she tells herself, even breathing. He's using his stupid over-powered Observation Haki to keep track of your pulse.

"Well," he begins, "I know it's already about Luffy, because you're more nervous about me talking about her than Ace." It's stated as fact, and Koala blinks rapidly to moisten her eyes because she knows the real deal's starting now, and she'll have to avoid blinking when it might give her away.

"And it must be something you found out during your Fishman Karate sessions, because you don't have any other time together, at least when I'm not watching."

Koala isn't remotely surprised that he's monitoring everyone; after all, she's been doing the same. She wants to sigh but keeps it in.

"It's probably something physical, because Lu can't keep secrets if she thinks of them as secrets, so it might have been something you saw...a scar, or a mark on her body? No? Then an object she has on her...Ah, there we go."

Fuck you, I didn't give you any tells, Koala thinks indignantly, but she knows that expressing any annoyance will only confirm his guesses, and continues to refuse to speak.

"You've been going to the kitchen more often than usual, but not during meal times, or even prep times, but rather lulls...times that you have no business in the kitchen, and times where only cooks are present, cleaning up or otherwise doing tasks that don't require their full attention...the perfect time to chat."

Maybe I wanted a snack, Koala thinks, but keeps her mouth shut, because Sabo already knows when and how she snacks. This interrogation really isn't fair.

"And as for the cooks in question...well, if it were Sanji, I'd just ask him myself, but you knew I wouldn't do that, right, Koala? You know I could get it out of him, so if it was him, he wouldn't know anything of value. But I don't think he's involved at all."

Sabo looks at Koala expectantly. Koala stares right back at him, though her eyes feel very, very dry.

"So the question now is, why would my dearest partner want to protect Thatch, Fourth Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates and temporary first cook of the ASL Pirates?" Sabo talks as though he's asking himself, but he isn't, and Koala's not fooled. She keeps her face blank. "I doubt it's a personal thing, after all, his intentions towards Luffy couldn't be more obvious, he announces it at least once a day. And given my partner's obvious little lesbian crush, it doesn't seem in her best interests to help him, no?"

This does get a reaction from Koala, and her breath leaves her in a whoosh. Fine, make it personal. If he's figured out this much, it's only a few more steps till the answer, and at this point what does it matter. Koala glares, relishing freeing her face from its mask, and for a moment Sabo's back to his usual self, giving her a cheeky wink as though to say told you so. But then Interrogator!Sabo is back, because he's not quite done yet.

Whatever. She tried, alright. It's not like she owes the Phoenix anything. She leans back against the wall, bringing her arms in front of her chest, and scowls, hoping her expression projects exactly what she thinks of Interrogator!Sabo at the moment. Sabo likewise drops his arms, because he knows she's no longer going to escape.

"You're not protecting Thatch himself, because if you were we could solve it here, and it never needs to get out of hand. So you're protecting someone connected to him. The fact that you're being so stubborn, tells me that it's not just a personal thing, but something that could cause an incident, that would likely affect the Army. Which means, obviously, a Whitebeard pirate.

"But I don't think it's just any Whitebeard pirate. They're someone high profile enough that it would be a big deal if I were to confront them, possibly jeopardizing any potential future alliances the Army forms with them, or drawing the eyes of the World Government. Which, they're already watching us, which makes me think it's gotta be someone even bigger than Thatch..."

Which, of course doesn't leave much.

"It could very well be old man Whitebeard himself," Sabo says, but he's shaking his head. "But something tells me it's not. And I know that some very interesting little blue birds have been stopping by the Merry, likely with letters for Thatch, but possibly also with unsolicited deliveries for my baby brother..."

Your baby brother, chill with your possessiveness, does rubbing it in feel that good? Koala sniffs.

"And as for why it's a big deal...you wouldn't be so secretive over a crush. Everyone on the crew has a crush. That can be dealt with. This is a few steps beyond, something you think would make me mad, right, Koala?”

Sabo pauses a moment, but it's for dramatic effect, because Sabo knows that Koala knows that he already has an answer.

"So tell me, Koala. What did Marco the Phoenix give Luffy to try to claim her as his bride?"

And well, there you have it.

"Bravo," Koala says dryly. "I see you're qualified for your position, Chief. I'll be sure to inform the Boss."

Sabo tips his hat, and even though she allows herself to relax, Koala keeps her eyes trained on her partner.

He's taking this calmer than she expected, to be honest. Interrogator!Sabo still hasn't fully faded from his face, but he's no longer giving off sadistic vibes, and has that little frown that tells Koala he's still sorting through his thoughts. His ability to remain composed is likely affected by the fact that they're still in Paradise, and the Whitebeard Pirates and the New World are still quite a ways away.

Which is good, because it means Sabo can't just impulsively cause a massive incident on the spot. But it's also bad, because it means he's got more time to plot, and Sabo can come up with some pretty devastating things if given the opportunity.

"Sabo, I barely know anything myself, and neither does Thatch," Koala says, finally willing to speak. "I'm working on getting more information. Don't plan anything rash yet. It could all be a misunderstanding."

Sabo slowly nods, still quiet. Koala sighs.

This might be a good time to bring up a certain topic, she realizes. She'd been thinking about it for a while now, but had wanted to give him more time.

She first thought about it when the night after he regained his memories, she sees Sabo slip away from the Merry to pursue the ship that's transporting the slavers who tried to sell Luffy at the auction house. The slavers have already been passed in the hands of Army agents, all of the enslaved have been freed and are on their way to safety, and Luffy's back with her crew. Their job should have been over.

Sabo comes back before dawn, accompanied by Ace who had likely transported him with Striker. He seems calmer than the night before, but Koala doesn't miss that his gloves are still damp from recently being washed.

There've been other incidents too, in the short period they've traveled together. Koala's seen Sabo dangerously close to snapping (and actually snapping) more during the past few weeks than their entire decade together. And on one hand, it's understandable, but on the other...

"You know," Koala begins, as gently as possible. "she's no longer the child you left behind. She's an adult. Even if this ends up being nothing, she may still find someone, one day. What are you going to do then?"

If Luffy's in physical danger, protecting her is one thing. But what if it's something that she chooses?

The change is subtle, but Koala notices when the last of the Chief of Staff fades from Sabo, as his head tilts downward ever so slightly. And all of a sudden he reminds Koala all too much of the tiny, battered child who stared at himself in the mirror when he thought everyone was asleep, touching his scars and asking, Who are you?

"I can't lose her, I can't lose either of them," Sabo says quietly, and he overlaps completely with the lost child, and ah, Koala thinks, because she gets it.

That child, that self who was missing for so long, is back now, inside Sabo where he always belonged, where he always existed but couldn't be recognized. That child now takes up so much space, too much space, and still hasn't been fully reconciled with the adult that Sabo's grown up to be. Simpler, childish emotions and desires that feel too vibrant and raw, clashing with the adult's more weathered world view, aggravated further by all the darkness that Sabo's seen in their line of work.

Sabo's less concerned about Ace, Koala knows, because even though Sabo loves both his brothers, Ace is like his other half. They don't protect each other, but function seamlessly as a single unit, a unit with one priority that stands above all else.

Luffy.

Luffy, who as a child, Sabo was able to protect from anything and everything in their isolated microcosm. Luffy, who as an adult, Sabo knows all too well is more vulnerable than ever, as proven by the very situation in which they reunited.

A gilded glass tank, hidden away behind dusty curtains, with a dark, motionless shape crumpled at the bottom. Chains, chains, and chains upon bruised skin, and bubbles rising from parted lips, getting smaller and smaller as she slowly fades...

That was bad enough, but Koala doubts Ace or any of the others know exactly what the fate of a captured mermaid is, at least in the way that Koala and Sabo do.

Koala understands, she really does.

But she also knows the importance of freedom, not just to Sabo, but likely to Luffy and Ace as well.

"Would it be losing her?" she asks, and child!Sabo flinches.

"We vowed to be free," Sabo says, and he still sounds lost, like he doesn't know what the word means anymore. "And we will be." His hat shadows his eyes, and Koala can't imagine how they look at that moment. "But I don't want her to go where I can't follow."

"Then follow," Koala says, because what else is there to say? "Follow, if that's your freedom. But you can't stop hers."

"I know."

She couldn't have known how Sabo would take her words.

Part 8, we see more of Thatch.

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

As always, any comments are immensely appreciated and help motivate me to create more for this AU! ;A;

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~

#OnePieceMermaidAU #One Piece Mermaid AU #fic #text headcanons #Sabo #Koala #genderbend #longpost #long post #pre-SaboLu #should I still even post fics on tumblr or is that a waste of my time? ^ ^;;;

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mydearesthrry · 4 years ago

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places we won’t walk (chapter one) || peter parker

summary - the doors at midtown seem a little boring, but when you get introduced to someone you seem to remember, what happens when they seem to remember you too?

word count - 2.9k (wow shes gettin better!)

pairings - peter parker x fem!reader

warnings - like mild mention of s*xual assault, angst if you squint really hard, mj being a softy for you, mj being a lowkey bi, peter being stupid as always, y/n calling peter a colonizer.... thats it ok enjoy

a/n: so i know i last updated in october, but as u all saw i have a 25 days of xnas thing going on (PLS I WROTE THE A/N LIKE A MONTH AGO PLUS I FORGOT ABOUT THE XMAS THING DISREGARD) so pwww updates will be slow (as if they werent already omg) but the next chapter will be arriving hopefully, fingers crossed, on xmas eve or xmas! also, are you guys watching the new euphoria episode? also, i’ve stopped using the word ‘stuttering’, as it may be ableist, and i’d never wanna come off as insensitive. anyway lmao, enjoy chapter one, the trials and tribulations of hitting someone in the nuts.

also side note psa: biggest thank you to @blossomparkers for helping me so much w this chapter. i owe it all tooooo u lani yani. thank u for everything !!!!!

series masterlist | regular masterlist | series playlist

(gif not mine!)

when y/n y/m/n stark was in her early years, she was never aware of the impact her father would and did hold over her life, and in turn, the whole world. for the longest time, you’d always assumed that your father wasn’t real, and everything that had been told to you by malicious family members who were jealous over your father’s “successes” had been lies, and you had it believed yourself. no one would even think that you were tony stark’s daughter until it had been mentioned. tony’s snarky attitude had been a character trait that you’d gotten, and you always took pride in your humor and attitude.

the story of your mother and tony had been messy and all over the place. from a drunken hook-up followed by multiple days of morning sickness, to a surprise pregnancy test, the storyline of your parents had been.. well.. interesting to say the least. you never focused on your family’s history, solely based on the fact that you didn’t have two fucks to give about your family history, but you also never knew your father which was-- bizarre.

when tony had found out about you, he claimed it was a drunken accident, a mistake, and one he made when he was “less responsibly a stark”, which was actually just some fucking bullshit, but he didn’t wanna admit that he hooked up with some random chick at a bar that he thought was hot.

since you had been raised by a mother who was barely there, you had to raise yourself. you were kinda street smart and book smart, and you were always smart when it came to books, because you were the type to want to learn-- unlike others.

when you were in your teen years, you had tabs on you and the media on you 24/7 to make sure you didn’t royally fuck up. the unwanted attention became too much when you started realizing that people didn’t want you for your personality, they wanted you for your title. but this was after you moved from brooklyn. nuvale and peter never saw you as some “movie star”, or some famous person in the media because you weren’t. but when you had grown to learn what your father did, he had forced you to not fuck up to maintain his-- somewhat okay reputation.

you always wanted that superstar life, as a fantasy of course, but when you got to it, you realized the cliche-y-ness of it all. you’d idolized the famous women in the media-- idolized how they looked like. you realized fairly quick how fucked up the media truly is. you realized how things really aren’t as they seem. its not just the galas that look extravagant, or getting to wear a fancy new gucci outfit every night. it honestly was a whole bunch of other shit you wouldn’t even imagine. it comes with the no privacy thing- people stalking you in public, the death threats, so much shit that wouldn’t happen as common if you were just anonymous.

being an avenger (basically), your dad had natasha teach you the ropes; the basic rules of how to kick someones ass. it was a handbook that the women of the avengers had created, and it had all the rules and regulations of how to spar someone on the team, and basically how to righteously beat someone's ass up. it was never really something you found too important, but as you grew older, you realized that it was very important to know, especially since you were a girl.

despite your harsh remarks and snarky attitude, your father always knew how to hit a sensitive point in you that always managed to break you down. you never quite understood why he would want to make you feel worse about yourself than you already felt, but regardless, you always felt underappreciated by him. being a stark, you were expected to be a genius, get over the top grades, and constantly be able to keep up, but with your luck, you were graced with depression, social anxiety, and a 4.0 gpa. fun, right?

wrong.

when you were 11, you had made friends with the kids in your apartment halls, and you learned that their names were nuvale jones and peter parker, and you were basically the golden trio. you were hermione, peter was ron, and nuvale was harry. which, now that you look back at it, makes much more sense than any other arrangement. you also had another friend, harry osborn, but once he moved away, there was no way for you to talk to him anymore. he had moved across the country to california, and from then, it was just you, peter, and nuvale. your best friends ha been there for you for what seemed like decades, although you only knew them for about three.

peter was the boy with the rosy cheeks who little 12 year old you would get butterflies in her tummy. or the type of boy to bring you an extra snack if you weren’t able to pack it the night before. he was the type of boy to walk you to the nurses office if you got hit with a dodgeball. he was the type of boy to fall for someone like you. but he didn’t. or so you thought.

little prebubescent y/n was an awkward girl who thought the world would be on her side when she needed it the most, or that whenever you needed peter or nuva, they would be there. you didn’t think your best friend would stop talking to you after you had moved away. you were too naive to know that peter liked you, and you were too naive to know that he had liked you back, but you wanted to believe what your brain would tell you, so you decided to flush your feelings down the drain and forget about them, which, in hindsight, was a pretty shitty idea. who would’ve known?

your alarm clock blared loudly from beside you, causing you to let out a loud groan in protest. you hit the side of your head angrily, then whining and rubbing the spot which you hit. whines and loud sighs fell from your lips as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and pulled the covers over your head, knowing what would come next after you would try to snooze your alarm.

“good morning, miss stark, how could i be of service to you this morning?” friday’s voice echoed through your large bedroom. you peaked your eyes and forehead from beneath the covers, your eyes slowly starting to adjust to the light that was pulled through the big blinds which were now open.

“mmm, fri, just tell happy to get the car ready, ill be ready in a few min- nevermind, tell him to get ready in thirty, im probably gonna fall asleep in the shower.” you croaked, taking your phone from the charger which was on your nightstand. you slipped on your bunny slippers and turned on the heater in your room, the draft filling your room with cold air throughout the night.

-------

once you walked through the large industrial doors of midtown’s cafeteria, everyones voices started to drop into sharp hushed whispers, making you roll your eyes and pull your hood up over your face. you pulled your airpods from your pockets into your ears and tried your best to avoid any and all eye contact with anyone you did end up coming into contact with. you walked over to the food bar where you grabbed a red school tray and plastered on your best smile to the lunch ladies who work oh so hard to make sure you all were fed. as you walked through the line, you could feel the intensified stares on you, making your back erupt in chills. you didn’t like to be watched, and the fact that you were a so-called celebrity didn’t help your cause in any way.

“hey.” a low voice called from behind you. it was a girl with curly hair with gorgeous light brown skin, and a jawline that would cut you. you were almost astonished by her beauty, but you remembered the facade you had to hold, especially to strangers that you didn’t know.

“hey?” you asked unsurely, wondering if she was with the media or not. which was something that tended to happen quite a bit.

“don’t worry, i’m not with the press. you just seem interesting.” she said in a monotone voice, but still with a strong look of seriousness on her face. you giggled softly when your eyes locked and your faces went totally still, making the girl in front of you laugh as well. she held out her hand in front of you, while also balancing her tray and book in the other hand. you placed yours into hers and shook it, smiling when she told you her name.

“michelle jones.” she smiled, your throat getting a little tight at her last name, and you had to admit that it struck a little chord within you, but you quickly cleared it from your thoughts and introduced yourself as well.

“y/n stark. pleasure to meet you, jones.”

“pleasure to meet you too.”

“so, i get that you’re new here,” she started walking, inviting you to walk along with her. “what- what are you doing here? i mean i get you’re smart and all, but this is a nerd school; you literally could’ve gone anywhere, so, might i ask, why here?”

“hm, interesting question. seriously i don’t know. my dad and i don’t really get along so he makes the decisions and i tell him if i like it or not. which by the way, i’m gonna have to stay near you-- you’re the only one making this bearable for me right now.” you snorted, nudging your elbow to hers.

“hm, daddy issues. great song, love the artists.” she smirked, making you shoot your head back in loud laughter, gaining some side eyed glances from a few people sitting at the tables around you.

“so, where are we sitting? i usually nev-”

“hey mj!” you were interrupted by a boyish laugh and hoots and hollers coming from a table two tables ahead of you.

“jesus fucking christ. what? just because i got some and you didn’t doesn’t mean that you have to be that fuckin’ loud about it.” she grumbled, placing her tray down, slinging the backpack on her right shoulder beside her. you looked at her with a nervous but curious glint in your eyes. she gave you a knowing look which said, ‘just go with what i say’, making you nod in understanding.

“woah! holy shit! i m- i mean woah- nice to- nice to meet you!” the boy fumbled over his words, looking at you and michelle in disbelief, shaking his friends shoulder and poking at his cheek.

“nice cut, g. looks nice.” you said to him, giggling as you stuck your straw into the mini juice box.

“o-oh, thanks… g?” he said back to you, observing your looks with a confused expression written on his face making you giggle at his confusion.

“peter! look! y/n stark is at our table!” he whisper shouted to his friend, making you look at michelle with a smile on your face and playfully rolling your eyes. she looked back at you, rolling her eyes as well, gesturing to her head as if saying ‘idiots’, making you giggle and turn back to them.

“so, bowl cut dude, what’s your name?” you nodded to him, picking at your salad with the blac spork that was so cordially given to you by mj.

“n-ned, ned leeds.” he smiled sheepishly.

“and you, colonizer, what’s your name?” you tapped on the table, alerting the boys attention. you could hear michelle and ned hollering and snickering from their seats, but decided to keep your poker face rolling. but i mean, how couldn’t you? the look on his face was absolutely priceless.

“peter park- wait did you just call me a colonizer?” he cut himself off in his own sentence, looking at his other friends for confirmation, to which they nodded, still cackling at the fact that you had indeed call him a colonizer.

“peter park, hm?” you teased, ignoring the way you hesitated and ignoring the way your chest felt heavy when the name of peter was said.

“n-no thats not my name-” he said, tripping over his words, making you let out a chuckle.

“i’m messing with you. with what you’ve given me, i could only guess your name is peter parker?” you rested your chin on your hand, engaging in the awkward conversation.

“yeah. thats my name.” he said more confidently, giving you a tight lipped smile.

“nice to meet you, parker.”

“you too, stark, my pleasure.”

----

after the small encounter with your new found friends, you had gone back to your respective classes, which meant that your next class had peter in it. after you had split up, you decided to get there early to avoid any commotion surrounding you.

as the boring class continued, you heard the loud clicking of high heels in the hallways, which had to be one person and one person only.

“stark,” someone shouted from the door which swung open. low and behold, in front of you was the prickly bitch, your principal, mrs cunningham. “come with me, eugene’s parents have requested a meeting with you and your father considering that you had just hit their son in the private areas!” everyone snickered and laughed. finally someone had stood up to flash’s shit.

“y- you punched flash in the nuts? i thought that was just a rumor?” peter stuttered, looking at you in disbelief.

“yeah, the fuck was i gonna do? let him flirt with me? no. that bitch tried to grab my ass. i’m a stark, i was raised better than that.” you whispered to him, packing your bag as you did so.

“hm, guess you’re right. well, good luck stark.”

“thanks parker.”

--------

once you arrived in the principals office, you saw what seemed to be his mother in one of the seats decked out in expensive pearls and diamonds. typical.

“little miss over here punched my son in the privates! i will not allow this to happen!” fuck. you thought; another one of those stuck up cunty parents.

“pfft, probably paid to get their son into here.” you muttered under your breath, playing with your protection bracelets incase anything was to ever happen.

“wHAT? mrs cunningham, i will not allow this child to talk about my son this wa-”

“hello! i was called in?” a voice interrupted, one you could only peg as your father.

“ahh! mr stark! you’re finally here!” your hilarious excuse as a principal said cheerfully.

“i am! and i am here to.. come and have a meeting about my daughter's- behavior?” he asked questiongly, already seeing the triumphant and cocky look on your face. he knew you weren’t at fault, and you were gonna lie your pretty ass out of it.

“well, mr stark, we have a student in the nurses room due to the actions of your daughter!” she looked at him menacingly. he shook his head with a smile on his face and walked over to you, grasping your shoulders in his hands.

“well kiddo, wanna explain what and why you did what you did?” he smiled, giving you two taps on your shoulder, already knowing what was next. you two had a pretty good acting schedule when it came to it, when in reality, you despised eachother.

“sure daddy! eugene had been hitting on me for several days now, and even found my private social medias in use to.. how can i say this, use me for my fame? he tried talking to me, very inappropriately on several occasions, and even went as far as to try and grab me in areas in which i find extremely inappropriate, without my consent, might i add, which doesn’t seem okay with me. does it seem exceptional to you, mrs thompson?” you asked, while only keeping your eyes on his mother.

“why, i am so sorry miss stark! his father will be in contact, i did not raise my baby to be this way! im sorry for any inconvenience he may have caused you!” she gasped, raising a hand to her heart.

“it’s okay, i just request, may this never happen again? i would not like my privacy to be invaded, much less from your son, and can i please ask that he never try to hit on me, nor any girls at this school ever again? i can only imagine how many other girls this may have happened to, mrs thompson.” you sighed, your eyes filling up with fake tears. you reached up to touch your fathers hand, tapping it twice back, knowing that you both had just won.

“never again miss stark, once again, i am so sorry this happened to you.”

“it’s okay. now mrs cunningham, shall we see our way out?” your father answered for you, looking over at the old white woman who looked like a piece of cheese. she could only nod in awe, giving you the cue to pick up your bags and walk proudly to the door.

“thanks i guess.” you muttered, pulling out your airpods once more, hoping to seal the conversation with your father.

“yeah yeah, no problemo.” he muttered back, avoiding eye contact and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

once you reached the door, you remembered that you had left something in your locker, and informed your dad that you’d be going back to get it. he all but nodded and looked back at his shoes before trudging to the car.

once you entered the seemingly halls, much to your surprise, you saw a scrawny teenage boy lifting open a set of lockers, which you didn’t even know was possible, and pulling out a red and blue suit. once you saw who the hands belonged to, your mouth fell agape as you gasped,

“peter?”

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purplehairedwonder · 4 years ago

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Hearts With(out) Chains Chapter 11

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Gen (eventual Lawlu) Words: 3537 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Monkey D. Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Franky, Smoker, Tashigi, Vergo Note: I’m taking my turn at the Corazon!Law AU because my brain won’t leave me alone until this is written down. Tags will be updated as the chapters come out.

The story title is based on the Ellie Goulding song “Hearts Without Chains.”

Summary: Law is reclaimed by the Family when he's 17 and, with Doflamingo holding the lives of his crew as collateral for his good behavior, eventually becomes the third Corazon. Years later, trapped by his impossible situation, Law finds a strange connection to Monkey D. Luffy, which offers a glimpse of something he's repeatedly had ripped away from him: hope.

Previous chapters: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

Smoker’s eyes widened. “Vergo? What is the head of G-5 doing here?”

“I’m here on business, Vice Admiral,” Vergo replied, inclining his head at Smoker.

“We called for backup but were told you were on leave,” the swordswoman said, frowning.

He never said whose business he’s here on, Law thought wryly as he sliced through the chains holding the two Marines captive. He stepped back out of the cage, eyeing Vergo. Law didn’t like the sense of satisfaction radiating off the older man. He’d heard what Law had said—but had anyone else?

“Doffy didn’t believe me before that you’re a traitor, but now he’ll have it in your own words, Law.”

Could Vergo have a line open to Dressrosa? Or perhaps he’d recorded what Law had said.

It also confirmed that Vergo had called Doffy with his report on Law’s defection, but apparently Doffy wasn’t buying it; the Warlord knew full well the safeguards he’d put into place to prevent Law from betraying him, after all. If Vergo had proof, though…

Law needed to make sure those words never left this room.

“I didn’t think you’d be so foolish as to blow your cover over a grudge,” Law commented, raising an eyebrow. He kept his tone purposefully light, but he expanded his Room and kept Kikoku hefted in front of him.

With a quick scan of his Room, he found Zoro’s swords and Shambled them into the man’s hands. Zoro let out a surprised yelp (one Law knew he would deny making until his dying day), and Law’s lip twitched as he glanced back and met the pirate hunter’s eye. The other man’s startled expression quickly shifted into a nod of appreciation as he replaced the blades at his side.

“Cover?” the swordswoman asked, following Smoker out of the cell.

Smoker jerked. “A traitor?” he growled, glancing between Law and Vergo. His gaze finally settled on the base commander. He shook his head, and Law could practically hear the pieces clicking into place in his brain. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it. You’re the one who’s been covering up the abductions of the children, aren’t you?”

“Don’t feel too bad, White Chase-ya,” Law said, and Smoker looked back at him suspiciously. “It’s not like Vergo was a traitor to the Marines. Vergo was a pirate from the start.”

“What?”

Law couldn’t help his lip curling into a sneer. “He’s Doflamingo’s most trusted subordinate. He joined the Marines on his orders fifteen years ago and climbed the ranks.”

“A pirate posing as a Marine,” Smoker hissed. “Shameful.” He shook his head, disgusted.

“How dare you,” the captain yelled at Vergo, betrayal tinging the anger in her voice. “Those children are innocent!”

“They’re sacrifices for the greater good, Captain Tashigi,” Vergo said simply. He’d been watching the exchange with a bored affect in place, though Law knew better than to take him at face value; Vergo was always poised to attack.

“The greater good?” the cat burglar snapped. “What greater good could possibly come from experimenting on children?”

“That is super messed up,” the cyborg agreed.

“A world ruled by Donquixote Doflamingo, of course,” Vergo said, as though the answer were obvious. And, Law supposed, for Vergo, it was. “Give me some credit for keeping up my cover, Smoker-kun. I’ve been on my guard ever since you transferred to G-5. It will be good to finally be rid of that concern.”

Vergo turned back to Law. “And who says I’m blowing my cover, Law?” Vergo had completely dispensed with Law’s title, apparently. He’d never respected Law as a successor, no matter how many times Doffy pushed him on it, and now he had the excuse to back it up. “None of them are leaving this island. I’ll file it away as a tragic accident at sea, as always.”

Law narrowed his eyes, reminded once more of the World Government’s coverup of Flevance’s destruction. Vergo, as far as Law was concerned, was proof pirates and soldiers weren’t so different, no matter what people like Smoker professed. Law knew he was no better, but he also never claimed to be.

“I won’t let that happen,” Smoker snarled. He didn’t have his jitte since he’d been captured—and Law wasn’t feeling particularly inclined to return the weapon that had taken him down with Seastone—but he didn’t let that stop him.

Smoker shifted into smoke form and charged Vergo with an outraged yell. He had to know about Vergo’s talent with haki and the effect it would have on his Fruit’s abilities, but he attacked anyway, his fury at his base commander’s betrayal driving him on.

“Smoker-san!” the captain called, worried.

“What is he doing?” Zoro muttered.

Smoker punched at Vergo with a smoky tendril, but Vergo blackened his arm and grabbed the smoke. Smoker cursed as Vergo spun and whipped him into the far wall. Smoker coughed and sagged to the floor. His second and the Straw Hats gasped, but Law took the moment of distraction to Scan Vergo; there was a Den Den Mushi in his pocket.

With a twitch of his fingers, the Den Den Mushi flew from Vergo’s coat toward Law. Vergo’s eyes snapped toward him.

“No!”

Law grabbed the snail from midair, and he pocketed it just as Vergo’s haki-coated stick slammed into his chest, tossing him like a rag doll into the wall behind him. The back of Law’s head hit the metal; his vision briefly went dark, and his stomach threatened to empty itself—another blow to his head was not what Law needed when he already had a concussion—but Law, taking a stabilizing breath, was able to collect his wits and keep his Room from falling. He Shambled himself across the room before Vergo could recover the Den Den Mushi.

“Brat!” Vergo snapped as he turned to find Law slumped over on one of the couches, having swapped places with a pillow. “But I suppose running away is always what you’ve done best.”

Law could vaguely hear the Straw Hats making some kind of commotion, though their words wouldn’t form in his ears; his blurry vision, however, was directed entirely toward the man striding toward him, a murderous intent barely contained beneath his haki-clad skin; Vergo knew he couldn’t kill Law before bringing him back to Dressrosa, but that wouldn’t stop him from beating the shit out of him—again.

Law just needed a moment to bring his vision back into focus…

Suddenly, Vergo was flying across the room. He crashed into the far wall and crumpled. Law blinked, his battered brain trying to comprehend what he was seeing. Belatedly, he turned to see Straw Hat, flanked by his crewmates, standing in the doorway, his rubbery arm returning to him with a loud snap.

Before dealing with that, Law pulled Vergo’s Den Den Mushi from his pocketed and noted in relief that there wasn’t a live line open. That meant Doffy hadn’t been listening in. Vergo still could have recorded his words, but Law would worry about that later. If Doffy hadn’t heard Law, then all Law had to do was prevent Vergo from bringing his words back to Dressrosa.

He pushed himself to his feet and headed toward the new arrivals. His vision was clearing, but his balance was still slightly off. The doctor in him was concerned, but the pirate in him knew he didn’t have the luxury of taking a break.

The two factions of Straw Hats were greeting each other happily. Straw Hat’s expression lit up as Law approached.

“Torao!”

“What are you doing here, Straw Hat-ya?” Law demanded. “We agreed you would wait.”

Straw Hat frowned. “We were talking, but then there was all this chaos on Torao’s end of the line. No one was responding. It sounded dangerous, so we decided to help.”

Ah. Law supposed he had gotten distracted by Vergo’s appearance and hadn’t considered how that would have sounded to the Straw Hats listening in.

“So, what exactly happened to cause this?” the cat burglar asked, gesturing between Straw Hat and Law. Though she’d agreed to trust Straw Hat, she was still suspicious of Law—and she was right to be.

Still, Law ignored her. They didn’t have time for this; Vergo wouldn’t stay down long, even after taking a hit like that.

“If you want to rescue the children, this would be the time to do it,” he said.

“What about him?” Straw Hat asked, nodding back toward Vergo.

Law grimaced as he noticed Vergo stirring. “I can handle it.”

“Because that went so well before,” Black Leg muttered.

Law ignored him as well. He didn’t have Seastone draining his abilities now. “I’ll handle it,” he repeated, looking directly at Straw Hat. Vergo might be taking an excuse to finish what he’d started thirteen years earlier, but Law wasn’t a terminally ill child anymore. It was unfinished business for them both.

“Luffy, what—” the cat burglar started.

But Straw Hat studied Law’s face for a long moment and seemed to find whatever he was looking for because he nodded. “Okay.”

Law felt a measure of relief at the response; it wasn’t that he needed Straw Hat’s permission to take on Vergo—alliance or not, he wouldn’t let anyone take this fight from him—but having his agreement was a lot easier. His crew would follow his lead, and they’d be able to accomplish both their tasks and move on to rescuing Law’s nakama.

“What?” several Straw Hats gasped.

“Okay,” Straw Hat repeated. “Torao will handle the Verto guy, and we’ll go after the kids.”

“You think I’m going to let that happen?” Vergo said. He’d risen to his feet and stood, arms crossed, in front of the doorway the Straw Hats would need to go through to find the children.

Straw Hat made to draw his arm back again, but before he could strike, Law held out a hand. Straw Hat stopped, eyeing Law curiously.

“Go. Caesar and Monet are still with the children. They’re both Fruit users, so don’t take them lightly.”

“But—”

Law Shambled Vergo into the cage, and, with a few twists of his fingers, retwined the wires holding the front of the cage together. The doorway was now open, and Vergo cursed. The cage wouldn’t hold him long, but it didn’t need to—just long enough for the others to leave.

Straw Hat whooped. “Thanks, Torao!” he called as he charged forward, the promise of a fight clearly drawing him like a magnet.

“Wait, Luffy!” the cat burglar called, running after her captain. “You don’t know where you’re going!”

Straw Hat’s laughter echoed against the metal walls as the Straw Hats and, Law noticed, Smoker’s second filed out of the open doorway. Smoker, however, remained where he was; he’d gotten to his feet while Law was talking to the Straw Hats. Law narrowed his eyes at the other man.

“This is my fight, White Chase-ya. Stay out of my way.”

“That man is a traitor to the Marines, and I plan to see justice done,” Smoker said, voice tight, as he strode up next to Law. “Don’t get in my way, pirate.”

Law and Smoker both turned at the sound of a metallic slam; Vergo had kicked the cage’s front out, the metal wiring sliding several feet across the floor before coming to rest. Though Vergo’s eyes were still hidden behind his glasses, Law could feel the anger radiating off the man.

“Enough,” he snapped, stepping back into the room.

“My thoughts exactly,” Smoker roared, charging at Vergo. “Traitor!”

Law sighed but didn’t intervene. Though he thought the man was being foolish considering how his previous attack had failed, Law could understand his rage at realizing Vergo, the base commander of his own unit, was a traitor.

However, Smoker wouldn’t get an advantage on Vergo this way; Vergo’s haki was superior to the other vice admiral’s. The first Corazon didn’t have a Devil Fruit to enhance his attacks, so he’d trained and honed his haki over the years until his masterful control and overwhelming power became what he was known for. For a Logia like Smoker, Vergo was a bad matchup.

Still, if he wanted to wear Vergo down while Law took a few moments to rest, Law wasn’t going to object. At full strength, Law wasn’t particularly concerned about taking Vergo on, but he didn’t want to take any chances when he was unsteady with a head injury. As the two vice admirals clashed, Law scanned the room until he found Smoker’s jitte. He could still feel the ghost of the Seastone tip slamming into his back, causing his Room to fall around him as weakness spread through his entire body. Law grimaced, but, grudgingly, he summoned the weapon into his hand.

“White Chase-ya,” he called as Smoker fell back from a swipe of Vergo’s bamboo stick.

“What?” Smoker demanded, not looking toward Law.

“Catch.” He tossed the jitte in the man’s direction.

Smoker’s eyes flicked in his direction then widened as he saw his weapon flying in his direction. He sent a smoky arm toward it, grabbing the hilt before Vergo could interfere. He grunted a nod in Law’s direction, clearly unhappy to owe Law anything else.

Even with his jitte, Smoker was clearly outmatched. Vergo’s haki-coated arms were able to strike Smoker’s smoke form, forcing him to revert to his base form. They traded blows, Vergo’s bamboo stick with Smoker’s jitte. Vergo’s haki-enhanced hits pushed Smoker into retreat.

“It’s no use, Smoker-kun,” Vergo taunted. “You’re no match for me.”

“You’ve betrayed G-5. The men trusted you. I’ll see you pay for that, pirate,” Smoker snarled back.

Vergo side-stepped Smoker’s blow and looked at him curiously. “You seem to care for those morons. Why?”

Smoker leapt at Vergo, only to be pushed aside by his bamboo. “Because they’re my men!”

Vergo tsked. “And that is your problem, Smoker-kun. Placing loyalty in trash. You will only end up discarded along with them.”

Smoker roared in response, but Vergo kicked out and tripped Smoker. Smoker fell backwards, hissing as his back hit the floor. His eyes widened as Vergo suddenly appeared above him, ready to strike a killing blow with his bamboo.

Deciding he’d seen enough, Law twitched his fingers, sending Vergo to the far side of the room.

“Law,” Vergo growled when he realized what had happened. “Don’t interfere. I’ll have time for you, too.”

Law rolled his eyes and turned back to Smoker. “Enough, White Chase-ya.”

“Dammit, Corazon! I can still—” He broke off, wincing at what Law would guess were broken ribs from Vergo’s many haki-enhanced blows.

“I can see that,” Law replied wryly. “Don’t make me move you, too.”

Smoker glowered but didn’t argue.

As Vergo started charging back toward Law and Smoker, Law Shambled himself across the room, directly into Vergo’s path. He swung Kikoku, but Vergo dodged just in time. A large chunk of the wall behind Vergo came down with a loud clatter. Law swung his blade several more times to create smaller pieces of metal from the fallen wall.

Law turned on his heel and immediately jumped back toward Vergo, using Kikoku to block a flurry of blows. His arms shook under the strain of countering the strikes, but he gritted his teeth then powered forward, driving Vergo back.

Lifting a finger, Law used Takt to lift the metal pieces he’d created and hurled them toward Vergo. The vice admiral cursed and dodged the large sheets of metal, knocking those he couldn’t dodge away with his stick.

“What’s wrong, Vergo?” Law taunted as he ducked under the flying pieces of metal to approach his target. “Not so easy when your target isn’t shackled in Seastone?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Law.”

Law sent a large piece of metal Vergo had already knocked away back toward Vergo and ducked behind it; Law followed its path, so when Vergo knocked it out of his way again, he jolted in surprise as Law suddenly appeared. He swung his bamboo to push Law back, but Law ducked under Vergo’s outstretched arm, catching the man off-guard.

Law shoved his free hand forward into Vergo’s chest. Mes.

Vergo gasped as his heart was expelled backward. He slumped forward as Law summoned the heart into his hand.

“Bastard,” Vergo hissed.

To his credit, Vergo’s heartrate remained steady as he kneeled in front of Law. Even now, he wouldn’t let his successor rattle him.

“I have your life literally in my hand, Vergo,” Law said, eyeing the heart. “I’d watch my tongue if I were you.”

“And what will you do with it, boy?” Vergo sneered, looking up. “Kill me?”

As Law felt the heart pulse steady in his hand, memories of Minion Island flashed in front of his mind’s eye.

Finding Vergo as he looked for help for the fallen Cora-san.

Vergo and Cora-san recognizing each other.

Vergo beating the wounded Cora-san, taunting him all the while.

Vergo beating Law, no sympathy for a dying child.

Vergo leaving them both, battered and bloody, in the snow to report to Doflamingo.

Law squeezed the heart, and Vergo writhed on the ground, pained groans coming through his clenched teeth.

Cora-san. Law released his grip on the heart. Vergo let out relieved gasps and slowly stilled.

“Corazon,” Smoker said slowly, as if afraid to spook Law. “He needs to face justice.”

Cora-san had always believed in justice. He hadn’t wanted to kill Doflamingo but bring him in. He wouldn’t want to kill Vergo either but instead, like Smoker, to bring him to justice.

Law wasn’t like them.

“Justice,” he scoffed bitterly, eyes never leaving the heart in his hand. “Where was justice when my little sister collapsed from Amber Lead Disease at seven years old and died as my parents’ clinic burned to the ground? Where was justice when soldiers destroyed my country then covered it up?” Law could hear his voice rising in his ears as he spoke, but he didn’t care. Years of pent-up rage flowed through his veins. “Where was justice when the man who saved me was murdered for it? Where was justice—”

He cut himself off at the sound of Vergo’s choking laughter, throat tightening as he realized what he’d just said.

“There’s no such thing as justice, Smoker-kun,” Vergo said between pained gasps. “There is only strength and weakness.” He turned his head to stare at Law. “And your precious Cora-san was weak, Law. Just like you.”

Fury rising in his chest, Law squeezed the heart again, Vergo’s screams a melody to his ears.

When Law let go of the heart once more, Vergo collapsed to the floor and panted. For years, Law had waited for the chance to avenge what Vergo had done to him and Cora-san that night; Vergo had haunted his nightmares, a looming figure of cruelty. But now, laid out on the ground and trying to hold onto his pride in his defeat, Law thought he looked pathetic.

And just like that, the fury drained out of him, leaving him feeling oddly hollow.

“So now what, Law?” Vergo asked between gasps for air. “You can’t kill me.”

Law raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“What do you think Doffy would do to you if you did? To your crew?”

Law barked a humorless laugh. “If he thinks I’m a traitor, we’re all dead anyway.” He narrowed his eyes. “Might as well take you with me.”

Vergo frowned. “You know how the Family deals with traitors.”

“I do,” Law agreed.

“He’ll never let you go,” Vergo said. “Not until he’s done with you. Wherever you go, he’ll find you.”

“I know.” That was why he’d return to Dressrosa once his business here was done. “Don’t worry, Vergo-san. I’ll file it away as a tragic accident at sea.”

He tightened his grip around Vergo’s heart, watching as the man writhed. He felt… nothing. Vergo coughed blood, but the satisfaction Law had expected to feel at the sight of Vergo dying at his hands was missing, sucked into the hollowness in his chest.

“Corazon, you don’t have to do this,” Smoker spoke up. “I can take him in.”

Law tightened his grip further. “You really think Doflamingo would let his favorite subordinate be locked up in Impel Down?”

“Even Warlords don’t have the power to stop something like that,” Smoker replied with a frown.

Law shook his head. “He has more connections than that, White Chase-ya.” If Vergo left Punk Hazard alive, Law and his crew were assured slow, agonizing deaths. If Law killed Vergo now, there was still a chance this could be salvaged.

Vergo huffed a strained laugh around his cries. “He’s. Right. Smoker-kun. You. Have. No idea. Who. You’re. Dealing with.”

Smoker looked between the two pirates and shook his head but said nothing. Law continued squeezing the heart, waiting to feel something after all this time.

“What’s wrong, Law?” Vergo panted. “Don’t have. The stones. To finish it?”

“Hardly.”

Law closed his fist completely, crushing the heart until Vergo let out a final bloody gasp then went limp.

Still feeling that odd emptiness, he opened his hand dropped the still heart next to the corpse.

“That was for Cora-san.”

Next chapter

#I've had this plotted out for a while #but was struggling to get it on the page #I really like how it turned out though #Trafalgar Law #Vergo #Smoker #One Piece #One Piece fanfic #One Piece fanfiction #Caitlin's fic

10 notes · View notes

licenselesswriter · 4 years ago

Note

1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 13, 14, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 41, 44. And if I could send more, I would.

Inspiration and Reading Asks:

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction? Started reading when I was 12, started writing it, when I was 14, so reading, 19 years ago, and writing 17 years ago.

2. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both? I’m a 33.3% reader, 33.3% WIP machine, a 33.4% writer, and 100% mess, I usually spend my time doing an absurd amount of WIP that comes out of thin air, like, I can be eating an apple, boom, Bori WIP, a cup of coffee? Boom, Roro WIP, breathing? Boom, Lucaya WIP (that last one happens the most)

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do? It’s called Unfaithful (EN), it’s on fanfiction.net, and honestly, it’s so well written, that I had nausea 3 times while reading it, the pain was so palpable that I felt ill from it.

4. Link your three favorite fics right now. Right now, and in order 1 - Unfaithful (EN) 2 - Twenty Nights 3 - Perfect

6. How do you find a new fic to read? Where do you primarily read fanfiction? Fanfiction or AO3, and have an excel doc with my favorite ships, then I go to the random number generator, putting 1 as the minimum and maximum the number of the last ship I added to the list, then hit random, and read about that ship, keep things fresh.

7. Do you prefer to read short fics or long fics? Both.

8. How often do you reblog/comment on fics that you like? When they are on Tumblr, a few times.

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community. I’m sorry, but I don’t know if they have Tumblr, so, amirmitchell, snowdrifts, and Onde Tu Esteves

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for? Fandom: Game of Thrones, love all those modern universe AU I have to say. Pairing: Lucaya (Not a surprise) Character: Lucas Friar, Portgas D. Ace, Roronoa Zoro, or Prince Zuko.

Fanfiction Writing Asks:

11. How do you come up with your fic titles? Coffee, food, and usually, Spotify, all that, sometimes, make my brain work into having titles about the things I want to write.

13. Do you outline your fics? How much of a headache would someone get if they just looked at an outline of yours without reading the fic? I do outlines, in 5 stages, so a pretty big one. 1 - I write in my notebook, what I want to write, like a general idea. 2 - Post it on my walls and door, to give the story some structure. 3 - Notebook outline the arch of the story. 4 - Outline every chapter on word. 5 - Reduce that chapter into mini arches to write faster.

14. Do you have a personal word minimum that you hold yourself too? Why or why not? I do (now), I usually don’t post anything that is less than 2900 words, Why? because we must not forget that writers not only write for people in the fandom, they mainly write for themselves, and I love to read something among that word count because that’s long enough to keep me on the hook.

16. Do you research for your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you gone down by accident when researching? I do research for my fics, how deep? I can give indications for divorce paperwork in the state of New York, even if you want or not to go scorch the earth with the “fault” rule, I can give an appropriate value to an apartment or a house in New York, Texas, Nashville, and San Francisco, and I can do taxes on those states too, and I know more about how high school classes work in the US than in my country, even when I went to those classes, and I’m from Santiago, Chile, you know, in South America, like, the last country of South America

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback? I don’t, once I finish writing something, I run away, and watch anime for a few hours, or work (Yeah, sometimes I write on my lunch hour)

18. Do you have a WIP that you keep telling yourself you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably a lie? I do apologize to “The Games we Play” I have no idea how I outlined your 26 chapters, but I’m still on chapter 2, and I’m sorry.

19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just hit post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)? Sometimes I do because sometimes, I write things wrong.

20. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process? That happiness I get when I’m in the Zone, and I write something that makes me say “Fuck, that was good”

21. What’s your least favorite part about the fanfiction writing process? I call it “The Deep White”, also known as writer’s block.

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write? I don’t write it anymore, because I was banned from a forum for writing it, but I love to write a bad ending, like “Killing the main character that I make you love for 30 chapters in the end” ending. I’m evil, I know, sue me.

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write? The “Good girl trying to change the bad boy,” I hate, apologies, I DESPISE that trope, it’s not cool, first, to be with someone abusive, and second, to try to change someone because you think you’re so almighty that you will change him (or her) because of love, bs, I SAID BS.

25. Do you listen to music as you write? If possible, link your writing playlist. I do, and of course, it’s named “Writing Shiet” because my brain can only process decent titles for fics (Says the guy who once named a fic “No Title”) Here’s the link

26. What’s your biggest distraction when writing? Anime and Manga.

27. Do you like to give your readers some warning of what might be coming or just slap them in the face with content at random? I don’t usually do it, but when I do it, I do it cryptic, like “You might be surprised, but this, I called in the beginning.”

28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)? I ignore it, If I can ignore good advice, ignore something that gives me more stress it’s an easy cake.

29. Have you ever written for an exchange or event of some kind? Which one(s)? Did you enjoy it? I did but didn’t submit, I wrote for 2019 fictoberfest on Tumblr, but never send a shit, I did enjoy it tho

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words. "Well, we're still not in Texas," he says, implying something not PG-13 at all. "My God, in what did I turn you?" Maya teases him before getting up and grab his hand, pulling him up. Lucas grins at her, "On," he replies, making Maya flirty hit his chest

31. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones? I love writing Lucas and Maya, and honestly don’t know if it helps me or not LOL.

32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from? 1 - From November to June CH3 A few hours later, Maya heard a knock on her door. She takes a peek through the magic eye on her door and saw Lucas. She grabs her phone and fastly texts him. She was able to hear the 'ding' of his phone, and spying through the magic eye she saw his reaction. "Ok, first of all, I'm not that, second, my mother is not that, and third, I'm not gonna put that there, that's fucking gross, and probably deadly if you consider the size of my hands." he defends himself. 2 - Ten Duel Commandments CH2 Maya smiles at him, "Since you're all Texan cowboy goody-good boy, I imagine you would relate more with the honorable Lord Stark," she teases him. "Says the woman who read three books in a row and texts me at four in the morning," he replies before pulling out his phone, "R+L=J," he teases her, reading her text. "That's private, asshole," Maya recriminates him. 3 - The One Who Stayed CH18 "Then, I have less... GET OFF ME FUCKER!" Maya screamed, punching the person who grabbed her arm, "Holy shit, Lucas." she says, looking at the person she just hit. "Noted, never approach to you by surprise." Lucas says on the floor, "Well, this makes me feel more confident about you being here alone." he says before start laughing.

33. What do you like writing better: one-shots or multi-chapter stuff? Multi-chapter, unless, it’s wedding fics because I love weddings.

34. How much of yourself and your life experiences do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is? None.

35. How much has writing fic changed your life? Not much, but has made me happier.

36. Are there any fics or fandoms you’re embarrassed to have written or been part of? The Glee Project Fandom.

37. Give an update on your current WIP - if you don’t have one, give a sneak peek to a title or idea that you have and would like to write. "Shawn called him, and he assures him that if you try something inappropriate, he has a shotgun," she adds, making Lucas's face go pale. "Well, guess like father, like son," he comments, making Maya show unexpected interest in his words.

38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)? As I explained in the outline question, pretty tame if we count that I have my outline process numbered LOL.

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on? That I try to make it real, I try to make people feel something when they read.

41. What’s your most popular fic (with the most notes on Tumblr, most hits/kudos on ao3)? Tumblr? The One Who Stayed Fanfiction.net? Ten Duel Commandments

44. Rant about something writing-related. Please, let’s stop glorifying the “Bad Boy” character, he’s an asshole, allow me to explain, Bakugo, fucking asshole, he’s just a bully with an oversized ego, no, he’s not a tsundere, no, it’s not cute, that shit is abusive, and it really makes me want to punch people in their nose when the romanticize that bullshit.

Done

(Told ya I was bored)

#Licenseless Answers

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ciriceart · 4 years ago

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IN THE ABSENCE OF GOOD IDEAS - Another non-comprehensive playlist

You spend another hour trying to find each other, to recognize each other. You drink a little too much, and try a little too hard. And you go home to a cold bed and think, that was fine. And your life is a long line of fine.

What if there was another story?

A History of Bad Men

It's easy for me, I got a head start running away [...] How did you learn to be sick, so cunning / It's easy to sing, but you just keep on humming along / Did you hear that? I got a real bad feeling

This is not the place for you to be in, my man. Stop ignoring the red flags, you gotta get outta there! This one works very well thematically. The instrumentals and vocals really drag on and give a good look into Cirice’s general disposition as well as his taste in music. He likes sludgy, doom and gloom-type shit.

Everyone Gets Left Behind

Sometimes we're drunker than a little / And I swear I don't have to throw up (liar) / And the best times are always the worst with the people we love [...] I must have died and gone to Heaven / 'Cause this is boring as Hell

Works for both early and later plot points! No further commentary necessary.

Some Kind of Disaster Relief

You got more trouble than you can handle, honey! / The fuck you gonna do? How you gonna scrape on by? / I do believe that there are two things you do in this situation / Leave town, or go into hiding / Cause some people got brains and other people got talent, others just look good / You and me, we got none of those things, but listen up [...] It's a rabbit suffocating in a rabbit hole / It's politics as usual.

Lyrics-wise, this song doesn't have very much to do with what’s going on outside of the intro. The intro is pretty fucking spot on. (If you ignore the glaring issue of P2 having more than enough brains/talent/looks for the both of em.)

The title is the same as a certain very important chapter, but it’s here because this is more or less what Cirice sounds like when his voice gets above mumbling-speaking level. Every time he’s depicted as loud, obnoxious and yelling, I want you to hear this intro in your head.

Mental Illness as Mating Ritual

I'm a number, I'm a clown / I'm a ruined halfwit, in a hospital gown / You're a victim? Get in line! / It's okay, I'm damaged by design [...] This body's wrecked, but it's mine [...] It's okay, I know, better luck next time.

Sort of coming to terms with the whole, you know, thing. Sort of. Lots of aggression, lashing out and feeling overwhelmed, and then some more lashing out for good measure, but trying very very hard to look like he’s owning it.

Goddamn These Hands of Mine

So goddamn this city / Goddamn these people / Goddamn this weather / And goddamn these broken down hands of mine

Have you ever been so angry and tired and fed up with the nonstop inane bullshit of everybody around you and everyday life that you can’t see straight, and your hands are shaking, and you can feel your pulse hammering in your throat, and it’s made even worse by you knowing that you’re part of the problem? Don’t you get tired of (trying and failing at) being nice all the time? Don’t you just wanna go apeshit?

This song is pretty much exactly what hypomanic agitation sounds like. Trust me.

A Drink To Death

It'll eat your insides, your brain burns, and your skin dries / Bumbling through the alleys, like you think you're still alive / I wanna hold you closely, I wanna smell your sweat [...] There will be no candles, there will be no romance, I will be alone, we will not hold hands [...] And if I pass out, wake me up / I may be drunk, but I'm not drunk enough / We were nice together, weren't we once?

This one is a holdover from the original version of this story, which was written in late 2018, if you can believe it. During the rewriting process, I thought it would be nice to write something... nice. I still have a lot of fondness for this song in the context of II/Cirice - it still works quite well for both of their inner disasterbrain feelings and respective bad coping skills, even if it isn’t as applicable anymore in a literal sense. Doesn’t mean they can’t still dance half-drunk in the office past closing time to some That Handsome Devil played over shitty desktop speakers.

There You Are (Hiding Place)

Stumbled on a long walk somewhere / So many places we don't belong / So few we do [...] I was afraid to find an older me alive in you [...] And you go silent by your own hands / You break down and you leave / You go nightly with my panic / I get angry / I can't sleep

This one is... a lot. Probably one of the most important songs, relationship-wise, but I don’t have many words as to why. I’m mostly sort of embarrassed to even explain this one in detail. The song speaks for itself, probably.

Pepper

I don't mind the sun sometimes, the images it shows / I can taste you on my lips and smell you in my clothes / Cinnamon and sugary and softly spoken lies / You never know just how you look through other people's eyes

The listing of names and descriptors that make up the bulk of this song does a fairly good job of capturing, I guess, the way that Cirice views the happenings around him. He listens to a lot of shit from a lot of people; it’s part of his job at first, before he moves on to the job given to him by Papa II later on.

There’s a clear image that I have of Cirice leaving the administrative building right around sunset and pausing on the front steps before he starts making his way home. He listens to his headphones during work a lot and Pepper makes for a pretty damn good “walking home and contemplating some interesting new tender feelings” song, in my experience. “I don’t really give a fuck about all the rest of this shit, but I kind of give a major fuck about you” kinda vibes.

Fun fact, this song also played a role in figuring out Cirice’s “voice”. In the instances where he’s feeling shut down and closed off, this is a close approximation of what he sounds like.

And just like the previous post, these are only a couple songs. They’re mostly in order now though, seeing as pretty much anyone aware of father cirice is aware of the circumstances of his backstory.

Next up is (drumroll) the Nihil/Imperator 80s road trip ficm, which gives me a crisis every time I get sent an update/asked to read something over. I’ll probably type up some stuff later after Shiv has another listen to my playlist to make sure the mood is right =^)

#this is the one with some real meat on it #ITSNOT AS DEPRESSING AS THE SONG TITLES SOUND #itaogi #playlist #father cirice

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presidentrhodes · 5 years ago

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iron husbands?

yaaaaaas thank u ❤️❤️❤️

who’s the werewolf and who’s the hunter

tony is the hunter; he comes from a long family of hunters who hunted werewolves in europe and then crossed the pond to come to the us. rhodey is heir/alpha to one of the royal bloodlines and centuries of survival instincts carved into his very dna has taught him to keep a low profile. rhodey's kept an eye on tony since college because their respective bloodlines have a long, bloody history. when wolves start turning up dead, rhodey assumes tony must be responsible, so he shows up in new york, ready to put tony's entrails on display in time square as a statement to the humans. except, to his surprise, he finds out tony has not only left his family's bloody history behind in the past, he's become a vocal activist campaigning for the rights of magical creatures in the country, including the werewolves. cue, rhodey and tony team up to find out who's killing the wolves and take them down; in the process, they obviously fall in love.

who’s the mermaid and who’s the fisherman

tony is the mermaid; he's been cast out of his family because of a mistake that got many merpeople and other marine creatures killed. he's been struggling to survive in the vast depths of the ocean, depressed, lonely and almost going out of his mind. one day, he sees a fishing boat capsize; while the land breathers are obviously an enemy, he ignores his basic survival instincts to help the fisherman struggling to stay afloat in the rough waters. tony brings the fisherman to a nearby island, with lots of greenery in the middle and no humans on it, and tends to his wounds (a broken arm, cuts and bruises etc). when the fisherman comes to, tony learns his name is rhodey and that, like him, he had also been cast out of his family and has nowhere else to go; that's why rhodey had set off for the ocean, hoping the waters would take him somewhere new. tony proposes that given their similar situation, they can begin their life anew on the island. and rhodey agrees.

who’s the witch and who’s the familiar

tony's the witch, rhodey is the familiar. tony spent the first 20 years of his life thinking he didn't have magic, even though everyone in his family is a witch or a warlock. rhodey's an animagus; his animal form is a grey wolf, and he had been with tony since he was a puppy and tony an infant. one day, tony is being chased by a wendigo and rhodey leaps in front of it to save tony's life, getting seriously wounded in the process. tony panics because rhodey's literally bleeding out in his arms and he summons every last bit of strength and wills rhodey's wounds to close shut. they do; and suddenly tony feels the magic surge through his veins, beat against his pulse and thrum in his ears. rhodey's wounds heal completely within minutes and tony, with his newfound powers, drags his best friend and familiar to the nearest bar for a celebratory drink because "fuck you, howard, i'm a witch."

who’s the barista and who’s the coffee addict

tony is the barista. he runs a small coffee shop that fits barely 10 people indoors and business has been bad ever since a fancier café opened across the road. tony knows he's going to probably have to close down soon and move out of the city because he can no longer afford rent. one night, right before he's about to close for the day, a tired businessman comes stumbling in and offers a $100 bill for a cup of coffee. tony notices how distressed and tired the man looks, so he lets him in and makes him a strong cup of coffee and warms up some meat pie, which the latter accepts gratefully. he finds out that rhodey's under a lot of stress because the board of directors at his company is trying to oust him from power. tony lends rhodey a listening ear that he desperately needs and they stay there in the café until 3am. from next day onwards, rhodey becomes a regular patron at the café, but business still dwindles until one day, tony puts up a notice outside informing customers that he will close down by the end of the week. rhodey doesn't show up for the next several days and tony assumes he probably gets his coffee from the other café now; until, on friday, as tony's about to close his outlet for the final time, rhodey shows up and hands him a stack of papers: it's the purchase deed for the space across the road. turns out, rhodey made the other café owner an offer they couldn't turn down. rhodey tells tony that he quit his job as ceo of his company and asks tony if he wants to be business partners. within a month, they're running the café from across the road and business has never been better; tony still works as barista from time to time even though they now have 10 full-time staff and rhodey's already talking about plans to create more franchises across the country. at some point, they evolve from being just business partners to...well, partners.

who’s the professor and who’s the TA

tony's the TA/PhD candidate and rhodey's the professor. they are both astrophysicists by training and they study pulsars for research. needless to say, their academic opinions differ plenty and whenever tony isn't marking problem sets and rhodey isn't lecturing young, impressionable minds, they're arguing about pulsars and what they can tell the world about matter and the existence of other exo-planets over a night cap. tony is envied by the other doctoral candidates in his year because he gets to spend so much time in professor rhodes' proximity (hello??? hot, youngish professor who's super accomplished, super smart, has some graying hair, wears tight polos and black-rimmed glasses? fucking hell...) in this instance tony's like 29, rhodey's about 34.

who’s the knight and who’s the prince(ss)

rhodey's the knight and tony's the prince. here's the backstory: tony's mum was king howard's first wife. when howard remarried, he had another son, prince arno. per the kingdom's rules on succession, you can only ascend the throne if you're of pure royal blood. tony's mum was a commoner, so she was never afforded the royal title of queen, whereas howard's second wife was a princess from a neighbouring kingdom. that said, king howard wants tony to inherit the throne, something that many of his close advisors as well as arno and his mother refuse to accept. they see tony as an impediment and when howard falls ill, numerous attempts are made on tony's life. tony is obviously very booksmart and he excels at strategy, which is why howard wants him to be king. when howard senses a possible civil war could be brewing in the kingdom, between supporters who want tony to be king and those who'd prefer arno, he calls aside a young knight, sir james, and makes him swear on his life to protect tony. (howard knew tony and rhodey had been childhood friends, which is why he approached him in the first place) when shit hits the proverbial ceiling, rhodey protects tony from all manners of assassination attempts until arno and his mother are finally thwarted and kicked out of the kingdom. tony becomes king and rhodey becomes his most trusted advisor, friend, confidante, and general. basically, tony hands the keys of the kingdom to rhodey and relies on him and his decisions to run it.

who’s the teacher and who’s the single parent

tony teaches kindergarten and loves his young charges very much. one day, they're joined by a shy, quiet new student, lila, and her overly anxious uncle, james. tony tries to reassure rhodey that lila, who had just lost her parents, would be fine and that he'd make sure she isn't being bullied or harassed for being the new kid. as the term progresses, lila slowly comes out of her shell; she makes friends, she loves recess, she loves colouring, and she is good with numbers. every week tony calls his kids' parents to update them on their children; his conversations with rhodey, however, last twice as long and become twice as frequent, until one day rhodey invites tony to lila's birthday party. tony isn't sure how to read into this: the other parents have never really invited him to their kids' birthdays and yet he doesn't want to turn down the invitation from the rhodes' (mostly because he doesn't want to upset young lila). though nothing happens at the birthday party, rhodey keeps asking him out. it starts under the pretext of wanting to know how lila is doing and morphs into them just spending time together until tony impulsively kisses rhodey on the day of lila's graduation to k2. with lila no longer his student, tony asks rhodey out on a proper date and soon he's spending his weekends at the rhodes' place until about a year later, he moves in with rhodey and lila.

who’s the writer and who’s the editor

rhodey is the editor for the opinions section in one of the top newspapers; he has a pretty fierce reputation of being a hardass editor who would chew and spit out anyone making rookie mistakes in the entire newsroom. new writers and reporters basically cower in fear; tony's an established hotshot columnist who's been headhunted from a rival paper to write a weekly political column. he is pretty well-known among politicos and is well read by a loyal audience, both offline and online. tony is basically used to getting his way until he submits his first copy for edit and rhodey returns it, each page crossed out in red, and with a remark on the final page that read: our company motto may be all news fit to print, but i am not letting this garbage print. tony is furious. how dare someone call his columns garbage when the news organisation is literally paying him a six-figure salary to write them. he marches up to rhodey's office and barges in, ready to fight. but he stops on track and blushes when he realises this asshole editor is the same handsome college senior that tony had a short, deeply physical relationship with almost 20 years ago. the argument just melts away from him and even rhodey can't find it in him to be as curt and critical as he is to the other writers because damn...the encounter brings up a lot of memories and regrets they have both had since leaving college and then losing touch.

send me a ship!

#tony stark #james rhodes #ironhusbands #tonyrhodey #rhodeytony #asks #meme #polocayeval

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crowsent · 5 years ago

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👶,⭐,💘, and💻. Love you!!

thank you for ask anon! writer ask game is here if yall wanna send in something. still taking asks for these btw

👶- advice for new writers =

yall this is hella fucking generic but PRACTISE. theres a reason almost literally every writer on tumblr gives the advise of “practise practise practise” and that reason is it works. practise doesnt mean ‘oh just write bc youll automatically get better over time’ it means ‘write bc if you dont, you wont figure out what you need to improve.’ did yall know that i literally had no sentence variation in the past? i started every sentence with [character name] or [character pronoun] and i didnt realise until i was 15/16 and i only realised bc i started writing a lot.

i think there’s a fear of failure with new writers. there’s this lingering doubt of “what if its not good?” and boy howdy i will answer that question right fucking now. it wont be good. when i compare my current work to my earlier work, my earlier work sucked fucking shit. i spelled soldier with a fucking ‘j’ and i had no idea what the hell a point of view was. and thats okay. whoever tells you that youre going to perfect writing is a fucking liar. there is no perfecting writing. 20 years from now, imma look at the writing from today and im gonna think it sucks shit. writing is a process. its a craft. you get better and better over time and the way you get better is by experimenting w different styles, different genres, different ways of writing.

and the only way you can experiment and improve is through practise. in video games, especially rpgs (which are my favourite kind of video games), you struggle in the early game. youre at a low level, you dont have good equipment, you have a hard time moving to the next area. but the only way you progress is by grinding, gaining levels, and getting stronger. same w writing. if youre a level 1 writer, just starting out, no idea what to do, just experiment. fuck around a bit. write crackships, write rarepairs, write niche self-indulgent reader/character fics. at the end of the day, you should write for yourself. its good and cool if other people like your stuff and validate all your hard work, but at the end of the day, the one who should enjoy your writing the most is yourself.

you WILL mess up and you WILL struggle, but thats the only way you can improve. i struggle with pacing the most. still do. but others might have pacing down pat and struggle instead with word choice or pov or something else. cant figure out where you need to improve if you dont write, so just practise and worry about all the fine print later

⭐️- how do you get your inspiration? =

this is definitely not universal, but i just sit on my bed, close my eyes, and meditate. cycle through all my emotions and thoughts and filter them out. then i just toss everything out the damn window. like. id just meditate for a while, focus on breathing, on experiencing the present, picture a field and a tree and myself and breathe. thoughts fly by and i let them happen but dont focus on it.

meditating gives me some semblance of emotional control bc i normally have none, and it gives me kind of this space. this safe space that only exists for me and me alone. so i use that space to let the world drift away. just me and my thoughts and sometimes, those thoughts end up being good writing ideas. but i usually meditate for a set amount of time. like 15 minutes or 30 minutes so i dont write until i finish meditating.

then when i get out of my headspace, i open up my laptop and see what i remember. thinking too hard about something causes it to muddy up. same with art. in digital art, artists flip the canvas to refresh their eyes, see if there’s anything weird or wonky about the illustration that they normally dont see bc theyve gotten used to it. flipping the canvas is like giving our eyes a jumpstart and lets us see what we could do better. in traditional art, its turning the canvas this way and that or repositioning yourself. meditating is like that. a break. a cleanse. a kind of pause where you dont think about anything and just try to process what you already have. you relax and kind of let yourself float down a river of thoughts and sometimes, a fish would jump out of that river and youd go “hey, thats a good idea. i should try that” so when you get out of the river, youre refreshed and ready to go.

same principle with showers. more ideas come to you in the shower when you dont have anything to write with bc youre not thinking about it. youre not focusing on finding inspiration or motivation so ideas naturally flow through you. you know that feeling when you want to do x then someone comes along and says “hey you should do x” and suddenly all motivation to do x leaves? same w your brain. focus too much on “i should be writing” or “i want inspiration” and its never gonna come. just let things happen. at least, thats how i do it. some people might get inspiration by reading or watching tv. everyones different so if thats not what works out for you, dont feel pressured to try my method

💘- what’s your favorite AU? Least favorite? =

magic au. specifically fantasy au set in like a pre-modern era. shows like avatar where theres all this magic and fantastical beasts and so on and so forth. semi-modern like six of crows and nevernight are great too. i want that magic to be woven into people’s lives. harry potter is okay but there’s like this separation between magic and muggle. there’s this feeling of “magic” but like as a tool. like a spoon or a gun or a shovel. i want magic au’s that are INTEGRATED with the world its set in.

like in atla, earth kingdom people have trains they move with bending while fire nation people have machines powered by heat and steam. both correspond to their bending and makes sense for the world they live in. but if your plot is like harry potter and its less worldbuilding and more action, then there’s this book series called seasons rising (read it. so good) where there’s a bunch of spells but the spells have character. the people using the spells GIVE it character and it feels much more intimate. pokemon does the whole fantasy mixed w reality better. give two trainers the exact same pokemon and by the time that pokemon reaches lvl 50, its gonna have a different moveset, different fight style, etc bc it was shaped by the world and people around it. i like harry potter but tbh it could have been so much better

for the least favourite au, it’s A/B/O i dont like the whole “omegas are only good for breeding hurr durr” and “alphas are violent and aggressive and cant control themselves around omegas” thing and it squicks me out. major squick. i read the original harry potter squick (THAT one. yeah. you know the one) and i still hate a/b/o more. i get why people like it, and there are one or two fics set in a/b/o au that i enjoy reading, but as a whole, i severely dislike a/b/o fics.

the themes are squick, the character dynamics get so messed up, and shipping dynamics (bc a/b/o fics usually have shipping) just get so blown out of proportion. there are so many a/b/o fics that turn ooc or the character interpretations radically change or something else. no hate against a/b/o fans bc yall are amazing for writing/drawing yalls au. there are things that you can only do in this setting and exploring those things can be incredibly fun for people, but for me personally, its not an au i like to visit.

💻- three works of yours that are must reads =

i. dont know what fandom youre in anon or your genre preferences. so ill just rec you one fic for a different fandom each with kind of different genres. ts masterlist is on my side @hufflepuff-deceit and regular fanfic masterlist is on my writing blog @crownonymous

(BNHA) Viper. its my first serious attempt at fanfic in YEARS and its my baby. currently has 7 chapters, i havent updated it in a while bc im hyperfocused on ts rn, but i love it to bits. its just all of my fav bnha fics crammed into one fic. quirkless kind of villain izuku with stain as a mentor as they work together to bring light to the injustices of hero society and where bakugos bullying has visible and long-lasting repercussions? sign me the fuck up. you can read it on ao3 HERE bc its not on tumblr. kind of fast-paced, has a lot more action scenes than anything else ive written. heavy plot-wise but has a lot of humour and comedy to break things up

(Kimetsu no Yaiba) I Pray To God He Hears You. not related to my other kny fic oleander which is a multichap retelling au. iptghhy is a standalone one-shot and kind of a character study on one giyuu tomioka. i love him so much. giyuu is my baby and i adore him. so of course i wrote a sad fic focusing on him. well technically, the fic focuses on giyuu AND his relationships. SPOILERS for chapters 130 and 131 of the manga. focuses mostly on giyuu and sabito, but there’s a fair bit of giyuu and tanjiro and urokodaki. you can read it HERE bc this is also not on tumblr. also deals with heavy things but more emotion-wise since it doesnt have that much of a plot. loss. grief. moving on. survivors guilt. that kind of stuff. very sad. hurt but with comfort, especially at the end.

(Sanders Sides) Logan’s Birthday Fic: Logicality. just what the title says. i wrote 5 different fics and published them all on logans bday but the logicality one received the most feedback and honestly? the cutest of the bunch. its gonna be crossposted onto ao3 but for now, you can read it HERE on my ts sideblog. theres no plot since its literally just domestic and relationship fluff. and puns. patton is in the fic, theres gonna be puns. nothing but good things and warm feelings bc logan deserves it.

thank you so much for such interesting asks anon! i enjoyed answering these. have a lovely day!

#crowsas answers #kny #bnha #sanders sides

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polygamyff · 5 years ago

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25. Part 4

I feel all sad, nobody is here and I am having to eat hospital food. Not even stupid Malik came to see me, and where is Shawn. I would have been there for all of that and that what hurts, I am actually awake so early too, well it’s this place. They are constantly doing shit to me, I can’t sleep or rest. I just want to be out of here, I am wondering where Shawn is now. Why is nobody here but my family said they was all here to watch me die, this is terrible. My life is terrible, least I got to see Reign. It’s kind of amazing how I made that, I can actually make beautiful ass babies and I am proud “morning” I groaned out, that voice “what is it now? I am sick of the IV, how many times you want me to pee?” I am beginning to become annoyed at this shit “soon, maybe in the afternoon. Once Domonik as seen you, also we need to make sure we get rid of the bad blood too” sighing out “ok” I mumbled “so we just need to give you some tablets, the tablet you should have been having” well this teaches me “you seem very sad today, you’re usually in the mood to annoy people” I shrugged “just nobody is here, I thought my best friend would be here but he’s not. My family are still angry with me so now I am on my own bored” which I am “there is a lot of family here for you though, we banned them. There was a lot of fighting going on, it got to a point where we said no so that could be the reason why nobody is here” I guess but it’s still bullshit, how you not going to see me when I am awake.

I have no mobile phone, just these walls and I refuse to think of things right now “Marquis’ boy, you look better than your father but then again he has a bodyguard outside his door, saw him from the window” looking up from my hands, when I asked for people to come I didn’t want him “Hakim” I said feeling very irritated already “I didn’t bring your wife, we need to talk without her around” staring ahead of me and not at Naomi’ dad, why is god like this and now I am stuck on this bed “son in law” staring at his hand, holding my hand up and and shaking his “I am glad you’re alive, Davenport hotels could never last without you” he sat down, made himself comfortable “did my daughter come? She was here” shaking my head “didn’t see her at all” which is true “lots have happened while you was not around, things I have heard and seen. You know, I could kill you right now. I could even get someone to kill you” mean mugging him “I wasn’t around so why kill me?” I said all confused “because, the world knows my only child is infertile, now I know it’s been one your people. You have a child with another woman, oh I have seen her. I have seen it all” scratching my forehead “your daughter being infertile is not my fault, you all lied to me. I just did what I needed to do” Hakim laughed “I did nothing, how am I supposed to know my daughter can’t have kids? The contract wasn’t just for you to have kids, how about making vows about actually taking care of her” shaking my head “I was high when I said those, why don’t you leave me alone and take care of your daughter. All she wants is love, she is scared of you” he sniggered “she is useless, I die, then she dies. We have nobody to take over the business, useless right? But you bought shame on my family, made us stupid. Whatever me and your dad have is gone, you will divorce my daughter and you will pay her a good amount or I will come for you and your little family. I know where they all live. Can’t hide now can you” Hakim got up from his chair “may the best man win” I said to him, I won’t go down.

Placing Reign on my bed “thank you mom” she helped me with bathing Reign, I got the hang of it now so I am proud of myself. These are the things I should be doing anyways but couldn’t, I was bust at the hospital with Maurice “it’s ok baby, she loved it. Not a single tear” my mom touched Reign’ cheek, smiling down at Reign “she has such long eyelashes, such a pretty little thing. Can’t wait to get back to normal, to get back home. Lose this weight and just be back to normal with things” my mom passed me the diaper “you didn’t say, how did it go when he saw her? We fell asleep so we didn’t know what time you both came back” my daughter is just staring around, ever so quiet “you know, I realise something. She is so much more at ease when you are around, she didn’t cry all night?” shaking my head “but I did have her in bed with me, she cried once but then slept well but yeah. Maurice was happy, I saw him, the man I love. He was crying, he saw what he could have lose, he was so close to losing the moment with her. She didn’t cry which was good, she was just staring at him. Probably thinking where the hell have you been, my heart felt so full watching them together, the way she looked at him. She loves him so much, he fed her the bottle. He was showing emotion, you was right mom” my mom smiled at me “see, look at her. She was made from love, you told me” my mom is right.

I am such a proud mother, I didn’t think I would taken to parenthood like this. I got pregnant and the pregnancy was not the best but my bond with my daughter means everything, just everything about her. She makes me happy, I am at peace with her “the best gift daddy gave me is you, and you give me the best cuddles. You do, but I think you’re going to have daddy’ eyes which is not a bad thing, you got to have something of him” I giggled, Reign upper lip flinched up, like her attempt to mimic me “you trying to smile for me?” Pressing a kiss to her cheek “can’t wait until daddy is showing you so much love, he wants all these cuddles too” my dad sighed out as he sat “I’m going to be sad when she goes Robyn, who is going to keep me company?” Khaleesi walked in after “get a dog” my bright idea “she is a good dog you know” shaking my head “you’re not having her dad, sorry. She is mine but I do think you both should get a dog” Khaleesi jumped up on the couch “don’t you start wanting some attention, Reign has got all of my attention girl” she is trying to figure out how to lay on my lap and find space “sorry girl, my daughter got this space” Khaleesi whined out, I need to give her some hugs.

My mom took Reign from me so she could put her in the crib, which knowing her she will wake up and not like being put down “when are you planning to go back to work anyways?” I asked my dad, he actually took time off for this “Wednesday, I have to go back in. Hopefully Maurice should be back by then, was he ok last night?” my parents are always cute asking about him “he is ok, he cried holding Reign. That is all I wanted, to see he was still there and he was. I am going to see him today, see if I can just speak to him. He did say he wanted to speak to me too” unlocking my phone “that is good, he is used to not showing emotions. I remember that” Damon is checking up on me, bless him “yes I know dad” I have so many messages but I don’t answer them anymore, if you my parents I do but forget my nosey ass family “on today show on Access, an update on the billionaires Marquis and Maurice Davenport and what else we know about the Davenport family” my mouth fell open “oh wow” my dad said “this has to be a joke right? Why is he even on this, I don’t get it” this is trash “if they mention my daughter I will sue them myself” dropping my phone to the floor, what is this mess.

“Maurice Davenport, heir to the Davenport empire stunned the world when he was taken into hospital for an on going illness he has since he was a child, his father Marquis thought thought to have had an heart attack when he knew of son being on that bed, Scott what is the latest” I don’t find this amusing one bit “he is well and fine, speaking to his father in law Hakim, and this what he had to say about the situation” everyone is selling out Maurice, he doesn’t even know it “how is Maurice right now?” he is walking out of the hospital “he is fine, he will be out in no time” placing my hand over my face, this is a mess. The camera switched back to the studio “what do we know about him Scott? How has he made it onto the ladder of being known to us” a video played on the screen and it looks like he was high as fuck walking with a whole bunch of people “he became a socialite with his dad’ money, moved to the Hollywood hills. He is friend with the likes of Beyonce and Jay z, his celebrity friends have all passed on their thoughts of him but it’s not just him becoming a socialite that made him well known, it was his habit of his drug use. Which then made him not worthy of the title, it was then his dad took over his life. He is a changed man now, I have met him once. He is very sociable and I wish him the best” they haven’t mentioned anything else “but he is a polygamist, he has a wife and another female. He left his wife because she couldn’t give him kids, that is just cruel” I am in shock right now “he does have a daughter, which was born beginning of this month in a private hospital, from what we know of her she is just a regular girl that lives in Anaheim. We did try and catch up with her” covering my face, that was only just last night “they was going to see him, he has hired her a bodyguard so things are pretty serious with them both. He had his wife and his mistress there” lifting my head up “we will keep you updated on that story” my dad turned the TV off “I wish you did that beforehand” I breathed out “if I hear the word mistress, I will murder Maurice!” my dad shouted.

I used a different entrance to get inside the hospital, I didn’t ask for no Jay I need Maurice to get out of the bed and sort this out. The only reason I don’t go this way is because it’s alike an extra five minute walk to get there, it’s easier going through the main entrance. This is just getting sickening, I don’t like this. My face being shown to the word like that, all I am saying is everyone is a snake as soon as Marquis and Maurice both got ill, it’s like they kept shit at bay and now everything is coming out. Pushing open the door, I didn’t bother to knock but I wish I did. Maurice’ mom, sister, lawyer and another female “Robyn” Maurice shifted up on the bed, his excitement made me happy that I couldn’t help but smiling back at him “hi” I said sheepish “where is Reign?” he looked behind me as I closed the door “with my parents, it’s best that way” I feel awkward now “is this the girl?” the unknown female, she looks like Joy anyways “yes auntie it is, this is Robyn. This is who I want to be with, she is the one that saved me” Maurice spoke up, Nalah hugged me “nice to see you, I have been trying to talk to him about the things going on and he said he wants you here. You was telling him, Wade wanted to see him” that is the man I love.

Maurice’ mom, sister and auntie left, Wade stayed behind for what ever reason. The awkwardness left the room anyways, I know Joy is trying to see my daughter but no “why are you still here?” Maurice said to him “because we have business to deal with but Robyn, you have things you want to speak about” walking over to the bed, I don’t care if Wade is here “how you been? Miss me?” I asked him “you have lost weight” placing my hands at the side of his face “I missed you a lot, I woke up with nobody here. I haven’t seen Shawn, where is he” pressing a kiss to his lips “I am not sure, he was here but as soon as you was ok he left. I don’t know where he went” Wade cleared his throat “if you can give Robyn and I like ten minutes, then you can come back. Buy a me a drink too” Maurice held my hand which stopped me from walking back to my seat “fine, I will be back. Would you like a drink?” he asked me “it’s fine” smiling at him “sit on the bed, like here on the edge. Don’t sit far” shaking my head “I really can’t, I am supposed to be resting my stitches still. I will stand here” the door closed “ok, I wanted to say I am sorry and also thank you for saving me. I just hear it from everyone, they all taking about it. She saved your life, I am just speechless. I woke up and I was brushing things off but at that moment you do, I was scared. Maybe I was stuck in a dream” that word dream “you was in my dream that night” I interrupted him “what do you mean?” I hate speaking on it “I was asleep, but it felt so real. You was there, you was telling me you was free. You loved me, you called me Bonita and you walked off. I reached out to you but my hand went through you. I woke up and it was a wake up call. You died on me, in that moment I treated you like I would anyone coming into the hospital I had too, but I gave it more. Every strength in me, I broke down crying after. You was gone, you left me” Maurice put his head down.

“I don’t think Malik was really paying attention, I was in a state. Like my breathing was going. I was losing oxygen and I could feel it, little breath’s but it was too late. I went. I was in so much pain that going in that state was better but I didn’t tell you that. I was declining rapidly” I hate hearing this “he called me that night, and took his mother off and put you on as power over his life. It was late, he said that to me. I was like I haven’t met this woman, are you sure? And then I hear this” Wade came back quick. here I go crying “why didn’t you tell me? I was there, right there and you didn’t say it?” this what angers me “you just had the worst birth ever, I didn’t want to burden anyone” shaking my head as tears fell “burden me, why do that to me. You know how much shit I have been through, ask him” I pointed at Wade “I had to meet your family, seeing these guys in suits saying is this what will killed him off, I had to beg Damon to help me. He got me there with you, then I had an argument with Kellen. Malik got blamed for you, he didn’t even do shit. Kellen was counting on you dying, you’re dad calling me a mistress, disrespecting me in front of my family. Then he had a heart attack outside the waiting room, Shawn punched Kellen because he called me the secret bitch. Now I am on the blogs looking like a bitch, they out there attacking me. I am the bitch that sought you out, I got pregnant on purpose. My face is everywhere and Naomi looking innocent as fuck. Now I am on Access Hollywood, everyone disrespecting me. Getting my family involved, I don’t feel safe anymore. I look like the bitch that stole you away from Naomi” Maurice’ mouth fell open, he stared at me in terror.

He didn’t expect what I have just said to him “someone has also taken a picture of you in this bed asleep, it’s on the blogs. What Robyn has said is true” Maurice looks extra stressed and I feel bad now “who exposed Robyn, Wade? What is my publicist doing, what is she doing?” Maurice said to Wade “we got word of TMZ and we did allow it to go through but it was nothing about Robyn, on the paperwork it was about you. To say you’re ok, everything that was put on there was not by me on the team” Maurice let my hand go “Wade, give me your phone. I need you to remove Robyn’ face off the internet, sue any blog, TV that uses it. They have to blur her face out. I want you, come here” Wade got his phone out from his side pocket “here” Wade held his phone out to him, Maurice gripped his tie on his suit “Maurice!” I spat “you fucking find out who has been talking about me Wade! You earn your fucking stay, you should have done this without me instead of sitting fucking back, you get that bitch publicist and you tell her do her fucking job! You fucking use that phone and find out” Maurice pushed him back “creasing up my shirt, thank you” Wade fixed his tie “I can do that, you need to clear her name. Once you finished peeing in the bag that is, I have your best interest so please. I do have a feeling on who it is anyways, I think I lost count on who. Your whole family but I will proceed with that. Shawn is in New York, you gave him that power. He is dealing with Dubai, get better Maurice, and quick” Wade walked out.

Maurice is ever so quiet, it’s weird because he is thinking and plotting “is things still being said?” Maurice finally said something “yes” I said in a whisper “my dad is in hospital, he is too ill. Where is Malik, Robyn. I need you to get my phone, I’ve not seen him all day. I am looking after him. I am just working out who is doing this” I am not about to give his phone “no, you’re going to rest. I am going to get Jay here, you have him here with you. Someone is also taking pictures of you like this. Just relax please, your mind is working overtime and I understand but your health. For me, just relax ok? Let your lawyer do what he needs” Maurice punched the bed at the side of him “fuck!” I wanted him to know but I don’t like seeing him all angry “Maurice, listen to me. Once you are better we will come back bigger and better, I will never let you fall like this” he is devastated “I am so sorry Robyn, I didn’t want this for you. I didn’t want you to be exposed in this way” Maurice is stressing and I feel so bad.

#chrianna #chrianna ff #fanfic #fanfiction

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carmenlire · 6 years ago

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Higher than the Big Trees Ch. 39

read chapter one

read on ao3

“So, you’ll be here tomorrow morning?” Alec’s voice is distracted as he accepts the glass of water from the stewardess with a nod.

“I land at 10:15 and by the time I find the driver and make it to Rosewood, it should be around 11:30. Does that work?”

Taking a quick sip, Alec relaxes back in his chair. “Sounds great, Underhill. I have the BBC Live Lounge in the morning but I should be back to the hotel a little after noon once I finish the interviews that Lydia’s scheduled. Think you can be ready by two?”

Underhill’s voice is dry as he responds, “I’m ready now, Alec. He won’t know what hit him by the time we’re done.”

Alec’s tone is grim as he all he offers is, “Good.”

Hanging up, Alec thinks through his itinerary as he’s thirty thousand feet in the air. While he wasn’t quite obnoxious enough to own his own jet, he had the habit of chartering for transatlantic flights-- it was one of very few true splurges he indulged in and while Alec still regularly flew commercial in The States, everything was just so much more convenient when he flew private.

The stewardess is attentive but she’s worked for him before and knows that Alec doesn’t expect hovering care-- she’s in the cockpit talking with the pilots and he’s left to his own devices.

The next six hours are full of opportunities, he thinks wryly. He could write a little, surf the web for a bit, or sleep. All sound like excellent wastes of his time but instead, Alec reaches for his phone.

He has a few demos to play through and as Alec put his earphones in, he selects the first one. He always listens through recordings at least a dozen times before releasing it to the label. Feel Something, the title track of the album, is just what he wants and the meeting yesterday at Institute Records had gone amazingly well, considering the last time he’d seen Jia he’d been experiencing the worst writer’s block of his career.

They’d agreed to a midnight release next week and as Alec does the math, he figures that he’ll be back in New York by then. They’ll be recording the music video for the single soon and while it’s not common to release two singles so close together, Alec finds that he’s excited for this next album and the new phase it will usher in.

Truthfully, he’s excited for Magnus’s reaction.

The past few days-- months-- run through Alec’s head and he finds himself smiling, stupidly and sappily. It’s been a good summer and while he still has a private reservation or two, he’s looking forward to the rest of the year and whatever it may bring. His birthday is next month and Alec remembers talking with Magnus about traveling-- he wonders if he could persuade Magnus to join him on a trip soon or if he’s moving too fast, after all.

Alec knows from personal experience that Italy’s beautiful in the fall. He bets it would be even better with Magnus at his side.

He puts his wandering thoughts on the back burner and focuses on the music. This was the latest incarnation of Feel Something and as Alec listens to the whole thing through-- several times-- he knows that he’s got it. He’d recorded this a few hours ago, spending the last of his day in New York at the studio, fixing the few critiques he and Meliorn had agreed would take the single to the next level.

It’s a little after ten now and Alec will land in London at eight in the morning and go directly to the BBC’s headquarters. He’ll perform a few songs-- including a cover and an original-- and then have an interview later on in the morning.

His afternoon is free, though, at his insistence. While London was almost a second home at this point-- what with all the business he’s done here over the years-- there was a more practical reason that Alec had been willing to spend a few days here that had nothing to do with his career.

Hence, Underhill.

But that’s all for tomorrow and Alec needs to catch what sleep he can if he has any hope of being useful tomorrow. He catches up on his email for a few more minutes, making sure that everything is up to date, and then he’s heading to the bedroom in the back of the plane and crashing.

To his surprise, he falls asleep almost immediately. It’s been quite the day on both his personal and professional fronts and Alec is exhausted but it’s the good kind of tired-- it reminds him of being on tour and he misses that energy more than he’d even anticipated.

He can’t remember the last time he was in New York for three months straight and while it’s been great, it’s also been an adjustment. Alec was used to moving, being constantly on the go.

His last thought before sleep claims him is that he hopes Magnus can deal with a grueling tour schedule but even in his sleepy haze, Alec figures that they’ll be just fine.

Alec sleeps most of the flight, catching four or so hours before the stewardess is waking him up and informing him that they’ll be descending shortly. Alec makes quick work of changing out of the sweats he’d boarded the plane in and into his outfit for the day. It’s nothing dramatic but it does make a statement.

It’s been awhile since Alec’s had to don this particular type of armor but it’s effortless and gratifying in being so.

Olive green chinos rolled up to expose his ankles paired with a white short sleeved shirt with navy pop dots. It’s elegant yet casual enough for a radio appearance and when paired with a Ferragamo belt and shoes, his look is coolly composed.

Alec’s played this game since before he was old enough to understand its rules. It wouldn’t do to appear too casual or half-assed. That would mean he’s suffering a terrible break-up and generally in despair. Looking too put together though-- say a suit or structured blazer-- that means he’s trying too hard to look unaffected, that he’s hiding his inner turmoil or whatever the shit, and takes him right back to square one.

This look is nothing out of the ordinary for Alec, even if he’s dressed it up a little more than he usually would. That’s the image Alec needs to portray as soon as the vultures get sight of him-- wholly unaffected, as confident as ever, not a care in the world. Because Alec can’t forget that even if he doesn’t give a shit about what they have to say-- he’s also responsible for the media’s opinion of Magnus, no matter how obliquely.

How Alec plays this week will be the difference between the media circling above them, smelling blood in the water, or deciding that there’s nothing overly interesting in Alec’s relationship with a man who so happens so have a little skeleton in his closet.

Landing goes smoothly even as his thoughts are preoccupied and Alec grabs his bag from the seat next to him as the attendants open the door.

He’d landed at a small, private airport north of the city-- Heathrow would have been a nightmare to get through-- and a town car is waiting for him as he steps onto the tarmac. Alec sees the half dozen reporters standing a football field away, just that side of the private property line and smiles a little, just to himself.

He knows that smile will be splashed on the internet in a few minutes and he hopes the photographers choke on their payday.

The truth is, Alec doesn’t care. It’s just another day to him. He’s weathered far worse storms than a boyfriend whose dad was a raging asshole-- and he’s done it, more often than not, alone. With his siblings in New York more often than not and Alec across the globe, he’s dealt with paps who would rather tear him apart alive than give up their inside scoop. Having Magnus to fall back on, knowing that he’s doing this for them, is all the strength Alec needs to ignore the media when otherwise he might’ve been filled with impotent rage and bitter resentment.

Alec refuses to give reporters the satisfaction of ruining what he’s found and for the first time, maybe ever, Alec feels confident. He may know how to play the game, but he still catches himself caught up sometimes over just how little privacy he has, how little regard the rest of the world has for him.

The driver takes his bag and Alec ducks into the back seat. It’s a smooth ride into the City and Alec spends that time on his phone. It’s unforgivably early in New York but Alec sends Magnus a text wishing him a good morning and letting him know that he's landed safely before switching over to his email and seeing the updated itinerary Lydia had sent over in the dead of night.

Shaking his head at the hours she keeps, Alec sees that everything looks in order for the next week and refreshes his memory for what to expect today. He spends the rest of the commute online, getting caught up on the latest news about him and Magnus and their scandalous relationship.

When the car pulls up to the building, Alec can see the crowd of photographers through the blacked out windows of the town car. Luckily, it’s a sunny morning and Alec doesn’t feel like too much of a douche as he slides his aviators on and smooths down his shirt. He doesn’t wait for the driver to open his door and instead gets out himself.

Out of the frying pan, he thinks and his expression is blank as he makes his way to the front door where an assistant is holding it open and looking only mildly out of her depth. However, what should have been a few second stroll turns into a minefield as the reporters inch into his breathing space.

The flash of cameras is blinding even through his sunglasses and Alec narrows his eyes at the door, each step slow for how the crowd is inundating around him.

“Hey, Alec!” A microphone is shoved in his face but Alec barely spares the reporter a glance. That doesn’t stop the man, though, from asking, “Is it true that you’re in a relationship with Magnus Bane, heir to Asmodeus Bane’s ill-gotten fortune?”

“No comment.”

It’s the standard response in the industry but that doesn’t stop the paps from coming even closer, as though Alec had just given them a million dollar soundbite.

Alec knows no comment is only worth a few thousand, in this case.

“Alec, how does it feel to be tied down? How can it be true that the most sought after bachelor in the music industry is spoken for?”

Another reporter laughs and it grates in his ear. “Tell us that we haven’t seen the last of Party Boy Lightwood. We at The Sun were heartbroken to find that someone had grabbed you up without anyone noticing. Tell us you’re smart enough to dodge an obvious gold digger.”

“Yo, Lightwood-- Brett from the Daily Mail. We heard that you’re whisking Bane away on a honeymoon next week to celebrate your private wedding ceremony. Can you confirm?”

Alec rolls his eyes internally but just repeats, “No comment,” in a cool tone.

But like sharks scenting blood-- even if everyone present is well aware that the accusation was nothing more than a play to get a reaction-- the reporters become just a little more frenetic. Gritting his teeth, Alec shoves his way through the paps and thinks that maybe he should have brought his bodyguard along. It’s been awhile since Alec’s been embroiled in the news so intensely and having security definitely helps keep things running smoothly.

Still, Alec’s made of sterner stuff and while photographers yell in his ear, trying to get his attention, and phones are shoved in his face for a soundbite worthy of a headline, Alec makes it to the front doors of BBC radio relatively unscathed.

The assistant holds the door open wide and as soon as Alec crosses the threshold, she’s turning on her heel to follow him while two security guards from the building keep the paps out and muscle the doors closed.

Alec hears the shutter of dozens of cameras even through the closed doors. The windows do nothing to temper the flash as everyone tries to get a photo of him through the glass.

Alec pauses at reception and the assistant takes over.

“Good morning, Mr. Lightwood. My name is Lacey and I’ll be your assistant today while you’re here at BBC Radio.”

Raising a brow at the calm, confident tone, Alec just offers a smile and replies, “It’s nice to meet you, Lacey. You can call me Alec.”

The two of them shake hands and Alec’s a little surprised to see that Lacey has a professional, steady grip. “How long have you been here,” he asks and tries to readjust his first impression of her.

From her reaction to the jungle outside, he’d thought that she’d be a nervous intern but while she had looked shaken as Alec fought his way through the wolves, here in the confines of the station, she seems ready for anything.

Smiling brightly, Lacey replies, “Three months but I have to admit that I’ve never dealt with a crowd the size of yours.”

“You get used to it,” is all Alec says and Lacey looks at him like he’s lost his mind before shaking her head a little and refocusing the conversation.

“You’re here for the next few hours and I’m your point woman. I’m the one that can get you coffee or whatever else you require and I’ll be the one to lead you through your schedule with us. We’re starting with the Live Lounge performance and you’ll have a few minutes for makeup and hair before we get you to the stage set-up.”

Alec goes along with whatever she says and doesn’t tell her that he’s performed or interviewed here so many times over the past ten years that he probably knows the building just as well as she does. He lets the hair and makeup team fiddle with him a little, making sure that he won’t look washed out under the performing lights, and then he goes to the recording room.

It’s not really a stage, just a dimly room with just enough space for a performer and their instruments. Cameras and TVs line one wall and as Alec shakes hands with the team and goes through a round of introductions, he settles in his spot in front of the piano. He puts his headphones on and rests his hands on the keys, taking a grounding breath.

He was only using the piano for the first song-- he’d use the stage band for his own music-- but part of the fun of the Live Lounge was covering artists with stripped versions of their own songs.

Alec warms up for a few minutes and then the cameras are rolling. He’s practiced this particular song for a few months and had brushed up on it yesterday after heading home from the studio.

As he’s given the cue to start from the producer, Alec eases into Coming Down by Halsey. Badlands had been one of his favorite albums the year it had been released and he’s held this song in reserve for a few years just for such an occasion.

The piano is a soft undertone and Alec leans into the notes. He hasn’t performed since May-- since Good Morning America all those weeks ago-- and it feels good to be back. He hasn’t taken so much time off since he was in high school and even if it’s a stripped version in front of half a dozen cameras and no fans, it’s still fun.

There’s no pressure here. It’s Alec and his passion in its purest form. Singing a song he loves in the silence of a dim room. Letting his eyes close, Alec ignores the people gathered, the staff that ensure everything runs smoothly and focuses on the piano and the notes.

The four minutes go by faster than Alec anticipated and there’s a short commercial break before Alec hears the intro music in his headphones. He hears the introduction for his next song-- one of the ones he’d recorded a couple of weeks ago that has almost a guaranteed spot on his next album-- and he counts off the beat with the drummer accompanying him.

This song is a little more lively and he’s breathing hard by the end of it.

There are a few more songs he performs, mostly old favorites with his latest singles mixed in, and then he’s moving back from the piano. Pulling the mic pack from his waistband, Alec hands that and his headphones to a member of the sound team and then Lacey is ushering him to the radio department.

Alec waits outside of the recording room, watching as Nick Grimshaw goes through a spiel of some sort before being ushered in. He’s known the radio host for several years and the two have a good relationship-- they’ve even gotten drinks while Alec’s been in the city. Grimmy never pushes when he senses a sensitive topic and he’s one of a handful of media personnel that Alec actually likes. He's talked to the man off record several times before and Grimshaw has yet to expose any of his confidences. All around, he's a pretty good guy in Alec's opinion.

He sits in his assigned chair across from Grimmy and gets hooked up with headphones. He asks Lacey for a cup of coffee and she returns almost startlingly fast. He’s a little surprised that it’s a great cup and it’s only then that he realizes that he hasn’t had any coffee this morning and it’s going on mid morning.

Just a few minutes later, Grimmy’s introducing him and Alec grins and relaxes into his seat, sipping on his coffee.

“Our next guest is a music industry legend-- and he knows it. He wrapped up his last tour in May and has spent the summer laying low in his hometown. Until this week, at least.” The host’s tone is scandalous as he continues, “Rumor has it that the most elusive playboy in New York has finally let himself be caught-- and by a professor, of all things. I’m sure everyone is very excited to hear that we’re spending the morning with Alec Lightwood. Alec, man, it’s been a little while, hasn’t it?”

Laughing, Alec leans into his mic. “It has,” he confirms. “I almost want to say it’s been over a year since I was last at BBC Radio 1 headquarters.”

“Too long,” Grimmy says sadly.

“Way too long. But I’m in London for a few days and thought it only right that I stop by.”

“Well, Alec, we appreciate that.” Nick takes a quick drink of his own coffee before going on. “How have things been with you lately? Catch us up on what the Alec Lightwood’s been up to the past few months.”

Nick raises a brow which Alec returns as he answers. His first interview being with Nick is definitely not a coincidence by Lydia and he resolves to send his manager a nice gift-- something with gold-- once he gets back to The States. Nick knew how to play the game and he was feeling Alec out. Alec would appease him-- after just a little bit more ducking and weaving.

“I wrapped up a world tour earlier this summer.”

“Yes,” Grimmy says dryly. “I heard. I also saw your GMA performance and saw a few fans post about a supposed private concert.”

Shrugging, Alec replies, “I like to do a few smaller events for fans during the year, Nick. You know that. My Good Morning America performance was fun, though. It was nice to perform in Central Park.”

“I would imagine. I noticed something, though, when I was watching it this week.”

Interest piqued, Alec just prompts, “Oh?”

“You were performing fan favorite Carousel when you did something a little unusual for you-- you dedicated a song.”

All of a sudden, Alec realizes what Nick’s building up to and he winces a little. He barely remembers the performance and had totally forgotten that he’d mentioned Magnus at all. Though now that he thinks about it, he definitely should since the move had been brazen even for him.

Still, there’s a game to be played. “A dedication,” Alec asks, frowning as he makes a show of thinking. “That doesn’t seem like me. I never dedicate songs. It’s almost always unbearably sappy and I wouldn’t put my fans through that.”

“Yeah, you’ve only dedicated one or two songs before but that’s what made this stand out. You dedicated that song to someone you met recently.” Grimmy sends Alec an arch look. “Apparently, you thought they could be a great friend.”

He emphasizes the end of the sentence and Alec rolls his eyes. “Friends are important to a healthy life, you know,” he says demurely.

“Well, Alec, you know everyone here in the studio-- and the world, I’m sure-- is dying to know. Who’s the friend you made a few months ago and do you still talk to him?”

Alec laughs a little, leaning close to the mic. “Well since you asked so nice Grimmy, I do still talk to him. His name is Magnus.”

Nick’s eyes light up, like he wasn’t sure Alec was going to give him the story after all, and Alec smiles and takes a drink of coffee.

“Magnus, you say?” He pauses for a beat before returning, “Is there anything to the story that you want to share, Alec?”

“Let’s see,” Alec starts. “What do you want to know?”

Nick glares at him, joking, and Alec smothers a laugh that’s probably caught on tape.

“Lightwood, what do you think I-- and everyone listening raptly right now-- want to know? Anything, everything.” Grimmy sweeps a regal hand in front of him. “The floor is yours, man.”

Humming thoughtfully, Alec finally says, “Well, it looks like you know Magnus and I were friends.”

Jumping on the reply, Nick asks, “Were?”

“You’re right, Grimmy. One’s boyfriend should also be a friend. That’s only healthy.”

“So, it’s true then? The illustrious Alec Lightwood is taken?”

Alec pauses dramatically before sighing in equal fashion. “I am,” he confirms. “I’m in a relationship with Magnus Bane.”

“You’ve heard it from the man himself, folks!” Grimmy tsks, shaking his head morosely. “I know a lot of men will be crying into their pillows tonight at the news that you’re off the market, Alec. So you know I have to ask-- what’s the story there?”

“It’s a pretty boring story,” Alec says, almost apologetically. “We met in a diner one night.”

“You do like a good burger,” Grimm says sagely.

Alec laughs. “You know me too well. But yeah, I was at this diner in New York and it was pretty late. I had just ordered my food when I looked up and saw him.”

“Oh? Was it love at first sight,” Nick prods.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Alec says, a little uncertainly. “There was just something about him, though. We talked for a few minutes that night and things were kinda left there. I didn't think I’d ever see him again.”

“But?”

“It turns out we go to the same coffee shop. I ran into him there a few days later and we talked a little more and ended up exchanging numbers. I’m telling you, it’s all pretty conventional. We talked and met up a few times and things just grew and changed until we realized that there was more than just friendship there. We talked and-- yeah, man,” Alec ends, grinning. “He’s my boyfriend.”

“I’m happy for you, Alec, but you know I have to ask-- are you concerned about his history?”

No matter that Nick’s a friend, Alec’s tone cools at the suggestion, even if he knows that Nick’s just doing his job. “No, I’m not concerned about anything having to do with Magnus.”

Grimmy winces. “You have to know how that looks, though, right? This guy comes out of nowhere and you start dating only for it to be revealed his dad is a is one of the most well-known conmen in the entire world? And Magnus apparently has a juvie record? That doesn’t look good for anyone involved.”

Alec laughs but it’s caustic. “Are you telling me that you’ve never done something you regretted, Grimmy? Fu-- goodness knows that I’ve gotten into a scrape or two that involved a lawyer. And we can’t help who our fathers are.”

Alec doesn’t say anything else on the topic and Grimmy is kind enough to stay away from the topic of Robert. Instead, the host says, “I just want to make that sure you know what you’re getting yourself into. You’re Alec Lightwood, for God’s sake. You can’t just date anyone, even if we’d all like to think we have a certain level of autonomy that extends to who we want to be with.”

“I’m choosing Magnus,” Alec says firmly. “We’ve talked about things and we’re together. I don’t care what anyone else has to say about my relationship, especially when they don’t know us.”

Raising a brow, Grimmy replies, “That sounds pretty strong, Alec. Can I take that to mean that you and Magnus are in this for the long haul, naysayers be damned?”

Smiling, Alec just says, “That is what it sounds like, doesn’t it?”

Thankfully, Nick takes the cue and with a huff of amusement and a silent nod in support of Alec, the show goes to commercial.

Taking his headphones off, Alec follows suit and the two of them enjoy a few minutes conversation off the air.

“Hey man, I hope you’re good. You know that I had to ask.”

Shaking his head, Alec waves him off. “We both know how the game’s played, Grimmy. This was nothing out of the ordinary for the two of us.”

“Well, that’s not quite true, is it? I never thought that I’d see the day you settled down with someone. This Magnus guy must be special, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Alec confirms. “Between you and me, I’m pretty gone over him.”

Nodding seriously, Grimmy just says, “I’m happy for you, Alec. You deserve this and I hope to hell that it works out for you two.”

They fistbump while Alec says thanks and they're back on air just a few seconds later.

The conversation moves onto his career and Alec talks about his plans for the next album for a little bit, bantering with Nick, before there’s another commercial break.

Carefully, he stands up and stretches, draining the rest of his coffee and requesting another. Lacey jumps to attention and Alec spends the next little while playing a few radio games and talking about other, less personal subjects.

When the show finally ends, it’s after noon and Alec feels his red eye catching up with him. Shaking his head to clear it, he thanks everyone and follows Lacey as she leads him to the front of the building where his car is waiting.

There aren’t as many reporters this time and Alec makes it to the car with a fraction of the attention his arrival to the station had garnered.

The ride to the hotel is uneventful and Alec scrolls through Twitter and responds to a text from Jace before going over to the New York Times and spending the rest of the drive reading a few depressing as hell articles.

Pulling up to the hotel's front entrance, the doorman moves smoothly to attention and Alec nods to him as he steps into The Rosewood. It was his favorite hotel to stay in when he was in London and most celebrities liked the privacy the hotel afforded.

Walking over to the reception desk, Alec’s greeted warmly and checks in without issue. The driver had taken his bag to the hotel earlier and as Alec checks his watch, he sees that Underhill should have arrived a little while ago. Getting his keys, Alec heads to the elevator and up to his room.

He has a suite for the duration of his stay and as he inserts his card, he hears the television on low volume. Underhill is sitting on the couch, sleeves rolled up and jacket thrown over the dining table chair. He’s watching a football game and looking through his phone.

“What’s up,” Alec asks, kicking the door closed and throwing his key onto the entryway table.

Looking up, Underhill shrugs. “I’m just wasting time until you get here. Cutting it a little close, aren’t you?”

“You know me,” Alec says dryly. “I love to live dangerously.”

Underhill snorts but doesn’t say anything. He also doesn’t move his feet and Alec swipes at them half assed as he moves around them to take the other half of the couch.

“He should be here in half an hour.”

“We’re ready,” Underhill says confidently. “I’ve got my paperwork and legalese all ready.”

“Legalese,” Alec asks, giving his lawyer an arch look.

Underhill just shrugs and they watch the rest of the quarter before turning the TV off. Standing, Alec moves to the liquor cart and pours a glass of whiskey for Underhill, handing it over before pouring a second for himself.

Underhill flips through a folder, skimming the contents for a few minutes before sighing and coming to his feet. He rolls his sleeves down and shrugs into his suit jacket. They set the suite to rights and Alec takes out his phone. Magnus must be up for he’s answered Alec’s good morning text sent so many hours ago and Alec can’t help his smile as he types up a reply.

“Focus, boss. The bastard should be here any minute.”

Rolling his eyes, Alec shoves his phone into his pants pocket and it’s at just that minute that the room’s phone rings. Alec picks it up on the third ring.

“Lightwood,” he says brusquely.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Lightwood. There’s a. . . Victor Aldertree here and he insists that he has an invitation to your unit. What should I tell him, sir?”

Ale hears the disapproval in the concierge’s tone but bites back his laugh. It was almost unheard of for any media to ever be allowed on the grounds, though for purposes like the one Alec had set up were the only exception.

“I have an appointment scheduled with him for an interview,” Alec confirms. “Send him up-- with an escort. Between you and me, he’ll only be here twenty minutes or so and then he’ll need escorted off the property.”

“Very good, sir.”

Hanging up, Alec leans back in his chair and sends Underhill an amused look. “Ready?”

“More than,” Underhill says grimly. “I can’t believe that he really thinks you’re going to give him an exclusive interview after the shit he’s pulled.”

“He’s a reporter, Underhill. He probably can’t see past the million dollar story that’s landed in his lap.”

A knock sounds on the hotel door and Underhill stands to answer. Alec, for his part, crosses one leg over another and settles in for his meeting, taking a leisurely sip of his whiskey.

Underhill swings the door open and Aldertree appears, looking pompously pressed in a subtly patterned blazer.

He walks right into the suite without hesitation and Alec nods to the bellman behind him as Underhill slips him a tip.

Switching his gaze to the bloodthirsty little reporter in front of him, Alec inclines his head. “Mr. Aldertree.”

“Alec.” The two of them shake hands and Alec barely buries his ire at being greeted so casually. Aldertree, the smug bastard, takes a seat at the table opposite Alec and Underhill seats himself between them.

Alec tilts his head to his friend. “This is Underhill. My lawyer.”

At that, Aldertree looks a little startled, though he waves it off just a moment later.

What a fool, Alec thinks. Aldertree thought Underhill was just here to prevent Alec from incriminating himself in anything too embarrassing.

Alec watches as Aldertree takes out his phone and opens his recording app, starting the audio. Alec lets him get situated, taking out his little pen and notebook, relaxing in his chair as if he has all the time in the world.

Finally, Aldertree says, “Alright, gentlemen, should we get started?”

Alec pauses for a few beats and studies Aldertree. The journalist was a thorn in his side and he’s looking forward to the next several minutes.

“Ready whenever you are, Mr. Aldertree.”

Aldertree dives right in and goes straight for the throat. “When did you start dating Magnus Bane and did you know from the start that he was ill gotten goods?”

Alec’s temper spikes but he doesn’t need the look Underhill throws him to keep his control. His expression doesn’t change from its bland pleasantness as he reaches over and grabs the reporter’s phone from the table before Aldertree even knows what’s happening.

Ignoring Aldertree’s squawks of distress, Alec presses the red button to stop recording and then deletes the file.

He looks up to meet Aldertree’s incredulous face. “You’re not here for an exclusive, Aldertree. Quite the contrary.”

Underhill flips open the folder in front of him, perusing its contents that Alec knows he’s already memorized, letting Alec have a few minutes.

Leaning over the table oh so slightly, Alec’s voice is soft as he asks, “You got quite the story didn’t you? You found out that I was dating someone. I don’t know who your inside source is but it doesn’t matter-- you took whatever they had to say and you ran with it. You ran all the way to the fucking bank with a story on me.”

Settling back in his chair, Alec throws back a swallow of whiskey, setting the glass back down on the table with a hard thud in the otherwise still room.

“Now normally,” Alec continues conversationally, “I’d let you scamper off with your tidy little check and you’d just be another annoying reporter on my shit list. But this isn’t normal, Aldertree. You brought someone else into this.”

Aldertree looks admirably unfazed by Alec’s little rambling speech, though Alec sees the way his eyes widen imperceptibly at the mention of his boyfriend.

“That’s right. You can sling all the shit you want at my name. It’ll take more than some goddamn two bit reporter to bring me down. You had the nerve to go after my boyfriend though, Aldertree, and that I won’t tolerate. You don’t mess with what’s mine and you can imagine how Magnus felt when he read his past in a fucking tabloid.”

“I’m a journalist,” Aldertree says firmly. “It’s my duty to report the news, especially when people are keeping secrets.”

Tsking, Alec reaches for his glass and tips it toward his guest. “Ah, but you don’t get it, do you, Aldertree? Some things are off limits-- especially when you have the means and the spite to make sure they stay that way.”

Aldertree raises his head and casts a defiant look at Alec, scornful. “What are you going to do, then? The story’s already out. Everyone knows that your boyfriend is just using you for your money and that when he’s done with you, he’ll walk away without a backwards glance.”

Now it’s the reporter’s turn to look pityingly at Alec. “You’re too fucking stupid to realize that you’re just another arrogant celebrity falling into a trap laid by someone smarter than you. Don’t blame me for sounding the alarm-- you should be thanking me.”

Alec smiles thinly. “I should be thanking you,” Alec repeats thoughtfully. “What should I thank you for first? Almost ruining my relationship? Making my boyfriend feel like shit? Revealing our relationship-- that we were obviously keeping out of the press-- to the world? You’re right,” Alec says, marveling. “There really is so much to thank you for, you snide little bastard.”

Nodding towards Underhill, Alec continues, “You fucked up, though. Didn’t you?”

“How,” Aldertree asks, crossing his arms in front of him. Alec sees the flash of panic in his eyes and his mouth tilts up, just a little.

“You’re a reporter but you’re still bound by the law. You’re not infallible. I read your article, you see. I read it a few times. That’s when I realized that you weren’t just a bottom feeding son of a bitch-- you went above and beyond to get your scoop and I promise, that’ll be your downfall.”

Alec leans close, makes sure that he has Aldertree’s undivided attention as he slowly says, “I’ve consulted with my lawyer and it turns out that it’s a felony to break into sealed records. I don’t know who you bribed, but you broke the law when you looked at Magnus’s juvie record. That’s grounds for immediate prosecution and I’d go a step further and say it’d mean your job at Idris News.”

“You can’t do that,” Aldertree accuses. “That’s illegal.”

At that, Underhill looks up from the folder. “I’m sorry, what’s illegal? Telling someone that they’ve broken the law? We’ve done nothing but inform you of something you already knew.”

“What do you want,” Aldertree gets out through gritted teeth.

“What do we want? That’s a bit like trying to close the barn door after the horse has escaped, isn’t it? But for sake of argument, I’ll tell you anyway.”

Smiling, Alec relaxes in his seat and considers the man in front of him. “I want to ruin you. I want to make you pay for hurting someone that I care very much about. No one is content with just me anymore,” Alec says drolly. “They’re going after those closest to me and that is something I will never tolerate.”

Alec’s expression is pleasant as he softly asks, “Do you want to know something, Aldertree? I get what I want. I suppose that your editor is reading an anonymous letter as we speak that tells just how you managed to piece together such an interesting story. Oh, and I lied about not knowing who you bribed-- he’s sitting in an interrogation room right now explaining why he hacked police records in The States and I’d imagine he’s singing like a bird right about now about just who asked him to do it.”

Alec watches as the realizations batter Aldertree and feels blazing satisfaction at the way he seems to deflate.

“You chose the wrong story, Aldertree. And now you’ll pay the price. By the time I'm finished with you, you won't be able to get a media job in Siberia.”

“You bastard,” Aldertree whispers furiously.

Alec shrugs negligently. “Don’t blame me for your own fuck-ups. Now get out. I don’t ever want to hear your name again.”

“This isn’t the last you’ll hear from me,” the reporter blusters.

Underhill stands, buttoning his jacket. “Is that a threat, Mr. Aldertree,” he asks coolly and Alec watches as Aldertree gnashes his teeth.

“Of course not,” the man gets out and sends them both a withering glance before he’s striding to the door and wrenching it open. The same bellman appears and Alec watches, amused, as Aldertree is ushered away by the hotel staff.

The door swings shut and Underhill blows out a breath. “What a bitch.”

Barking out a laugh, Alec stands and walks the few feet to the couch, collapsing on it with a groan. “It certainly wasn’t a hardship. Did you see his face when he realized I’d put the pieces together?”

“Priceless,” Underhill agrees and slouches in his chair, pouring a second glass of whiskey and throwing half of it back in one bracing swallow.

The two of them relax in the quiet of the room before Alec sighs heavily. “I have interviews this afternoon and a dinner with a few of the London executives from the label.”

“Woe is you,” Underhill mutters and just raises a brow at the narrow-eyed glance Alec throws him.

Looking at his watch, Underhill hums. “My flight’s scheduled for later this evening. I think I’ll do a little sightseeing before I have the driver take me to the airport.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay a few days? It seems a little excessive that you’d come all the way here just for a single meeting, without even taking advantage of a little vacation.”

“What can I say,” Underhill shrugs. “Adrian couldn’t get out of work on such short notice and I miss him.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Alec waves his friend’s answer away and they both laugh as Alec stands and they shake hands, leaning in for a quick hug. “Go ahead and get out of here. I know you like to visit the National Gallery when you’re in town and go to that pub. I’ll see you back in New York.”

“Sounds good, boss.”

Rolling his eyes, Alec heads to the bedroom while Underhill gathers his papers. His friend leaves just a few minutes later and Alec sighs in the quiet now that he’s alone.

He has an hour until he needs to go downstairs and meet his driver for the next round of interviews and Alec spends that time texting Magnus. It’s nothing serious and Alec laughs out loud as they argue about who Peyton should have ended up with on One Tree Hill. Alec spares a few minutes to change into another outfit-- something a little more formal that will work well for wherever the label takes him tonight, and then he’s off again.

He’s definitely feeling the effects of his overnight flight and being on the go since he landed but he reasons that he only has a few hours left before he can crash for a solid eight hours-- ten if he’s lucky.

His room phone rings-- downstairs notifying him that his driver’s arrived-- and Alec runs a hand through his hair as he grabs his room key and wallet, shoving them into his pocket.

Alec walks out of his room, ready to face the lions.

Eager, even.

Because, as the elevator moves swiftly down to the lobby, Alec sits comfortable in the knowledge that he’s at the top of his game. His career has recovered quite nicely from the crisis earlier in the summer and he has a man back in The States that he’s crazy about.

Everything has worked out quite nicely-- better than he could’ve ever expected-- and Alec’s been playing this game so long that sometimes he wonders if he didn't invent it.

This is the life he’s chosen for himself and he loves it-- thorns and all. As Alec runs through the news outlets and magazines that he’ll be talking to this afternoon, he smiles a little.

This life isn’t for everyone but it’s the only one Alec wants. The truth is, he’s always loved it, always enjoyed playing the game and thumbing his nose at anyone who said that he wouldn’t make it.

Magnus landed in his life unexpectedly but he fits in a way that surprises Alec. It’s unforgivably early, but Alec likes the space Magnus takes up in his life. Alec never thought something like this was meant for him but he knows he’d fight to keep it with everything he has.

Yeah, Alec thinks as he slides his sunglasses on and approaches the car with the driver holding the rear door open for him.

He wouldn’t change a thing.

#httbt #my writing #I feel like it's been 800 years since i updated lol sorry

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turnupswritessometimes · 6 years ago

Text

Lavender Eyes - Glimmerdora - Ch6

Title: Lavender Eyes

Chapter: 5

Word Count: 4119

Summary: Adora’s on the football tem. Glimmer’s in band. They think they can’t stand each other, until a series of accidents forces them to open up to each other.

Note: This is also available on Archive of Our Own and it’s probably best to follow it there, as I remember to update it more. I would post a link, but then tumblr wouldn’t include it in search results.

Things had changed. But in some ways, they hadn’t changed at all, because Catra may barely be speaking to Adora, but that didn’t stop her from sitting in the passenger side of Adora’s car on Monday morning.

Adora didn’t say anything. Mainly because Beatrix was still peering out of the window and it was really none of her business what was happening at school. That was something that Catra and Adora had always managed – to lie about what was happening between them and what was happening at school. Kid drama never got taken to the adults. That meant trouble. So she kept her mouth shut and started driving.

There was a different atmosphere in the car. A tense, unsure how to step around each other atmosphere.

“You going to pinky’s again?” Catra asked. They were already halfway to school.

“Yes,” Adora said. “Probably. And don't call her that.”

“What?” Catra’s foot was up on the dash. It had never bothered Adora before. She had never allowed herself to look at just how tight Catra’s jeans were getting. “That's not the worst I could say - could call her a dy-“

“Don't. Catra. Do you even know how offensive that is?”

“Why do you even care?” She could sense narrowed eyes on her face and kept her eyes on the road, resisting not to beep the horn at the guy in front of them. He wasn’t even driving that slow. “If I didn't know better I'd say you were gay.”

Adora paused. She wanted to take the leap – because if she couldn’t trust Catra, who could she trust? “What if I was?”

“You? Please. Pretty sure Beatrix wants you to marry a doctor, have two children - a boy and a girl, naturally and live happily ever after.” Catra crossed her legs over, looking out of the window again. Adora couldn’t see her face.

“Maybe I won't marry anyone.”

“Perfect Adora not doing what mummy says?”

“Are you telling me delinquent Catra is going to do what she does say? Are you going to get married?” This was easier, Adora thought. This was teasing and banter and it was all surface level. That’s how it should be. Surface level – not deep, meaningful conversations with Bow.

Catra frowned at her, her bottom lip sticking out in a pout. “Touché.” She paused then, her eyes glancing over Adora’s face with sudden sincerity. “You’d tell me, if you were, wouldn't you?”

“You're my sister,” Adora said. “We tell each other everything.”

It wasn’t an outright lie. It had never been a lie, but it was fast becoming one.

Still, Adora reasoned to herself as she pulled into the school parking lot, Catra was being unfair too. Catra was hiding drinking and smoking and who knew what else from Adora. So it was only fair.

They had parked up when Catra put a hand out. She didn’t even look at Adora as she said, “Hey, ill take your phone. Then beatrix can't track you.

Thanks.

This is for me. So, I don't get into trouble for not going everywhere with my keeper.

They had parked up when Catra put a hand-out. She didn’t even look at Adora as she said, “Hey, I'll take your phone. Then Beatrix can't track you."

Adora blinked. Then pulled out her phone and held it out. "Thanks."

Catra took it without looking at her. "This is for me. So I don't get into trouble for not going everywhere with my keeper."

With that, she slammed the car door.

Adora waited for a full minute, her eyes on the clock built into her car. Then she climbed out too, shrugging her backpack onto her back and walking up to the school. It was clear that things had changed. She was receiving odd looks and people muttered as she walked passed. Lonnie ignored her when she opened her locker.

Then slammed it closed. Lonnie was scowling at her palm on the door, but still didn’t look at Adora.

“You gunna talk about Friday night or not?”

“I…don’t know what there is to say?”

“The band? You thanked the band? No one thanks the band-“

“They work hard and-“

“And what? It’s their hobby! That’s what they do.” Connie finally looked up, her eyes fierce.

“And we should just ignore them?”

“Yes. That’s what we do.”

“Why? Why, Lonnie?”

“Because. Because they’re annoying and pretentious and think we’re all stupid,” Lonnie said. “Because they’re all on the student council too and they don’t do shit for us. Because they’re fucking weird, Adora.”

“How are they weird?” Adora asked. They did think the football team were all stupid jocks, she knew that. But things had changed. Glimmer didn’t think that – anymore.

“Fuck, Adora.” Lonnie shook her head.

“Go on, Lonnie. Tell me.” There was an edge to Adora’s voice. She was challenging Lonnie, she realised and it made her heart race. This wasn’t a fight she wanted to have, but it wasn’t one she could avoid either. One that she could have a long time ago. Now it was harder. After sitting in a car with Glimmer and seeing those lavender eyes sparkle at her, she couldn’t ignore it.

“Because, Adora.” Lonnie leant against the locker, rolling her eyes. “They’re all lessies.”

“Oh, right,” Adora said. “Of course.”

She slammed her locker door closed and walked away. Her face was burning – with anger, she hoped. She really hoped that it looked like she was furious with Lonnie for the insinuation. Not that she felt sick. That her heart was racing because for a moment, for just a night, she had believed that it would be okay. Coming out would be okay. Maybe not.

Maybe this really was the point of no return. Now, the rest of the team was avoiding her too, shooting her confused looks. Adora had never been without friends. She had always had a clique. Since kindergarten and it scared her. If she wasn’t popular then who was she?

It played on her mind for the rest of the day. Lessons weren't so bad - she could pretend to be engrossed in Spanish or physics. It was lunch that was the real test.

For the first time in her life, Adora sat at an empty table. And maybe part of it was choice - part of it was not wanting to be sat with people who threw the terms 'lessie' and 'dyke' around. But part of it wasn't and she didn't like that part.

It was Bow who came to her rescue, carrying a tray with one hand like a waiter and a grin on his face. He sat down - like it was completely natural - like they did this everyday.

"I've thought of a solution to your problem," Bow said in the place of 'hello.' "I'm calling it Schrodinger’s lesbian."

"Schrodinger’s lesbian?" Adora echoed. She hadn't touched her own food. Her stomach was in knots.

"Just don't come out to your mum. Keep it a secret."

"Maybe I'm not a lesbian. Maybe everyone gets feelings."

"Riiight." Bow rolled his eyes. "Adora, have you ever wanted to kiss a guy?"

"No." She spoke quickly at Bow's judgemental eyebrow raise. "But that's only because I've been ear deep in my studies my whole life."

"Right, right." Bow shrugged it off, his tone casual. But then he glanced up with that smile. "And who made you want to pull yourself out of that quicksand?"

"That's different."

"Of course, it is."

"Look - I don't - it doesn't even matter, because it's not like Glimmer even-" she paused at the look on Bow's face. He was smiling at her.

"What if I told you that Glimmer told me not to say anything on that subject."

Adora frowned.

"What did Glimmer tell you not to say anything about?" Glimmer was suddenly at the table. Sitting down and giving Bow a warning glance.

"Nothing, nothing." Bow was still smiling.

"So, we're eating lunch together," Adora said.

"Is that allowed?" Glimmer asked.

"I guess so. It's not like anyone else in lining up."

"That's what happens when you stand up for the band," Glimmer said.

"Welcome to the loser's club." Bow stretched his hands out in front of him, still grinning.

"You're not losers."

"I was quoting It."

"What?"

"It."

"What's It?"

"The movie. It."

"Oh my God." Glimmer put her head in her hands. "It's like watching dumb and dumber."

“Where you see idiocy, Glimmer, I see an opportunity.” Bow leant forward. “Movie. Night. This. Evening.”

Adora looked at Glimmer. Glimmer looked back at her, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sure Adora has better things to do with her time,” Glimmer said.

“I don’t think Adora does,” Adora said. “I think Adora would like to try a movie night.”

“On a school night?”

“Yeah.” Though her heart was pounding. A school night. Home late. No studying.

But she could do this. She could go to Glimmer’s house and watch a movie and not freak out. And she did. She managed to laugh along in the car, even though Glimmer and Bow were quoting vines and she had literally never seen a single one in her life. She managed to say hello to Glimmer’s mom, which made her smile at them from above their laptop.

“Congratulations to the football team on another outstanding victory.”

“Thanks, ma’am.”

That had made Glimmer’s mom laugh and Glimmer take Adora’s arm, rolling her eyes and muttering, “really, Adora? Do you have to be so perfect all the time?”

“Oh, I really do,” Adora said.

Glimmer turned then, a strange smile on her face that seemed to live mostly in her eyes. It brought heat to Adora’s face and she had to look away. Her stomach was still in knots, but she was determined to ignore it. It would be fine, she told herself. She did not have to study every day. In fact, she deserved a day off. She deserved to spend time with her friends.

At least, if Catra was allowed, she should be too. The thought wasn’t convincing. She wasn’t Catra – there weren’t the same rules. But she was trying – she was really trying because she wanted to be less like herself and more like Glimmer.

That was, until the movie started. Children singing a nursery rhyme that sent chills up Adora’s arms.

“Wait,” She said, too late. “Is this a horror movie?”

“Yeah.” Bow said. He had buried himself in pillows, creating a wall between himself and Adora. Which meant that she was incredibly aware of Glimmer’s arm pressed against her own.

“I’m really not into horror movies.”

“Have you ever watched one?”

“Well, no.”

“Well Adora, sometimes you have to try things to know if you like them or not.”

Adora looked at Bow. He smiled back, but his eyes were behind her. On Glimmer. He raised an eyebrow slightly and Adora scowled at him. It was better to focus on the movie than on his smug face. Or how Glimmer shifted so that she was sat better every five minutes or so. Every time she did, she nudged against Adora.

The film didn’t end up being as scary as Adora thought it would be. Not when Glimmer and Bow were making sarcastic comments all the way through, and especially not when she could smell the shampoo Glimmer had used.

And when it was over, Bow glanced at his phone and groaned, throwing himself backwards onto the pillows.

“Look at the time! And I’m so tired! I don’t know how I’ll ever make it down the street!”

“Do you want to stay here the night, Bow?” Glimmer said, with a tone that suggested she knew the answer.”

“It’s so late, Glimmer, I couldn’t bother my dads at this time of night.”

“It’s not even ten o’clock.” Adora said.

“So late.”

“You can stay too if you want,” Glimmer said. She glanced at Adora.

“Yes!” Bow was back up in an instant, an arm around Adora’s shoulder. “Best friends night! We’ll marathon the original It as well, make s’mores in the microwave-“

“It’s a school night,” Adora said. It was one thing to blow the afternoon off – but she had a sneaking suspicion she would be looking at her textbooks before she went to sleep. It was meant to help you remember it, after all.

“I’m staying.”

“Bow, half of your house is already here,” Glimmer said. She rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling.

“I also don’t have my phone with me.”

“You can use mine.” Bow was already pulling his out of his pocket.

“No – no, my mom – she doesn’t – she doesn’t answer if she doesn’t know who it is.” It was a half-lie. Generally true, but she also couldn’t risk Catra spilling the beans. Anyway, her phone was at home. By all accounts, she was too.

“It’s fine,” Glimmer said. Almost too quickly.

“Did your phone break or something?” Bow asked. “Why’d you forget it?”

Well, she wasn’t about to tell them that Beatrix had installed a tracker. That she was sneaking out and breaking the rules just by being with them.

“Yeah, just left it on the side like a dummy.” Sometimes it scared her how casually she could lie. Between her and Catra, it was easy to come up with something believable fast.

There was a pause. A horrible pause where Adora was terrified that they were about to find out. But then Glimmer nudged Adora with her elbow. “C’mon, you, I’ll drive you home.”

Adora’s stomach jumped. She tried not to let it show on her face as she stood.

“Can I hang out with your mom whilst you’re gone?” Bow asked after them.

“No.”

“Can I raid the fridge?”

“As long as you leave my chocolate.”

“Boo.”

Glimmer flipped the bird at him before she followed Adora up the staircase.

“Bow’s actually going home?” Mrs Gongjunim called from the living room. There was a documentary on as they passed.

“Ah, no,” Glimmer stuck her head around the doorframe and Adora dithered behind her. She couldn’t imagine springing something like that on a parent. A few days notice was needed, at least. “He’s staying, I’m dropping Adora back.”

Mrs Gongjunim looked around. She smiled at Adora with the air of a queen and she found herself trying to fix an awkward smile on her face back.

“Thank you for having me,” she said.

“It’s a pleasure, Adora. Though, I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave Bow alone.”

“He’s been alone here plenty of times,” Glimmer said. There was a tightness in her voice.

Mrs Gongjunim raised an eyebrow. She stood, switching off the t.v without even looking. “It’s getting late, Glimmer. Why don’t I drop Adora back?”

“Because that would be weird? She’s like half an hour away – tops.”

“Is this just because I’m your headteacher?”

“It’s because you’re my mom.” Glimmer crossed her arms.

Adora shifted her weight. An argument was brewing in the air – she could feel it. It made her tense – made her want to run. To make herself small and get out of the way. She wondered if Mrs Gongjunim would shout. If Glimmer would shout back. An image popped into her head of Glimmer with bruises that matched her eye colour.

She squeezed her eyes tight – voices buzzing around her like wasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening here as well – where everything was nice, clean and smelt of vanilla-

A hand touched her shoulder.

She opened her eyes to see Mrs Gongjunim looking down at her. She was smiling slightly, but there was an elegant crease in her brow that showed concern. Glimmer was stood behind her, her arms crossed as she scowled at the floor. She had blown out her cheeks slightly and it brought a cute blowfish to Adora’s mind.

“Shall I meet you in the car?” Mrs Gongjunim said. She smiled as she glanced between them. “I’ll leave you to say your goodbyes.”

That made Glimmer blush bright red. “Mom!”

But Gongjunim was laughing at her child yelling at her as she headed down the hall, fishing car keys out of a trinket dish like a Roman lady plucking grapes from a bunch.

Adora’s face was warm too. The insinuation had been heavy in Mrs Gongjunim’s voice and she cleared her throat as if that would help to dispel the awkward atmosphere.

“Thanks – for today,” Glimmer said. She pulled at the sleeve of her oversized cardigan and smiled self-consciously. She wasn’t quite meeting Adora’s eyes. “I know it must have been a struggle.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Adora tried to bluff.

Glimmer just shrugged. “It just seems like – you’re not a person to change up your schedule. It was cool that you did, for us. When we’re the reason the team ditched you.”

“Don’t make it sound like I’m doing you a favour.” Adora was surprised to find anger sprouting in her voice. “You’re doing me a favour. Just for letting me hang around you when I’m an asshole.”

“Then the pleasure was all mine.” Glimmer was really smiling now, her cheeks glowing. She glanced up at Adora, then suddenly she was throwing her arms around her. She was hugging her – tight – maybe as tightly as she had at that first game of the season. Adora couldn’t tell. It seemed much more intimate now. She could feel the shape of Glimmer’s body against hers and Adora’s arms were around Glimmer’s waist before she could think about it. Glimmer was warm. And she smelt of vanilla and pink lemonade infuser sticks. Adora hadn’t known two smells that worked so well together – that were so Glimmer.

Then the moment was over, and Glimmer was walking Adora to the door, looking only slightly better. Adora wondered if her face was still boiling – she figured it was, from the way the cold air felt against her cheeks.

She climbed into Glimmer’s mom’s car – a Honda, the most mom car imaginable, turning to see Glimmer’s silhouette at the doorway. She was leant against the doorframe, waving and smiling. Adora felt short of breath.

“You know, I used to hate you,” Glimmer’s mom seemed to be talking almost to herself as she started down the driveway. She saw Adora’s expression in the rearview mirror and laughed. “I only mean because I had to hate whoever Glimmer hated.”

“She really hated me, huh?” Adora managed to stumble out.

“You know, I could never quite figure it out. She’d curse you in one breath, then turn around and say that you had beautiful blue eyes in the next.”

Adora stopped breathing for a moment. “Oh.”

“But she doesn’t talk to me. I have to try and catch her and Bow’s conversations.”

Adora forced a laugh. “You don’t listen in?”

“I respect my daughter’s privacy,” Mrs Gongjunim said. “If there’s something she wants to tell me, she knows I’m all ears. But there’s a line. She can decide where she wants to place it.”

“Would you,” Adora paused. She took a breath. Something about this felt safe – in a mom’s car in the dark. “Would you track her phone?”

"We considered it. Just in case either of us were out late. But I'm not out very much these days and Glimmer's always with Bow, or most lately, you. I know she'll be safe if she's with someone else, and if I'm worried I can call. I trust her. That's the most important thing - trust."

"Did you swallow a parenting book, or something?" Yet Adora was picking her nails. Beatrix didn't trust her. And Adora didn't think she trusted her either. She was far more likely to call Bow or Glimmer of she needed help.

"In a way." Mrs Gongjunim smiled. "I have a degree in child psychology."

"Oh." Adora wasn't sure what to say to that. They were there. At the top of her road and she said, "I can - walk from here."

"Nonsense. I'm seeing you get through the door safely."

So Adora scrunched in her seat, as if that would stop Mrs Gongjunim realising what street they were on. She stopped outside Adora's and cut the engine.

"How long have you and Glimmer been together?" she asked.

Adora was sure that her brain had stopped circuiting. For a moment, she froze, then all of her words came out at once. "We're - we're not- dating. We're - friends. We're just - I'm not even, well I'm not sure if I'm even-"

She was getting used to the word, but she didn't want to say it in front of her headteacher. It felt like a word adults shouldn't hear. Just a teenage secret.

"I see." But Mrs Gongjunim's face was kind. She smiled at Glimmer in the orange light of the streetlamp. "Adora, if you're ever struggling, I'd be happy to talk you through some of your feelings."

"I - I don't think-" Adora broke off. There were so many awkward elements to that. How on earth could she go to her headteacher and say that she had a crush on her daughter? Not to mention the kick in her gut at the mention of it. Counselling. It made her physically recoil. No. No, counselling wasn't perfect. Counselling was admitting that she couldn't cope. And she could. She could cope. "I think that would be kind of weird. You're my best friend's mom."

"Yes, I can see why that would be an issue." There was a pause. Adora put her hand on the car door. She was itching to get out. "I'll save you the over protective talk on if you hurt my daughter, then."

Adora gave an awkward laugh - as if that was amusing - just to be polite, and climbed out the car, still muttering thank yous.

It was only when she had closed the front door as quietly as she could behind her, that she realised what she said. That Glimmer was her best friend. How did that happen?

No, she knew how. It was the car rides and the milkshakes and everything in between. But she didn't know when. Couldn't pinpoint an exact moment where she had felt like Catra wasn't her friend.

And Glimmer was, apparently. Adora's best friend, who she had a crush on. She couldn't believe the cliche of it all. And it was terrifying. It was terrifying how Glimmer's smile made her heart pound. As terrifying as a horror movie.

Yet, the horror movie that they had watched hadn't been scary at all. Adora had managed that. She remembered what Bow had said at lunch. That Glimmer had told him to shut up about it. Glimmer's mom had said Glimmer had talked about Adora's eyes.

So maybe it wasn't that scary after all.

"I don't think your mom likes me."

"I meant to tell you I like your hair like that."

Adora wondered if she should have been surprised to find Glimmer crouching on the porch roof. But it seemed so natural. That she would just be drifting off to sleep to hear a knock on her window. She had peeked through the curtains – terrified at first that it was one of the team. Then her eyes had made out Glimmer’s shape in the darkness. She had opened the window without a second thought and now they were there – just staring at each other.

"What?"

“You'd better come in," Adora whispered. "Unless you want to stay out there all night, Romeo?"

Glimmer grinned at that. She pressed a hand to her heart, the other to her forehead. "I take thee at thy word – call me but love, and I’ll be new baptis’d!"

"Ssshh!" Adora pressed a finger to her lips, but she was giggling. Giggling. Adora. The words didn't usually go together. "You'll wake my mom or Catra."

"Oh shit, wouldn't want to wake the nurse." Glimmer climbed through, sitting on the windowsill so that the night air stirred the hair on the back of her neck. “No, more like that gross-ass guy in Tempest.”

“Don’t.” But Adora was still reeling from the Shakespeare. She couldn’t quote it – not like that. “Did you leave Bow on his own?”

"Yeah, why?" Glimmer swung her legs slightly. "He's busy texting his dreamboat. I thought I'd hang out with you."

Adora sat on the end of her bed. Why was she nervous? How could she be nervous in her own home? Of Glimmer. Glimmer, who she said was her best friend.

Glimmer who wanted to hang out with her.

"Isn't Bow your best friend?" she asked. It used to make her heart pound, now she just felt curious.

"Yeah, but, hanging out with you feels," Glimmer paused, tilting her head to one side. "Different." It made Adora's breath catch. "My mom doesn't hate you."

"She seemed - I don't know, like she was giving me the third degree." Adora leant backwards on the bed and turned her lamp on. It lit the room with a soft, yellow glow. Made Glimmer look like the colours of a sunset. "Like she was a dad cocking her gun because I looked at her daughter."

Glimmer laughed aloud, then clamped a hand over her mouth when Adora shushed her. Her eyes bulged as they waited to be found out.

But there were no sounds in the hallway. Only Glimmer and Adora trying to stifle breathless laughter.

"God," Glimmer whispered. " I'm so sorry. It's better than when she was trying to get me to come out to her."

"Oh yeah?"

"She kept telling me about all these lesbians on shows that she's been watching. I think she was just googling them."

Adora wanted to laugh, but her smile faded when she went to . "At least she - cares."

Glimmer tilted her head again. She frowned, ever so slightly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean - I don't - I don't even know," Adora took a breath. She couldn't finish the sentence.

"Have we given you a case of the gay?" Glimmer was smiling about it, as if it was nothing. As if it was a perfectly good thing.

Adora smiled despite herself, as if smiling would fix things. "Maybe."

“And you don’t know how to tell your mom?” Glimmer moved, so that she was sat on the edge of the bed too.

“I don’t even know how to tell myself,” Adora whispered. She brought her knees up to her chest and realised just how plain her room was. Plain white walls, plain wooden furniture – no fairy lights or posters or anything with her name on it. No heart shaped cushions or fluffy blankets. It was like a hotel room.

“Oh, Adora.” Glimmer’s voice was soft. Her fingers brushed against Adora’s hair, pulling it back behind her ear. “You know, I did mean it earlier – and I meant to say it the other day, but I chickened out. Your hair looks good like this. You should wear it down more.”

Glimmer was close and her voice was low and her finger was still close to Adora’s ear. And yet she felt strangely calm. Her heart was still hammering out of her chest, but it seemed to be spurring her on. She thought that she was starting to connect the dots.

“That’s really not helping my case of the gays,” she whispered.

Glimmer paused. She was still smiling, but she wasn’t meeting Adora’s eyes.

“That sounds like a you problem,” Glimmer whispered back. “I can’t help being beautiful.”

“I never said that.”

“Yes, you did.”

That was when Adora remembered. It seemed like lifetimes ago that Glimmer was sat in her passenger seat, leaving glitter on the seat and scowling at Adora. Ages since she blew that kiss at her.

“I was feeling like shit that night,” Glimmer continued. She started to pick at some of the glittery nail polish coating her fingers like icing and, without even thinking about it, Adora put her hand over Glimmer’s to stop her. Her fingers looked like ivory against Glimmer’s olive skin. “And hearing you say that – well, I still didn’t like you, but it made me feel so much better about myself. And ever since then I’ve felt more – and I know this is about you and I’m making it about me, but – thank you. Thank you so much, Adora.”

And just like that, Glimmer tilted her face to the side and pressed her lips against Adora’s cheek.

She froze. Completely froze. Her hand was still on Glimmer’s and her heart was still pounding but she couldn’t move. It was as if she had been snapped in a polaroid camera and was just – stuck. She could only listen to the beating of her blood in her ears. Glimmer’s hand was warm under hers, and her breath was hot on her cheek.

“Oh, I’m – sorry,” Glimmer whispered. She pulled away, pulled her hand out from under Adora’s. “That – that doesn’t have to mean anything, if you don’t want it to. It can just be – like a gal pal’s thing, if you want.”

And it felt like taking a nosedive off of a cliff. It was the point of no return, but Adora was chasing Glimmer’s hand with her own fingers and squeezing it tight. She knew that her hands were cold – knew that she was freezing – and yet she hoped that Glimmer might share a little of her warmth. Just for a little while.

“No – I – I’d like it to mean something.”

She wished that she hadn’t turned the light on because it was suddenly hard to meet those lavender eyes.

“Oh,” Glimmer breathed. “Oh. Well then, I suppose we should…”

She trailed off, leaning back towards Adora. It had only just occurred to her that she didn’t have a lot of experience in this department – no experience in this department – and Glimmer almost certainly had more than her. What was she going to do? How was she going to manage to pull this off? She was going to have to kiss a girl – a girl she liked, and –

And Glimmer’s lips pressed against her own. It was a clumsy, awkward, partly misplaced kiss. Yet it made Adora’s mouth tingle and she liked it – liked it almost as much as she liked Glimmer – and if she could just tilt her head slightly –

A door creaked open in the hallway.

“Adora? Are you okay?”

She swore. Her hand tightened on Glimmer’s out of reflex. “She can’t find you here.”

“Right.” Glimmer was at the window in the next moment. She turned, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at Glimmer. Her cheeks were pink – pink and round and Glimmer was glowing. Adora felt the same – like she was full of fire and it was escaping through every one of her pores. “I’ll see you at school.”

She blew Adora a kiss, and then slid off the roof in the next moment.

Adora had never given much thought to Romeo and Juliet. She had only said it tonight in a throwaway joke. But now she was tempted to pick it up and read it – just read it for fun.

Only because she was pretty certain that she knew exactly how Juliet felt.

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