#also i adore the way the show shows us how most of the banshees end up going insane because of their powers

[blackhholes]

teen wolf meme: [2/6] creatures -> banshees

It's not the scream that gives you power... All the scream does is help drown out the noise, allowing you to hear what you really need to.

[br4inr0tx]

Greetings and Salutations ♡ meant to do this awhile back, but if you're still doing matchups I'd like to request a hazbin hotel matchup, if not that's okay feel free to ignore

My pronouns are She/Him and I’m Pansexual. I'm an INFP, sign being Scorpio. Im a 5'4 Hispanic female with a pear shaped figure and am a bit chubby. I have shoulder length dyed red hair thats messy constantly and gets in my face all the time which others tend fix for me for some reason. I’m an extroverted introvert, though it's really hard to speak to people or make friends as I suffer from paranoia and have scopophobia (I also have depression, and PTSD. I tend to dissociate/ feel as I'm not real) so it's rather intimidating to be around those who are new and I'm not comfortable with, I can be considered a non people person due to the fact I'm hard to approach thanks to my resting bitch face and keep my distance. It leads to many making assumptions about me / not liking me. My style consists of Goth/Grunge, and my interests align with my style as I love true crime, horror movies, gore, analog horror, induldge in the splatterpunk genre of books and love junji ito and have a few of his manga. I love finding and collecting little things for my friends and give it to them as a gift no matter what it is to the point my friends call me crow as a joke. When I finally become comfortable with someone I become very talkative and speak in a rather fast paced manner and tend to speak in both English and Spanish. I love to joke around with them and banter. Most of my humor comes off as rude or just fucked up, though I'll never joke in a manner that actually hurts the person and will apologize if I've overstepped. I’m not good with my temper however and can be pretty mean, or just go very quiet. If pushed far enough I’ll snap at anything and everything to the point I'm nothing but numb and the goal is to hurt the person. My favorite things to do for comfort / hobbies are drawing, reading, writing, playing video games (overwatch, dead by daylight, hollow knight) and or blasting music ( MCR, Get Scared, Deftones, Pierce the Veil, Souixie and the banshees, Mother Mother ). I’m a little clingy and possessive with those I love / am romantically involved with due to a lot of issues I need reassurance in any form of way it doesn't matter how big or small. I enjoy doing things for others and speak rather romantically and call them pet names. Dealing with insomnia I'm definitely awake most hours and am happy if someone is a night owl and spends that time up with me as night is likely my favorite time always having adored the moon and stars . I’m definitely a masochist and a switch though am guilty of leaning more towards submissive,,, ♡ - Cherri

you omg I remember you. thank you for the matchup on my end, I really appreciated it. :)

Your Hazbin Hotel matchup is.. Alastor !!

• This might be biased because you’re his wife, however, I just feel like the two of you would click. Husk would find you way too soft emotionally, Niffty wants someone more dominant, Angel is well..not attracted to any sort of femininity.. and Charlie and Vaggie find your gruesome interests frightening. Another person I thought about was Pentious,, but I think any parter would grow tired of his naivety and arrogant nature. And I just genuinely can’t picture you keeping up with Cherri-Bomb, light heartedly.

• So, that left me with this fucker. He has softer spots for certain people (as seen with Niffty and maybe Charlie) and when it comes to you he treats you somewhat like a..cherished pet? Trust me, you most likely would want to be put at that level than be on his shit-list.

• You’re so small and fragile..how could a tiny thing like you fall for him so easily- and not be intimidated? He teases you about it often, using you as an arm rest, or just by grabbing something atop the shelf just to show how bigger he is to you.

• Deep down, he loves you for you. He wouldn’t change a thing about you even if things about you he wishes you to get stronger from or at. Everyone has flaws, and he knows that. Learning from those flaws is something he wants to teach you. Perhaps you could do the same.

• For example, he finds some of your fears pathetic. As a high and mighty figure there isn’t much for him to fear, so its understandable. Though he might tell you to suck it up if he’s running low on patience. Other times he’s more forgiving.

• His style is more of a gothic Victorian thing. Or as Angel says; a pimp. With his New Orleans background I’d like to think he would dress similar to Dr Facilier from The Princess and The Frog.

• Point is, he enjoys a good dark toned style. Dress in something more of his style, and his jaw will DROP.

• He’s kind of tough,, he won’t watch movies with you, or watch anything really TV related. Though if theirs a live projection screening, or talk show on horror movies or true crime, he’ll watch or listen that way. I think he makes his rivalry with Vox really clear that way imo.

• Alastor doesn’t get this manga you read. The visuals are impressive-sure-but why do you read it backwards? And why is it all mostly pictures? Ironically, I see him reading them anyway just to understand them. He loves to learn if it partains to him.

• He takes the nickname "crow" to seriously, symbolism wise. Crow’s are related to death, bad luck, revenge, and most importantly..pride. Really anytime he sees one it compels him to think about you, and in return maybe even get you a thoughtful gift. In his prideful way he changed it into a nickname you should be proud of. He tends to just call you “my crow.”

• Fast or slow talking, Alastor is very quick witted and usually understands every word you’re saying. He has very fucked up humor and would gladly join you in bickering about morbid things.

• As a overlord, he doesn’t really have time for insults. All "water off a ducks back" n stuff. He makes an effort to teach that to you as well. Though that effort quickly becomes slightly hypocritical when someone says something to you while he’s right next to you. I mean, the audacity, right?

• Again, being an overlord he can’t show any sense of vulnerability. That being said the only way you can see him even close to being cuddly is in your shared bed, shortly before the two of you fall asleep. He might settle for slight hand holding, but even then only with a limited amount of people.

• Alastor is a healthy man, physically, and makes and effort to get a proper sleep schedule. He’s going to help you do the same, even if he has to use one of his spells or sing you to sleep. Those times are the times you’d see him cuddle you the most.

• Most of the pet names he uses are “dear”, “love”, “darling”, and “sweetheart”. Simple, yet with his charming and smooth voice, very effective.

• Imagine the two of you dancing to Arm Tonite by Mother Mother. He admits it’s not his type of music, but something about the lyrics pulls at his heart strings.

• Or even imagine a cute date night with the two of you..first he takes you out to dinner at a VERY expensive restaurant, and then takes you out stargazing. It’s all different from what it used to be with the red sky and all..but he hopes it’s just as enjoyable.

• I know it’s canonical he’s asexual, but I think he’s still romantic? Especially in the additional comic where he somewhat flirts with some ladies. Though the fandom, per usual, throws that out the window.

• Still, he gives more dominant vibes for any relationship. He’s used to being at the top for most things, so why should it just stop at power?

• The two of you are peas in a pod. Your own little twisted fairy tail. Whatever I could use to describe to cheesy romance- you get it. A match made for in hell. <3

[esperanta-dragon]

I feel like there is a need to write down why so many people hate Sylvanas so much, me included. Maybe you can’t stand her too OR you love her and you don’t understand why the hell people can hate such an amazing character. Here is why. And I will try to write this down logically as possible. No “hur dur I hate her because she is a bitch!”. No, I will put down all things so you can understand. And one sad disclaimer... it’s not the character’s fault.

WHY WE STARTED TO LOVE HER

Sylvanas showed up in Warcraft III as a Ranger General of Quel’thalas. She was protecting her country for quite some time when Arthas attacked Eversong Woods in order to get to Sunwell and resurrect Kel’Thuzad as a lich. Sylvanas paid with her life and her soul to protect her people and her country. She was made banshee and was forced to do things against her will and serve the Scourge she hated. But she was still plotting her revenge, didn’t give up until the moment came and she took the chance. She reclaimed her body back and almost killed Arthas, and took over Lordaeron City. Then she took over the undead slowly freeing from the Lich King’s grasp and gave them a place where to stay, becoming their Queen. And since then, she was planning to kill the Lich King for good.

That’s why we loved her (I never did, I will explain that later why). She really kicked his ass. She slapped the Scourge in the face. She never gave up and was doing everything to achieve her goals, her revenge. There are not so many such strong female characters, so resolute. She was not good but also not evil, she was shady, she was not the boring good guy. So why the hell people hate her? She is perfect! Let’s go to what happened during and after WotLK... Because here it starts.

WRATH OF THE LICH KING

As I said, many people adore Sylvanas since Warcraft III. But they don’t understand the character is not the same. She was never good, she was an anti-hero, that’s the fact (the Ebon Blade are also anti-heroes and they are not bad, they just do necessary things to keep the Scourge in check). She was doing everything to take revenge on Arthas. And everything means that she had no problems walking over corpses of her allies. Causalities because of my fault? Pfft! No matter as long as the piece of trash sitting on the Frozen Throne will get what he deserves!

This was pretty much visible after Wrathgate when Varimathras and Putress tried to take over Undercity and Alliance and the Horde saw what she is doing inside the city. Still fine, it was in character, she was doing EVERYTHING to take revenge on Arthas. Everything. That’s why she existed, why she kept going. Even back then, I didn’t hate her. She was still a very well-written character. This is what a character in her position would do. 

But once everything was done, the Lich King was taken care of, she realized there is no point in her existence. She saw the Lich King was not destroyed. They only replaced him. So she threw herself from the Icecrown Citadel and fell on saronite spikes, the only thing that could definitely kill her.

And she ended up in a dark place. And the pain she felt was not like anything she felt before. It was the most horrible, the most inconsolable place. But val’kyras came down to her and sacrificed for her to get her back. Now we know what happened as we progress in the Shadowlands but... let’s say this was the beginning of the end for a good character Sylvanas once was. This was a start of cliché, inconsistency, and a great example that good characters should be allowed to go and leave so they can be remembered as a good characters.

WHAT CHANGED

Look, I came to WoW really late. I was playing on WotLK free servers as I could not afford to pay for official servers. But I knew the story in WotLK and I was still pretty ok with Sylvanas. I don’t remember hating her this much. She was well written.

It was Cataclysm Firelands patch when I finally could come to official servers. And Sylvanas was already doing pretty shady and disgusting stuff. I played Forsaken starting quest line so I know. Raising undead like the Lich King did? No problem for her. She even said she is like Arthas but she is working for the Horde (she never cared for them anyway, it was just more beneficial for her). What happened in Gilneas was not alright. Who gases the whole zone and making it inhabitable? Alright, let’s say Horde was expanding and Gilneas was next to Lordaeron. Alright. But back then, I finally dove deep into lore and I’ve noticed many people are really devoted to Sylvanas. It seemed almost like a cult. And every time I asked people, why they love this psyhopathic banshee, they were like: “She is my Queen! I love her, I would die for her! She is cool, she is taking care of us, she has a good heart!”

Something was amiss here... I couldn’t understand this. I couldn’t see what they saw. I saw a shady, ruthless and careless psychopath who is using her loyal subjects to save herself from something. And many people believed it even in BfA. Me and my friend had to show them excerpts from short stories where she say that “once they were arrows in her quiver, now they are bulwark against the darkness”. They couldn’t believe they loved Queen would not love them back!

But hey, still, I wanted to understand why people love her. I would understand if it would be still Warcraft III or WotLK, that’s fine. But Cata? Legion? BfA? Shadowlands? 

So I started reading all books, short stories where she was. Articles about her. I tried to catch the glimpse of why people loved her: the majority told me she is still good and has a good heart and she is an amazing person. But I didn’t see it. Maybe I am stupid and I don’t understand, I am missing something... So I kept studying, trying to see anything good in her, I was failing. I saw a character falling more down into a pit full of anger and hate. Her loyalists said she was an amazing creature, loving, caring.

And the more I was told by people that she is caring and she has a good heart, the more I was getting disgusted and angry because the more I was reading about her and the more her loyalists told me, the more I saw what Sylvanas is: inconsistent character.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH SYLVANAS

In one book she was written like this. In another book, she was written like that. In one quest it was like this, then it was like that. In one expansion she behaved this way, in the next expansion, it was that way. She was doing more and more twisted things and her loyalists kept telling me she has a good heart. My frustration was growing to the point I could not stand her. It felt like I’ve met the person I knew was torturing her friends but when I met them, they told me with bruises on their faces and definitely mentally abused that she is amazing and it’s not her fault, she is just misunderstood and I should love her too.

When she killed Liam Greymane, loyalists were like: “I have no clue why Genn hates her so much! That stupid dog should die!” Yeah right, somebody kills your son and destroys your home, you have no reason to be angry, it’s ok.

She burns down Teldrassil and they said: “Why Tyrande wants to kill her? I hope Sylvanas kills her first!” Sure, somebody burns down a city with thousands of innocent people, it’s fine, let them go, no hard feelings. And sometimes these people are able to justify her actions with: “But this is fantasy! There is different morale than in real world!” Please, guys, never ever write a story. Never touch it. You will end up like Steve Danuser making characters to behave like idiots and without emotions. Stay away. Please. Do world the favor.

I was trying really hard. Trying to figure out what kind of character she is. Find a pattern. Because you can write a chaotic character and still find a pattern and it can be still a consistent character. But Sylvanas? I felt more and more that not even Blizzard knows what to do with her, how to write her... she felt more and more inconsistent and out of place with every expansion. And you know what? That happens to characters which are kept in the story longer than they should. If character losts a meaning of their existence, there are only two options: you either let them go or you have to find them a new meaning. And in case of Sylvanas, the second option led to a narrative disaster.

We were told by Blizzard: “Don’t worry! Everything falls in place! It makes sense what she does!” But after the Sanctum of Domination finale? It was a big fat lie...

Before I come to the cinematic, let me tell you what made me hate her beyond every possible measure: her fandom.

HITLER HAD A GOOD HEART!

In Legion, she was doing shady stuff. But in BfA? She became a Hitler. She burned down Teldrassil because... IDK she snapped and wanted to show one elven archer that you can kill hope? And what kind of catapults she had has reach 20 km? What kind of catapults can burn down incredibly big tree SOAKED in water with thick bark. Was that azerite or... no, I am not gonna get angry. And I won’t even start with the b*shit Blizzard pulled: “Look, just because Sylvanas is right in front of Teldrassil doesn’t mean it was her who burned it down!” They had to lie to us to look that they can create a better story than what it actually is.

She destroyed Undercity so Forsaken lost their home. Is this how you take care of your subjects if you are loving and caring? I think not.

And with her actions, millions of souls from the whole cosmos are going right into the Maw for eternal suffering. And why? Because she was scared. Because instead of thinking about herself and trying to change, she rather schemed with the god of death... who was responsible for her misery. And even teamed with Kel’Thuzad, who was reason of her fate in the first place! And yet, after all this, after mass genocide, destroying souls, millions, maybe billions of souls are suffering because of her... and you can still tell me there is still good in her and she deserves redemption arch... And with love say: “She got us into this, she will get us out of this <3 ^_^” So somebody is making everybody suffer and some people are like “Ooooh it’s fine, I support her! I bet she will realize what she is doing and she will save us!” Would you say the same about Hitler? That he was misunderstood, he was trying to fix something that’s why he murdered millions of people? I am just asking what kind of people her loyalists are in real life.

I have a question... would you still love her if she was a man? Or decomposing undead? Or if she wouldn’t be sexy elf at all? If she would be ugly? I think we all know the answer (disclaimer, beautiful people are not always kind and nice, what a surprise). I bet she would be already killed or hated by majority of the community at least two expansions back. Why Garrosh had to stand trial for war crimes and Sylvanas doesn’t? To be honest, I never liked Garrosh, I hated him, but I never hated him as much I hate Sylvanas. He was at least consistent to his very last moment. But I am fed up by the fact that everybody keeps excusing what she does just because she is a sexy elf. This is not character I can respect. How can you say about such character that she is cool when you know she is commiting genocide? Let’s replace her with ugly elf and let’s see how many of you will still love her.

If you love her because she is a crazy homicidal maniac and you want her to do evil stuff, go ahead, nothing wrong with you, it’s fine. You love her because you think that she has a good heart and she is sending millions of souls into hell because she wants to help us? Take your pills and think twice before going on date with a manipulative person who will use you, beat you but will tell you they love you so much while cheating on you. Thanks.

If you are lying to yourself that she is good and has a good heart because you are afraid you wouldn’t like her anymore as a bad guy, then you love illusion you made around her, not the character itself. And you should seriously think if you really love the character if you need to change it that much in your mind to keep loving her.

GRAND FINALE

“If they are gonna give her redemption arch, I am gonna puke.” Many people told me, they would not. They are not gonna do it. She is beyond redemption, she is antagonist, period. Guess what, they did. The cheapest way possible.

Blizzard kept telling us everything will make sense in the end, why she did all these things. But it did not. And it only confirmed my greatest fear: Sylvanas is an inconsistent character since Cataclysm.

Sylvanas was afraid to go to the Maw. So she got an amazing idea. Let’s free the god of death, the malevolent creature trapped there because for sure he is suffering just like me, and injustice was done to him. He is the reason of my suffering because he made Helm of Domination and Frostmourne, that’s why I was killed and I am like this? I am sure he is a good guy, in the end, let’s remake reality so there is no life and death! That guy must be pretty ok. Oh wait his job is to torture souls? No, I don’t believe he is bad.

So when Jailer gets all he wanted, ofc he say that he will remake all reality and everybody will serve. And Sylvanas realizes: “Oh my, he is just like the Lich King! I didn’t want this! I will never serve!” Even she served him for the past few expansions. And suddenly she sees he is a bad guy. Suddenly.

And then, Jailer gives her half of her soul back... So... this is the explanation? She was doing all this because she was not whole? Is this an excuse for genocide? Now we will all feel sorry for her? Tell her it’s ok, you were not yourself?

I am saying this all the years and I will say it again: the Ebon Blade are order full of those with a fate like Sylvanas. The whole order. Multiple characters suffered under the Lich King like her, lost themselves, were made to kill their friends, their families. And they, too, took revenge on him. But instead of going crazy and trying to hurt everybody because they were hurt, they tried to help and protect people. Maybe they are missing part of their souls too. But are they running around, burning innocents, committing genocide? No. So please, the is no excuse, she was aware of what she was doing. I am not buying this and for sure this won’t make me feel sorry for her. It was her choice. You can be depressed and hurt into the very core and still decide not to be homicidal maniac.

Another annoying thing is, Blizzard kept telling us she is a master strategist and she is highly inteligent. Would a highly inteligent person try to help somebody responsible for her suffering? Being ok with them? There was not shown how come she is ok with the Jailer! Look I thought she is smart but after the cinematic, she does not look like that.

What was her plan anyway? Did she believe such creature won’t betray her, he won’t dump her? I was hoping he will dump her and kill her. That would be the only ending fitting for the character. I didn’t want another Kerrigan, I didn’t want redemption arch for her... I was hoping I will finally like her as a villain. Now I can’t... there is no way I will like her ever again because Blizzard probably can’t do just evil characters. There always must be something behind, some explanation why they are like this. “I was good this whole time!” And I am tired of this... Suddenly I like Garrosh because he was an asshole but he was consistent. He had a good ending. He “died” like a boss.

THEY SHOULD HAVE LET HER DIE

And I mean it. If they would let her go after WotLK, it would be a good ending for her. Tragic end for the tragic character. She fulfilled her purpose and she would be remembered as a good consistent character. But she is making a lot of money, many people love her (not anymore, even people who liked her hate her now and her fanbase is getting smaller) so Blizzard decided they have to milk her as much as possible.

I think everything good should come to an end. “You would either die as a hero or live long enough to become a villain.” In this case “You would either die as a good character or live long enough to become inconsistent and annoying character.” And it happened.

Remember how people were angry how Thrall is getting a lot of attention in Cata? Haha, good old times. How about Sylvanas in 3 expansion cinematics (and some side cinematics like Reckoning, etc) and 2 expansions fully focusing on her (and some other expansions where she is a lot too). How about the 15th figure in a row. And 4th Blizzcon art. And I can keep going.

Metzen had favorite characters... but they were never overused as much as Sylvanas. Vol’jin was warchief for 1 expansion where he did nothing and then he died so she could take lead in story. So many characters are forgotten, pushed down so she can be on the spotlight. And I am sick of it. This is not single player, this is MMORPG. The world feels ridiculously small thanks to this, we have more characters than Sylvanas + 5 characters they keep using and recycling all the time.

And keep using Sylvanas and putting her into the spotlight all the time did not help. You can start hating character you liked before just because you have enough of them and you want to see other characters. This world has a big potential. So many characters are unused because of Sylvanas. Because the lead narrative designer loves her so much that he had to make her the main character of WoW and doesn’t care there is a whole world to take care of. And he does the worst job possible. Because he tried to make her complicated and complex and in the end he was just trying to make it look like that but it didn’t work out. It was just inconsistent. It didn’t fall in place.

Her plot armor is so laughable and it’s the most annoying thing about Sylvanas. How characters around her are so stupid and dumb so they can let her do such stuff (hello Horde in BfA). The whole universe and Blizzard especially is protecting Sylvanas of any harm. How can you like such character when it behaves like Mary Sue? I didn’t want to see cinematic how she comes and beat up really powerful guy without any issues. You know how interesting would be if Four Horsemen managed to arrive earlier and they wouldn’t know if to fight the Lich King or Sylvanas? No, Blizzard wanted to show lady Sylvanas Plotarmor.

And the worst thing is, I feel like Shadowlands are my last expansion in WoW. This is where the story ends for me. And I know that many characters won’t get resolution, many story arcs will never close because they’ve put too much effort to work on Sylvanas and ignore other characters. So many characters could have met. Lore in Shadowlands could have been expanded about The Scourge, death knights, rune magic, etc... it did not. 

So no, Sylvanas is not one of the best characters created. If this is the best WoW can muster then there is nothing to be proud of. We would have good or better characters if Blizzard tried to work with more characters and give them space and a chance to develop. But we will never have them because Sylvanas took the spotlight.

Sylvanas for me is the character who will be put on guidelines on how to not use a character. This character will be perfect for DO NOT character development guidelines. And the whole story of WoW at least in BfA and Shadowlands is a great example of how to destroy the world with an amazing setting and characters. 

I hope I’ve made this clear why many people hate her. Because it’s much more complex problem. This character was misused, written horribly, overused, was given a poor and cheap story arch, made look stupid and it no longer makes sense. And on top of that, many characters will never get a resolution, many storylines won’t be finished because all story was focused on her and not on the world. World which was supposed to be “everybody’s story” was made story about Sylvanas. Just because she sells.

Good job Danuser, I hope you are happy.

Tl;Dr: Sylvanas is inconsistent since Cataclysm because Blizzard tried to make her complex character artificially and failed horribly. She should have died after WotLK and never made Warchief. They should have let her go so we can remember her as a good consistent character

P.S.: I am not native speaker, sorry for grammar errors.

[the-fiction-witch]

Morning

MOVIE NOWHERE BOY

COUPLE PAUL X READER

RATING SMUT!!!!

I stood looking out the window seeing the dew across the grass and the clouds in the sky, the sky that strange colour before the sun rose but enough light that you could see. A little condensation on the inside of the window the little white paint slowly breaking off in little ways on the windowsill. My little box of guitar picks sat on one side on the other a small plant pot no bigger then tea cup with some dark dirt and a little yellow flower.

"Ummm paul. What are you doing up so early?" I heard her sweet voice smile her voice groggy and tried but still bubbly and sweet

"I can't sleep. I didn't mean to wake you" I told her turning away from the window closing the red curtains seeing the little room I had learnt to call my home.

I moved out of my dad's house he wanted to move away from the old place anyways, so I had got a little flat well I say flat it was a house someone divided up, I had the Downstairs and someone else lived upstairs I didn't know I rarely saw them honestly. My bedroom was nothing to shout about I had a double bed with soft white and red covers, a bedside table with a glass of water, the wardrobe built Into the wall, a chest of draws with my mirror, my comb and a few odds and ends scattered across the top a few boxers and socks leaking out the draws. But most importantly the most beautiful thing in my room...

Y/n, my sweet girlfriend. Laid in my bed wrapped up in the covers her sweet y/h/c hair matted and messy from tossing and turning in her sleep relaxed and loose from her usual sculpted curls. Her make up gone leaving her beautiful skin, pale lips and dark circles under her eyes. Her body was wrapped up so tight where she must have been cold, she saw me looking and sat up having a little strech keeping the covers around her waist as she wore only my white shirt that I usually had under my button downs using it as her nightie it falling slightly off her shoulder revealing bare skin from her Arm, shoulder and chest.

"You didn't, good morning" she cooed

"Good morning, what are you doing up so early?' I asked her going over and sitting on my bed hearing the springs creak as I did

"I missed you" she shurgs her shoulders playfully moving her head to one side with that adorable little smile "I got all lonesome without you" she giggled putting her knees up to her chest

"I'm sorry beautiful, I couldn't sleep is all. I didn't wanna bother you"

"It's okay, what are you thinking about?' she smiled moving down the bed and giving my nose a kiss "what's going on it that head"

"Just thinking"

"Your always thinking paul. You don't ever stop." She giggled "what are you thinking about?" She asks going back to lean against my headboard

"How beautiful you look in my bed."

"Awww your too sweet" she blushed

"You do. You really do y/n. I wish you could sleep in my bed every night"

"I'd like that too, maybe soon we could... Snuggle up every night and every morning" she giggled

"You- you'd really want to?"

"Of course I would, I love staying at yours" she giggled

"I love when you stay over too" I smiled giving her lips a little kiss "but if you want to then... I'd be happy for you to"

"Really?"

"Of course, y/n you stay here atleast four nights a week as it is. If you wanted to move in you'd be more than welcome" I smiled

"I'll think about it Mr" she giggled getting out of bed and giving my cheek a kiss she intentionally wiggled her butt as she walked my shirt barely concealing her from my eyes as she walked across the room and out the door to the rest of the apartment, I smiled looking at the mess she had made of my bed the pillows out of place, the covers a mess but I smiled you could almost see the indent in the old mattress where she always sleeps on this side when she wondered back she handed me a cup of tea and she sat back in bed with her own cup "what's the plan today?"

"I need a shower. Then tidy up, john's coming over got some stuff he needs to show me" I told her having a sip of tea

"Ummm" she hummed her fingers wrapped some delicately around the cup

"What's the ummm for?"

"That means we don't have time for cuddles this morning" she whined pulling a sad face at me

"You had cuddles. All night"

"But I'd like some more" she whines putting her tea down and opening her arms I smiled putting mine down to and giving her a hug she bundled up closely as snug as a bug with me I smiled and gave her a kiss before getting up leaving her all sad again

"I'm sorry beautiful, but I need my shower" I told her going to my draws getting some clothes for the day today

"Paul" she cooed making me turn to see her sat against the headboard my shirt hung low, the covers away from her, her knees pulled to her chest she smiled playfully at me with blush in her cheeks as she licked her lips looking at me and she opened her legs wide, my shirt doing nothing to conceal her, I couldn't help staring at her plump lips, her already engorged clit, her glistening pussy, her cute butt perched on my matress, I bit my lip hard feeling my shorts tighten just looking at her like that

"Ooh. I see." I smirked making sure my curtains where closed shutting the door to the rest of the apartment, I took a single specifically I put a spell on you. I know what that song does to her from the side throwing the paper on the dresser setting it on to spin and smirking crawling over ever with her "hummm my beautiful girl horny?" I whispered in her ear hearing the first beats of the song kick up she didn't even answer she just grabbed my face and pulled me to kiss her, I smirked kissing back adding a little tongue into the hot and heavy kiss till I pulled back winking at her before kissing down her jaw, then down her neck, down her chest feeling her breasts against me concealed by the shirt, I smirked wrapping my arms around her thighs licking her sweet pussy, kissing her clit and burying my head between her legs listening to her squeal playing with my hair oftentimes tugging or pushing when she wanted more, I licked and sucked and sometimes even gently nibbled on all her most sensitive of places I knew from years of dating, filled by her hormonal gasps and moans, I kept going becoming rather mercilous on her feeling her legs shaking as she got closer and closer to

"AAAAHHHHH! UUuughhhh! Paul!!! Uuuuuuughhh!" She sqeauled at the top of her lungs I smirked sitting up wiping my mouth with the back of my hand looking at her as she gasps calming down, in her own little wet patch from her squirt. I smirked down at her feeling myself throb for her, I pushed my shorts down revealing my hard erection she caught eyes on it immediately and blushed a little I smirked glancing down at myself and then back to her it was milliseconds but she knew what I wanted she smiled taking a gulp of the water on the side table before crawling down the bed and kissing her wet kisses all over my shaft

"Fuck beautiful-" I gasped feeling those soft kisses "y/n please!" I groaned struggling to watch those perfect lips kissing my cock she smiled up at me innocently and evily, before taking me completely in her mouth "uughhhh! Oohh god! Fuck! Y/n!" I moaned grabbing her hair my head thrown back in pleasure feeling her licks and sucks, moving her head back and forth, from base to tip. I pushed her back leaving her laid giggling at me I smirked pouncing on her and kissing those evil lips I knew I could taste myself on her lips and she could likely taste herself on my own but I didn't care I pulled back grabbing her hips and pushing her to lay on her stomach she giggled and did as I asked sitting her knees up, I moved and instantly slipped inside "fuck!! Y/n! Uuuuhhhhh!" I groaned not wasting a single second moving as fast, as hard, as deep as I possibly could listening to her scream all the while my hips working on there own going crazy just feeling his good she felt, the sounds of the bed creaking and sqeeking, our skin slapping together, get faster and faster "uuuuhhhhh uuuuhhhhh!! Y/n! Beautiful.... I'm gonna cum!" I groaned trying so hard not to loose it, I didn't need to last long I just wanna make her cum, one more time! She didn't respond still moaning and screaming for me, and I couldn't take it anymore I moved her slightly pulling her back against my chest so she now sat ontop of me reverse cowgirl as I sat on my knees I almost ripped my shirt off her leaving her naked moving her just as fast as I had been but my hands folding those sexy breasts making her screams get louder and louder feeling how much wetter she was getting as she was now practically dripping down my legs I moved one hand away from her breasts to mercilously rub on her clit making her grab my hair pulling me to kiss her neck "come on beautiful, cum for me" I smirked in her ear and that very second she screamed like banshee, I kept rubbing and kept bouncing her letting her ride it out even if I knew I and my bed were now soaked from her squirt I knew I was so close so I threw her back down and continued pounding fast and hard for a few more seconds before I felt that pleasure wave hit me and I instantly pulled out and came all over her back and butt before collapsing on my side of the bed in my back gasping for breath still getting over my orgasum. "Fuck I love you y/n"

"I love you too paul" she smiled gasping too as she just laid there on her stomach

"Now, I need to get pants on john will be here in like ten minutes" I laughed getting up slowly "you should also put clothes on" I told her as I got some boxes on and my jeans getting a clean undershirt

"Meh... John will understand that you fucked your girlfriend too good for her to move" she giggled

"Did I now?" I smirked going over and slipping two fingers inside her finger fucking her hard rubbing in her clit making her sqeaul kicking her feet

"Nooooo leave me alone, evil boy!" She whines kicking my hand away "I'll put clothes on" she sighed climbing out of bed "meanie" she whines bending over naked at her suitcase looking for clothes waving her butt at me and sticking her tongue out I put my shirt on going over and slapping her butt making her jump up into my arms

"Dirty tongue" I smirked

"It's not dirty" she whines

"Yes it is. I know where it's been beautiful" I smirked giving her a kiss "you get dressed, I'll tidy up. I'll make another tea when John gets here" I told her taking the cups and going out to the little flat setting the cups on the kitchen side by the burner, generally tidying the house up as y/n for dressed in the bedroom I saw her perched on the bed using my mirror to do her hair and make up just as I heard the door so I went and let John in "morning" I said giving him a faint smile fixing my hair as I did

"Morning" he laughs putting his guitar case on the side by the chair

"Tea?"

"Yeah go on then" he says so I went to the kitchen filling up the kettle and making the cups up he came and stood on the other side of the little counters that seperated the living room and kitchen looking at the cups and he smirked "hi y/n" he called to the bedroom

"Hi John, out inna minute" she called back

"I had a feeling she was here"

"How so?" I asked waiting for the kettle to boil

"She's always here" he laughs

"True."

"That and you need an air freshener"

"What why?" I asked rather confused

"Because paul it fucking stinks if sex in this flat"

"What does sex smell like?"

"Like jizz, sweat and squirt usually" he laughs

"That's not the flat, that's just paul" y/n smiled coming around the corner in her little black dress her hair done and makeup prestige "he didn't shower this morning"

"Hey!"

"It's true" she shurgs

"Nope it's the flat, or you two. Or both" john laughed as I made the tea up "you two have sex this morning then?"

"Yep" she giggled

"How could you tell? The house smell?" I asked

"that and I was here earlier, I waited outside having a cig and I could hear you two screaming"

"You know a weird amount about our sex lives" I told him sipping my tea

"I imagine so do you twos neighbors seriously... I can hear you from down the street" he laughs

"We just like being loud and passionate don't we paul" she giggled cuddling me

"How can I be quiet with my beautiful girl doing such dirty things to me" I smirked kissing her

"It's fine... Just rub in even more that I'm single" john sighed

"Sorry" she giggled

"It's fine, you two are adorable" he sighed.

[bamfdaddio]

Giant-Size X-Men Abridged: 1975

The X-Men, those all-new, all-different mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. Want to unravel this tapestry? Then read the Abridged X-Men!

(Giant-Size X-Men #1) - by Len Wein and Dave Cockrum.

“Okay, Dave, we want the new guys to look infinitely cooler than the old guys. Especially Beast. Fuck Beast.”

“Say no more.”

If you were Charles Xavier and you accidentally misplaced your team of misfit mutants (except for Beast, who has graduated to Avengerdom and isn’t even in this book), would you:

Call in a favor with the Avengers or the Fantastic Four to help you out?

Call your ex and ask him and his magnetic powers to come to your rescue?

Cut your losses and move on?

Travel the world to replace your boring wonderbread team with a bunch of spicier, kickassier mutants and forever rock the world?

The answer is obviously D. I am hyperventilating. At the end of this, I have to pick the best new character and I cannot. CANNOT.

See, we have so many options!

Option 1: A creepy adorable blue fuzzball who is hunted and persecuted for the way he looks. He also nearly gets straight up staked by an angry European mob, showing that this new iteration of the X-Men is a few shades darker than the last one. (I also feel that angry mobs happen a lot less in Europe than Marvel think they do, but hey.)

Kurt, baby? You know you can teleport yourself out of becoming a human shishkebab, right?

Option 2: A woman who is too good for you. And for me. For anyone, tbh. She can control the weather and step on me. She starts out as a goddess and it’s the accuratest.

Ororo Munroe is my religion.

Option 3: A Russian tin can man with a sweet, sweet heart. Soft boi in a hard shell.

Also featured as a very early cameo: llyana Rasputin in dashing Soviet fashion.

Option 4: An angry Canadian who has authority issues and claws.

Did you know? Wolverine was originally envisioned as an actual wolverine who was turned into a human being. I think we can all agree that this was the better option.

Option 5: An angry Native American who has authority issues and a very uninspiring power set. (Look, if your ‘super powers’ can feasibly be achieved by plenty of cardio and bringing along a well-trained labradoodle, I’m just not here for it.)

John Proudstar does tell Xavier to go suck a cactus. Ten points to Gryffindor!

This cast is rounded out by some returning faces:

An angry Japanese guy who has authority issues and fire powers.

An Irish ex-thief/also ex-cop with sonic powers.

Why is this group instantly more interesting than the OG5? Well, instead of five vaguely generic teenagers coming from sort of similar backgrounds (upstate New York, wealthy, white), we have a couple of older characters coming with wildly varying histories. Some of them even provide a proper through line for the ways mutants fit into society: Nightcrawler is hated and feared, Storm is revered, Wolverine has been recruited by the government and Colossus lives among humans, presumably hiding his powers.

But why has Charles X gathered all these mutants? Because the X-Men have vanished on this mysterious tropical island! All except for an amnesia-riddled Cyclops, who returned to the mansion to go get help! Even though he’s not sure how he escaped, exactly.

The new X-Men travel off, and in between their introductions and embarking on the plane, Sunfire threatens to leave the team about three times.

Sunfire, my man, you could've just stayed in Japan.

Important to note is that none of these mutants mesh well yet and, when they approach the island, Cyclops decides to pull a Fred and he splits up the team - precisely among the fault lines. Interestingly, none of these duos really get along: Sunfire, Wolverine and Thunderbird all have grumpy loner personalities, meaning they don’t play well with others. Sunfire manages to aggravate Kurt, who is possibly the easiest to get along with out of them all, and Wolverine, hilariously, has a really hard time with Bashee’s sonic shouting when Sean flies him down. But even Colossus and Storm, who will later end up one of the more powerful X-friendships, are unfamiliar, ill at ease in each other’s presence.

Anyway, odd shit keeps happening. The Blackbird Strato-Jet vanishes. Cyclops and Thunderbird deal with some stringly-strangly vines; Wolverine and Banshee fight with a giant crab, Colossus and Storm are threatened by a living avalanche and Sunfire and Nightcrawler get swarmed by ferocious birds. After these various altercations, each duo notices this huge temple (which wasn’t there before), almost as if some unseen force is leading them towards it.

At the temple, the new team reunites and there, they find the lost X-Men! And Angel promptly berates them for falling into this trap, because…

Who's been messing up everything? It was Krakoa all along!

Krakoa is a mutant island that feeds off of mutant energies and it released Cyclops because it thought it would bring back more mutant snacks. (Which evidently worked, seeing how Scott brought back Kurt and Piotr.)

The X-Men release the X-Men and together, they band together in awesome (and sometimes confusing) artwork to fight Krakoa.

Look, Angel's doing his best, okay?

In the end, mostly thanks to powerhouse Lorna, they launch the island INTO SPACE. And in the aftermath, Warren asks an important question:

Split into two teams/books and become instantly iconic? No? Not for another twenty years?

Best new character: Don’t make me do this.

Fine.

Okay. So, I don´t think I can judge these characters without taking into account what will happen to them in the future, so I won´t even try. While I love Wolverine and Colossus, two of my ever-favorites are Storm and Nightcrawler. Nightcrawler, because he represents the best of humanity: even though it would be so easy for him to hate mankind because of their prejudice and their hatred, he always chooses kindness, faith and optimism. Storm, because she is a queen and will become one of the most complex and well-written comic book superheroes: a goddess, a thief, a leader and one of the best female power fantasies ever.

I choose her. I always choose her.

Ugliest costume: None. I do want to note just how well the costumes are designed here: Storm’s tiara-and-cloak outfit is still iconic and Nightcrawler’s and Colossus’ looks are so good that they are still being used, decades later. Hats off to Cockrum.

What to read: This. It’s just good. The new team is leagues better than the old one and the twist that the villain is Krakoa holds up. Sure, it’s all still a little wordy and nobody ever bothers explaining what’s up with Sunfire wanting to leave every second, but it’s an excellent reboot and a milestone issue.

[theunmappedstar]

Ummm Keefe being a good dad headcannons...I’m not suggesting that you do them one day...but I also might be

Despite him really REALLY wanting a little baby of his own, Keefe always had the fear that if he became a dad someday somehow, he’d subconsciously turn into Cassius. But everyone can agree that the second Keefe became a father, he was on the right track

Literally the moment Keefe got them home he gifted them with a little stuffed animal. He spent weeks prior trying to pick it out for them, wanting to get JUST the right one.

It’s a little fluffy banshee.

Well. . . it’s little to Keefe, I mean.

Since the baby is so (obviously) small, trying to hold onto the plushie is basically the equivalent of them cuddling another infant.

They love it nonetheless.

And because it was with them from the start they remain attached to it as they grow up. Will not let go of it. Need to have it everywhere and anywhere that they travel.

Keefe thinks it’s the most precious thing

Also, Keefe will play with stuffed animals with his kid. They’ll sit down on the floor and move the stuffed animals and make them talk and stuff

We all agree Keefe can be really reckless sometimes, but when it comes to his kid, he’s obsessively prepared. This man can and will baby proof everything.

Also, he has to test out every little toy to make sure it’s safe or entertaining enough before he gives it to his kid.

Literally, he’ll shake every rattle JUST to make sure.

Since Keefe wants to be the best parent he possibly can, he asks all the moms in his life for advice because he trusts their judgment more than any father figure’s.

He asks Fitz, too.

“Why are you asking me?? I don’t have a kid??”

“Because yoU’RE RESPONSIBLE.”

Keefe is obsessed with those little boots for his infant’s feet. He loves how tiny they are and how many patterns the booties can come in and how ADORABLE they look when he slides them over his kid’s feet

Keefe has customized some booties for his kid. (It’s kind of like how people paint their vans; Keefe paints a little pair of calla lily boots)

Keefe Sencen is a sucker for cradling and holding his baby to his chest - and they definitely don’t mind it, either. Keefe enjoys it so much that he purchases one of those infant swaddle things so he can have the kid laying on his torso even when walking around. And you bet your ass he updates to a baby carrier the moment the kid is big enough and can support their own neck.

Keefe shows off his kid to his friends any chance he gets - even though they see the kid ALL THE TIME. (Don’t get the gang wrong, though, they enjoy it).

“Have you guys seen my baby?”

“Guys seriously look at my kid. That’s my kid.”

“Look at this little fucking potato! Look how ADORABLE this tiny bean is!”

“Keefe, the kid can understand you.”

“Right, shit, bad words. Sorry, don’t listen to dad.”

Keefe has a journal where he draws a picture of his kid every day. He says he’ll keep going with it until they’re old enough to tell him to stop

Keefe and his kid have a special nap time after school. They’ll cuddle up in this specific armchair in the living room and the kid will fall asleep on Keefe's chest. Keefe conks out not long after. (Kid loves it. Makes it a point to hold Keefe accountable if he ever has to skip naptime for work or something).

Keefe loves talking with his baby (and reading books). He could sit there with them for hours all cuddled up on the living room floor with a blanket just... speaking.

Keefe does the fun little leg bounce activity with his kid...you know the one.

Keefe teaches his kid to paint when they’re old enough. He takes them into the little art room he has, sets up an easel, gets them all tucked into a painting shirt and gives them a few paintbrushes.

And Keefe lets them go ham on that thing.

Keefe encourages them to use their fingers for painting, too

And sponges.

And palette knives (plastic, of course).

Keefe is very positive and motivating - and naturally super helpful. Sometimes his kid gets a little frustrated because their art won’t turn out the way they want it, so Keefe offers to help them out. (Kid always loves it when their dad paints with them and they end up making something together).

Keefe has a pottery wheel, too. He doesn’t sculpt very often, but when he does, his kid thinks it’s fascinating. They’ll sit there for however long it takes just to make sure they see the finished product.

It makes Keefe smile. A lot.

Keefe didn’t intend to let them near the pottery wheel until they were much older, but he relents one day and asks them to come over and sit on his lap.

They climb up and Keefe helps make sure they’re all settled. At first, it’s a little awkward with Keefe reaching around them to begin to mold the clay, but halfway through they find a good way to get situated so that it goes smoother. Eventually, Keefe stops the wheel and asks them to stick their hands out and make sure they’re parallel to each other. Keefe cups his palms around his kid's hands and starts the wheel and helps guide them to sculpt the clay with their hands.

They’re so bubbly and awe-struck by it that Keefe just... smiles really gently and kisses the top of their head.

(Also clay gets everywhere, but Keefe doesn’t mind).

Unrelated, but he also loves to paint their nails anytime they want. And of course, he’s really good at painting little designs, too (especially flowers! This is canon, btw - just think of the beaded necklace he gave to Sophie).

We know that Keefe uses tons of nicknames for his kid. Think “little bit” and “muffin” and “bean” and “peanut” - the list goes on and on (because he’s dorky like that.)

Keefe does that thing where he records his kid’s height on a wall. Every birthday he makes them stand up against the wall and then he draws a line where the tip of their head stops. He’s a real sap for reminiscing

“Look how tiny you were, bean!”

This child? Pretty spoiled. Sometimes Keefe worries he spoils them too much, so he has to back off to make sure they don’t turn into a bratty kid, y’know? Yet, he just. . . he cannot get over the sight of his kid’s face lighting up. And then when they hug him, Keefe gets a rush of all their love, which makes him just. . . . melt.

Going off from Keefe loving the feel of their happiness, Keefe really likes the little things - like tickle fights. It’s a free chance to get to see them giggle and bubble up with glee. 

This man is a sucker for the little things. He knows that his kid is supposed to call him dad because, well, he is their father... Yet somehow he cannot get over it anytime they call him dad. He cannot get over that he gets to be the kid’s father, that he gets to raise and love and protect them, that he gets to hold them in his arms and teach them things about the world and laugh with them and... Ugh, he’s never gonna get over it.

One day, Keefe's kid comes up to him and says that Sophie taught them something.

Keefe's intrigued, of course. He asks them to go on.

They lift up their hand and make a gesture and, at the start, Keefe thinks he understands.

“Oh, yeah, that means ‘rock on’, bud.”

Keefe tries to mimic it by raising his pinky and index finger on one hand, too. But then he notices his kid also has their thumb raised.

Keefe lifts and brow and opens his mouth to gently correct them when they purse their lips and shake their little head

“No, she told me this means ‘I love you’ in sign language.”

Keefe’s pretty sure he dies on the spot.

Like, come on. They got so excited and wanted to show him that?? He’s stuck gushing about it for quite a while (honestly, how lucky did he have to be to get to deserve a kid like that? he’ll never understand).

It becomes a thing for the two to flash it at one another throughout the day. If Keefe's watching them on the playground and they’re too far away to hear each other, they’ll lift up their hands in the little signal. If Keefe's on his imparter and they wander into the room, they’ll flick their fingers up into the gesture. While they’re eating dinner and their mouths are full they’ll lift their hand to show a brief ‘I love you’.

Keefe never gets tired of seeing it.

And he never gets tired of returning it, either.

bored? send me an ask!

[tomsrebeleyebrow]

hi! i just wanted to say that i love ur writing! and quite a fan! can i request the reader asking peter to take care of her pet turtle bc she’s going out of town to visit some family? and peter hesitates bc of his spider-man duties but soon just falls in love the readers pet turtle and doesn’t wanna give him back. “peter, give him back” “no🥺”

A/N: okay. wait. CUTENESS LEVEL EXTREM! ABOART! ABOART I SAID!! 😱😱😱 alright jokes aside, this is the most adorable request i’ve ever had and it got me soft af 🥺💞🥺💞 so thank you so much for this but also for your kind support, my dear 😳❤️ stay safe, darling 💖💗

‘Stay safe, Cheer up’ blurb event

Peter was confused. And when Peter Parker was confused, you knew something was really going on in his head of his.

The boy was currently sitting on the couch in the living room, the apartment completely silent. His elbows resting on his knees, upper body slightly leaning forward, Peter’s eyes were glued on the rectangle terrarium on the coffee table right in front of him, not saying a single word. Just looking straight at it. Thinking.

Peter let a long sigh out.

“On all domestic animals possible, (Y/N) chose you.”

Silence.

“I’ll be honest, alright: I’ve seen more active and entertaining pets than you.”

Silence.

“... Why am I even talking to you, in the first place?”

The little animal stopped its “wild” parkour inside the glass terrarium to, somehow, look at Peter. Their eyes locked for a few seconds before the teenage boy exhaled once again, the muscles in his neck relaxing to let his head fall forward.

Yesterday evening, you hurriedly stumbled over yours and Peter’s shared apartment after your classes, your boyfriend already immersed in his homework, because your brother-in-law sent you a text explaining your sister went into labour. Frantically, you tried to gather some clothes and random toiletries’ essential in a travelling bag to leave right away and hopping to arrive in your hometown a few hours later that same night by car. While doing so, Peter couldn’t really place a word as he knew how much your older sister was so dear to you, also because you being an aunt got you all excited and so stressed at the same time. And right before you left, Peter kissing you goodbye by your car and telling you to drive safely, you remembered something at the last minute.

“Ah! Pete, please, don’t forget to take care of Dollie while I’m away!!”

Dollie. Your tiny tortoise. Your pet with who Peter was currently “having a chat” with.

Thanks the lords, Peter was relieved to have an organised girlfriend because you created a little list of things to do or not with Dollie on a daily basis, right after you bought her. At least, the boy kind of knew what he was supposed to do (or not) with that strange pet of yours.

It was not like Peter disliked Dollie. Well, he didn’t really like her either, as he was completely unaware that having a tortoise as a pet was even possible until the day you came back home with the said animal. You told Peter you grew up while having animals around since your youngest age, but still... a tortoise. And what about his Spider-Man’s duties? Even if recently, the neighbourhood was rather quiet and calm, Peter needed to do his regular patrols just in case.

Anyway, Peter didn’t really have a choice. He had to take care of Dollie, for you. Seems like Spider-Man will take a break.

“Okay, time for you to get some exercise done.”

Delicately - but still awkwardly, Peter took the tiny reptile in his hands to put it back on the ground, next to his feet.

“Come on, go explore the world that is the living room, I guess?”

As if understanding his words, Dollie started to move around at her own pace which was not the fastest of all. Peter kept an eye on her as he decided to watch some tv to get some better distraction.

Some time later, Peter felt something bumped on the side of his foot. And as he lifted his back from the couch to see what that was, he couldn’t help a light smile making its way at the corner of his mouth as Dollie just started bumping her tiny pointed head on Peter’s foot.

“What’s going on, there?” chuckled the teenage boy.

His eyes went to his left wrist where he read the hour on his digital watch.

“Damn, already past seven!? You must be hungry, right missy?” asked Peter while slowly standing, fists resting on his hips. “To the kitchen we go!”

* * * *

What a weird feeling it was to be an aunt for the first time. But still exciting and critically emotional in the best way possible.

After spending three days at your sister’s to finally meet the new addition to the family, your visit ended as fast as it started due to your exams approaching. But you still promised your sister to come visit again for your next holiday, probably with Peter this time.

Finally back, you locked your car and got up to yours and Peter’s apartment, climbing two stairs at the time as you still missed your boyfriend and was excited to show him all the pictures you took of your newborn niece.

Unlocking the door of the flat, your eyes instantly fell onto Peter’s brunette hair as he was sitting on the couch.

“Peter! I’m back!”

“Welcome back, dear! We’re here!” replied Peter, cheerfully.

You left your travel bag in the entrance to tidy later and walked towards the living room where your boyfriend was. When you arrived behind the couch to kiss him upside down, you noticed a tiny guest sitting on top of his thighs.

“Oh, hi Dollie! What is she doing here?”

“I was feeding her some apple before you arrived” said Peter, his attention going back to the little reptile.

You watched the two beings interact together for some seconds, not saying a word, but mostly surprised at Peter’s unexpected behaviour towards your tortoise.

“Looks like you became good friends in the end” you giggle, lightly bumping your head with Peter’s, still looking at Dollie enjoying her apple slice. “Come say hi to mama, Dollie doll!”

As you were about to take Dollie in your hands, Peter moved the tortoise away from your grasp. Surprised, you glanced at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows.

“First, let her slowly finish her apple or she’ll get awful later” noted Peter, quite seriously.

“Excuse me? Let me-”

“Nope.”

“Peter, what in the world-”

“Later, I said.”

“Peter Benjamin Parker, give me back MY tortoise now!”

“Nope.”

Later that same evening, you understood that your nerdy boyfriend definitely grew attached to that tiny reptile he used to avoid at the beginning.

The day ended with you and Peter laying on your bed, with snacks and fluffy covers, catching up with a series with little Dollie resting on top on you guys, resting after another eventful day of her tortoise’s life.

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[mcfreakin-bxtch]

Could you make a Diego Hargreeves x reader where she is number 3 and her power is like a banshee? Where she is part of the Sparrow Academy. When she meets Diego she falls for him and him for her, but he is still thinks about Lila so he’s kinda weary of starting something with the reader

I took a little inspiration from Teen Wolf’s Lydia’s banshee powers because I MISS HER

Also this is unedited so I apologize for any mistakes.

***

You had no idea that your life was going to get a lot more interesting until Diego Hargreeves and the rest of the Umbrella Academy showed up at your home—their home, too, in another timeline. 

Out of all of them, Klaus and Vanya were deemed the kindest to you at first. After some time, Allison joined in with her wide smile, and Five and Luther would continue to give you the side looks every now and then, making sure you didn’t scream them to death—being a banshee put them all at edge, never have dealt with such a folklore power before.

And then there was Diego.

He was just as timid towards you and your family, of course. It’s been at least a week now since they’ve came, and the most he’s said to you is, 

“Try anything and I’ll end you.” 

He said this in what you assumed was his best impression of a ‘macho man’. 

“Please,” you snorted, crossing your arms over your chest in annoyance. “Don’t give me a reason to.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise and looked you over once more before nodding and brushing past you; he smelled wonderful, as much as you hated to admit it.

He didn’t talk to you for a while after that, not that you expected him to. So it definitely catches you off guard when he approaches you with broad steps just as you’re about to walk out the door of the mansion. 

“Where’re you heading?” He asks—it sounds almost nervous to you, but you don’t say anything on it. 

“Um...” You shift on your feet, suddenly nervous yourself now and you don’t even know why. “Um I’m going to Griddy’s Doughnuts.”

He nods. “I used to go there too sometimes. Wouldn’t mind checking the place out again, if y-you don’t mind.”

Your heart skipped a beat and your eyes start to widen. “Y-yeah, of course.”

He gives you a small smile and indicated with a tilt of his head for you to proceed. You shake your head and laugh breathlessly, not believing this is actually happening. 

“So, and I hope you don’t mind me asking,” you clear your throat. “but how did you actually get here?”

Diego chuckles, and you find it to be a nice sound. 

“Kinda a long story.” He shrugs absentmindedly. 

“We got time,” you offer with a smile. 

The corner of his lips twitch. “You’re in for a ride, then.”

The rest of the short walk there is filled with questions upon questions and more insight of The Umbrella Academy. And when you walk inside the diner and order the usual for yourself, while Diego just orders a coffee, you start to feel really giddy inside. 

“And what was her name again?” You ask as you sit down in your favorite booth, Diego sitting right across from you. “That girl that you met at the hospital, the one with that’s like us.”

His face immediately falls, just like it did when he very briefly described his time at the hospital when he was stuck in Dallas. 

“You don’t have to tell me if it’s making you uncomfortable or anything,” you backtrack. 

His eyes meet back at yours, like you had just woken him up out of a daze. He shakes his head and—to your surprise—gives you a tight lipped smile before leaning more towards you; almost like someone telling their friend a secret. 

“No it’s o-o—” he stops and takes a deep breath with his eyes shut quickly tight before they reopen. “—it’s okay. Her name was Lila and we uh... we were sorta together b-before she took off.”

Ah. It makes sense now. 

You’re not upset, not by any means. You mean yeah, he’s incredibly handsome and actually really kind and funny once he opens up, and you like that he kept the medium locks along with the beard because, well, it looks sexy on him; and you know now that underneath all the hard exterior, there’s actually a kindred soul. 

But there was no reason to feel a sting to your chest. 

“I’m sorry,” you find yourself whispering. 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he takes a sip of his drink. Then quirks his eyebrow. “Did I tell you that Luther and I harassed an old lady on accident because we don’t know Swedish?”

Your cheeks puff out in a laugh, not expecting him to say that; you realize that he’s changing the subject, but you don’t mind one bit. 

What makes it better, too, is that your laugh brings a warm smile to his face and his dark eyes start to lighten up. 

***

Your friendship with Diego has grown since then. 

It took him a while until he started to feel more comfortable sharing stories with you, or asking you to join him in more outings—Griddy’s, random food places that are miraculously in the middle of the night (morning), more late night talks in the confines of your sound proof room or hey, maybe a little bit of crime fighting here and there; like your own versions of Batman and Robin. 

And now the only problem, really, is that you’re pretty positive that you’ve fallen for him. Hard. 

When he walks into a room, your stomach erupts in butterflies, and they become even more rowdy when he spots you and smiles. Every day, you look forward to seeing him and him only, and when he starts talking quietly about his life or about that new knife you got him, your heart feels like it’s about to burst through your chest. 

It’s like a breath of fresh air when you’re with him, knowing that you can give him pieces of yourself without judgement. By now, he knows your favorite order at Griddy’s, knows what kind of music you like to listen to—always picking them out in playlists when you’re driving around in your car, no destination in mind, or when you have a bad day—he knows how you like to sleep and what comforts you when the voices in your head starts to become overwhelming. 

But there’s still Lila. 

She’s here, even when she’s physically not, in the way he sometimes talks about her, or when something reminds him of her. It hurts, especially when he sees something in you that makes him crawl back into his shell. 

And Diego (you see the way his eyes trail over you when he thinks no one is looking, and the way his eyes sparkle when he’s talking to you, or when he starts to feel low, the first person he comes to is you) is understandably hesitant when something does feel like it’s going to happen. 

“No way,” you laughed, clutching your stomach. “He really said that?”

“Yup,” Diego chuckled. “Never seen Luther’s face get so red like that before in my life, should’ve been there to see it.”

You sighed, lying back on your pillows, Diego resting his head on your thigh with his legs crossed and feet hanging lowly over your bed. You crossed your arms over your stomach and wiggled, trying to get comfortable. 

“Stop moving,” he grumbled. When you looked down, his eyes were closed. 

You smiled at the peaceful expression, at the crease lines that were relaxed and his chest moving up and down in deep breaths.You felt that pang in your chest again, the same one when he smiles at you, and your hand twitched in a sudden urge to run your fingers through his hair. 

“Stop staring,” he grumbled louder. 

You chuckled. “Falling asleep on me there?” Literally. 

His face scrunched up adorably. “Just resting my eyes.”

“Oh,” you raised your eyebrows and grinned. 

He kept his eyes shut and if anything settled deeper into the mattress, resting his hands over his stomach. After a few more minutes of silence, you finally decided you were going to do the same and just take a nap. 

And you would’ve if you wouldn’t have felt something gnawing at you within the first moments of closing your eyes. 

Your heart stopped, as did your breathing, and every good and bad thing that can come from you opening your eyes flooded through you. 

What’s going to happen after?

After deciding to throw all caution to the wind, you cracked one eye opened with baited breath. 

You didn’t know what to expect, honestly. 

His eyes immediately met yours as they opened slowly, an expression so sincere and quizzical and something else, something that gave you hope. The hand that was once on his stomach settled by your thigh, right where your right hand was resting, the barely there contact already scorching through your core. 

He abruptly sat up, startling you as you watched with wide eyes, feeling your stomach turn in knots when he ran his hand through his locks and could barely look back at you. 

“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” he stammered. 

Before you could assure him that he did nothing wrong and that it was okay, the door shut and you were left in an empty room, tears stinging in the back of your throat. 

That incident happened a few days ago, and ever since then Diego has barely made an effort to talk to you or even look at you. 

Yeah, it makes you feel a little dejected and pissed off that he didn’t just come talk to you about it, but it’s like you said before, you understand why he’s holding you at arms length. 

Plus, you don’t even know if he does like you in that way, but you can’t deny the awkwardness and tension that hangs over the two of you when he starts to remember. 

So that’s why, when you see him walking around a corner of the house, you pounce on him. 

“Look,” you say as he opens his mouth, a hint of annoyance laced in his features. “I understand that you’re still not over Lila, and... and I don’t know about you, but I do have... feelings for you, but I don’t want you thinking that you have to force or pressure yourself or distance yourself because of it.” He doesn’t say anything, instead opts to watching you intently like he’s mapping your soul out, trying to detect any traces of a lie. “If you don’t feel the same way, then that’s fine, I would still love to be friends I just—” 

You’re trying to figure out on what else to say, anything that can make this easier for him, when you feel rough, calloused hands on your hands, bringing them in between the little space between you. 

You look up and it’s like he’s hung the moon above you, and his eyes are shimmering with unshed tears that you want to wipe and kiss away.   

He says your name, so softly that it melts your heart. “I... thank you.”

You can only nod; your throat feels like it’s tightening under the weight of your emotions. 

He sighs and steps closer to you so that the tip of your nose just touches his chest. “It hasn’t b-been easy,” he continues quietly. “And it was wrong of me to ignore you like that. I should’ve talked to you when I started to realize that I was f-falling for you, too.” You stomach erupts with those butterflies, and a smile so wide that it aches spreads across your cheek. 

“Really?” You give his hands a gentle squeeze. 

“Yeah,” he nods, taking a deep breath. “I just need some time.”

“I understand,” you tell him sincerely. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”

That wide, goofy smile that you’ve grown to love so fucking much graces you in a new light. “How about I take you to that ice cream shop we passed last time. As a way to apologize and—and m-maybe as a first date?”

You want to pinch yourself just to make sure that this is real, but you know that it has to be, because he feels so warm and there’s no way you can conjure up something so beautiful and precious in front of you; you know, that no matter the struggles you’ll have to endure, it’ll be worth it. 

“I’d love that.”

Tags: @justlovetoreadfics​, @lil-baby27​, @mando-vibes​, @beepbeepyabitch, @that-void-witch​, @im-the-music-whore​, @certifiedhunter​, @softpedropascal, @domino-oh-damn​, @okaydacre​, @lemongrove​, @olyamoriarty, @pcrushinnerd​, @elusive-ivory​, @dizzydazed​, @bluejeancntrygrl​, @dadzawas-eyebags, @parody-the-emi, @evalynanne, @purplewaterbird, @vikingqueen28, @tedpicklez, @blunt-cake-yes, @agoldin, @lustriix, @readsalot73, @kateb013, @eupphoriaaa, @imalovernotahater, @everything-lost-and-unsaid, @dlmafa1, @hoodedbirdie, @drunkenliterary, @fioccodineveautunnale​, @fangirlfree, @mrsparknuts, @amarvelousmandalorian, @ironheart-hanako, @sando-rann, @imalovernotahater, @meganoid1997, @adikaofmandalore, @cahooter, @charliepeaceout, @dreamgirl-67, @phoenixhalliwell, @acrylics-and-sunshine, @sunkissed-winter, @tortles

[manggaeteokki]

Secret Garden || intro

summary: for years and years, your mother whispered to you stories of the mythical secret garden, and for years, you thought they were just that: stories. but what happens when one day you stumble upon a place beyond your wildest imagination and not a clue how you got there?

come in and discover the legends of the Secret Garden.

pairing: ___ x reader, BTS x reader 

genre: fluff, romance, fantasy, alternate universe! au, smut (possibly?? *eyebrow wiggle*)

words: 1.7K

a/n: this is my first series and i’m super excited! this series will have a story in the garden for each member. please read the intro before delving into the stories!!! the intro sets up the stories, so its important to read, cuties. choose one to read or choose them all. either way, can’t wait to see you in the Garden!  (send an ask to be added to the taglist!!) 

“Do you ever think there could be other worlds besides ours?” your friend, Aila, asks while shoving a fistful of buttery popcorn in her mouth. 

It was Movie Night in your shared apartment, and your friend and roommate, Aila’s, brilliant suggestion of Prometheus was gracing your T.V. screen. She loved movies about otherworldly creatures coming to Earth and especially loved when an invasion was involved. You often questioned her movie taste, and she would explain that she likes the idea of Earth “not being the only planet with viable and intelligent beings.” It sounded insane, but in some ways it made sense, you rationalized. 

You shifted on the comfy couch to look towards her. While you didn’t necessarily refute the point, you couldn’t be sure that you could answer such a question or even know where to begin with an explanation. 

“When I was younger,” you started, “my mom used to always tell me stories of this other world that had a garden.” 

“Sounds fucking boring,” she retorted. You hit her shoulder and she winced in fake pain. 

“Shut up. Like I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted, she would tell me stories of this place. The way she talked about the garden… it made it seem like it was real,” you smiled remembering. “She said that every flower in existence bloomed there, and that as soon as you entered, a wave of calmness immediately washed over your body. ‘A pure form of serenity,’ she said.” 

“No offense but it sounds like that time I got high at the Botanical Gardens with Nico last summer,” she laughed and you shortly followed suit. 

“Yeah, but she also talked about these beings that lived there. I think she said there were seven of them. She said that they looked like humans, but on a closer look, their beauty was too ethereal to be so,” you babbled. 

Aila’s face contorted into confusion and wonder as you recalled the stories your mother told you at bedtime each night. The movie long forgotten, Aila inquired more and more about your beloved stories until the music signaling the end credits began to play. Aila stood up and began clearing the popcorn strays from the couch while you walked over to turn on the lights in the living room. 

Your roommate let out a yawn paired with a sound that could easily be compared to a banshee, and let you know that she would be heading to sleep as she had work early in the morning. You nodded your head in acknowledgement and let her know that you would be staying a while in the living to catch up on a show you had been binge-watching that week. Her door to her room closed and you landed on your couch with a fwump! 

“Finally I get to watch this damn show!” you exclaimed, reaching for the bucket of popcorn Aila left out for you. The intro to Elite started rolling, and you snuggled deeper into the worn-in couch. You let out a sigh of relaxation, allowing yourself to get immersed in the show. 

Two episodes and about 3 hours later (you used one of the hours to mindlessly scroll through your social media), you decided, albeit belatedly, that you should head to bed due to work being in seven hours. Working in research wasn’t as taxing as you thought, but it still required you to be awake and not slobbering on a keyboard for eight hours, as great as it sounded. 

You started to head toward your own room when you heard a thump against one of the doors in the small hallway where the doors leading to the bedrooms existed. You decided that you were more tired than you felt and thought the result was auditory hallucinations; however, as you got closer to the middle door between you and Aila’s bedroom, you heard it once again and this time louder. 

“Aila, what the hell are you doing in there?” you called out but there was no response. 

When you and Aila first toured the apartment, the middle door did not go unnoticed. When asked about the door and why it was locked, the landlord simply said that he bought it that way and never received a key. Many jokes were made in terms of what lie beyond the door; moreso by Aila and her extraterrestrial fantasies than you, but they induced plenty of laughs nonetheless. 

The thumping occurred from the middle door again, and fear slowly crept into your veins making your body feel a rush of coolness in the process. You knew not to try to open the door, not that it was even possible, but you also knew that you wouldn’t be able to sleep with that incessant noise. You started banging on Aila’s door. 

“Aila, girl, I KNOW you hear that noise. Hurry up and come out! I’m scared,” you whined, but she still didn’t reply. You knew Aila was a heavy sleeper, but damn was she sleeping deep if she couldn’t hear you. 

You twisted the knob to her door and ran in expecting to see a lump on plump blankets in a human silhouette. Instead, you found her bed completely made, no human in sight. There was no way that Aila could have gone out the window, you guys were on the tenth floor. Things weren’t adding up, and you were on the verge of tears. 

A morbid curiosity suffused throughout your being as you slowly began walking towards the middle door. The thumping got louder with each step you took, and at some point, you couldn’t distinguish between the pounding of your heart in your eardrums and the perpetual beat against the mahogany entrance. You reached the door, and your hand encased the golden knob. You noted that it felt warm for a door that had supposedly not been used for a lengthy amount of time. With a twist of the knob, you were shocked to hear a click indicated the outdated door had been unlocked. You stood there for what seemed like forever, an array of questions racing through your mind. You finally gathered what little courage you had left and swung the door open. 

It was a bittersweet feeling when you listened to your mom. All those times when you wished you were spirited away from your life only to continue the mundane quickly taught you that stories were just stories. Myths were myths. Lies were lies. And gardens of every flower didn’t exist but in fairytales. 

So why, beyond a mysterious door in a crappy apartment, are the most beautiful meadows of flowers swaying in the wind, dancing a dance of entrancement, almost as if they were personally inviting you inside? Your eyes glassed over as you tried to process the view. It was as if your eyes were stuck in their place. 

You were frozen. 

It wasn’t until you heard the door shut behind you that realized you had moved inside. Your eyes whipped back, but you found yourself staring at acres and acres of flowers, not a door in sight. 

“Is there a reason you’re standing there like an idiot?” you heard a voice say. 

When you turned around, your eyes met your best friend and roommate. She donned a sheer ivory dress with golden acacias adorning her bodice and train. The silk threads shone in the sun almost as if the dress had been sewn by the heavens themselves. Her skin was as smooth as glass and possessed a beautiful brown pigment with a hint of olive. Champagne glitter bedecked the areas around her eyes, and her hair was tied up in a braid full of a different selection of flowers. Her eyebrow was raised and her arms were across her chest. You could hear her foot tapping against the ground in irritation. 

“Aila?” you whispered. 

“Who?” she practically yelled, “That is not my name, nor has it ever been.” 

You blushed, “then who are you?”

“Who am I?” she scoffed, “More like who are you? You’re the one who stood in the middle of the meadow as if you were waiting for someone to check you into a hotel.” 

Her tone was pissing you off, and if you had felt more comfortable in this situation, you would have told her exactly where she could have put it. Instead, you were too busy trying to figure out whether or not Aila put something in her popcorn. 

“I’m Y/N, and I don’t even know where I am or how I even got here,” you choked. 

The girl gave you a look then closed her eyes and sighed. She turned on her heel and began walking in the opposite direction without saying another word. Your eyebrows furrowed and your temper threatened to lose itself, but when she found that your footsteps were nowhere to be heard, she stopped in her tracks. 

“Are you coming or what?” she bleated. You nodded slightly and began walking quickly to catch up with her. 

You walked beside her for what seemed like forever, not sharing one word between each other, so you decided to take in your surroundings. 

You could see the flowers, yes, but you also saw little creatures you had never seen before participating in different tasks. Some were watering sections of plants, some were flitting and flying, sprinkling an unknown substance from the air that shone like diamonds, and some were simply laying down and napping in the sun. You walked further and found little manmade living spaces made from materials like twigs and leaves, and silently thought how adorable it all was. Just when you were counting your hundredth house, the girl suddenly stopped. 

“We’re here,” she stated. 

In front of you, seven paths diverged and outstretched throughout the pasture. Each one looked uniform at first glance, but the longer you looked, the more you could see the slight differences. With your lips slightly parted, you turned back towards the girl, however, the space she occupied was now taken up by a lanky, ginger, cat-like entity licking its paw. 

“What?” it spoke with the girl’s voice. 

You jumped back slightly but a calm hushed your body. You took a deep breath.

“What am I supposed to do now?” you asked.

“What do you normally do when you see multiple paths?” she snickered, continuing to lick her paw. You stayed silent and looked towards her. She stopped licking and instead arched her back gracefully. 

“Choose.”

[popculturebuffet]

Donald Duck Birthday Special!: 12 Donald Shorts!

Happy Birthday to my faviorite duck! As you can probably guess from my previous Ducktales reviews Donald Duck is my faviorite of the classic disney gang. As an angry but well meaning, sometimes lazy sometimes hardoworing and always out of his depth guy really spoke to me for obvious reasons and my love of him made me check out life and times and well you know the rest.  But weirdly, until last month i’d hardly seen any of his theatrical shorts. I grew up as a “Tom and Jerry” and “Looney Tunes” kid, and with Disney never playing them on disney channel for whatever reason (even with the ones they really CAN’T play there’s dozens they sure as hell can), I just never had any real intrest. But then Louie’s Eleven happened , I was starved for Donsy content and thus rewatched Mr.Duck Steps out, and most of her filmography, skipping the ones where she’s the miserable wife from every sitcom... more on that later, and with one exception. So I wanted to review them.. but quickly reailzed that with 6 minutes for most shorts there’s not a ton to dig into, so I decided after finding out his birthday was next month to take a handful and pile them in here, review them and see what makes my boy so great, what dosen’t, and look at the good the bad and the holy shit did he just point a shot gun at that poor defensless animal of Donald Fauntleroy Duck. We get this party started under the cut. 

For funsies since, unlike most things I cover, every episode has a gif on here i’m going to use the gif keyboard to look up an image for the cartoon.. and if not well.. whatever’s there will have to do. 

1. The Wise Little Hen (1934) A charming little short that I rewatched today to get on the docket, and i’m glad I did. The plot is very simple: A Hen and her 8 chicks are planting, then harvesting corn. For each task they ask Peter Pig, Local dick and the Rusty Spokes of 1934, and Donald Duck, our boy looking very diffrent, for help. Peter just says who me then runs off while Donald fakes a bellyache. Both get their compuance when the Hen and her 8 chicks make a ton of goodies from the corn and decide to eat it all themselves, while donald and peter give themselves an ass kicking. 

I genuinely wish this is how life worked: Your bad, take advantage of people and your reward is not taking their beinfits and snickering but having to kick each other in the tuckuss on loop.. you know instead of the Peter Pigs of the world blaming people for getting maced in the face by stormtroopers. Sigh.  That aside it’s just a fun, charming short with great animation, and a great look for Donald. I do genuinely love his first look, even if it’d later be eased down to perfection. And there’s plenty of fun gags and great music. Overal a solid A short.  

2. Moving Day (1936) As you can see from the GIF this one isn’t strictly donald, we’re still one away from a starring role. After annoying the shit out of Mickey in the classic’s “The Orphans Benefit” and “The Band Concert” , Donald soon became his regular sidekick alongside Goofy. Both would quickly breakout and this short is apparent why as Mickey is a side character in his own labeled short.  The setup is somehow, after 84 years, STILL relevant to modern day. Basically Mickey and Donald are tennants who haven’t for whatever reason, paid their rent and are 6 months behind. And sure they could just be obnoxious squatters doing it onlyf or their art who shriek like banshees the moment their asked to actually pay rent, but thankfully this isn’t RENT, or else I would’ve jumped out of a window by now. No given this is the depression, their likely trying to hold onto their house and meager posessions for as long as they can while work is incredibly scarce... not like.. now.. ha .. ha. ha.... I may take the window up on it’s offer after all.  Anyways, our valiant heroes decide to try and cram everything they can into their friend Goofy’s milk truck while Pete’s busy putting up signs to advertise him trying to sell their shit to make up his back rent. WHich translates to a bit of mickey doing that and most of the short being spent with donald fighting a rug and Goofy being outsmarted by a piano. Both are utterly hilarious and prove why these two became far more popular, and overall the short’s a damn good timea nd our heroes win by still getting a pile of possesions out while their antics destroy the rest so pete gets nothing! Horay! They can sleep at goofy’s place! Now moving on from crushing reality, it’s animal cruelty! 

3. Don Donald (1937) I wasn’t kidding. Yeahhh this was donald’s first full, not attached to Pluto for some reason or an adorable chicken family or his mousy overlord short. Don Donald. Donald’s in mexico, for some reason and wooing a lady, in this case Daisy prototype, Donna Duck as seen in the header image. I like her, they have a diffrent dynamic, both being kind of tempramental and flirty instead of that being just ONE of donald and daisy’s dynamics. Others being muttually supportive and adorable (Ducktales and Quack Pack) or daisy being the wife from according to jim, or last man standing, or my wife and kids, or king of queens, or the george lopez show, or everybody loves raymond, or ... you know what i’m depressed enough from the last two shorts you get it. But you know without Donald being an obnoxious asshole who views every guy his daughter dates like a horny degernate who just wants to get in there and overreacts to everything involving them and makes me pray for death but death wont come.... I may not like classic daisy very much. Moving on.  That being said as you can tell from the donkey abuse donald.. ihs a fucking asshole in this one.. and not the loveable asshole he is in the band concert mind you I mean he’s less brent sienna and more tucker carleson. He laughs at his girlfriends misforutunes and hit shis burro and then tries to trade it in for a car.. which he does. He gets his commupance and all but yeah.. it’s deeply uncomfortable to watch him abuse this animal for half the runtime. Trading it in is one thing, but he’s still an utter dick to it.A short that COULD’VE been fun that instead is just uncomfortable, even given the time it takes place in. 

4. Donald’s Ostrich (1937) Donald works at a distant train station taking care of various cargo that comes in and ends up having to care for an adorable ostrich named hortense. Hyjinks, especially once she swallows Donald’s Radio, insue. This short.. is a MASSIVE step up from don donald. INstead of uncomfortable animal abuse donald just gets frustrated with an ostrich and battered round a bit, and tries to cure her hiccups. My faviorite bit is when hortense arrive, and stands up with a box on her,a nd donald goes under her gives a greatly delivered by Clarence Nash “what’s going on around here” before hortense sits on him. Really funny. And yes Hortsense is a regular ostrich. And yes that paradox has been around this long. But this one’s way funnier, way more charming and really damn adorable and dosen’t remind me of the crushing horrors of real life so yeah. A+. There’s only one short I like as much and it’s coming up. 

5. Modern Inventions (1937) Another one from his first year and another classic. Basically donald deals with various inventions in a “house of the future” type attractions, gets ruffled by them and the robot butler seen above steals his hat with a dry brtiish “your hat sir” while donald adorably pulls one out of thin air in increasingly creative ways. Again plotwise these shorts are simple but by now they figured out what made donald work: getting frustrated sure but with him being a relatable every man and sometimes trickster as seen here with the hats and him pulling that old coin on a string trick. 

He also dresses up like a baby at one point and i’ts weird but oddly funny... but yeah donald is in peak form here and this one is another clear A+, if for the running robot gag alone as donald keeps puttingon new hats and the robot has a truly spectacular design.

 6. Donald’s Better Self (1938)

Now for a weird one.. not the most surreal thing on our list, despite you know a devil version of donald popping out of his mailbox, but it’s damn close because you know, Donald as Satan popping out of his mailbox.  In short Donald is cast as a school aged child.... you know what’s coming. 

And you may say “Well jake they were just experimenting and his age was vauge at first” and to that I say, with no joke Huey Dewey and Louie debuted THIS SAME YEAR. Even given how adaptable older cartoon characters are, and they are it’s part of the charm, and tha’ts fine.. this is a bit over the line. Oh and it gets weirder as donald has the standard cartoon angel and devil arguging over his actions things.. only here the Angel and Devil are donald sized, and again fighting over the soul of a chid in the body of a 30 year old man, literally in some cases, ending with said devil encouraging donald to smoke before he and the angel get into a fistfight. While not an especially GOOD short, you have to admit.. it’s unique.. batshit but unique and worth at least one watch. 

7. Donald’s Penguin (1938)

The second in our trilogy within a series of “Donald gets a pet” shorts, this one start’s out fine, Donald gets an adorable penguin named Tootsie from “Colonel bird” and does cute things like immitate it’s walk or what not while Tootsie is a grumpus. Fun stuff. Then tootsie apparenlty eats Donald’s fish, and donald spanks the poor bird. Now this pissed off some people on Letterboxd but me, while it’s slightly distressing, it was 1938: while spanking was NEVER a great thing, it was acceptable back then and as far as Donald knew Toottsie knew not to eat the fish, Donald had told him no adorably, and did it anyway. So donald goes to get an apology trout, which he just.. has for some reason out of the ice box and uh.. things take a turn from “it was accpetable at the time” to “HOLY SHIT”...  Tootsie decides fuck it and eats the fish and uh... Donald.. how do I put this calmly.. ahemahem okay... DONALD GRABS A FUCKING SHOT GUN AND CHASES HIM AROUND, THEN ONLY BACKS OUT AT THE LAST SECOND, A SHORT FIRES, AND HE MOURNS WHAT HE THINKS IS HIS DEAD PENGUIN. We then get a cute shot at the end but holy shit.While Elmer fudd is one thing since he’s A) the bad guy and B) is indeed trying to kill a wild animal he has a lisence for instead of his fucking pet whose a protected species if those existed back then, this is just... like the donkey abuse, deeply uncomfortable. It’s one thing to spank a pet, even up to the 90′s that was acceptale and still is in some circles, but it’s another to try and murder it over a slight infraction. Just.. jesus christ. I want Tootsie back too, this was objectivley terrifying. Let’s move on. 

8. Mr Duck Steps Out (1940)

Ahhhh yes the short about dancing that brought me to the dance. This one is, without a shred of second guessing, which for my anxious self is a miracle, my faviorite both of this batch and in general.  The short is about Donald trying to go on a date with Daisy at her house, and his nephews inviting themselves along and trying to ruin there uncle’s every attempt at getting romantic with wacky hyjinks. That’s.. basically the plot.. as you can tell these things are very light on plot but here that’s all you need.  A few things to note. 1) The boys are VERY much in their early characterization, i.e., their all assholes instead of “All huey 2k17 but dialed down a notch” or “karmic tricksters working against their uncle’s ego”, though they’d ocassionally dip into this in the 80′s ducktales depending on the episode, especially if webby was around, and shove their face into it and inhale deeply like me with the hidden mountain of cocaine hidden under my basement.   The second is that Daisy has a duck voice, much like Donna did for this short and only this one. It’s not too distracting given she barely speaks, though she has more than enough body language to make up for it, it’s just.. odd.. especailly since it means Clarence Nash, donald’s voice actor, is voicing EVERYONE in the short and doing a terrific job of it.  Even weirder is Disney would later redub a shortned version for Disney Channel in the 2010′s that had their modern voice actors (Donald Aselmo, Tress Macneil and Russi Taylor, god rest her soul) re-dub it and it just feels all kinds of wrong despite the three being excellent va’s. I dunno the cleaner modern audio just feels wonky coming out of the old 40′s short.  But despite it’s oddities the short really has fun, from the iconic little dance donald does at the start...

Serioulsy I freaking love that dance and his outfit. To the little laughs donald gives when telling daisy “HA, I brought my nephews ha” like a 40′s tommy wiseau, to him roaring in a lion skin to the ending which is just pure adorable and nice because Donald actually GETS to win, especially because half of all donald shorts or comics where he’s sympathetic end up with Donald miserable and beaten up and me like this. 

Instead Daisy kisses him all over and over again, until the night goes dancing. 

Overal a fun, fast paced short about Donald trying to get laid and the gold standard of Donald Duck shorts. Two more things before I move on. This was co-written by disney comics legend Carl Barks, and it shows, and i’d be remiss if Id idn’t mention this bit of Daisy, after playfully shoving donald away when he coyly asks for a kiss, giving him a come hither signal with her butt.. which is somehow hot. Don’t ask me how.

And with that mental image we move on. What do we got next?

9. The Spirit of 43 (1943)

Ah yes propaganda! and the first one I couldn’t find a gif for. I watched this one because it’s another Barks one, he worked on several of these and was also the one who suggested not having HDL be assholes all the time as he felt, rightly, it’d get old after a while, and because it has protypes for scrooge and gladstone, and is thus one of the only shorts Scrooge is in and the only classic one... And like Donald’s Better Self it’s fucking weird. It’s all propganda no joke as ONCE AGAIN, yes AGAIN, two figures battle for Donald’s soul, this time a scottish man encouraging him to save and donate and a sleezy huckster encouraging him to spend for himself.. even though spending in bars and what not helps the economy and gives the bartender money to stay open during such trying times, but whatever. Also the huckster aka proto gladstone turns into hitler.. yes really.. and Donald then punches him through a swastika captain america style because donald duck is hardcore. Trust me this is somehow NOT a cocaine induced fever dream I had. Not a great one but like Donald’s Better Self worth at least one watch, in this case in additiont o the insantiy for the historical value of seeing two prototypes for Carl Barks most iconic characters. 

10. Sleepy Time Donald (1947)

As you can tell this one’s way more wholesome and way less of a drug trip. Donald goes sleepwalking and Daisy, realizing it, plays along so he dosen’t wake up and goes thorugh the motions of one of their dates. Very simple, ending with Donald thinking he’s the sleepwalker before she conks him out, and very adorable as while Donald isn’t concious, and has a boot on his head, we see what a standard date for them is like when Daisy is being written well as they strut around the park, he proposes, it’s all really damn cute and if you like these two together, you’ll really enjoy this one. Not much else to say other than it’s really precious and really funny and creative. Kinda hard to follow up Donald duck punching out hitler. 

11. Daddy Donald (1948)

Another quick one and the end of the “donald gets an animal” trilogy. First off, while I only got one gif from this short, I DID get this lovely image under “Daddy Donald” in Tumblr’s gif search thing

Awwwww. Anyways, Donald adopts a kangaroo like it was a baby, it’s kind of weird, not as weird as the above. He and Joey slowly bond, while he gets directions on what to do from the lady at the adoption place over the phone and hyjinks insue. Kind of cute but not quite reaching the heights of “Donald’s ostrich or the first hal fof “Donald’s Penguin” and not being quite as surreal as Double LIfe or Donald Punches Hitler.. which is what Spirit of 43 should’ve been named. I mean at least “De Fuherer’s Face” had a memorable name. But yeah not one of hte more notable ones and I mostly included it to round out the trilogy. Speaking of trilogy’s to close out this celebration of Donald, one of the last shorts and the last one featuring Daisy, and the inspriation fo rher Ducktales outfit. Donald’s Diary. 

12. Donald’s Diary (1954) Well.. this is basically one half of a good short ending in a lot of misogny. I could end it there but there is a lot to this short. It basically has donald, weridly in a clearly voiced narration talking about his courtship with Daisy as she first tries to get his attention and he’s oblivious.

Then she uses a rope trap and we get this iconic image which is concentrated awwwww. 

Then they date, Daisy’s implied to have dated a bunch of guys which was a bad thing in the 50′s but is perfectly resonable in 2020, and he meets her brothers, basically huey dewey and louie standins and her.. parents. Yes apparnetly donald’s parents have to be implicitly dead by present day, but Daisy’s can be alive. Weird ain’t it? It’s pretty adorable, has some great gags and we even get him proposing and them marrying!  And then the shoe drops.. yeah the rest of the short is how she expects him to GASP work all day , fair enough but then GASP do all the chores.. which is bad but the short implies it’s because he’s the man and she’s the woman and she should do housework. It’s actually bad because marriage is an equal partnership and while asking him to do a chore or too after working all day is fine just fine, asking him to do EVERYTHING while you do nothing is abusive and terrible and i’ve seen it actually happen in my friend’s previous marriage. So yeah this message can fuck off. And I knokw standards of the time, penguins having shotguns pointed at them etc but there’s not having aged well but being able to ignore it and there’s this.  And then she procedes to spousally abuse him and work him to the bone, and then he wakes up, and assuming ALL marraige sare like this dosen’t end up proposing leaving the poor girl wondering what the fuck she did to upset him. Real fucking cute guys. Seriously just.. part of the reason this part bothers me so much is MANY people think this is what marriage is like, like a fucking terrible sitcom. Life isn ot like home improvment or according to jim, or my wife and kids or king of queens or family guy, or you get my point again and yes I reused some their that bad.. even now we get stuff like man with a plan. It annoys me because 70+ years later and while it’s getting better this same lazy comedy still happens! and much like king of queens wasted the late great jerry stiller, this short wastes great animation and a great first half to tell a terrible story. It just leaves a bad taste in my mouth and is a bleh note to end on. Watch the first half because it’s adorable, end it at the wedding.  IN conclusion Donald’s shorts are a mixed bag but as you could tell some are truly spectacular and some are worth the spectacle and all have terrific animation and effort put in, evne when they didn’t deserve it and as such I couldn’t think of a better way to honor donald’s birthday than with these animators hard, well worth it efforts. Even when it wasn’t great, it was still somewhat fun. So happy birthday old friend and here’s to many more. Later Days.

[mediocrity-at-best]

Pumpkins

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Title: Pumpkins

Prompt: baking

Warnings: Remus

Pairings: romantic Analogical, BROTHERS Creativitwins + Patton, familial LAMP + Remus

Words: 2,537

@sanderssidescelebrations​ Day two of spooky month! Oh, how the time flies! Anywho, here’s my attempt at baking:

Logan’s favorite snack came around exactly once a year. It was a delicacy that he hadn’t been introduced to until he was twenty and dating his then-boyfriend, now-husband. It was delicious and amazingly simple to make and for some reason, Logan just couldn’t do it.

The first step to the best treat ever was: getting out of the house. In the last few years, this tradition had been slightly altered for them. Now, instead of Virgil and Logan jumping in the car and heading down the road, it took a little more effort.

“Roman!” Virgil called. “Come on! We have to go pick out pumpkins!”

“But Daaaaaa-aaaaad,” Roman said, “I don’t waaaannaaaaaa.” Roman splayed himself out on the couch and flung his jacket across the room. He kicked his feet against the couch and threw his arms up. Logan focused on holding Patton and keeping Remus in his clothes and also not eating worms, trusting entirely that his husband had Roman handled. The twins could be a lot all at once, but if they could be kept apart for five minutes they tended to be significantly easier to get moving.

“Ro, c’mon. You love picking pumpkins. And we get to carve them once we come home.” Logan grabbed Remus and slung him over a shoulder. Remus began squealing and laughing wildly, trying to get away. Then Logan swung Patton up too. Patton squealed excitedly and grabbed onto Logan’s face. “Oh no!” Virgil exclaimed. “Prince Roman, your brothers are being kidnapped by the evil giant! You have to save them!” This, at long last, seemed to pique Roman’s interest. He jumped up from the couch, objections long forgotten, and cried, “Worry not, fair Princes! I’ll save you!” He chased them out of the house, little wooden sword at the ready. Logan went toward the car and dropped to his knees when he felt the sword smack into his thighs.

“Oh, no! Woe is me!” Logan put a hand to his forehead like a swooning maiden and let Remus scramble down. Patton toddled clumsily after him. Remus pulled him behind Roman, while Roman pointed his sword at Logan’s heart, a giant grin on his face.

“You’ve been bested, fiend! Admit defeat, and maybe I’ll spare you.”

“So sorry, little Prince,” Logan said. “I never should have challenged anyone as fearsome and amazing as you to battle. You are too good to beat.”

Roman appraised Logan with a serious look. He turned to Remus. “What say you, Prince Remus? Should we spare him?”

Remus shrugged. “Nah.” As one, they pounced on Logan and he collapsed backward. Patton shrieked from the ground a few feet away, clapping. They wrestled in the grass for a moment before Roman shoved his sword under Logan’s arm. Logan caught it there and wailed dramatically, “I’ve been defeated! I’ve been killed dead by the noble Princes! Their prowess knows no bounds!” Logan fell still, and Roman and Remus crowed over him for a minute. Logan made eye-contact with Virgil, leaning up against the porch railing, and smiled. Virgil was laughing behind his hand, and Logan could see the faint glint of the sun on his wedding band.

“Alright,” Virgil called once he’d calmed himself down. “Enough killing Papa, let’s get in the truck.” Roman pulled his sword back to ‘magically reanimate’ Logan, and Logan swept him up in a hug as Virgil caught hold of Remus. They strapped the three boys into their booster and car seats and then Logan slid into the passenger seat. Virgil pulled the truck out of the driveway and laced his fingers with Logan’s on the center console.

The drive to the pumpkin patch went as quickly as could be expected with two five year olds and a one year old in the back. Logan only had to tell Remus to stop kicking his seat twice and Roman not to behead Remus three times. Sometimes, Logan believed, it truly was a miracle they made it anywhere alive. Or on-time. (We could be killed! Or worse, late!)

As they all piled out of the car, Logan took a deep breath of the crisp, cold air in the pumpkin patch, savouring it. Virgil wrestled Roman into his jacket and Logan zipped up Remus’ so that he couldn’t shuck it off and run for it quite so quickly.

The goal, as Logan always reminded Virgil, was not to stop any attempt at escaping. It was to hinder their attempts to escape long enough that they could be caught before they got hurt.

The second step to the best treat ever was: picking out the pumpkins. This was never an easy feat. Logan wanted to find a perfectly round pumpkin, while Virgil preferred the most lopsided, oddly shaped one in the patch. Patton got a tiny pumpkin, but that had more to do with his tiny, adorable baby hands than any sort of preference. Roman liked the largest ones, and Remus also wanted the smallest ones he could find. This was partly because he wanted to eat them, partly because they were easiest to hide, and mostly because he could throw them at Roman with amazing accuracy.

If Remus ever decided to do a sport instead of terrorize his brother, he might have a fair chance at a career in baseball. Oh, well. One can dream.

Logan was lucky this year. He found the perfect pumpkin just a few rows back. It was of average size and spherical, and Logan immediately set it aside for himself. Then he went to Roman and followed him around the pumpkin patch, laughing and nodding as he grandly deemed each pumpkin too small or not orange enough and unworthy, until they finally got toward the back and found a behemoth of a fruit. It was more than half Roman’s height and might have weighed twenty pounds. Logan heaved it off the ground and carted it back to the front while Roman careened around him, only now allowing himself to admire the other, lesser pumpkins. Logan could see Remus jumping around in the bed of the truck. Virgil leaned against the side of the truck, smoking a cigarette and watching the sky. Patton was doing his best to eat a stuffed pumpkin near Virgil’s feet.

Logan waved as they got closer, and Roman took off without him. Virgil met Logan halfway and relieved him of the pumpkin.

“I got this,” he said, pressing a chaste kiss to Logan’s lips. “You go pay and with any luck we’ll be ready to go when your done.”

“As you wish, my love.” Logan set off for the employee and within ten minutes, they were back in the truck, this time with Logan driving and the boys preoccupied with their brand new pumpkins.

The third step to the best treat ever was: carving the pumpkins. This was, inarguably, the hardest part to do now that they had kids. Roman and Remus were five and therefore not old enough to use the pumpkin carving tools. They were also crazy, and therefore might never be trusted with such sharp, pointy objects. Patton was one, and while he was already the most responsible one of their kids, he also could not have a knife. For obvious reasons.

Virgil, who was quicker and a bit more observant than Logan, always helped Remus carve his pumpkin. Remus was far more likely than Roman to grab a knife and take off with it. He was also far more likely to take a bite of the pumpkin innards when nobody was looking, and wihle that wasn’t necessarily bad - in fact, they were healthy - it was absolutely disgusting and a giant mess. A mess that no one wanted to be cleaning up.

Logan carved Roman’s pumpkin, and Patton wasn’t quite old enough to understand how to do it yet. So he just sat on the floor and played with whatever small pumpkins rolled his way.

Once Roman finished his crown drawing on the pumpkin and passed it off to Logan for carving, Logan chose his favorite pumpkin carving knife and cut a circle out of the bottom. This was actually ideal, as it allowed the pumpkin to stay good longer and aided in retaining its structural integrity as long as possible. (Logan was an architect, sue him for enjoying the science behind the decorations.)

Then, Virgil and Logan gave the pumpkins back to the boys so they could rip out all the guts. Logan personally preferred to not do that (ew yucky, that is gunk) but their disaster twins loved it, so it all worked out perfectly in the end.

“Remus, please don’t eat the pumpkin guts,” Logan said. Remus had a handful of stringy, seedy pumpkin in one hand and a gleam in his eye that Logan knew meant trouble. Virgil, too, seemed to sense the impending mess, but against the pure chaos that was their middle child, there was nothing they could do. Remus shoved the slimy mess into is mouth, turned to Roman, and shouted, “I ‘m tuh ten’cle mun! Be ve’y ‘fraid!” and then jumped on him. Roman howled like a banshee as Remus’ pumpkin tentacles splattered Roman’s shirt, and then it was on.

“Rere!” Patton cheered from the sidelines, slobber-coated pumpkin in hand. “Rere!”

“At least they’re not trying to do this with knives like last year,” Virgil muttered.

“Small victories,” Logan sighed.

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed, “small victories.” But they were both smiling and there really was nowhere else Logan would rather be.

They kept a careful eye on all three of the boys as they carved the messily drawn shapes and then got some of the fake candles to light them. By the time it was all said and done, Remus’s face was mostly orange and Roman’s clothes would never look the same again. Even Patton had managed to partake in the Great Pumpkin Massacre, and was looking as happy as ever to be covered in slime.

“Here,” Virgil said, handing one candle to Remus. “You turn it on like this.” Remus flicked the little switch in the bottom. His eyes went wide as he looked at the little candle, and almost reverently he mumbled, “fire.”

“Should we be worried?” Logan asked, smiling slightly.

“No,” Virgil whispered back. “Far too cute to be a bad thing.” Logan snorted but nodded, and then they showed them where to set the little candles. Logan quickly set the pumpkins back together and Virgil clicked the lights off. The boys gasped as they beheld the five glowing pumpkins, each one beautiful and ghastly.

Logan’s was a traditional, grinning pumpkin, though Virgil had convinced him to add a necktie to the bottom. Logan thought that made it look reminiscent of Spongebob, but he didn’t particularly mind. Virgil’s was a scarier version of a traditional pumpkin face and it had little lightning bolts shooting off the sides. Roman’s was a princely crown with slim letters cut out of the bottom to spell his name. Remus’s was the same, except there were tangled tentacles coming off the crown and he had just left his initials on the bottom. Patton’s had his name within the outline of a heart.

Remus pulled his toward him and lifted it above his head. “Mine is the best!” he shouted. “I’m going to put it outside.” He lurched for the door and Roman was on his heels.

“I’m going to take care of that,” Logan said, pointing after their sons.

“Okay,” Virgil replied. “If you can get them cleaned up, I’ll probably be able to get the pumpkin seeds done tonight.”

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?” Logan leaned in for a quick kiss and then scooped up Patton and another one of the pumpkins and carried on to the front porch.

The fourth and final step to the best treat ever was: preparing the seeds. That was what Virgil did while Logan handled the boys. They set the pumpkins out of the porch as Virgil carefully pulled the seeds out of the stringy remnants of the pumpkins. Logan took pictures of each boy and their pumpkins as Virgil salted the seeds. Logan brought the boys in and gave them all baths and clean clothes while Virgil put the seeds in the oven so they’d roast.

Remus was finally beginning to slow down once it was his turn for a bath. He didn’t even splash Logan once and seemed content enough to just be cleaned. He pulled the stringy bits in his hair out and watched them float around in the water while Logan wiped all of the slime off. Patton was also getting tired, and he yawned when Logan put him in the warm water. He was asleep before he was done. Roman, on the other hand, was the hardest to persuade into the bath. His hair was spiked up with pumpkin and his clothes and skin were stained orange, but he hated, more than anything else, the water.

“Ro, you have to take a bath. If you go to sleep like that, you’re going to be sticky when you wake up tomorrow.”

“Maybe I want to be sticky,” Roman said, arms crossed and pouting.

“Well, don’t you want to wear your new pj’s? They’ll be ruined if you put them on with all this gunk everywhere.” Logan ran a hand over Roman’s hair. It came away sticky. They both wrinkled their noses at it, but Roman still didn’t seem convinced. Logan sighed, but then cast a conspiratorially look over his shoulder, intriguing Roman. He pulled him closer and whispered, “Daddy’s going to have the pumpkin seeds all ready when you get out of the bath. But,” he added at Roman’s elated look, “you can only have them if you’re clean when they’re done. Bath first. Deal?”

“Deal,” Roman said, now determined. Logan smiled at him.

“Good boy.” He got Roman into the bath with little fuss after that, though he did pay for the bath with his own sopping wet clothes by the time it was done.

Logan brought the twins back into the kitchen a quarter after nine, exhausted and excited. Patton was sleeping in his room and Virgil had already divvied up the seeds into little bowls. Remus and Roman sat at the table and ate them quietly while Logan went to the kitchen counter next to his husband.

“Fun day,” he said quietly.

“Yeah,” Virgil yawned. “I’m just about ready for it to be over, though. Carving pumpkins really takes it out of ya.” He smiled and Logan couldn’t resist getting a kiss from him. “You’ve been pretty affectionate today,” Virgil noted. “Any reason, or just a thing?”

“It’s just been a pretty perfect day, if such a thing could exist.”

“I think it can,” Virgil mumbled, head leaning against Logan’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Logan said, “I think so too.” With one hand Logan pulled his own bowl of seeds toward him and with the other laced his fingers with Virgil’s.

And, well, if you wanted to be technical, the last last step to the best treat ever was to eat them, but that didn’t really need to be said. It was, after all, simple common sense to treasure the things you loved.

[terrorhqs]

hello to each and every one of you absolute wonders !! first of all, we would like to apologize for the wait - when we saw 8 apps hitting the inbox in the last few hours, we knew we would have some Serious Work on our hands. it took us longer than we expected to go through all of them, mainly because every single one was absolutely incredible, and this entailed several very, very tough decisions. we also wanted to be as accommodating as possible for certain applicants who inspired us to make a few changes along the way - with their backstories, their line of thinking, their amazing character, which we will note below. this truly was a round of acceptances where we thought we might create a whole new batch of skeletons just to showcase each app. thank you to everyone who applied. and for everyone who got accepted, please make sure to send in your accounts in 24h !!

HENRY for THE COMMANDER (james norton)

henry, your writing was an absolute treat, but it was truly your future plot ideas we were feasting on! we absolutely loved how tightly tied to fitzwilliam’s psyche they were, how terribly heart wrenching they were - particularly the first one - we have to admit it made us weepy and excited in equal measure.

GEN for THE DEVOTED, captain’s steward (richard deiss)

gen, your writing flourishes and entrances and beguiles, just as rowan does, and the two of you do it so effortlessly. your in-character response was a brilliant show of creativity and development in showing how rowan reacts to the same question asked by different people, and we knew he would be a phenomenon onboard the promethean. your app was showstopping, and we couldn't wait to welcome you aboard.

CAIT for THE SOCIALITE (tuppence middleton)

the whole personality of stella was a whirlwind in motion !! we were so eager to read more about them from the very first seconds. and the prose ! how beautiful ! (Worship the altar of this consuming, rebellious  heart and wear it in red, bathe in this baptismal font of sordid gossip, glory, erupting nights of heated duels between wit and ego) - this is the epitome of what we wanted for them, and even more than we could’ve hoped !

KAT for THE DOCTOR (dev patel)

kat, please let us dwell with jonathan in his sunshine and pure spirit forever?? we are all rosa diaz on this blessed day and he is a golden retriever puppy we would all kill for. we love his love for nature’s wonders and for people alike, but we also adore the depth and understanding you brought to his future plots. we welcome you and jonathan to the crew with such, such open arms !

ALICE for THE DOE-HEARTED (su yihan)

alice, your writing was a siren song that lulled us into the depth of sybil's story - in a heartbeat, we would drown in it all over again. you kept the essence of the doe-hearted but took it so much further in making her a girl haunted, the buildup of sybil and her story a grimm fairytale to be told again and again. "You were born by the water, sweet thing. Your story is the sea with but an island in the middle of it." you have truly woven a complexity to the doe-hearted that we never expected - we'll all be holding our breaths to see how our dear fairytale fares on open waters !!

BEAU for THE INTREPID (tobias menzies)

oh, beau. the entire process of your application was as beautiful and chaotic as a natural phenomenon - it felt like we need albert in this rp, and that weight had the certainty of force? we knew we have to give him the leeway for development he deserved. i cannot properly convey how much we loved the schematics of his past, and how it contrasted with his ideals for the future. he is a map of contrasts and we are so eager to see him on the dash !

NAYAB for THE ENIGMA (katrina kaif)

nayab, the way you illustrated jaya's rich history was absolutely delectable - we were positively screaming over the intricate detail you put into the creation of such a nuanced, interesting, and fiery character. the research and thought you put into jaya absolutely wowed us, and it was impossible not to love (and admittedly, cower a little before) her. "what if this expedition makes you encounter what even you - with your cautious gait, and sharp, dark-eyed gaze - never saw coming?" what a cannonball she is, and what an impact she had on us !

JINHEE for THE HARUSPEX (avan jogia)

jinhee, ashwin is an absolute delight and so was reading your application! as rhi screamed, ‘FUCK I BELIEVE IN HOPE AGAIN??’ we loved the icarus imagery and were not prepared to be completely undone by this line: (and weren’t you told never to touch your idols? warned that the gilding will stick to your fingers?). the way you took his father’s ancestry and tied into his present feelings for britain was absolutely chef’s kiss. we were enamored from start to finish - well done.

KYLIE for THE IDOL (garret hedlund)

oh, what a STUNNING app !! it is so difficult to balance guilt and righteousness, and we feel like you did that thoroughly for jack. your level of close-reading through our skeleton was genuinely flattering, but the way you took it to new depths (and heights) was humbling. we are so, so eager to see how the tide will turn for jack, and all the possible ways you can give him a redemption arc - or the lack of one.

N for THE LOVER (zoe kravitz)

N, let me prostrate myself at eleonore’s feet. your application was so rich and beautifully written, truly embodying the lover’s feline lethality that you want to pet anyway despite knowing she might very well be your downfall. “feed me was all she had ever asked in exchange for burning day and night for him.” hello yes, we volunteer.

TILDA for THE NOBLE (madeline madden)

it was very hard choice for the noble, but tilda, i adore helene’s family’s backstory, how it seemed to rot from the core until collapse. you truly grasped the character and her yearning for abandon, her desperation, and her voice/dialogue in your in-character response was utterly delightful! we can’t wait to see her voyage from sea-legged noble lady to tide commanding shanty.

ADRIAN for THE PURSER (matthew goode)

if only you could see how we reacted when we received this app ! and trust me, the hype only increased when we got to reading it. did we channel that excitement through God-honest tears? uh, yes. we did. ( dead can’t receive letters but Edward still writes them anyway. ) we clutched edward to our chest time and time again through that - and the SPLENDID letter added at the end, what a treat to us ! we are so thankful just at the privilege of reading this. we’re even more thankful that we’ll see him on the dash.

EMI for THE ROMANTIC, wardroom steward (yang yang)

emi, we've concluded with all of your beautiful plot points that you and june do indeed, have the range - you gave us such a variety of wonderful exploration of june's personality, psyche, hopes, and dreams all wrapped up in the beautiful poetry that fit june's character like a second skin.  "the light upon the ice. a brilliant, sightless mirror. it comes not from the sun but from our prometheus, barrelling out from dark waters with an inexplicable gift: fire." you've captured him so beautifully and we cannot wait to see how he will be the promethean's sun to the open seas !

CLAUDIA for THE SCION (rome flynn)

you really manged to send a :59 app and still steal the show ! how very Scion-y of you. in all seriousness, i adored augustus background so MUCH - his maternal connection, the wishy-washy tides of his family’s structure, the conflict inherent in his very development !! so so good. you took a carefree skeleton and you gave it a million possible depths. we, as both admins and players, are so grateful for it.

AERIN for THE SHADOW (sebastian stan)

aerin, it is not an exaggeration that your app had us literally with our jaws open the entire time ? you truly took us turn after turn into elijah's story and hours later, we're still breathless and trying to recover from it. you captured the shadow's overcast history the way a shadow slowly looms over you - we were absolutely consumed by the end of it, and we're all here absolutely begging for more. we can't wait to have enoch onboard this expedition !

CASS for THE GODKILLER (kofi siriboe)

this is the sort of role dreams are made of. i think i speak for everyone when i say we never could have envisioned a skeleton as terrific, terrifying, tectonic as abel. stop me with the alliterations - lapsing into poetry is genuinely the only thing left to do when the support of prose fails you? you brought us to the end of prose. their role just jumped out for us and we knew it called for an entire skeleton. what an app !

ANNIE for THE STOWAWAY (riana hardesty)

i have to confess, we had such high expectations for the stowaway, because we knew their motivation would be one of the toughest to crack - and annie, you exceeded literally even the most optimistic of them ! (You’re no musician, but playing the melody of someone else, someone who can weasel their way in and out of a bad spot - that’s one song you know how to sing well enough.) that is such a fantastic rendition of their personality, and written so, so beautifully !

LEO for THE VETERAN (toby stephens)

i think this app was the one which sent me in a banshee-screech session that was genuinely disturbing to everyone on a 100 miles radius. the way you phrased the headcanons at the end had me in stitches - which was a welcome change for how DEEPLY i was feeling wells’ backstory. from sobbing to laughter just like that, huh. you have an unprecedented power, leo, and we love to see it !

[perditaalottachocolate-blog]

Spring Fever (17)

@adrinetteapril 2019 story

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | art | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | art |  art  | 18 | 19 | 20 |

AO3 / fanfiction.net

A huge thank you to @goblin-alchemist for betareading this story! And thank you all for reading, liking, reblogging and for the comments. You make me very happy! <3

***

Chapter 17. Nightmare

In which Adrien is amazed

If Adrien had known her plan was to confront Nemesis and get attacked, he would never have agreed. This was by far the bravest and most reckless thing he’d seen Marinette attempt. Without batting an eyelash, with her chin high up, she faced the villain. The scene would feed Adrien's nightmares for years. His blood ran cold as he watched the love of his life challenging Nemesis.

'If you’re so sure I’m trying to use Adrien, why don’t you check it yourself?’ Marinette inquired. 'Is that because you’re afraid I’m telling the truth?’

'You’re not telling the truth,’ the villain shrugged, malicious grin on her marble face. 'See, I’ve been in this business all my life. I’ve seen it happening tens of times, I’ve heard of hundreds more. I know how it works.’

'You don’t know me.’

'Please, have you looked at yourself?’ Nemesis snorted out a laugh. 'What do you have that I don’t? What a girl like you could possibly offer to someone like Adrien?’

Marinette seemed to consider this for a moment. 'Talent?’ She offered. 'Honest friendship? Genuine affection? Baked goods? A killer partner in video games?’

Adrien saw a shadow of a smirk dancing on her lips. He couldn’t help but to think he liked this side of her very much and he wished he’d see it more often. Or maybe he just had a thing for strong women? She was playing with fire, demonstrating iron-clad confidence, a devil-may-care attitude and sass he had no idea she was capable of, clearly trying to vex Nemesis into making a mistake. And it looked as if her plan was working.

The akuma cackled. 'Baked goods?’ She parotted. 'Genuine affection? I think I’m going to give you what you’ve asked for, girl,’ she brandished the whip.

That was his cue. Adrien tensed, ready to intercept the weapon. He thought Marinette wanted to focus Nemesis’ attention so that he could sneak his way to her. He was wrong.

‘Show me what you got,’ the love of his life called out. She opened her arms, waiting for the crack. 

She didn’t have to wait long. With a banshee scream the akuma tugged at the whip. Marinette stared at her challengingly, not budging even one bit. The whip made contact with her skin. The crack was deafening in the narrow space of the underpass, masking Adrien’s frantic steps as he launched himself in their direction. Terrified he cast a look at his friend.

Marinette was still standing in her place, perfectly fine and unmarbleized. She raised a brow. ‘Your turn,’ she murmured.

Nemesis sent her a confused look. It only took a tiny fraction of a second and Adrien ripped the weapon out of her unresisting hand. Not thinking twice he threw it to Marinette, who caught it expertly and brandished it as if she’d been dealing with ropes her whole life.

‘Let’s see what you’re made of,’ she said.

Another crack thundered over the passage accompanied by Nemesis' cry of protest, both leaving an unpleasant ringing in Adrien’s ears. 

The space was suddenly short of villains. A stone statue appeared where Nemesis had been standing mere seconds ago. An outstretched hand, reaching for the whip. Lips opened in a silent shriek. Eyes blown wide and hair thrown back. Adrien was sure this was the least flattering image of Giselle he'd ever seen. 

Marinette limped to her. She weighed the weapon in her palm. 

'It's still dangerous, but if I break it and set the butterfly free while Ladybug is not here to purify it…,' she said.

Adrien shivered. 'The last thing this city needs is an army of Nemeses.'

'Despair not, civilians, who I see for the first time in my eternal life,' a familiar voice sounded from somewhere near the statue’s head. 'The cavalry has arrived! Well, metaphorically speaking.' 

Plagg's head popped from behind Nemesis' stone cold shoulder. Adrien suppressed a groan, while Marinette squeaked adorably in surprise.

'Sorry,' the kwami's ears dropped apologetically. 'I didn't mean to startle you.'

'What- who are you?'

Plagg tapped his nose. 'I'm Chat Noir's boss,' he announced with a toothy grin.

'Don't you mean "assistant"?' Adrien drawled. He had no idea why his kwami decided to show up to a civilian. Two civilians technically.

Marinette actually giggled at that, trying in vain to hide a smile.

The sprite sent him a flat look. 'I may be small in size, but I'm not some Santa's little helper,' he replied acidly. 'Anyway I'm here to offer my services as Chat Noir and Ladybug can't show up now,' he paid Marinette a deep bow.

'Your services?' The girl tilted her head, knitting her brows.

'I can relieve you of this cursed cargo,' he pointed at the whip, 'and take it to Ladybug for purification.'

'What are you going to do with it?' Adrien crossed his arms in front of his chest, his voice dripping with suspicion. First time he witnessed Plagg actually volunteering for anything.

The sprite looked between the two teens, then down at his belly and up at the ceiling. 

'You don't want to know,' he finally replied. 

'So you’ll get this to Ladybug?’ Marinette made sure. She passed him the whip.

'You bet,’ Plagg grinned. 'Cataclysm,’ he whispered and touched the weapon with a tip of his paw. The item turned to dust as the ground shook. A few cracks appeared where the whip lay on the ground, a few specks of dust fell from the ceiling. 

The akuma broke free. It fluttered its wings and took flight to sunlight. 

Plagg sighed. ‘Just think it tastes like camembert,’ he muttered barely audibly and leaped after the butterfly. Before Adrien could even ask what he wanted to do, the kwami swallowed the insect. He burped with an echo that should not be possible in such a small creature.

'Hey, since when can you-,’ Adrien started. 

Plagg sent him a warning look. 'I trust you two to keep quiet about this, okay? Now excuse me, but I have a Ladybug to catch.’ With one last grin he turned around and flew back into the metro.

Adrien watched until the kwami disappeared from sight. Marinette’s hiss of pain interrupted his plan to follow Plagg. 

‘Come on, I’ll help you,’ he offered, wrapping an arm around the girl’s shoulders and taking her weight. Once again he was stunned by her scent. He tried to ignore his spinning head and blood drumming in his ears. Ignoring the heat that ignited his skin proved to be more difficult.

‘Adrien, wait.’ Marinette stopped him. 

She put a hand on his chest. He wondered if she could feel the frantic beating of his heart.

‘F-for what?’ he stuttered, her proximity threatening to render him speechless. He squeezed his eyes shut and resolved to keeping his intakes of air in short, shallow breaths, not to get drunk on her essence. ‘Your leg is n-not going to get better until Ladybug finally arrives.’

‘The kiss,’ she simply said. ‘Before something or someone interrupts us again.’

‘The kiss,’ he echoed, the finality of it suddenly crashing on him. 

Adrien looked at her, for the first time in days seeing Marinette in an entirely new light. Not only was she a great classmate and a thoughtful friend. She was kind and accepting, loyal, sensitive and respectful. But also strong, determined, creative and resourceful. She was brave, fearless maybe, definitely selfless. 

And she loved him.

‘No, I- I can’t ask you to do that,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t want- Oh, this is a nightmare!’

‘A nightmare? Why?’ She frowned. ‘Don’t you want to break the curse?’

If she’d asked him that question the day before, he’d undoubtedly said yes. But now he was hesitant. Why didn’t he want her to kiss him? Why hadn’t he confessed the true nature of the curse earlier?

Because I don’t want this to end, he realized. I don’t want to stop loving her. Because I feel it in my bones I belong with her. Because she’s my soulmate. 

Was this the curse talking? Adrien no longer knew how he felt. Where did his original feelings end and the miraculous magic begin?

‘Adrien?’ 

‘Loving you… it’s not-,’ he murmured. ‘It’s the best thing that happened to me since-...,’ his hand went into his hair. He caught a fistful and tugged, hoping for the pain to give his mind back to him. ‘I love loving you,’ he ended lamely.

‘But you’re cursed,’ Marinette looked at him from under her long lashes, her gaze worried and kind. 

He could drown in her eyes. He wanted to be able to look into them every day. He wanted to worship her every day. The nausea and panic rose from the depths of his stomach.

‘That isn’t fair,’ she continued, unaware of his internal turmoil. ‘You need to - as you said - be your own man. You need to make your own choices, not have magic make those choices for you.’

‘I know.’

‘We need to do this,’ Marinette turned to face him. Adrien failed to remove the hand that rested on her shoulder. She blushed and smiled sweetly. ‘And I’m not saying that because I want a kiss from a cute boy.’

‘I know,’ he chuckled, despite his unease, blushing even more. ‘Just… let me have this…’ he ducked his head and pressed his forehead to hers. He wouldn’t have dared attempt such an intimate gesture, but he desperately wanted to savor those last moments. He wasn’t sure what he’d remember once the curse was removed. 

Marinette didn’t shy away, just like she hadn’t when they had been talking in her room. She leaned into him instead, wrapping her hands around his middle. ‘Whatever happens, you won’t lose me, Adrien. I promise.’

Each time Adrien thought she couldn’t be more perfect, she proved him wrong. How could she read him like an open book? How could she know him like this?

‘You’re wonderful, Marinette,’ he whispered, his voice cracking. ‘Thank you. For everything.’

She climbed to her toes and reached to his lips. The world fell still.

***

Author’s Note: If you like this story, please let me know!

[thehollowprince]

Teen wolf?

favorite male character: Scott McCall, obviously, and to this day there are people who are still really really mad that I liked the protagonist of the show.

I really loved Mason, too. I'm pretty sure that's where Jeff Davis channeled everything he wanted to give to Danny but "couldn't" because of his beef with Colton and the latter's exit from the show.

favorite female character: Oh, boy... that's a toss up between Kira and Lydia. I loved Kira from the word go, but I also loved the growth that Lydia went through, so I'm torn.

least favorite character: I have two answers for this. Narratively speaking, I'm gonna have to go with Jackson. I never really got over his douchdbag attitude and then he disappeared just as the show started to delve into his past and possibilities (I'm utterly convinced that he was supposed to be Peter's kid and that they had to rearrange things after Colton bounced.)

Just from a "I dislike them" standpoint we have Stiles. Not because he was a bad character (he was a great foil to Scott, they balanced out eachother very well) or because of any of the stuff he did ("Some of us are human!"), but because the fandom kept trying to convince everyone (even themselves) that he was the best character ever and that the show should have been about him. Whenever fandom tells me that this is "the best character ever" I immediately take a step back and am way more critical of them.

prettiest character: well this is just unfair, because have you looked at that cast? They're all ridiculously gorgeous. It was like watching something on The CW. Its impossible to choose just one, because I'd say Kira, but then I think of Danny, and then I think of Isaac and then I think of Boyd, and then I think of Scott and then... well, you get the idea.

funniest character: I don't think there was any just one funny character, because they all had their moments, particularly Scott and Stiles when they were together. Or when Ken very loudly gave Kira that research "for that boy you like" right in front of Scott, or Malia not understanding modern stuff, or Isaac's and Boyd's sarcasm. Oh, and let's not forget Peter's disney villain voice in 3B ("The huntress and the banshee." Seriously, what the hell was that?)This show may have lacked a bit in terms of plot cohesion, but it was pretty good with the humor.

favorite season: truth be told I liked at least something about all the seasons, but I'm going to have to go with season two. That was the last time there felt like any kind of actual thought went into the whole season rather than just an episode-by-episode basis, where the writers had no idea where they wanted to end it. Season five was pretty good, too. Not just because Theo managed to do what nobody else did before him: break up the back, but because the two halves felt connected by the plot as opposed to seasons 3A and 3B, and 6A and 6B being completely separate plots each time.

However, I will say that season six sucked balls. The first half being entirely focused on a character that wasn't there because their actor chose to go do something else, and the second half just devoted to senseless violence and to killing off characters for shock value.

favorite episode: Master Plan. We got to see what a brilliant strategist our lead was, and I loved it.

The Overlooked was one I just have fun watching again and again, with our heroes trapped in an abandoned hospital in the middle of a raging storm. It was just a fun episode.

favorite romantic ship: this is one of the few shows where I actually liked most of the canon ships. I loved Scallison, and then Scira. Stiles and Malia were great together and I would have loved to have seen what could have been between Lydia and Jackson before the latter's departure. Derek and Braeden... wish we could have seen more of them. Mason and Corey were adorable, as were Liam and Hayden.

And, of course, I have my crack ships that I would have loved, Scisaac ("Dude, I love Mexican") or Scanny ("Its Armani"/"Its nice."), or Scalia.

favorite friend ship: this might come as a surprise to people, but I really liked the dynamic between Scott and Stiles. They completed eachother perfectly, and that was how they were able to outsmart so many of these diabolical villains. Also, Liam and Mason being this cool combination of the Scott/Stiles and Jackson/Danny friendships was cool.

favorite family ship: the McCall Pack

worst ship: St*r*k, obviously. I've made my opinions on that pretty clear. I wasn't a fan of the whole Allison and Isaac thing, either. I feel like that was shoved in there to compensate for the unintended Scisaac feels as well as to capitalize on the fact that I believe Crystal and Daniel were dating at the time. Also, not going to lie, I wasn't a dan of the Stiles/Lydia and Scott/Malia stuff in the final two seasons.

[too-many-kpop-hubands]

30 Day Fandom Challenge

Here we go again for my fandom challenge. You still with me? @domsberto I'd also like to nominate @jimonsprettyface

This next fandom is one that I have been a part of from the very beginning and it holds a special place in my heart. Hold on tight and for those who haven't seen it, spoilers ahead.

Day 2- Teen Wolf

(TV Show not Movie)

1) Favorite Character: Stiles Stilinski

Reason: I have a thing for adorable dorks apparently. 😂

Ok so I adore Stiles the most because he is the backbone and heartbeat of the group. Sure he's a spazz and a nerd but he also always finds a way to get the group out of sticky situations because of his intelligent and knack for looking at things from every angle (he truly is his father's son....it helps his Father is the Sheriff alot of the time). He is loyal to a fault and though he has a hard time trusting most newcomers, once you are in he will literally follow you to the ends of the earth. He is a hopeless romantic, as shown with how he is with Lydia and even Malia. He loves deeply and thought he tends to be a fuck up at times he always finds a way to make things right. He keeps the others in line and helps everyone that needs his help. As the only human of the group he takes his job very seriously and is damn good at keeping the group together even when he personally feels like falling apart. I adore him to no end.

2) Most Relatable Character: Liam Dunbar

Reason: Liam is an adorable, scared and confused little rage monster. Unlike the others on the show who had a few seasons to get used to the world of the supernatural, Liam was still new to the world and was often left scratching his head wondering what the hell was going on. I can relate to that because even in real life I don't know what the hell is going on most of the time. He is also the most relatable because unlike the others on the show, he actually acts his age for the most part and wasn't forced to grow up as fast as the others. Honestly, for a young Beta wolf he can be the most human of them all at times. He likes to have fun, he likes to hang out with his girlfriend and play lacrosse. He marches to the beat of his own drum, which I do most of the time. Another thing I can relate to is having a short temper. While my temper is not nearly as bad as Liam's (who as Intermittent Explosive Disorder) I still get how hard it is to calm down once that temper is triggered.

3) Most Underrated Character: Isaac Lahey

Reason: Besides Derek, Isaac probably had the most growth of all the characters on the show before his exit from the show. He had to shoulder alot of pain and loss in his life starting with his mom leaving and his brother dying, then suffering from years of abuse at the hands of his father. After being turned by Derek, he felt empowered to help not only himself but others as well and did all that he could to help people in need. He even found it in him to forgive his father for abusing him for so long, which takes strength all on it's own. He went from being a scared and abused little boy to being a badass who did everything he could to help people he cared about and those who were unable to defend themselves. I see you Isaac, I see you and I appreciate you.

4) Most Overrated Character: Derek Hale

Reason: Ok before I start this, let me just says that I love Derek Hale ok? He is all kinds of sexy and has some good qualities but of all the people on the show he is also the most overrated. Ok hear me out here before you come at me. Throughout the series Derek is hyped up as this big bad Alpha dude. Yes, he turned a bunch of teens into wolves and helped them, and Scott, learn the ropes but when it came down to a fight most of the time he either made things worse or just didn't show up when he was needed the most (example when they were fighting the Nogitsune, Dread Doctors, Ghost Riders, Alphas). Most of the time it was Scott and his pack that ended up saving the day. Sure Derek helped gather intel but as far as fighting goes, he didn't really do much for such a "Big Bad Alpha" who threatened to rip people's throats out with his teeth. Hell he didn't even kill the bitch that murdered his ENTIRE family, nor did he kill the Darach...instead he slept with her. Wow Derek, just wow. He ran most of the time, went MIA alot of the time only to make a dramatic entrance and knock a few people around when Scott already had things under control. I love Derek but.....some big bad Alpha he was.

5) Least Favorite Character(s): Tied Kate, Gerard, and Victoria Argent

Reason: First of all, Kate....She got away with murdering an entire family (minus Derek, Laura, Peter and Cora) and then manages to cheat death by turning into a freaky ass werejaguar when Peter ripped her throat out. How?!?!?! No matter how much chaos she starts she still ends up getting away. How is she not dead yet? Jesus! She was a manipulative person and honestly one of the most toxic on the show besides her shady ass who I will talk about next.

Gerard was a piece of work. He brainwashed Allison into trying to kill her friends, he praised Kate for killing the entire Hale family, he tortured and killed innocent supernaturals simply for existing and used Jackson in his kanima form to carry out his shady agenda. He was also a hypocrite. He hates supernaturals yet relied on Scott to help take away his pain when he was sick and dying only to turn around and train a new generation of Anti-Supernatural hunters to do his bidding. He was a piece of shit.

Victoria Argent was the Matriarch of the Argent family and even when her daughter (Allison) and husband (Chris) wanted to actually help the innocent supernaturals she did everything in her power to make sure they felt like shit for wanting to help. She freaking tortured and tried to kill Scott for no other reason than he was a werewolf that was screwing her daughter and then made herself out to be a victim when Derek came to save Scott and he bit her a few times after she attacked him. She refused to turn and killed herself instead of facing the consequences her actions lead to (her turning into the very thing she hated, a werewolf).

6) Favorite Canon Pairing: Stydia (Stiles Stilinski and Lydia Martin)

Reason: From the beginning when you first see Stiles and Lydia interact on screen you start to root for the spastic nerd to win the heart of the most popular girl in school. Stiles always saw the real Lydia that she hid behind her popular facade. He saw how smart she was, how much she actually cared for people despite pretending like she didn't. He had been in love with her since the 3rd grade and even when they dated other people, that love never died. The closer they got as friends the more you wanted them to just end up together. Several seasons later and we finally hear them confess their love for each other and finally FINALLY get together. Praise be to all things Holy! Stiles and Lydia manage to balance each other out and anchor each other. When Stiles has panic attacks, Lydia is there to help calm him down. When Lydia gets overwhelmed by her Banshee powers, Stiles is there to help ground her. Stiles saved Lydia more times than I can count but she saved him too on more than one occasion. Stiles and Lydia have a love that is beautiful and pure. I see them lasting forever and they should even now that the show has been over for a while now. They are beautiful and they are my OTP. I could go on forever but I will just leave it here.

7) Favorite Non-Canon Ship: Scisaac (Scott McCall and Isaac Lahey)

[Close Call Honorable Mention: Sterek (Stiles Stilinski & Derek Hale)]

Reason: Ok first of all this was a close race between my boys Scisaac and my boys Sterek but when I look back at both pairings, I love the purity of Scott and Isaac versus the almost toxic pairing that is Sterek. (I adore Sterek but come on! Looking back now they were hella toxic!) Now for Scott and Isaac they had their moments. They lived together and Scott always managed to find a way to help bring Isaac back to reality when he had moments where he would lapse into PTSD style symptoms and nightmares. They always had each other's backs and they always gave each other looks that went beyond that of just friendship. Hell Isaac even agreed with hearts in his eyes that Scott was the "hot girl". I believe that if these two had of both cut Allison lose and crossed the boundary of friendship into a romantic relationship they would have been just as strong as Stydia. A pure and passionate kind of love born out of genuine care for one another.

8) Least Favorite Pairing: Stalia (Stiles Stilinski and Malia Tate)

Reason: First of all their first hook up was in a freaking insane asylum so that right there is not a good start for any lasting relationship. Throughout their relationship, Malia took Stiles for granted and then had the nerve to get jealous when he paid more attention to Lydia (who he had been in love with forever at that point). Malia had the mindset of a child and was immature most of the time. Don't get me wrong, Stiles could be immature at time too but she brought out the worst in him. I don't dislike Malia. I actually like her as a character but not as Stiles's girlfriend. Plus this biggest reason I dislike this ship? It took longer for Stydia to finally happen. Let's not forget how she practically walked all over him.

9) Favorite Part/Moment: Lydia tells Stiles she loves him too.

Reason: Stiles had been taken by the Ghost Riders and everyone forgot who he was but before he was taken he told Lydia "Remember I love you." But she never got the chance to say it back before he and her memories of him were ripped away. When he finally came back there was a touching scene where Lydia said "I never got to say it back." And the two of them shared their first real kiss (not counting the kiss she gave him to stop a panic attack in a previous season). This was one of those moments that was several years long overdue and for us Stydia fans, we rejoiced when they finally got their shit together and actually became a couple. Praise!

10) Least Favorite Part/Moment: Allison is killed by the Oni

Reason: Allison Argent was a character you could sometimes love and hate at the same time. When they battled the Nogitsune and she sacrificed herself to the Oni to save Isasc, I sobbed like a baby. It was a way for the writers to write off the actress's character but one of the most heartbreaking scenes in the entire series. It is my least favorite because Allison died. It was a beautiful farewell as she died in the arms of her first love (Scott) but I can't even think about it without sobbing.

Thank you for sticking with me. Until tomorrow! ❤

[saintjosaphime]

Stab In The Dark|| Deirdre and Josephine

Cemetery. Wine. And Venus in retrograde. A perfect end to Valentine’s Day.

Josephine had a special talent. One not entirely connected to her powers of justice, but not completely separate. It was a talent that she’d grown, because she’d learned that her hunches were almost always right. And her hunch about Deirdre, was that she wasn’t quite normal. Though White Crest was made up mostly humans, there were signs, when talking to a person, that could easily point someone towards “not quite human”. And Josephine had honed those skills over time, because it paid off for someone like her to know these things. Knowledge was power, after all, and Josephine was something even more powerful. 

So it was with this mindset, that Josephine found her way into Hambry Cemetery, picnic basket, blanket, and pie in hand. It was definitely one good way to end a night, and perhaps one of the best ways to end a Valentine’s Day night, because Josephine would win out either way. Learning what Deirdre was was the main goal of the night, but having side goals was always good. Shoot for the stars, she’s always told her kids. Reach for more than one and you’ll always catch something.

She spotted Deirdre up on a little hill, near one of the benches the park provided for morose and mourning visitors to rest on. Hambry was one of the nicer ones in the main town, and though Harris Island was probably nicer, Josephine was glad she hadn’t had to take the twenty minute ferry ride over. The closer she got, the more she felt it. Deirdre’s hidden resent, bottled up side of her as if she were a Matryoshka doll. But Josephine knew it was there. And Josephine knew, with certainty, Deirdre wasn’t human. “You know, I made a bet with my bank teller you would be here. He said you wouldn’t show or that you’d try to murder me, but looks like he was wrong,” she said as a greeting, giving a toothy grin. “Well...so far. The night is still young.”

Any day Deirdre could convince someone to come to a cemetery with her was a good one. Were she a less arrogant woman, she might have been shocked that so many people agreed to the proposal. Of course, she wasn’t. So she chalked it up to her charm which spilled flawlessly even over the internet. She titled the telescope a little, catching sight of the star she wanted, glowing brightly against an inky sky. It wasn’t how she wanted to be spending her Valentine’s night, but this was better than thinking about someone she really shouldn’t be. She heard Josephine first, trying to conceal her frown as she turned around. So not a fae or an undead, a shame. She’d have to work her way around feigning interest in a human; hopefully Josephine wouldn’t make that too hard. “Looks like you won some money with the bank teller then,” she turned, offering a smile in return and gesturing for the woman to come closer. “You can’t tell me I look more beautiful than the stars standing all the way over there!” The banshee stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jacket, laughing. “Oh, I don’t murder the pretty ones. Though I might still; depends on what you’ve got in that basket there. Wine?”

Deirdre had a nice lilt to her voice. Not American. Josephine smiled again as she stepped closer, holding out the basket. “Well I’m glad to know I’m pretty enough for you to not murder me,” she said. “Wine, among other things.” She moved as if to hand Deirdre the baset, then set it promptly next to them, dropping her blanket on top before moving past Deirdre to the telescope. Didn’t move to look through it yet, pausing when she was between Deirdre and the lens. “Well, how can I honestly say that if I haven’t seen the stars yet? Find any good ones? Any shooting stars we can wish on tonight?” she asked with an innocent grin and tilt of her head. Deirdre was a nice looking woman, too. Long brown hair, dark enough that it soaked up the moonlight and gave off a nice sheen. Pale face, dark eyes staring out from her white skin. Josephine figured some sort of English-- perhaps Irish-- decent. And the most common species over there was fae. Sure, it was still a shot in the dark, but Josephine was nothing if not smart in her deductive reasonings. And by the end of the night, she would get the answer from Deirdre, one way or another.

There was a way about Josephine that annoyed Deirdre, though she lacked the words to explain it. Perhaps it was the way she could so casually flip something back, or the ease at which she could tease and feign innocence. These were moves Deirdre excelled in, but her usual mischievous nature found itself bristling against Josephine’s. But this was fine, two could play this game, she just needed to find the angle to work Josephine at. And by the fates, she wouldn’t fall for Josephine’s tricks...even if her body did tense with anticipation as the woman fluttered past. And even if she did, against her wishes, fluster. “I--that---you---that’s not---” there was a huff, followed by a pout and the petulant crossing of her arms. After a moment, shaking her head, she leaned into the telescope. “In what turned out to be appropriate for the day, you can see Venus. Science tells me that one’s not a star but now I’m worried you came only to compliment them and not me and I can’t have that---” Josephine was attractive, as Deirdre was finding everyone in this damn town was. Deirdre adjusted the telescope, sure to stand as close as she could, her cold skin brushing against Josephine’s. “There. Can you see it?”

Josephine got a smile of delight out of Deirdre’s huff and puff. Her little stutter. She was flustered and it just made Josephine all the more happy. It was clear Deirdre was used to being on the other side of things and it gave Josephine joy to know she was able to turn the tables on her so easily. “Oh, how cute,” she said, tilting her head. “Venus showed up for Valentine’s day. Very on theme. Especially with how Venus is actually filled with deathly gasses and lava, and Saint Valentine was a massacre.” Josephine with kids and Josephine with adults and potential...suitors, was a completely different person. She’d learned very early on how to separate the sweet, compassionate Josephine from the true, complex being that she really was. And she’d had so much time to practice. Deirdre was leaning into her now, and Josephine could feel the coolness of her skin. Oh, definitely Fae, then. Especially with that adorable Irish accent. Josephine didn’t respond to Deirdre’s pouting, but instead just leaned over, making sure to press against Deirdre as she did, and looked through the telescope at Venus. It was bright in the sky, a pale orange dot floating between all the other stars. “Hmmmm,” Josephine hummed, as if something were wrong. She stood up, pressed her lips together, staring at Deirdre with a hand on her chin. “No, you’re definitely nicer to look at.” Leaned forward, slowly, before skirting right by her again. “How about some wine!” She offered, flipping open her basket and holding up the bottle of Rose she’d brought for the occasion. “I brought it just to share with you.”

Cute. Deirdre’s lips twitched, her body having to fight the urge to scream--in the dreadfully normal sense. She did not get called cute, she called other people cute. Josephine might have been referring to the planet, but Deirdre knew better than to deny a coded message where it lay. This was torture. Josephine was sent here to terrorize her. “Well, you know what they say about love….it’s uh---something.” The banshee relaxed a moment later, she’d take a distraction where she could find one. And here was a very tempting one. It was her fault she couldn’t focus on it. “Huh?” She snapped up as Josephine spoke again, blinking before her thoughts scrambled to center on the moment. “Right---yes---I’m---” she gulped. Josephine turned at the last minute. Definietly torture, and Deirdre was playing right into it. “The---the wine?” she suppressed a groan. “And it’d be such a shame if we didn’t enjoy that wine right this second. There’s a flaming planet in the sky and you want to drink wine. That’s fine! I love wine.” The grumble in her voice was impossible to suppress though, and she sulked her way over to Josephine. “Did you also bring glasses or am I just supposed to look and not touch?” She reached for the bottle, fingers cautious as she considered that Josephine would just snap it away. 

Deirdre was in mourning. Over what, well, that was anyone’s guess. And while Josephine took immediate notice of this, she stored that information for later. Sometimes, it was better to play the long game. She couldn’t sideline her main quest for this new development. She held the wine bottle out to Deirdre, watching her hesitate, offering her a bit of reprieve-- a show of faith, if you will-- and pushing the bottle into her hand before pulling two glasses out of the basket as well. “Love is something,” she repeated, “wise words to live by.” She moved closer over towards Deirdre, then, stopping in front of her and reaching into her front pocket to pull out the wine opener, holding it between them, close to herself. “Oh, no-- not flaming. Venus is molten. Magma. A much more painful death,” she said, before flicking the wine opener away from herself as an offer for Deirdre to take, wondering if she would move on her own this time. “You can touch,” she said again, “I don’t mind cold hands.”

Deirdre took the wine bottle, holding it to her chest with the desire that it might warm a cold heart. It didn’t, obviously, but she’d tried at least. That was more than she could say about some things. Forcing herself to focus on Josephine and only Josephine was tricky, but a dastardly beautiful face and a teasing game made it easier. Though she couldn’t say it, maybe there was something to be grateful for in the torture Josephine was giving her. “Hm, I do like painful death,” she mused, taking the wine opener with care to let her fingers brush over Josephine’s---not as much as she could have, and certainly not as much as she should have but she was working her way up to getting in the right mindset. If Josephine spared her like she was. “You’d be one of two people not to,” she sighed, uncorking the bottle and making sure to pop it away from any pretty faces. “But I’ll remember that for when we get to the part of the night where we hold hands and sacrifice rabbits to appease Venus’ magma.” She tossed the wine opener on to the blanket, eager to free up her hands. Then held the bottle out, ready to pour. “The glasses?”

Deirdre was pouting. Which meant her mind was elsewhere and Josephine wasn’t going to have that. She was of the mind that if you were doing something with someone, all your attention should be there. If you were distracted, then you either needed to refocus your attention or stop what you were doing. And Josephine didn’t want Deirdre to stop. She’d invited her out here, and Josephine was going to hold her to that. The cold fingers brushing hers helped. It was hard to tell a fae species just by cold touch, seeing as they were all cold to the touch-- at least the more humanoid ones were. She gave a smile, one hazel eye and one brown eye shining in the moonlight as she took a step back to let Deirdre open the wine bottle. “Then that makes two of us,” she said, giving a slight nod. She separated the glasses-- one in each hand-- and held them up once the bottle was open. “Only one of two? I almost feel special. Oh, so we are doing the sacrifice tonight? I thought you’d never ask,” she said, another innocent smile. “This will be a nude sacrifice, won’t it? I don’t think I know any other way to do it.” A shrug, as she held out one glass, tapping it against the wine bottle. “Hurry, I wanna show you what else I brought.”

The idea of nudity was always alluring to a fae. Deirdre wasn’t sure if the desire to be nude was one learned or innate, but she hardly thought it mattered. She poured rosé with a steady hand, an even amount into both glasses, and smirked as Josephine went on. “And I thought you’d never ask, these clothes were starting to get suffocating and is there such a thing as a clothed sacrifice?” Josephine was nice, an easy air about her. Clearly conversation and its nuances came to her with ease, she might have categorized the woman as the sort someone could just fall into if she wasn’t half sure Josephine was working some angle here. Of course, she assumed the angle was just sex but even under her bravado she did wonder why a local would ever agree to go to a cemetery. “Alright, alright,” she tucked the bottle under her arm, taking one of the two now filled wine glasses from Josephine, “getting a little impatient, are we? Don’t you want to take your time, watch the stars, get to know each other...” The banshee smirked, it had taken a while but she could feel herself working back into her usual groove---albeit undercut with excitement for this something else. “What is it?” She asked, eagerly peering over. 

Josephine took the glass that Deirdre handed to her. “Oh, well, if you want to take it slow, then, who am I to say no to that?” She tapped her glass against Deirdre’s before taking a sip and going back over to the telescope, making sure to stay close to Deirdre as she did, leaning back in and using her free hand to adjust its gaze. She pointed it directly at the moon, the waning full moon still sitting gently in the sky like a lightbulb that was simply running out of power. Josephine stood back up, took another sip. “Don’t you ever just feel so energized by the moon?” She looked back over at Deirdre, shifting. “So, you’re from Ireland, then? Since we’re doing the whole…” gestured with the wine glass in her hand as if thinking, “getting to know you, thing. Not a lot of Irish people in Maine, usually.”  Deirdre was more focused on her now, and Josephine loosened her gaze a bit. “Got a big family back there?”

Deirdre took a slow, delicate sip of the translucent pink liquid. The sweetness coated her mouth, and her tongue darted out to catch the stray drops against her lips. She’d never admit to a sweet-tooth, but it’d be hard to deny to the person she hounded about pie flavors. “Okay…” she rolled her eyes. “No, I can’t say the moon energizes me. If you start peddling off crystals to me I’m taking this rosé and leaving.” Crystals, don’t think about those. Deirdre shook her head. This was her fault, she shouldn’t have made that damn comment about going slow. Josephine said there was something else, and now they were talking about moon energies as Deirdre found herself right back to the start in childish huffing. She set the bottle of wine down, best she could without getting it to tip over. “Aye, not a lot of Irish people here,” she blinked, the question ringing in her ears. That was the sort of thing she asked when trying to work out fae heritage. “Are you going to ask me about an iron allergy too?” She turned her body completely towards the other woman, taking another slow sip of her drink. If Josephine was a warden, this would make a lot more sense. Thankfully, Deirdre always carried a knife and thankfully this wouldn’t be her first close brush with a fae hunter. “That sort of thing,” she leaned closer, a devilish smirk on her lips and a dare sitting behind brown eyes, “puts a girl on edge.” 

Now things were getting exciting. Josephine didn’t move, just grinned back at Deirdre as she leaned in. “Crystals aren’t really my style,” she shrugged, “I don’t need something to help me feel powerful.” A matching grin to Deirdre’s, as she took another sip of her own wine. Watching Deirdre’s eyes as she talked. “You know…” she said, chewing on her bottom lip, “it was on my list. I was going to wait a little longer to drop that shoe, though. You know, you’re giving me mixed signals, Deirdre.” Definitely fae. If only she had the ability to just tell what kind. The power she could have to lord over her right now was so enticing if she could just come out and say it. But female, Irish, affinity for cemeteries. She could take a leap. It was likely Deirdre was thinking Josephine was some sort of hunter, but the thought didn’t bother her. Josephine had no opinions on people based on their species. She blinked. “Why? Does the question make you wanna...scream?” she murmured, her voice low, a smile still on her lips.

Wardens were terrible, despicable and useless creatures, but they could be so fun to taunt. Deirdre smiled, set in her deduction of Josephine, a little disappointed she’d have to kill someone so beautiful but the world was full of tragedies. “You want me to scream so soon? I thought we were taking our time,” she breathed out, not a hint of anger or fear in her voice. Wardens had a nasty yet convenient habit of underestimating banshees, this was bound to be the same. “You know,” she pulled one of several knives she kept on her person at all times with a slow and practiced motion, the one on her back being the biggest, and pressed the titanium blade gently into Josephine’s shirt. Not enough to hurt, and in a position she knew to be easily disarmable, but just enough to send the message she wanted. “Why? Do you want me to scream? Because I’d rather hear you do it.”

So she’d been right. Deirdre was a banshee and she thought Josephine was a warden. To some, this might have been a dangerous game to play, but with a knife that small and scream that could only burst ear drums, Josephine wasn’t in any danger. Therefore, the game wasn’t dangerous. Just fun. Her eyes didn’t even acknowledge the knife being drawn. Didn’t even move when the knife was pressed against her shirt, on her chest. Instead, she lifted her wine glass and took another sip. A simple gesture that spoke a thousand words-- she wasn’t afraid, and she wasn’t going to try and stop her. Because imagine the look on Deirdre’s face when blood met skin and nothing happened. Josephine swallowed, slowly, licked her lips. “Do it,” she finally said, holding up her free arm. “I promise I won’t move.”

Typical warden, underestimating her and her kind. A banshee scream could be deadly, and Deirdre knew just how. But Deirdre had to be smart. She couldn’t kill a woman she made very public plans with, and at any rate, she liked to play a little with the hunters first and this one seemed so willing to play. The promise was an interesting one, binding herself in a cocky display that even despite the woman’s hunter-background, Deirdre found herself impressed with. She lifted the knife up, pressing the cold blade into the woman’s cheek, harder and harder until a drop of blood spilled across the grey metal. “I don’t like doing what I’m told,” the banshee responded, she couldn’t kill Josephine, so there was no point in laying all her cards out. “What’s got you so cheeky, hm? Not a warden then, are we?” She drew the blade back, holding Josephine’s blood on the tip, tilting it just to watch moonlight catch on the droplet. In one motion she wiped the blood against the woman’s shirt. Deirdre was good with a blade, knew how much pressure to apply to get the results she wanted, moving her blade around the fabric of Josephine’s shirt was a ploy to show off a portion of her skill as much as it was an attempt to clean her blade---a shirt undamaged other than the blood that stained it. “Weren’t we supposed to get to know each other?”

Josephine just waited. The blade was cool against her skin, but it felt less like a cut, and more like a pinch. Cynthia had informed Josephine of this effect-- that pain would be duller, easier to handle. And that healing would be a snap. Though not instantaneous, a small cut like this would heal within the minute. She frowned slightly. “You know, I just bought this shirt,” she said, shaking her head. “Hmm? Oh, yes! We were.” She reached up and wiped the remaining blood off her cheek, moving as if to wipe it on her shirt as well, but snatching Deirdre’s bare hand instead, smearing a quick line across her skin. “I don’t know, why don’t you tell me? Since I already sussed out what you are.” She sipped her glass of wine again. The cut was completely gone now, just a smearing of blood on her shirt to show proof that anything weird had happened at all. “I like you, Deirdre,” she said finally, leaning back against the grave stone they’d set up next to. “You’re bold. And attractive. Two of my favorite things in a person.” Another sip. “And you like pie. What more could a girl ask for.”

Deirdre switched her glass into the hand that held the knife, wanting to free up her hand as she simply watched Josephine. She allowed the woman to snatch her hand, not making a move to draw it back even as she knew the outcome. The iron in her blood burned against Deirdre’s pale flesh. The initial sting garnered a soft hiss and a clenched jaw, though she made no move to wipe it off---stubborn in her desire to prove something. The moonlight served as a perfect backdrop to watching the tiny cut fade off Josephine’s face like magic. She reached out, running her thumb along the spot the cut once laid. Not a warden. Though hunter wasn’t completely off the table. In honesty, she was lost. Josephine’s skin ran hot, and Deirdre was truly only familiar with recognizing the signs of the species she cared about---none of which Josephine seemed to be. “I like you, Josephine” she said, laying her palm flat against Josephine’s face, the blood on her hand dulling into a throbbing pain. “You’re clever and daring.” She pulled her hand back, finally wiping the blood off on her jeans, though the pain still lingered. “Whatever you are, I like it. But I can’t be expected to keep up with all the species that are out there. Was the crap about you being energized by the moon anything?”

Josephine let Deirdre take her time. Watching her eyes as they landed on the side of her face where the cut had been. Watching her hand as she placed it gently on her cheek. Deirdre’s hands were like ice, and Josephine’s skin puckered slightly at the touch, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. She smiled again, leaning her cheek into Deirdre’s touch as she laid her palm flat on her cheek. “Glad we’re on the same page,” she said once Deirdre pulled her hand away. “Here,” she said, moving past Deirdre again, taking a large swig to empty her glass, and setting it next to the wine bottle. She dug around in her purse before pulling out a little sterile pad, standing back up and taking Deirdre’s burned hand with hers. “I don’t know, you tell me. Do I seem like someone who changes with the rising moon?” She wiped the cool pad along Deirdre’s hand where the blood had been, slowly, lingering, letting fingers brush along her knuckles. “Am I feral and raw? Or refined and collected?” She looked up into Deirdre’s eyes. “How fast can normal people heal a wound? Even a tiny cut. Don’t they usually linger or scar, etched onto fragile bodies?” She finished wiping her hand and let go, depositing the used pad into a baggy and back into her purse. “So...who needs more wine?” she asked, grinning.

Oh, definitely not a warden. They’d sooner die than help a fae. Deirdre held her hand out, palm up, head tilted as she observed the enigma. She liked games, she likes mysteries. Of course, she liked being on the other side of this tango a lot better but this wasn’t the worst position to be in. “Hm,” she hummed, the coolness of the pad centering her thoughts solely on Josephine. Even as much as she liked puzzles to work out, she knew her faults better. She suspected Josephine knew too, the impossibility of puzzling out her identity with the clues at hand. Did she revel in pain? Did she delight in making someone squirm? Deridre flexed her fingers, tipping back her glass and downing the rest of her wine in one fluid motion. “You burn my hand and then you tend to it. Kind and cruel in one breath. You’re not a werewolf. You’re not a siren in anything more than metaphor,” the banshee smiled, warm and with the end quirked up in a half-smirk. “You’re not human. Not anymore, I don’t think. You’re not undead. You’re not fae. My expertise ends there.” As much as it pained her to admit. Deirdre moved closer, her head tilted up to look at Josephine from over the tip of her nose. She wasn’t much taller than the woman, but fae pride had its way of carrying itself. “Whatever you are. It’s rare,” she rasped, leaning in before snapping back and holding her glass between them. “I’d love more wine, personally. Pour me some?”

The mention of siren made Josephine’s face twitch in involuntary irritability. It was a sore spot, still, but she’d been trying her best to move on. “Not cruel, no,” she said, picking up the bottle of wine and going back over to Deirdre. She tipped it, pouring more into her glass, before pouring some more for herself. She kept hold of the bottle once she was done, however, and stared at Deirdre evenly. That fae pride really was something, wasn’t it? It seemed to be a common trait among most fae. That pride that they were, truly, the top species on earth. Josephine took another sip of wine. She didn’t care much for the feud between human and fae, because she wasn’t a part of it. She assumed, though, that it was of importance to Deirdre. “Just trying to prove a point.” She sipped her new glass of wine, the sparkly bubbles coating her throat. Her heart was pounding a bit, and she couldn’t deny her attraction to Deirdre. It was hard getting attached to people when you were going to live forever, but banshee had at least a longer lifespan than a human. She, finally, relaxed herself and smiled sweetly. “Well, then, I suppose you’ll just have to keep guessing, for now,” she said, swirling her glass. “So is this how you usually treat a woman on the first date? Stargazing and wine, a plus. Threatening them with knives? I’d like to know how that usually goes over.”

Perception was its own curse. Deirdre wouldn’t comment on Josephine’s snap of an expression change, but she noted it all the same. A question about sirens to be logged away for a possible future where she cared enough to ask. “So burning my hand isn’t an act of cruelty?” No, it was a point to be proved and Deirdre smiled. “I like the way you think.” There was a car and a zombie she pushed that could testify for her taste in dramatic idea rearing. “Oh, only the good ones, Josephine.” She grinned, the glass switching between her hands again so she could flip her knife with a flourish and catch it by the tip of its blade as it fell back down. She knocked the hilt against Josephine’s shoulder; did hollow bones make a different sound? Probably not. “So this is a date now? On Valentine’s? Do you like your clichés?” She hummed again, coating her mouth with another sip of sweet wine. “But don’t women enjoy a little danger?” Deirdre flipped the knife again, switching to tapping the blade against the woman’s shoulder. “Do you normally burn people on first dates? I bet playing nurse to injuries you caused has its own charm.” Curiosity flared up in her again; emotions, as much as she hated them, were something she hadn’t exactly mastered how to quell. The more seconds that ticked between them, the more she was starting to like Josephine. Something about her was very, very different. “We’ve also spent very little time actually stargazing. I’d say we should fix that but you’re a much better sight.” 

Josephine’s eyes didn’t much feel like looking at anything else now except Deirdre. Not even the flipping knife-- as impressive as it was that she managed to catch it without cutting herself-- was enough to draw her eyes away. The tap on her shoulder made her smile. Her head tilting to the side in that way that could make a face such as hers seem soft and innocent. “Oh, I love clichés. I work with teenagers, I wade through clichés all day long. I can’t help but love them. Do you just always invite people out to the cemetery to stargaze, then? If this isn’t a date and you don’t like your clichés?” she replied, giving a small pout. “I can’t help that I have such a caring nature. Maybe playing nurse is what really gets me going-- even if I have to make the opportunity myself.” Josephine enjoyed feeling the emotions flitting through Deirdre. It seemed she had a hard time controlling them, which told Josephine she wasn’t used to letting them come up. So whatever anger, whatever resent was settling deep in her heart, Josephine was going to have to work to bring out. But, she was okay with that. She didn’t mind taking her time with things, and Deirdre seemed worth the effort. All she wanted to do was help, after all. The world didn’t need more cruelty, but that didn’t mean it didn’t need playful deviance. “You know,” she finally said, taking a sip of her wine, letting  some of it wet her lips, so that she could draw her tongue across it slowly, “I think I’m okay with that. I’ve got my eye on something much prettier than the stars.”

“I find myself inviting people out to cemeteries with increasing frequency,” Deirdre hummed softly, her gaze darting between Josephine’s lips and her eyes. What was she saying? Something about clichés? Should Deirdre have been paying attention to that? She wouldn’t have been ashamed to admit her mind wondered elsewhere. What Josephine was saying felt important, somehow, maybe that was just the way she spoke. Like everything mattered, or that it could. “Making opportunities for yourself…” was that another clue? Deirdre tilted her head as she puzzled through it. It was, however, extremely hard to think about anything but a growing desire clawing its way through her. The banshee tucked the knife away, using the newly freed hand to tug on the end of Josephine’s shirt, rolling the fabric under her fingers. Her eyes watched every movement of Josephine’s tongue. Riddle be damned, she was right about one thing. Whatever Josephine was, it was rare. Very rare. Not a phoenix. Not a siren. Not a mara. Not human. Not fae. Not undead. What did that leave? “Something prettier than the stars?” She smirked, “oh? Like Venus? Venus is so pretty, isn’t it?” Deirdre tipped back the rest of her wine too. “How long do you live?” She blurted the moment after.  

Josephine quite enjoyed watching Deirdre try to parse out exactly what she was. It would be too easy just to tell her, after all. She smiled when a hand tugged idly on her shirt, taking the gesture and stepping forward slightly. She was enthralled with Deirdre’s eyes stuck on her lips, her face. A girl had needs, after all, and immortality or not, Josephine was one of them. Josephine gave another gentle smile, lifting the wine bottle once Deirdre had emptied her glass for the second time, and pouring more in. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s rude to ask a girl about her mortality?” she said, watching the glass fill rather than giving Deirdre the pleasure of looking at her. Once it was filled, she emptied the rest into her own glass (a pity that wine bottles only offered four glasses) and tossed the empty bottle over onto the blanket before taking a hearty sip. “Or lack thereof.” She used her free hand to trace up Deirdre’s arm that was tugging on her shirt, till it reached her shoulder, where she rest her arm. “Venus’ got nothing on what I’m looking at right now,” she finally said, eyes burning as they looked into Deirdre’s.

Josephine was good with her words, Deirdre figured she’d make an excellent fae...if only they were made, not born. The banshee smiled; there was something she didn’t say about clichés and one she felt herself drawn into--Josephine’s eyes were the sort to get lost in, a voice that dripped like chocolate and the sharpness of a mind that hung like a dagger over it. She didn’t think Josephine would hurt her, but knowing she was oh so capable of it was part of the fun. Her hand burned as it trailed up Deirdre’s skin, a reaction due to Deirdre’s cold flesh and its usual distance from physicality than the temperature of Josephine’s. “Sorry, I’ll be more careful next time,” the banshee leaned in, wine all but forgotten in her hand as hot breath spilled across flesh. “If you grant wishes, there’s one I’m thinking of right now.” A stab in the dark, but then again, that was what her literal stab had been too. Her eyes, caught in the fire of Josephine’s, flickered down to her lips again just as her fingers tightened around the fabric of Josephine’s shirt.

In reality, 64 years wasn’t a long time to be alive. In fact, on the grand scale of things-- like living for eternity-- 64 years was little to nothing. A blip on the radar of life. But in all her years, Josephine had never met someone quite like Deirdre. She liked it, this little game they were playing. The guessing game, the threat of a knife, barely more than a child’s toy between them, the flirtation. Deirdre was definitely someone Josephine wanted to get to know more. In both a physical and metaphorical sense. Fae were rarely so open about themselves, and while Deirdre wasn’t screaming (yet), she seemed a little more pliable than most of the fae Josephine had rallied with back in Portland. Josephine didn’t care much for the wine in her hand anymore, but it seemed a waste to dump it out. She close into Deirdre now, their bodies all but pressed against each other, took the glass of wine from Deirdre’s hand, and set the two glasses on top of the headstone behind them. Telescope, wine, and stars forgotten, Josephine leaned in and finally pressed her lips against Deirdre’s. Pulled away after only a small moment and said, “Your wish is my command.”