#and am used to people being insensitive that at this point my bar is so low at just. try to be funny about it at least

[milfygerard]

didnt you literally call it fascist santa claus earlier

yeah cause i think fascist santa clause is a funny sentence. dictator gerard is lazy, wheres the flavor the panache the wondering why his military uniform is bright blinding red cmon get some detail in there yknow get a punchline

[kizzyking]

I've been forcing myself to read a terrible book, with the help of a friend, because I spent to much on it not to read it. I've been reading it aloud to my friend and we've been discussing all of the things we hate about it, one of which is that the author named a group of people 'shamanfolk' and their magic users 'shaman' then made them violent extremist outsiders experiencing genocide. I need to share a conversation we just had about it. The conversation turned to Avatar the last Airbender because the book was advertised as "a fantasy book for people who like zuko/katara vibes, written in a brandonesque way"

Here is the Convo;

(me) I found good words for why the use of 'shaman' in this book upsets me, beyond the way it uses an existing word with cultural ties extremely inappropriately

(me) This part of a post is from Tumblr explains it; If you want to make a metaphor for racism, you have to remember that racism is literally based on nothing. Africans weren’t enslaved en masse because the Robo-Musa threatened to destroy the world, they were enslaved because it was economically rewarding and politically convenient. If at any point your allegory for racism includes “so <oppressed group> did this major catastrophe and” then you have not only missed the point but you are literally reinforcing the ideas that racism have let racism self-perpetuate (that e.g. black people are naturally dangerous and violent and must be contained or begrudgingly accepted by the Nice White People)

(Friend) But its not even used only as an insult Its literally the only word used for them

(me) I might have phrased poorly, I mean that I felt my issue with using shaman to label a group of people went beyond just the insensitivity of using a real word that isn't his and using it incorrectly. I've now realized that it made it hard for me to get distracted from the racist undertones through the book

(Friend) Ah yes I understand, Its the white "romanticism" of it

(me) Yeah exactly, leaning way to heavy on the perspective some people have of zuko being kataras oppressor

In my opinion

I don't think he has the skills to back up what he's planning, like having an engaging romance and working to improve the society

(Friend) Kataras "oppressors" is the entire watertribe as a whole. What do they mean its Zuko?

(me) Do you mean fire nation? And the men in their society in general perpetuating misogyny but the ones actually killing them are zukos people. But not zuko himself!(unlike migo) the main pushback I see against zutara online is from people of color who feel that katara would never fall for a fire kingdom prince of she respects herself and that anyone who thinks she would has drank too much white savior koolaid

(Friend) Did you forget how sexist Soka was in the beginning? He didn't think Katara could do anything or be a good bender because she was a girl. And did you forget how when they went to the Northern Watertribe, she was completely barred from learning fighting?

(me) You're right that there are many forms of oppression throughout the show, from all sides really. I just meant to clarify that 'opressor' is referring to the fire nation specifically within the specific complaints people make against zutara.

(me) Also I'd say personally, I believe that word refers to the ruling class subjugating a people, not every ism within intersectional bias

(Friend) I honestly don't have the energy to debate over a kids show

That's where the conversation ended but I am still very frustrated by it the next day and if anyone has an opinion I'd love to hear it. I felt like my friend riled me up and then cut it off when I didn't agree with them and left me with so many questions

[muttfangs]

processing shiiiiiiiiiiiiiit and rantiiiiinnnnggg👍

rrrghhhhhhgh I'm trying to do better by myself and others by being an effective communicator and being less "rigid" and "stubborn" but fffffffffrrghh one of my close irl friends is just **SO** incredibly annoying it's astounding at times. I love him but he REALLLLLYYY pisses me off sometimes with how obtuse and insensitive he is. for context he is a white-passing trans man. incredibly neoliberal. twink. conventionally attractive. I mention the above descriptors bc he's super insensitive and shallow in regards to how ppl look at times. he will occasionally bring up how he's happy his transphobic brother is "fat" and how he "looks better than him now". speaking to me. a fat dude. and I understand you hate your brother (he's a huge piece of shit!) but theres a ZILION things you could pick him apart for... and you chose his appearance? while speaking to me, someone who looks like him? and every time I catch him saying gross superficial shit I say "hey, that isn't fair to rag on someone's appearance" he PUSHES BACK AT ME LIKE??? BRO. YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HOW HURTFUL THIS IS TO HEAR FROM YOU. EVEN IF IT ISN'T ABOUT ME DIRECTLY. YOU ARE STILL SAYING FAT AND BALD PEOPLE ARE UGLY. I AM BOTH. he also just like... doesn't want to listen to anyone's opinion if they feel differently from him regarding gender / politics. I attempt to open dialogues with him about leftist theory... and thinking deeper... but he thinks he's right no matter what and just digs his heels in and metaphorically plugs his ears and goes LALALALA and it's??? quite frankly infuriating for example: i've told him multiple times at this point that I'm not comfortable in sapphic spaces. I am a dude. I look like a dude. I sound like a dude. I'm gnc but I use he / him. and I don't want to be invasive in spaces meant for lesbians. it feels super awkward and upsetting (AND REALLY WEIRD.....) when there's "parties" that are for """"AFAB people only"""" and he asks me to go w/ him????????? like uhh...... this is gender reductionist theory 101. what are they gonna do like. check ppl's junk at the door? make you bring a copy of your birth certificate? that's fucking weird, man. he invited me to another one when I was at our mutual friends place last week saying "this one is different! no cis men allowed!!" and it just makes me stop and think for a moment like... how do you quantify cisness....? I look unclockable. I look cis. would I not be allowed in even though I'm trans? would they not allow me in until I showed them I have a cunt? like what is the fucking thought process here, bro? clearly every time you try to invite me to these like fuckin terfy ass VAGINA HAVERZ ONLY parties I get really uncomfortable so ??? why do you keep asking??? why do you not listen to me when I tell you it's fuckin WEIRD to be exclusionary like that?? why not instead have a "no transphobes allowed" rule instead (WHICH MAKES WAY MORE SENSE???? THAN NO CIS MEN????)?? ... like I hate to beat on my fuckin drum about gender theory adn whatever... but barring "cis men" from these parties bars (pls excuse my language I dont have a better descriptor) AMAB eggs from exploring. it bars ppl from finding themselves. it bars cis men who maybe want to play around with their expressions or sexuality. and, needless to say it's WILDLY UNCOMFORTABLE to be reduced back down to my genitals. I'm more than just a walking cunt. I'm a complex human being. and I have ****zero**** fuckign interest being in these thinly veiled VAGINUZ ONLY TERF spaces. but he's all about that shit and doesnt care!!!! whatever!!!!!!!!!!

[the-lone-witch-and-secret-room]

On Boschlow, Skarlow and imaginary moral superiority

Alright, before anyone wants to yell at me for putting this in the ship tags, this is less an “anti ship”-post and more of an “I want to have this conversation with shippers because I think it’s important to talk about this”-post.

So, Boschlow has always been a fairly popular ship in the fandom, which doesn’t really surprise me, because the whole bully/victim dynamic is just incredibly popular, no matter which fandom you enter.

As a person that got bullied throughout the majority of my high school years, I have thoughts about this dynamic being so popular in general, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss today.

Recently, there has been an increasing number of Skarlow shippers making art and writing fics.

What makes this so different from Boschlow?

Essentially... nothing, and that’s exactly why I felt the need to make a post about this.

I’ve seen a bunch of Skarlow shippers say they do not ship Boschlow because Boscha is an awful person, putting themselves above the Boschlow shippers and making Skarlow a “superior” dynamic, based on... what, exactly?

From my perspective, there’s exactly two things Skara has on Boscha when it comes to shipping her with Willow. One being, she hasn’t thrown trash on her—which is an incredibly low bar to set.

The other thing? Skara acknowledged Willow’s Grudgby skills at the end of WILW.

And that’s a scene that gets misinterpreted a lot. See, people take Skara being nice to Willow here as a sign that she’s a way better person than Boscha, that she’s changed, and so on and so forth.

But this is untrue.

What exactly is it that changes between the beginning of WILW and the ending of the episode, between Willow and Skara specifically? It’s that Skara has seen Willow is good at Grudgby. Grudgby is something of value to Skara, thus, Willow’s skills impressing her makes Willow someone worthy of being treated well.

The ending of the Grudgby episode isn’t everyone except Boscha suddenly magically being better people. They’re all still very much bullies. They’re just now seeing Willow as someone who is better than other people because of her skills—and should therefore be treated better.

Boscha isn’t as willing to share her imaginary pedestal with Willow. But that’s the only difference. All the Grudgby girls are currently still on that pedestal. They’re just seeing Willow as someone worth sharing it with now. If they saw someone being “weak” the way they thought Willow to be previously to the match, they’d bully that person the same way they did Willow.

This isn’t any of them being better. This is all of them behaving the same way they always have. Willow is just moving up in their social hierarchy.

It shouldn’t take being good at some magical sport, or being a talented witch, or whatever the heck, to decide not to bully someone. NOBODY deserves to be bullied. Even the weakest, least sporty witch of the Boiling Isles should be treated with the same amount of respect as any of their classmates. Your value as a person shouldn’t be defined by how good you are at something. You have value no matter what you are and aren’t good at. And that’s something Skara and the others still fail to acknowledge.

Also I think it’s worth noting that even when they were treating Willow better at the end of the episode, they didn’t go out of their way to apologize for how they’d treated her before. They acknowledged her skills and don’t at all comment on how they treated her previously to the match.

If it takes some huge effort from Willow and her friends for the Grudgby girls to treat her with even an ounce of respect, that’s not character development. Character development would be them changing their general behavior. Acknowledging the way they’ve treated others was shitty, apologizing for that and actually working on being better. Is there a possibility this might happen? Sure. But you guys basically pretend WILW is their redemption arc already fully done. You’re giving Skara and the others credit for something that currently haven’t even happened.

And the option of them ditching Boscha (which also currently hasn’t happened) wouldn’t be a redemption arc either, even if it could be part of one.

Cutting toxic people out of your life can help, but Amity’s redemption arc was that, plus her explaining herself to Willow and giving Willow time, and actually acting on her word of not letting her friends pick on her again. Amity making it up to Willow wasn’t that she cut out Boscha and Skara. It was that she not only promised to be better but acted accordingly, standing at Willow’s side when she needed her.

(And Skara not constantly being a dipshit when she’s in the background is not a valid argument for why she’s a better person than Boscha. Boscha is also a harmless character when the episode isn’t focused on her, e.g. in Covention & Sense and Insensitivity. That Skara isn’t actively bullying her friends—which, uh, most people like their friends? This shouldn’t be that surprising?—is not a thing that should earn her any points in being “nicer” than Boscha.)

Do I think it might be a bit easier to get through to Skara than Boscha when it comes to letting go of current behaviors? Possibly.

From the way their characters are written and with how Boscha refuses to acknowledge Willow as equal even after the Grudgby match, it’s fairly obvious that it would need some pretty major event to get through to her. There’s an extra step here with Boscha (needing to learn to acknowledge others as having equal value to herself) that Skara doesn’t need to take.

BUT that one step in what should be a fairly long journey for either of them is far from enough to justify one ship being better than the other.

From the way I’ve seen it written (and unfortunately also experienced it in the comment section of my own fic), a bunch of skarlow shippers like to excuse Skara’s behavior by entirely pinning it on Boscha, pretending she’s actually a great person and that it’s only her friendship with Boscha that makes her toxic—and also that Boscha is the only one that should be held accountable for everyone’s behavior.

I am not exaggerating, I got a comment that essentially said “this shows wonderfully that Amelia and Skara are actually good people that unfortunately met a horrible person that had too much control over them.”

This strips Skara and Amelia of any accountability for their actions. And the idea of Boscha being an evil mastermind that forced all her friends into doing things they never wanted is... quite frankly, stupid, and also untrue. Skara actively encourages Boscha making fun of Willow at the beginning of Understanding Willow:

In the same episode it’s also stated that Amity “let her new friends bully [Willow] for years”, which definitely includes Skara and isn’t just about Boscha.

Skara looks really pleased when Boscha takes Willow’s hair clip at the beginning of WILW, just appears bored and not at all sympathetic when she throws gum at Willow, and grins gleefully when Boscha suggests using the others as target practice later in the episode:

Also, in Once Upon A Swap, Boscha’s entire squad is messing with people all over Bonesborough. Skara is throwing monster balloons at the city when Boscha isn’t even present:

Not only that, but a very large portion of the episode has Skara and the others literally ditch Boscha in favor of an even meaner person (King in Luz’s body).

King states, and I quote, “Hey, impressionable youths! Under my command, you could learn how to do some real damage.” after unleashing a monster on the city. And the entire group cheers him on and decides to follow him.

If Skara was actually so much better than Boscha, why the heck would she run after someone that is worse than her when given the opportunity?

And here comes the thing that a lot of the Skarlow shippers refuse to acknowledge because they for some reason feel the need to have moral superiority over Boschlow shippers: Skara isn’t a nice girl. Skara is a bully. And Skara should be held accountable for her actions in the same way as Boscha. Saying everything she did was just Boscha forcing her is entirely untrue to canon and just a lame excuse to make your ship look better.

Boscha and Skara have both bullied Willow for several years. If you want to ship either of them with her, even if you just want one of them to be friends with her, that needs to be acknowledged and definitely not excused. Even if you treat Skara’s bullying of Willow as something she did only due to Boscha (which, again, is canonically complete nonsense), she’s still hurt Willow to pretty much the same extent as Boscha has.

That a person isn’t as into the bullying as someone else doesn’t make it hurt any less for the victim of the bullying.

No matter if you ship Skarlow or Boschlow, commit to the reality that Skara and Boscha are both Willow’s bullies. Quit pretending Skara is so much better than Boscha, or that she isn’t responsible for her actions.

She is just as responsible for bullying Willow for years as Boscha is.

I’m so sick of hearing how Skara’s bullying is far more redeemable than Boscha’s. It’s not. Stop declaring bullying that doesn’t get physical harmless. As someone who was “only” ever verbally bullied, let me tell you that after four years of not seeing that person I’m still scarred by it. Stop getting your head so stuck in high school movies. Just because not every kind of bullying involves someone getting shoved into a locker doesn’t mean it’s not harmful.

Even worse: the take that people are shipping Skarlow “because they realized shipping Willow with Boscha is inherently toxic”. Tell me again why this “revolutionary” movement deciding that Willow deserves better then turns around and ships her with another one of her bullies?

This isn’t about treating Willow better. You’re just making Boscha seem unreasonably evil for no reason, and treating Skara as her not at all responsible victim, so you can ship Willow with her and don’t have to acknowledge that Willow is a victim of both of their bullying.

This needs to stop. Skara needs to be held just as accountable as Boscha.

If a Skarlow shipper exclusively comes from a perspective of “I think their personalities would mix better”? Sure, whatever, they may or may not, but that’s a valid opinion to have. But don’t start shipping Skarlow because you think you’re being better to Willow than the Boschlow shippers.

This whole thing isn’t a movement to get Willow a better girlfriend, lol

Both of them bullied her. Both ships are bully/victim dynamics. Skarlow does not actually have any moral superiority over Boschlow. As much as you refuse to acknowledge this, these two ships share the same basic dynamic.

Stop pretending shipping Willow with one of her bullies is leagues better than shipping her with another.

[spine-buster]

peaceful easy feeling ft. b.boeser | three

A/N: Thanks again for your positive feedback on this mini-series!  Please keep those canon questions coming as you guys know I loooove answering them to help build the canon!  This one is a short one but it will be made up for by the last two chapters.

CONTENT WARNING: parents with disease/sickness (Parkinson’s); swearing; sex; alcohol use; lots of emotions.

                                                                 *     *     *     *     *

Brock and Grace were having fun.  Actual, genuine, real fun.  Whenever they were together, they were smiling and laughing and kissing and having a good time.  They’d go out to eat at Vancouver’s best restaurants.  They’d take walks in parks or along the seawall.  They’d get coffee at cute little cafés and munch on bespoke cookies or donuts that would make Brock complain about extra hours in the gym.  They’d invite Elias and Svea with them and it would be great, because they were great, and they’d all just be constantly laughing.  Grace and Svea got closer – much closer.  Elias and Brock were tearing it up for the Canucks.  Grace and Svea would go to bars for a glass of wine before going to games together.  They’d cheer and clap and sing along with all the songs being blasted throughout the arena.

Fun.  Life was fun.  

***

“How do I bite it?!” Brock was incredulous at the size of the cupcake Grace got him.  It was bigger than his jaw could open.  Elias and Svea were already ready with their damn phones to film him.  “I can’t…” he tried to bring it up to his mouth.

“Just put the whole thing in your mouth!” Grace exclaimed.

“That’s what she said,” Elias mumbled, only to garner a disapproving mother look from Brock and a slap on the arm from Svea.  “What!  Isn’t that the joke?!”

“Don’t be crass,” Svea chastised before focusing her attention back on Brock.  “Just bite the thing, Brock.  Just…just stuff it in there,” he pretended to do the motion herself.

“Again, that’s what she said.”

Grace hit Elias too this time.  

***

“You can get us reservations to Hawksworth?” Svea asked in shock.  

Grace nodded casually, like it was the easiest thing in the world to get a reservation at Vancouver’s best and most exclusive restaurant.  “The Gillespie’s own the Rosewood Hotel Georgia.”

“You do?”

Grace nodded again before sucking back on an oyster.  “When do you want to eat there?”

“Oh, I – I don’t know.  Can I get back to you?”

“Of course!  Just let me know.”

“Wow Grace,” Svea said.  “You really do have the world at your fingertips.  Vancouver especially.”

Grace shrugged her shoulders.  “It’s a blessing and a curse.  I can’t go anywhere without running into someone that knows my dad or knows who I am and thinks they know me.  It’s even worse when they knew my dad a long time ago and only ask about how he’s doing with his Parkinson’s now.  Most of the time they don’t even truly care.  And I’d trade it all in, every single penny, if it meant my dad never got Parkinson’s.”

Svea couldn’t imagine living that kind of life.  She didn’t know how Grace did it – or Brock, for that matter.  She would be a sobbing mess on the floor every single day.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to be insensitive when I—”

“Oh God no.  No no no – you don’t need to apologize.  I just…” Grace paused, trying to collect her thoughts.  “I know how fortunate I am, believe me.  I just don’t think people know that – that I know I’m fortunate.  But Parkinson’s – any chronic illness – it really humbles you.  Most people don’t know what that’s like.  And like, thank God they don’t.  But they think they know.”

All Svea could do was nod her head and listen.

***

Whenever Brock sent a text that said ‘come over and watch a movie’ Grace knew what that really meant.  But instead of finding it lewd, she’d slather on some raspberry chapstick and be on her merry way to Brock’s apartment.

When they were done, and lying in bed together, with her head on his chest and her hair sprawled everywhere, that’s when the talking would begin.  “How’s your dad doing?”  “Are the new round of meds working?”  “Is he having more trouble getting up now?”  “What are the doctors saying?”  “How’s his memory?”  “How’s the swallowing?”  “Are the doctors recommending speech therapy?”  

“When I quit dance, my dad was so disappointed,” Grace revealed one night as Brock was running his hands through her hair.  “It was the only thing I was ever really, really good at.  I wasn’t the best in school.  I just didn’t get things the way other kids did.  And when I told him the reason, he made me promise I’d keep doing dance in some capacity.  I maybe wouldn’t do it super-competitively anymore with him driving me all around BC and flying me all over Canada and the US to attend competitions, but I’d still do it.  That’s why I teach at the Goh Ballet.  Like…I know I’m not the smartest girl in the world, but I like to think I have a big heart.  And I just hope that people see that.”

“I wear number six because it was my dad’s number,” Brock revealed too, one night when they were alone.  “I wanted…I wanted to make sure that if he wasn’t around, my career would still honour him in some way.  I want that to be my legacy…like, everything I do, I do for my dad.”

Grace nodded.  She completely understood.  “I don’t think I’ve ever met a person who knows and understands exactly what I’m going through,” she said.  “Do you think it was fate that brought us together at that meeting?”

Brock found himself nodding his head automatically.  “Of course,” he said softly.

***

“I’m sorry we couldn’t have you at the house for dinner, Brock, but our chef is on vacation,” Eliza Carmichael, Grace’s mom, smiled from across the table as she sipped on her glass of wine.  From beside her, her husband, Grace’s step-dad James kept perusing the menu, as did Grace’s two step-brothers, Jasper and Theo, who were seated at opposite heads of the table.  

“Oh that’s no problem at all,” he smiled politely, grabbing Grace’s hand underneath the table and squeezing it gently before putting it in his lap.  “I actually come here with the boys sometimes.  The food here is amazing.”

“It is, isn’t it?  James knows the head chef,” she said.  “Grace tells me you’re a hockey player.”

It was at that point that James put down his menu.  “Honey, he plays for the Vancouver Canucks.  We’ve been over this.”

Eliza rolled her eyes playfully before picking up her menu.  It was only at that point that Brock noticed the giant rock on her finger.  It was the size of his eyeball.  “Grace tells me you live in Shaughnessy,” he said, trying to make polite conversation.  “I hear that’s a beautiful neighbourhood.”

“Oh, it is.  Perfect place for the quiet life hockey player’s lead,” James joked.  Brock forced out a chuckle.

***

“I love this song!!!” Grace exclaimed as the DJ began to play some old school Rihanna.  She downed the rest of her drink and slapped the glass against the bar before grabbing Brock’s arm with one hand and Svea’s hand with the other, knowing that Svea would, on instinct, grab Elias’s arm and drag him to the dance floor too.

The club was completely unstuffy.  There were no girls dressed to the nines, no four-inch stiletto heels digging into Grace’s feet, no people showing up just to be seen in booths with bottle service.  It was completely unpretentious and that’s how Grace liked it.  Considering her lifestyle and her wealth, it was actually how she liked everything.  So when the DJ began playing pop songs, she couldn’t help but start dancing uncontrollably.  To his credit, Brock did too.  It was like he lost all his inhibitions and began moving his body in tune with the music.  Even Elias and Svea did, and Grace knew how…well, quiet they were.  This wasn’t their scene at all but they were having the time of their life dancing with each other, spinning each other around and moving to the beat of the music.  

For at least a night, Grace could forget.  She could forget how her parents used her to get back at one another during an awful divorce.  She could forget her mom re-married an equally as nice guy as her dad but became more pretentious as the years went on and the wealth accumulated.  She could forget that she made the decision to quit dancing professionally.  She could forget her dad had Parkinson’s.  For one night, everything was perfect.  Everything was fun.  Everything was how it should be.

***

“Fuuuuck, baby,” Brock groaned as he watched Grace climb on top of him, leaning forward so she could press his breasts up against his face.  He immediately took the opportunity to place wet, open mouth kisses all over her breasts, kissing down to her nipples before taking them in his mouth.  He could feel her grab his cock and lower herself onto it, sighing at the feeling of him filling her up.  “Feel good?”

“You always feel amazing,” she smiled, her hair falling around her face.  “That’s why I can’t stop fucking you.”

Brock chuckled, a cocky smile on his face as he reached up and brought Grace’s face down so he could kiss her and stick his tongue down her throat.  “Ride me, baby,” he mumbled against her lips.

Grace began rocking her hips back and forth, her body moving so expertly and so in tune with Brock’s.  Almost immediately, she began to moan, and Brock grabbed her hands and intertwined their fingers so she’d have something to brace against.  Brock was in a trance – as he usually was when Grace was riding.  He was completely and utterly transfixed by her in every sense of the word, and in every way; from the hair on her head to the red nail polish on her toes.  

“God, I fucking love you, Grace.”

The words had barely escape Brock’s mouth before he realized the magnitude of what he said, how he said it, and when he’d fucking said it.  God, he was such a fucking idiot!!!!!  During sex?!  Really?!  Way to live the cliché Brock Boeser!  Way to be a fucking idiot and—

“I fucking love you too, Brock,” he heard Grace say, a smile adorned on her face.  The both of them giggled, and couldn’t stop giggling for a while even though she was still riding him.  It was miraculous.  “Way to say it for the first time while I’m riding you,” she joked.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he said.  

“You’re lucky I love you, because that’s such an amateur move, Brock.”

[serenadeonacanoe]

Honestly, I'd piss him off on purpose. (Namjoon x OFC)

Pairing: Namjoon x Original Female Character

Genre/Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, too tired to beta

Tags: Artist!Namjoon, Yoongi and Tae are the best flatmates, Enemies to Lovers I guess... more like brats to making out in the storage unit, OFC is an idiot.

Summary:

"Wow. Is that that grumpy artist behind you? Jesus. He really looks like a bit of a dick. And you are right. He really is hot..." Oh no. Speakerphone. Namjoon was standing behind me and was staring at me. Then at my phone. He let out a little laugh, then raised his hand to wave at Tae and Yoongi outside who were now also staring at him as if frozen, before turning around in unison. As if that would help. As if he couldn't see them. Or better even... couldn't hear them.

[...]

Mister Darcy has nothing on Kim Namjoon - that new and upcoming artist you probably already heard of (You haven't? How dare you? At least have the decency to pretend you have!). He is cold, serious, and rather good at making other people believe he is a prick. Especially Elizabeth Bennet - uh... Charlotte - is about to lose it because of him. Maybe in a good way. Man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

CHAPTER 1

Even the sound of my own nails rhythmically tapping on the top of the counter was annoying me. To be fair, it didn't need much today to blow my fuze that had never been particularly long in the first place. But after a week consisting of being belittled by old white men and endless hours of unpaid overtime I about had it. Welcome to the art world. You know well before you enter that the hours are horrible and the job market is more than frustrating, but you love art and you have good organisational skills, you are resilient, charming when it counts and tend to romanticize things even when you know you shouldn't. It's too late to turn around now.

"That is why I don't use an agenda or notebook. If something is important enough for me to attend I simply won't forget. I know you youngsters are all about the bullet journaling and expressing yourself by mapping out your life but it really is just another way to procrastinate instead of getting to actual work." For a second I considered throwing my damn notebook in the buyer's face, but that probably wouldn't have helped my CV and the new job I would have to look for starting tomorrow. At least I should have screamed at him a little. Mainly, that I didn't care, that I was on my period and my shitty shower in the shitty flat i shared had broken and no dry shampoo in the world had fixed my hair this morning and that god damn it, how the hell was I supposed to remember every phone number, every call my boss had to take, every art handling transport I had organized if I couldn't write it down somewhere. Instead, I smiled. Died a little on the inside and complimented him on the gift of his exceptional memory and asked whether he would like another cup of coffee.

"What a dick." Samantha murmured, more to herself than me, after the guy had finally left, which made me snort under my breath. She usually didn't say much but when she did it was usually pure gold. In the end, it didn't matter that he was. Didn't matter that everyone at the gallery thought the art he had bought from us over the last couple of months had neither been smart nor impressive purchases. Mainly expensive. And flashy.

"Doesn't matter now." I said in a sigh after a quick glance at the clock. It was Friday night and we were about to close. Since it was my birthday on Monday I had taken two days off, about the longest break I had had this year and I was looking forward to being the lazy slob for a few days I was maybe always meant to be. In silence we answered a few last emails, tidied up the desks and counters so that potential buyers that would come in over the weekend wouldn't have to suspect anyone was actually working here. - A white desk. A huge Imac on it. That was all they needed to see, folders and pens and apparently especially agendas to be hidden away in drawers.

At five to eight I threw on my coat and Samantha just gave me a tired smile. Probably happy for me, just exhausted. "Have fun then? Don't get too wasted?" "Oh..." I said with a huge smug grin on my lips. "You have no idea... gonna take a bottle of Moët with me from the bar and drink it in my bathtub after eating a huge pepperoni pizza by myself and dancing to only the finest of 90s Euro Trash." I couldn't help it, apparently, I felt it necessary to give Sam a little demonstration, waving my arms up and down while swaying my hips in a way that I'd probably would not have if it hadn't been for a bit with an audience of a single person. Or maybe two?

A quiet scoff behind me and I quickly turned around, slowly lowering my arms, Sam biting her lower lip at the sight of me standing there like an idiot in front of HIM of all people.

Men didn't have to be old to annoy me. Or white. Yes, those were the ones that pissed me off most usually, but no one had managed to do so as much as Kim Namjoon recently. And now he was standing there, looking me up and down and stopping at my hair. The crazy too-much-dry-shampoo-because-the-shower-broke-hair. "Nice." He just commented and then looked over at Sam. "I'd like to take a last look before Sunday's opening if that is okay?" I stood there, my shoulders dropping, completely ignored.

"Uhm, actually, my babysitter has to leave in about an hour and I will have to be home before that." Samantha replied and I was impressed by how calm she stayed. "Of course." Namjoon said and gave her a slight smile. "Anyone else still around? Chris maybe?" Of course Chris hadn't been in today. It was Friday and unless important guests had announced themselves the owner of the gallery wasn't around on Fridays... "I am afraid not. But maybe Charlotte has a few minutes?" Well. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I felt a little betrayed. "Wouldn't want to keep anyone from their important Moët-Pizza-Dance Party plans." Namjoon replied before I could say a word. His voice once more dropping to a hushed, deep disapproval and his hands buried in the pockets of his rather expensive looking coat. Silence for a few moments and then he just walked off towards the room his exhibition had been set up all week. Showing without a further word that I would have to stay anyways if he wanted it that way.

"Well thank you for pushing me under the bus like that. Really appreciate it." "I am so sorry. But I was serious, I can't lose this babysitter. She got Jamie to eat vegetables. VEGETABLES!" Samantha suddenly seemed in a rush, grabbing her jacket and purse and showering me in promises she would make it up to me. Even though we both knew that wouldn't happen and wasn't necessary. Suddenly having to stay longer was normal. I just hated that it had to be today. And because of him.

I heard the door close behind Sam and I stood there for a second before putting my bag down again. Usually, I would have followed the artist, asking if I could somehow help, but nahhh... my ego was bruised up enough now, especially remembering the little dance. I closed my eyes. Fucking hated the guy. Always had. Well, not quite. I had thought he was cool for about five minutes when he had come in the first time. We had heard about him for quite a few months before, I think I had even seen pictures of him at some point, but those were nothing compared to him in real life. He came in all cheekbones and sharp chin and an all grey outfit, quick pace, observant gaze. Incredibly hot. He had also completely ignored me.

That's how it had started - a bruised ego. He couldn't know that it was my weak spot. Having studied art and its management and now feeling like a better secretary at times, when my colleagues and I were doing all the behind the scenes work while Chris worked very little hours and ended up with all the money and recognition. I was aware this wasn't the only field of work where this was the case, but it still frustrated me... I had imagined my life in the last years of my 20s to be a bit more glamorous than living in a tiny apartment on the outskirts of the city... spending my Friday night waiting for some rude artist dude to leave so I could lock up.

But what I perhaps hated most about him... was that I admired him. - Purely for his art. Really. Even the fact that he kept acting as if I wasn't around every time he came in didn't mean I couldn't admit that. At least to myself. The stories behind his huge colleagues were clever and thought through, but even without context, the pure aesthetics were mesmerizing. It was the kind of art that touched something deep inside of you and standing in front of it I always had a hundred questions. Whenever he brought in a new piece I was the first one to sneak a peek in the back rooms before it was hung.

"I don't get why you have such a problem with him. He is just... quiet. I think he might even be shy... stop being so sensitive and just ask him out already." I had almost strangled Sam for that comment a couple of weeks back. Stop being so sensitive. What did that even mean? Comments like that made me want to cry and scream at the same time, which probably would have been perceived as even more sensitive, but when had insensitivity become something to strive for? I had only kept quiet because I liked Sam and I knew what she had tried to say. At least I thought so. That I might have given less of a shit if I hadn't been rather attracted to Namjoon. Even though I had never mentioned it, she just knew. She knew if I didn't care about something I didn't waste my time on it. But if something made me angry or upset there was usually more to it. I hated that she could read me that easily. But he was still a dick and I still wanted to go home.

He took his sweet time. After an hour I walked up to him, a little speech prepared in my head about how he could come back first thing tomorrow. But when he turned around he just raised a hand between us to keep me from interrupting and turned away again. I hadn't seen that he was on the phone. "No, it's nothing, just one of the gallery employees." I heard him say and okay... if I wasn't about to explode before I was now. I stood there for a minute, fuming, and then simply walked back to the office area, my hand shaking when I started turning off the gallery lights one by one. It wasn't as satisfying as I had hoped but still felt good. Two minutes later the only lights still on were the one above my head and the one in front of the door. I would at least give him a clear direction where to head, he seemed to need it.

When Namjoon appeared out of one of the dark corners he looked even more annoyed than usual. Looking my direction through squinting eyes and his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. "Seriously?" he yelled my way and almost walked into one of the little flyer shelves. Wasn't the first time I had seen that happen to him though so maybe that had nothing to do with the light.

I felt oddly triumphant. By the time I had put on my coat and turned off the remaining lights, ready to finally lock up, Namjoon had almost found his way, standing in the open door, still on his phone. A little groan from my side when he didn't even notice that I was standing behind me went by unnoticed. Or simply ignored. But instead of the appropriate clearing of the throat or the maybe less polite squeezing past him, I just put my hands on his back and gently pushed him forward a bit, until his feet hit the pavement and he turned around. Dropping his hand with the phone in it, for a second he looked like he wanted to push back. Or trample me.

"Okay, what the hell is your problem, Charlotte?" His voice was hoarse. His eyes dark. God, he was hot. I hated him so much. "You." I simply replied and stared at him for a second, then turned around and locked the two locks on the door before stepping over to the alarm system. I couldn't help feeling smug because apparently, he knew my name. I imagined him staring at the back of my head because he was flustered, but couldn't be sure. All I knew was that when I turned around again a minute later he was still standing there, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his lips pressed together forming a straight line and watching me.

"Do you always act like that at work around people who could get you into trouble?" He was right, he could get me into trouble. But I was too fired up now, my heart racing. "Is that a threat?" "An observation." "Only around the ones I don't like." "Cool." "Great." "Enjoy the dance party. Sounds shit."

And with those words he had turned around, coat flying open in the wind, unfortunately making him look really cool as he walked away and I ABSOLUTELY HATED HIM. I kept my mouth shut and just walked off in the other direction, realizing minutes later that my car was parked the other way, but I kept walking for a while before I finally turned around. It took a while to calm down and only cuddling up to my cat on the couch to trash tv finally did the job. But by then I had realized something I wasn't sure I liked too much. Yeah, I thought he was a prick. And yeah I should have just played it cool. Would have been much smarted in many regards. But I also had somewhat enjoyed myself in the most fucked up way.

Seeing that stern look, that intense posture as he was towering over me... man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

[miraculouscontent]

Didn’t Need Burrow (April 24th-May 3rd)

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette is exposed to the world as Ladybug by the end of the series. This is largely so Adrien gets to bask in everyone knowing that HE ended up with Paris' protector on his arm, emphasizing her status as a trophy that he won.

This feels too likely, I hate it.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: After being badgered into trusting her with the Fox, Marinette tries to convince Alya that she can't expose herself as Rena Rouge any further, and should take advantage of the Fox's long-range capabilities to stay hidden. Alya dismisses the danger; if she tries hiding at all, it doesn't take long to reveal herself, claiming it's unheroic to hide. Shadowmoth then targets her personally, with Marinette taking the blame.

I WOULD EXCUSE THE FOX THING IF IT STAYED LONG RANGE BUT I’M WAITING FOR THEM TO RUIN IT

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Rather than outing Ladybug, Alya reveals *herself* as Rena Rouge. She claims that this is fine since Hawkmoth already knows her secret identity... and besides, it gives the LadyBlog more cred!

Because why not I guess, the bar for her is already so low.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette will be forced to give up Guardianship/go through the memory wipe... but continue as Ladybug. This is mined for Sadrien AND resets LadyNoir; she no longer recalls all the annoying shit he's pulled, offering a fresh start. May lead into Reversed Rectangular Romance with Chat Noir pining after the old Ladybug while she develops a crush on her brooding partner. He's so ~dark~ and ~mysterious~ and gives her such ~wistful looks~!

Marinette gets to give up guardianship but at what cost. (also, that last line about Chat being dark and brooding)

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: In a Shocking Twist, Emilie is revealed to have been evil and manipulative like Chloe/Lila, and presented as solely responsible for her husband's jerkassery. This sets up GabNath as endgame with Gabriel absolved for all his misdeeds. (Any similarities between Emilie and her son's behavior are summarily ignored.)

Because Adrien is male, obviously. He gets a pass.

Anonymous said:

Didn't need the Burrow: A lot of Adrien's supposed childhood friendship with Chloe was actually with Zoe. Which is supposed to give the new character some instant connections and serves as another proof of Chloe being irredeemable. Bonus: Marinette finds out and whether or not she spills the beans, it will be something she'll get called out for.

So, either a retcon or Adrien comes off as even more of a liar in “Origins.”

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Su-Han will tell Marinette outright that her responsibilities mean she's not allowed to be happy. This is used to garner sympathy for HIM - Isn't it sad how his duties have completely consumed his life? Clearly he needs help learning how to unwind and relax! Meanwhile Mari's drowning in the background, but this isn't about HER, now is it?

I’M SO SAD

WHYYY

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien discovers Gabriel's secret and hides the truth, forbidding Plagg from telling anyone. Not just to protect his father/family, but because he's not ready to stop being Chat Noir. No villains means no reason for heroes, and he doesn't even know his lady's secret identity yet--! Naturally, his reasoning is treated as totally understandable and sympathetic, even as he enables the conflict to continue indefinitely.

“CHAT BLANC” VERSION 2.0 I HATE IT DX

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Hawk/Shadowmoth starts aiming to *kill* the exposed/temp heroes in order to prevent them from potentially joining battles. This only happens during akuma fights (so that it falls upon Ladybug to 'set things right' with her powers). Chat Noir makes minimal (if any) effort to protect them, relying upon his 'partner' to carry the day instead and bring them back.

Ladybug: *trying to save everyone*

Chat Noir: *filing his claws in the background*

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette will be pressured to make others permanent heroes and let them have their Miraculi full-time. This sets up for Hawkmoth to eventually get his hands on the Miracle Box, meaning any Miraculi that haven't been distributed are now in the villains' clutches. Not only does this dramatically cut down her pool of allies, Marinette gets to be guilt-stricken over failing all her duties and not listening to their demands while she had the chance.

Marinette, you’re such a fAilUrE as guardian!!

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Zoe will turn out to be another love interest for Adrien - only it's as the New-Bee with *Chat Noir*, enabling the dreaded Reversed Romo-Rhombus dynamic with Ladybug becoming jealous of their chemistry.

girls are such jealous types, haven’t you guys heard? :)

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Ladybug gets a new default look (for the sake of selling more ML merch in Real Life), trading the spotted onesie for another form-fitting spandex suit that 'highlights her feminine charms' even more. This is treated as a sign of her 'growing up'.

wow i hate it

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya shipping Marinette with both Adrien and Chat Noir after finding out her identity.

I am 100% not here for shipping shenanigans.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will be responsible for leading Lila to suspect that Marinette and Ladybug are connected. Though Alya may actually *realize* that she slipped up, she won't warn Marinette about the potential security breach, not wanting her to get upset/any more paranoid than she already is.

And of course, this will be used to make people “sympathize” with her. See, she cAreS about Marinette’s feelings, how can you be mad at her for this??

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: There will be more plots where Marinette's 'lesson of the week' is that she must learn how to better control and suppress her emotions, and that she is literally not ALLOWED to be upset because Hawk/Shadowmoth will win if she does. At the same time, Adrien is encouraged to marinate in his own unhappiness over Ladybug not giving in to his advances. If the danger involved ever comes up, it's presented as purely Ladybug/Marinette's fault for rejecting him.

I’m starting to think some of you are ZAG insiders because wow that sounds likely. DX

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: A recurring theme in episodes featuring the 'girl squad' will be Marinette meddling too much, as her efforts to help them cross boundaries THEY aren't comfortable with. If she dares to bring up their past insistence that friends don't keep secrets, they'll call her out as a hypocrite while refusing to acknowledge their own hypocrisies.

“Marinette’s boundaries? Who??? No, Marinette, what about THEIR boundaries???” - the writers

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien will feel sorry for Chloe and regret the role he played in her losing her Miraculous. This is mainly a vehicle to help explain why everything that went wrong with her/Queen Bee is totally, 100% Marinette/Ladybug's fault, along with showing how forgiving Adrien is and how he 'sees the best in everyone', and is clearly right to do so. Bonus: this is combined with him distrusting the NewBee for not being Chloe/making her jealous.

*sigh*

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Chloe will get akumatized out of anger over the New Bee, and Ladybug is blamed for her insensitivity/forced to apologize to her.

I’m still stunned at the mental gymnastics they go through to make Marinette/Ladybug apologize to people.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Su-Han will confirm the popular fan claim that Ladybug and Black Cat bearers are, in fact, soulmates/bound together by destiny. Chat Noir gleefully rubs this in Ladybug's face; her disbelief and horror is played entirely for laughs at her expense. Adrien's behavior escalates further afterwards, bolstered by the knowledge that it doesn't matter how shitty he gets, as she belongs to him regardless.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: In addition to confirming the notion that Ladybugs and Black Cats are 'meant to be', it's revealed that other Miracli are destined soulmates, like Foxes and Turtles or Butterflies and Peacocks, and other random Miraculi pairings that 'coincidentally' align with various official ships.

brb, need to step away to scream on my porch

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: At least one episode will have Marinette mess up a potion, preventing her and the other heroes from enjoying its benefits during a big fight. This is blamed either on her anxiety causing her to overthink it or on her being a poor student, lamenting the fact that she didn't have more time with Master Fu. (Bonus if Su-Han takes advantage of this to slam Fu; extra bonus points if Mari defends him by insisting *she* was the one who screwed up, not her master.)

It’s like a main course of Marinette blame, oh my god.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Su-Han will make various sexist comments about Marinette and the other heroines, implying that they were all poor choices Because Girl. Since nothing says 'Girl Power' like insisting they must prove themselves to doubtful men who will never fully accept them. After all, Marinette is the only one who ever learns lessons; therefore, Su-Han will never grow out of his 'old-fashioned views'.

And when the writers are called out, they’ll go, “bUt hE’s jUst oLd fAshiOned”

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien gets his Ring revoked by Su-Han for misbehavior. This is depicted as a terrible miscarriage of justice, and Marinette must convince Su-Han to return the Ring without learning who Chat Noir is. The more terrible the inciting act, the bigger the bonus points; did he skip another battle like Glaciator? Pull another Syren-level stunt? Cataclysm another innocent? Who cares? Sadrien is Sad, and that's the biggest crisis of all...

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien pulls another Syren-level stunt (or worse); rather than holding him responsible, Su-Han berates Marinette for her poor leadership and failure to keep him in line. Bonus if she confides/vents to Alya afterwards only for Alya to AGREE with Su-Han that she's failed at being a good partner to Chat Noir. Fever Mode activates if Alya implies Marinette's failure is due to her inability to admit her feelings for Chat Noir and/or confess to Adrien.

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will pull an Adrien re: Lila, refusing to openly support Marinette against her. She'll claim that they need to 'gather evidence' first before exposing her to everyone. In practice, this means that Alya is willing to continue feigning ignorance, pretending that she's taken in by Lila's lies, while Marinette continues to suffer since she won't play along. Any evidence-gathering we see Alya engaging in is minimal, if she's shown doing it at all.

This is 150% one of the most accurate Alya-Lila confrontations I’ve seen from these predictions.

I hate it.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: When confronting Lila, Alya will insist that 'Ladybug told me herself' that they aren't friends. Lila attempts to convince her that Ladybug is lying to try and protect her; this either works or spurs Alya to declare that LB 'hates liars', making her suspicious of Marinette's potential connections to the superheroine.

Alya

Alya why

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will only treat Marinette with anything approaching a veneer of respect while she's Ladybug. (As in 'Transformed/wearing the spotted suit/actively superheroing'.) Her behavior towards her 'regular BFF', meanwhile, will continue to degrade.

and, as a alternative:

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Having learned that Marinette = Ladybug, Alya shows less and less respect towards the superheroine. (Not that she displayed much in the first place, but you know what they say: familiarity breeds contempt. And Alya's convinced that she knows her SO WELL, despite all signs to the contrary...)

Thanks. Hate them both. T_T

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will end up outing Ladybug in a moment of anger. Though this is treated as impulsive and spur-of-the-moment, the act itself hints otherwise. (For example, she posts it on the LadyBlog; that post had to be *written up* first, and she likely had to think about what evidence she'd use to back up her claim... Not to mention if she includes pictures or video. Showing that Alya thought about it well before her 'tipping point', no matter how she claims otherwise.)

okay but you missed the part where Marinette is blamed for it--

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Tikki's comments about kwamis not understanding love are foreshadowing that they will later claim that Ladybug and Chat Noir's relationship has shown them what true love is. Because none of the other relationships they've ever seen or experienced in their long, looooooong history compare to the Four-Cornered F**kery.

Tikki sure knew a lot about love when she commented on all of Marinette’s love issues.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Kagami will come to regret 'impulsively' breaking up with Adrien for being a lying jerkface, while Luka moves on and finds happiness with somebody else with relative ease. Because guys are allowed to move on with their lives while girls have to wallow in the miserable mires of wish-you-were-(still)-mine. Woes--!

no but see Adrien is “worthy” of love while Marinette isn’t

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette is either responsible for the secret Juleka's keeping (such as trusting her with a Miraculous) or inadvertently sets Rose on its scent in the first place, making her *supposedly* responsible for the strife which follows.

We already know that it’s not Juleka’s secret at least but Marinette could absolutely still set Rose off.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette will be taught techniques/given a power-up that shuts off her emotions completely, or simply reaches the point where she figures out how to do so on her own. This is ultimately shown to be a bad thing/another mistake not because of the toll it takes on her psyche, but because the fully repressed Marinette/Ladybug no longer has any interest whatsoever in Adrien, and *we can't have THAT!*

Us getting to see Marinette not crushing on Adrien... but at what cost?

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya posts more embarrassing content on the LadyBlog, making it look like Ladybug keeps screwing up/making mistakes. Marinette asks her to stop, worried that she's undermining people's faith in her; Alya blows off her concerns and accuses her of getting a swelled head/becoming a 'control freak' about her image, insisting it's no big deal if people see she's human while refusing to treat her as such. (Meanwhile none of Chat Noir's mistakes/misbehavior make it onto the blog.)

“Bonus” if Alya gets particularly huffy because it’s jOunrAliSm and she’d be bIAsEd if she took down something that made her fRiEnD uNComOFTablE.

elflynns-horde-of-stuff said:

Don't need a burrow: The upcoming episode "Guiltrip" is gonna be 50% Sadrien. And we won't even get any new developments on his character for it.

so the usual

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: It's revealed that Ladybug holders are 'natural good luck charms' for everybody around them, but are punished by karmic backlash for even the *slightest* hint of selfishness (or self-consideration). Hence Marinette's whole plight, which is still presented as her fault for not being able to reach an impossibly perfect ideal. (Anything we learn about Black Cat holders, meanwhile, is purely for Agrestangst and has no bearing on anything observable within the show itself.)

Honestly, with the bad luck Marinette had in “Origins,” you’d think she’d be meant for the cat and been taught about the values of destruction and just being able to Go Off on people, or how to spin her bad luck into something good (or the black cat miraculous in general helps her channel her bad luck, such as making her Cataclysm stronger or being able to give her bad luck to others).

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: The show ends with Marinette and Adrien getting together, with Marinette declaring that everything she went through was worth it and that she's 'incredibly lucky' -- that the fact fate brought them together is 'nothing short of Miraculous!'

The sheer level at which I just cringed in immeasurable.

Anonymous said:

Didn't need the Burrow: A S5 episode will drop before S4 is finished.

Oh! Ahaha, we’ve got a wavelength, anon! I actually already added that one at some point.

Anonymous said:

Didn't need the Burrow: The series will not really make Rose/Juleka canon. They will imply it but the official language used in the episode will be "best friends". Yet on Twitter the creators will pat themselves on the back repeatedly for it

I mean, this already partially happened in “Reflekdoll” so--

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: It'll be confirmed beyond any reasonable doubt that Adrien 100% knows about Marinette's crush when he uses it to manipulate her. Plagg comments on it, and Adrien affirms that he knows, but her feelings don't compare to his own for Ladybug. ('And aren't worth sparing' goes unsaid, but is naturally implied.) Naturally, his manipulation of her is treated as 'clever', and any pain or mortification she feels as a result is just gravy.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien reveals to Plagg (and the audience) that he's fully aware of Marinette's crush, but refuses to acknowledge it because he doesn't want to 'crush her dreams', comparing it to how Ladybug keeps rejecting him. Making the situation entirely about HIM and how HE feels, even showing some resentment towards her for HAVING that crush for HIM to deal with. Marinette and her feelings are painted as just an ANNOYANCE that he's ignoring, heedless of the impact upon her.

wow i hate them both

thank you, both of you

</3

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

Closets & Wendy’s.

“Last day of Pride!”

Dean projects himself onto Cas’s bed, ending up sprawled on his front, with an arm slung over Cas’s lap.

On receiving no more greeting than Cas’s hand landing in his hair and starting to card through it, he lifts his face from the comforter, props himself up on his elbows - chin tucked in a palm - and stares at his boyfriend.

Cas looks upset.

The corners of his lips tilt passively downwards, eyebrows carrying most of the weight of his frown.

“Cas?” Dean asks, neutrally - already regretting his overhyped entrance.

“I’m sorry- I don't feel -”

Words fade out, and Cas pauses. Then he turns to actually look at Dean, the sadness seeped into his eyes, and Dean doesn’t waste a moment getting up, knee-waddling over into Cas’s space and pulling him close.

Cas comes easily, planting his head on Dean’s shoulder, and exhaling a tired breath when Dean runs a hand over his back.

“What are you feeling?” Dean asks, after a beat, now trying to soothe Cas’s tense shoulders, rubbing gently over the cotton. Cas leans into his touch.

About three years of therapy, and nearly six years of being roommates - undergrads, and then actual friggin’ grad school - with Cas, basically Dean’s personal mascot for healthy communication, has led him to definitely know that it’s always a better alternative to talk about what you are going through, instead of what you aren’t.

(Or, you know, what you think you should be, just because your dumb, insensitive boyfriend who’s been obsessed with Pride since finally coming out and-slash-or best-friending up with Charlie Bradbury, is. And rather loudly, at that, because Dean Winchester’s a goddamn idiot.)

“Disappointment.” Cas says, morosely, but almost as soon as he hears his own words, he rephrases. “Uh. I’m the disappointment.”

“Well, did you secretly sneak out and mark yourself absent for the entire semester in all your 4.0 GPA classes when I wasn’t looking?”

“Dean.”

“Fine, 3.7.” Dean throws back. “Big friggin’ deal, nerd.” Cas lets out a huff of breath which almost resembles a chuckle, and Dean squeezes his arm around Cas. “You know that would’ve totally been a four if I’d been less distracting.”

“Interesting.” Cas corrects.

“Hot.” Dean throws back, just because he knows it’ll make Cas crinkle into one of his fond ‘what-do-I-do-with-you’ smiles. It does. 

“Perfect.” And Cas throws in a sigh, as if to solidify his point, and leans in to nuzzle Dean’s neck in a way so intensely Cas, that if anyone else had ever tried it, he’d either end up being tickled to death, or running the hell out of dodge. 

“We’re on you right now, Cheesy McCheesington.” Dean smiles back, and goes on. 

He’s not willing to let Cas close up into a ball of repressed emotions with happy only on the outside. That’s way more Dean’s thing - or rather, used to be. He knows he’s bettered his coping mechanisms. Mostly because every part of his life involves Cas now, and anything with Cas is good. 

They’ve grown a lot together - grown through a lot as well, and this is how they’ve done it. By talking through, the Castiel way. It still throws Dean off sometimes, how far they’ve gotten.

So when Cas whines in protest into Dean’s shirt, he knows exactly how to turn it into a side-hug. One of those, where they end up staring at each other from a three-inch distance.

Staring hard, Dean says it. “You’re the farthest thing from a disappointment, Cas. To anyone.”

The lecturers all adored him, their friends made it a point to keep proclaiming their affection out loud (thank god for Charlie Bradbury and co.), and Dean doesn’t think he could be more proud of Cas if he tried. 

He was a goddamn wonder.

He’d gone from a lanky, private-schooled, what’s-a-Star-War schmuck to one of Dean’s favorite people in the world. He was hilarious, and a genius, and kind. He’d grown into his shoulders, and into a stubbly kind of an age, and into this awesome, intelligent, pancake-making man of Dean’s dreams, and into his bee obsessions and organizational neatness - and complete, total perfection. 

(Dean needs him, appreciates him, and (not that subtly - to his credit), loves him in a forever sort of way.)

But before Dean’s properly began to remind Cas of any of it, he’s interrupted. 

“I’m disappointing me, Dean.”

There’s resignation in his tone, and evidence in every word he says. 

“June’s over. Again. And for all the marching with painted cheeks and the megaphones? For all the parades, and the celebrations of our identities, the togetherness, the being proud of being ourselves?” Cas lets out, bitterly, and Dean realizes he knows where Cas is going with this. “And I still haven’t come out to my family.”

Dean waits, sure that Cas isn’t finished. 

“How have I not done it yet?” Cas hisses, and it almost startles him - he’s swapped the upset for angry. It’s rarer. “I’ve known since I was a teenager - and we’ll have been together for five years in three months, Dean, and I just - I cannot believe I still can’t do it.”

He sounds helpless, and Dean wants to jump in, but he needs Cas to get the words out first. 

“What’s the matter with me? Am I not brave enough, or strong enough - or am I still hanging onto the hope that they’ll suddenly become better human beings and not disown me when I tell them?” Cas scoffs. 

He’s pissed at himself. 

“Maybe I still lack, as you say, free will.”

Dean has to step in at that. “That was six years ago, and you know I wouldn’t say it now.”

“Why not?” Cas challenges. “I couldn’t tell them then, either. I clearly haven’t changed.”

“Other things, Cas.” Dean says, and grits his teeth. This isn’t supposed to be them yelling. Cas is frustrated, and Dean’s listening - he can’t be frustrated back at him for the way he expresses it. “Other things have changed.”

Cas gives him a look, but Dean holds his end of it until it crumbles. Cas changes his offense. Mellows down - probably when he sees Dean’s restraint. “This is important to me. I want to do it. Then why can’t I tell them?”

He’s asking himself, but he’s also asking the only person who knows him as well as he knows himself, yet he’s also not asking at all - simultaneously, it’s also rhetorical.

Dean licks his lips. 

“Whatever be the answer to that, Cas, first things first. This doesn’t imply you’re not proud enough.” 

Cas looks away.

“Or, for that matter, not panromantic or demisexual enough.” 

Sigh. Shuffle, shift. And then he looks back up at Dean. The tears weren’t there before. “How do you know, Dean?”

“‘Cause I know this doesn’t decide that.”

“Why not?” Cas says, quietly.

“‘Cause,” He repeats. “How queer you are isn’t measured on a scale of how soon you come out once you know.” He pauses, judges the air. “It usually isn’t measured at all, unless we’re talking about a magical thing known as the Kinsey Scale.”

He judged right. 

Cas coughs, and it’s definitely to disguise a reluctant snicker.

“And you know, even if it were measured on the weird first thing,” Dean adds, serious again. “There’d totally be a different clause, and a separate key, mind you, for the people with douchebag families.”

“They prefer conservative, I think.” Cas says, smally, after an entire minute, as if he’d actually been rerunning Dean’s speech in his head for that long.

Dean shrugs.

Cas almost smiles. He’s calmed down.

“The strange thing is that it makes no sense.” He begins, heavy, albeit less severe on himself. “I’m twenty six. We co-own this apartment, and we pay our bills. We’re completely independent.” It never stops sounding surreal. That’s for another time. “Mother calls me on third Sundays, Gabriel sends Christmas cards. Other than that, I only spend Thanksgiving lunches with them, each year more horrible than the last. I know I wouldn’t miss any of them, nor regret being written out of the will. Or have my Novak cemetery spot passed onto Michael’s oldest. Or the gardener.” 

Dean snorts at that. The Novaks are truly something else. 

“There is no reason I can’t just come out. I just -” Cas cuts into his own sentence with a sigh, one signifying that he’s finally done speaking, and he reclaims Dean’s shoulder once more.

What’s important right now, is to make him feel better. A resolution to this isn’t within grasp at the moment, and Cas sounds drained. Dean - well, he does what he does best. He segues. 

“Wait.” Cas lifts his head. “You didn’t actually say you’re not out, did you?”

Cas squints at him.

“Dude. Being out doesn’t just mean telling your family. And getting subjected to toxicity and trauma, by means of it.” Dean points out, earnest. By that logic, courtesy of a long-dead mom, and a relatively-shorter-dead dad, he’s in the closet as well. “Hell, you put your hand in my back pocket at KFC, yesterday.”

“Oh.” Cas blinks. 

Dean grins, and Cas’s surprise makes it easy to do so. “You bet my publicly grabbed ass, it counts.”

Cas knows it counts. He knows everything that counts. But he indulges himself, and he indulges Dean - his bad mood slowly dissipating. “What else?” 

“You kissed me at Wendy’s last week.” Dean informs him, eyebrows raised. “Held my hand for a really long time in a Starbucks queue on Saturday. Oh, and all the gay bars count, buddy. Especially the bits where we grind on the dance floor, and then I blow you in the stall.” 

Cas opens his mouth to protest that has only happened once, but Dean meets his eyes with a pointed look. He’s got to bring it up.

“Every time I’ve ever taken you to a steak joint counts too. ‘Cause trust me, those are always dates, whether you know it or not.”

“Long drives are a date to you.” Cas deadpans. 

“Yeah, and Baby will never say you’re not out.” Dean throws back, and Cas actually makes it to a smile this time. Dean’s left feeling accomplished. (And sort of dazed, because it’s going to take a lot more than six years for him to get used to Cas being so easily beautiful, and being it right next to him.)

“You said you loved me for the first time at the Roadhouse.” Cas says.

Dean blushes. 

“And then you ran away before I could react, got really drunk and karaoke’d I’m Too Sexy on the stage, and passed out on my lap right as I tried to say it back to you.”

This is definitely not his favorite story, but it always lights Cas up, and that’s all that matters, really - so he rolls his eyes half-heartedly and Cas smiles wider.

Silence prevails for a moment.

“Look.” Dean ends up being the one to break it. Cas listens, hanging onto each word. “You’re the only one who knows why you can’t do it, okay? My best guess would be an internalized decision to avoid conflict. Maybe you call your old therapist tomorrow - like, I dunno, a cameo from Castiel, unresolved coming-out issues sorta thing. Of course, we can talk about it too. Get six cheeseburgers and twelve beers, and figure things out on your own. But it’s up to you.” Cas exhales into a little smile. “All I know is, it doesn’t matter to anyone that you haven’t told your family, if it doesn’t matter to you. 

Cas nods, a couple of times, and there’s the barest hint of tears again, but this time doesn’t make Dean want to punch God. 

It makes him want to hug Cas, so he goes for it. 

“Even if you were in the closet, Cas? I’d say the same.” Dean adds, as an afterthought, about a minute into a hug which doesn’t seem to be nearing an end. Not really. No one minds, so there’s that. “This community, this month - everything about Pride is about all of us, and if Charlie’s ever called me handmaiden, trust me she’s said this a million times. It means everyone. Includes people in the closet, every bit as those who’re out.”

Cas hums in agreement, and tilts his head against Dean’s.

“In any case,” Dean teases. “Your family’s over in Illinois, anyways. Here, where it counts? You’re as out as you can be.”

“I could kiss you in more Wendy’s.” Cas contemplates, because he’s awesome like that.

“What has Burger King ever done to you?”

Dean listens to him considering it with a thoughtful note, and mutters a “Dork.” It helps keep him grounded for he feels like he’s floating right now - ‘cause there’s something about the way Cas holds onto him. Tighter.

Like somehow, even after all this time, they managed to fall a little more in love today. 

And somehow, they’ll keep doing it forever.

[thelasthundredmiles]

September 6th, 1981

There was much confusion in my life yesterday; and now I sit on a grey overcast Monday morning and try to understand what happened. Something has just not felt right about my relationship with David. It’s hard for me to describe-- but I have been isolating with him, remote, detached. I think that basically I am having a difficult time being part of a “couple”. My life is structured around working and going to meetings. Adding the framework of a relationship makes me feel crowded and confined. I have very little free time in my life and it’s very dear to me. I need that blank unstructured time to organize, understand myself. A period of re-creation. Solitude is an important component of my life. It occurs to me as I write, that this problem, this theme, has been recurrent in all of my affairs. Early on, I usually feel that a relationship threatens my solitude. Well, that’s what’s happening now. David and I went to the opera last night. On the walk over, he said “This city makes you desperate for love.” I told him that I didn’t quite understand what he meant. I said “The city evokes strong currents of lust in me, that has very little to do with love.” He said “I used to think I had it all figured out, that the two could be combined. Now, I don’t know. I just don’t know anymore.” This is actually the only conversation that occurred-- yet David must have been sensitive to my moods, or I was insensitive to his. After the opera, he and his friend Susan went to meet her parents for dinner. I was invited, but declined. they walked me to the subway-- and just before I left them, David said “I think you should go out tonight.” “That’s an odd opinion for you to have” I said. “I do, I think you should go out.” I left him and came home feeling completely hassled. I took Sadie out for a walk, and true to form, she would not piss. Now I know that this dog hasn’t pissed since early morning-- and I know, from having lived with this dog for seven years-- that she needs to piss. So trying to contain my rage, I walked her to Washington Square, which I loathe doing late at night. Nothing. She wags her tail and trembles and stares at me as if I were trying to torment her. Why!? Why should my fragile mentality be strained by such a hopelessly mundane detail as my dogs excretory habits. I beseech my Higher Power, I beg, I implore. MAKE THIS DOG PEE!! Nothing. This Power that shaped the Universe, this source of all life-- this force which I have turned my life over to-- apparently doesn’t care enough about my mental health to step in and remove this idiotic daily harassment. Back at the apartment, the toilet stops up again. Dear God. Standing in the kitchen I turn my eyes upward and scream: FUCK YOU, HIGHER POWER!!! In my rage I storm out of the apartment and head for the bars. I’ve been building toward this for days now. I rush down the street wondering why this HIGHER POWER which I have considered to be so operative in my life doesn’t help now-- where is the comfort, the assurance, the serenity. I know the bars are dangerous ground tonight. I do not care. Fuck it. Fuck it all. I have reached some breaking point. I am totally hassled and I want to escape into the cool alcoholic darkness of a bar. I go to Boots. Jules is there. We visit at the bar. His presence temporarily removes the possibility of my drinking. Pride will not allow me to drink in front of Jules. I begin to calm down with the music and people. A group of AA people arrives and stands near me. I see Allan across the bar. He leaves with a trick and I resume they’re coming back to the apartment. Jules and I run out of conversation. I leave and go to Ty’s. It feels good to be out-- although I am not at all sure what I am doing. I am having my third Saratoga-- so it looks as though I am not drinking. I stand in the middle of the room. A very handsome man at the bar smiles at me. He is drinking. He looks drunk. I smile back. Am I going to trick? Am I about to fuck up the relationship with David? Am I ruining everything? The guy’s name is Steve. He has obviously had a lot to drink. He gives me a bright phony smile. I stare into his eyes and the smile fades. This is a lonely, desperate man. “Let’s go fuck” I said. His smile was gone. “OK” he said.

We walk to his apartment with our arms around each other. I do not know why I am doing this-- but I know that I need to have anonymous sex with this drunk stranger. It is, in some way, an act of anger. He is too drunk to find his apartment. Finally we locate it. The apartment is a wreck. Bare rooms stacked with boxes. It looks like he just moved in. Sex is dirty but not good. I do not like this man. I pity him. Remotely. I play with his cock and try to fuck him. He grinds his body against me with a wild urgency. It is love he wants. This city makes us desperate for love. I talk dirty to him and we masturbate together. I come. He does not. I dress quickly and leave. We kiss at the door. A great kindness swells inside me for this man and his cluttered apartment. I do not know what has just happened on that mattress on the floor. I have used him for very urgent specific needs. I have given him that vital part of me that only exists for strangers.

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

Fictoromantic & Fictosexual Should Be Seen As Valid

after seeing a youtube video about “Fake Valid”

and one of the ones mention were Animesexual.

but if you think about it, Anime/Cartoon and even CGI would be under Fictoromantic and Fictosexual.

even if some might not fully understand it, and might even think it is not valid.

I don’t know if they will ever do a talk about Enbian on Youtube, but I could keep my eye out for it.

 it’s also nice to know, that the feelings I have right now are valid.

which once again, I believe the reason I couldn’t figure it out before, is because of the energies around me, but it’s okay not everyone believes that, but might respect that is what I believe.

I do believe that there can be others who will be both Aromantic Flux, Asexual Flux and added one that can either be Hetero, Bi, Pan or Lesbian, Vincian and Other.

it can be insensitive to assume that Ace, can’t be Heteromantic.

not all Aces will be the same...

also I would like to talk about a video that points about the stupidity of insensitive humans, that were attacking someone for coming out as Aroace.

that is so pathetic, I can’t remember the name that talks about one of the hate videos, but I can remember that the way the person sounded, they sounded like a Toxic-Religious person....

at least I know that not all people who are religious are like that.

and yes, earlier I couldn’t help but have the thoughts that it would give me another reason to want to find the edge of heaven, and jump off of it.

or like if I was one of Charlie’s patients/clients and the Angels in the Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss Universes, try to take me away.

I would grip on to Husk’s bar for dear life

and yell out “I live here now!”

I would still rather go live with the Earthly Mother/Goddess,

my pendulum could still be pulling a prank about the whole Moon Goddess thing, and how she created Lilith from some fragment of her....

if that were true, wouldn’t that mean that Charlie could be a Goddess in a Hazbin Hotel AU....I don’t think she would be made into one in the canon,

but fanon only.

also is it normal for your eyes to play tricks on you when you look at the moon, like no matter how you move it feels like it’s moving with you.

like if you move your body in a circle motion, it does the same.

or if you go side to side, and the moon does the same.

maybe it’s like a optical illusion.

I don’t think it was like that time with that star I saw before when I was feeling a little sad, and the star ends up making me feel a bit more better and happy.

I know how it feels to be emotionally hurt by Toxic-Religious people,

like when I tried to get that one Toxic-Religious person to listen to me about how their using “may god have mercy on you” was hurting me and it was upsetting me, and no matter how I tried to point that out.

they kept doing it. I had no other choice but to block them over at deviantart, because that is where it happen....and I really hope I don’t run into them here...

there should seriously be a shirt and sweaters

that say “Being Horny Shouldn’t Be Mandatory”

and maybe explaining to others, that being Ace wouldn’t mean that you are gonna be Gay, well yes some will be Vincian, Lesbian, Biromantic and Panromantic.

but there will be some that will be Heteroromantic.

one of the reasons why I can’t tell my own family about being asexual flux, has to do with knowing that they will assume that I’m gay, but no matter if that were true or if it was like Heteroaceflux, I can’t tell them.

also I am technically a fictoromantic too, I can still get some crushes on real people....but I rather not try to pursue them.

bad luck in the pursuing your love interest department.

and I’m pretty sure that was before I got enough bracelets to help block out certain energies, and let me fully figure out who I am....but there can still be some parts I’m not fully sure of.

I know I’m sure about the Aceflux part, and even the Aroflux part.

I guess I’m still on the fence when it comes to the whole being Enbian. 

I don’t think my thoughts or feelings would matter to those that got really made at [Redacted] for becoming open about being Aroace.

at least they weren’t kept from fully figuring out that by other people’s energies.

also it is possible you could go through most of your life, without figuring out your true romantic or sexuality or asexuality identity.

plus it is possible some childhood trauma from the rejection of same gender/bio-sex attraction, that might cause some to not be open to their family about it.

like let’s say a boy who hasn’t even become a teen yet, liked-liked another boy in his class, but when he gets his family’s thoughts about a boy liking another boy in that way, but not giving away it is him.

the reply they give him, ends up emotionally traumatizing him and he ends up using a faux-romantic identity, and later in his life, even a faux-sexuality

to hide the truth from his family, he even ends up believing the faux-romantic identity and faux-sexuality was really who he is.

and he even believed his family’s views were right, but then at some point in his life, he learns what his family made him feel, wasn’t okay.

 because of how they made him feel, he forced himself to be something he wasn’t and it lasted throughout most of his life.

I’m not sure if many will get what I’m trying to say, and I really REALLY hope it doesn’t get misinterpreted.

but it still could possibly to happen to some, even if some families will be accepting, there are who wont be.

those who wont be accepting will either be the really mean aggressive kind that will stop loving you, or like they might still love you but will try to “fix” you....

there can be the passive-aggressive type of disapproval

and the full on really not good type of aggressive type of disapproval.

anyway, even if Fictoromantic or Fictosexuality, is like attraction to fictional characters, don’t mean it should be seen as fake or not valid.

some who are fictoromantic or fictosexual, can still feel some form of attraction to real people.

even if I can agree that can be some fakes, but I don’t think Ficto is one of them, even if some might not fully understand it, but it should still be seen as valid.

also still going to procrastinate with checking my blood type....

but like I say many times before, if it comes out the same for the third time,

I will fully accept it.

I can wait a bit longer to check it again, and at least we found out that we can get more blood out of my finger if it is the left hand.

I think it has to do with it being closer to the heart.

I know the few times I tried to do that test, I ended up feeling not so great.

and afterwords I would need to either sit down or lay down.

maybe I just need to eat a lot of food first so I don’t feel that way.

I guess I did suspect before that it might have to do with a slight fear of blood, but I don’t think I’m sure about that anymore...

but I guess I am glad to just take my time with checking my blood type again.

I think I will head to bed now, I will sign back on later to check out more stuff on here.

also Cartoon/Anime, Video Game, Comic and Movie Characters

would all fall into the Fictoromantic and Fictosexuality.

well if the movie has real people playing in it, you might either fall for the character or the person who plays the character, but could end up falling for both.....

also earlier today, I might of had been in a type of peeved mood

thinking about certain toxic-religious people who have done pretty messed up stuff.....let’s say that they make that one toxic-religious person who wouldn’t listen to me on how bad they were making me feel, seem more nice in comparison.

there can be other stuff besides toxic-religious, can be one of the terrible stuff about humanity.

like disgusting humans harming a child or baby, who should get their butts kicked.

I’m starting to think that Ghost George and that Attic might be the same as what I asked about to my pendulum.

once again, before I found out about that info about those guys who were involved with that whole George in the attic, and George ends up choking one of them...

I had asked my pendulum about one of my past lives, that if my past life dad was named George and if he was involved with me ending up dying in attic.

but maybe with some luck they are two different Georges and two different attics.

so after asking about the name and the whole attic thing, I decide to look it up and then end up finding that team was helping a lady who had some ghost named George who ends up choking someone.

it’s okay that not everyone believes about past lives, or it being possible that you might not able to remember fully of some of it.

and only end up remembering bits and pieces.

with any luck, it ain’t the same George, but if it was, maybe he will be send back to the attic and wont leave until he fully confesses what he did in his life.

I guess it was surprising to find some info about a George and a attic so fast, but not everyone has to believe it.

anyway I’m just gonna go to sleep now....

also I hope some understand what I was trying to say about how even fictoromantic attraction and ficosexuality shouldn’t be seen as fake, and should still be seen as valid and not be mistaken for the ones that are fake.

anyway see ya later, stay safe everyone and remember that you are valid.                                                                      

[captains-writing-desk]

Inappropriate

Universe: BBC Sherlock

Character: Mycroft Holmes

Type: F!Reader insert (I, me, we)

Words: 2,011

Warnings: Swearing.

Note: Jesus lads... This was quite cathartic to write in a way. Took some interesting turns... I won’t lie it almost took a different turn towards the end with cheekiness ;)

Mycroft joins you on a walk after you get angry with him and his brother. Awkward angsty fluffiness ensues.

-

“Deduce me again Mycroft Holmes and I’ll see to it that you suffer.” I spoke without lifting my eyes from my reading material. He immediately averted his gaze and idly rolled his palm over the handle of his umbrella. “And tell your shit of a brother he can stop fucking trying too.” My voice did not waver once and remained low in tone- perhaps making it more sinister.

“I am right here.” The brother muttered from his arm chair and I raised my brow, peaking over the top of the newspaper for one moment just to reiterate, “Personally.”

“Well we can’t help it can we, it’s something we’ve always done, it’s not our fault that you’re more fun to try. “ Sherlock never knew when to shut up which was one trait Mycroft at least had the decency to inhabit.

“You CAN help by not turning me into a game.” Mycroft looked rather offended as did his brother, “Don’t look at me like that. You’re hardly sneaky about it, seeing who can get a deduction first and just how much fucking money have you both put into this hm? Acting shocked as if you were being so fucking sneaky, you haven’t fooled anybody... Dickheads.”

“I’m sorry, you turned someone’s trauma into a game?” John piped up emerging from the kitchen , my eyes narrowed at him.

“You boys should be ashamed of yourselves. Such an awful thing to do.” Mrs. Hudson followed from the kitchen who was met with a direct glare and with that, I folded the paper up neatly and rose to my feet.

“I rather despise this household sometimes. I’m going for a walk.” I’d had quite enough of this nonsense and had thrown my coat on and shut the front door behind me before anyone could speak up.

“Rather foul mouthed isn’t she?” Sherlock commented.

“Hot blooded.” John hummed in agreement.

“I find it rather endearing, oddly.” Mycroft mused as the room openly stared at him which he took as his cue to also leave.

-

“I’ll scream.” Mr. Government had caught up to me and I just couldn’t be hassled to deal with him and yet, he persisted.

“I don’t doubt that. Bare in mind however, that we are in London. Nobody would even flinch if you screamed.” He reasoned.

“What if I screamed 'bomb' and threw something?” Highly insensitive yes but I was angry.

“I stand corrected.”

“Yes and what a lovely mess that’ll leave you to deal with.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” His voice a little grave.

“Then perhaps you should bugger off hm?”

“Perhaps.” Yet he remained by my side even as my pace quickened, the swearing had subsided a little so I couldn’t be quite as angry right?

“Where exactly are you walking to?” I suppose my route made no sense to him, then again, made no sense to me either.

“Why do you want to know? Just follow.”

“So I can follow you now? No need to ‘bugger off'?” He was amused, but not at his comment, rather at the fact I would let him tag along. Not amusement, elation.

“You would be following me regardless and by that standard all you need to know is which way I am pointing and that will be where you’re going too.”

“I see. So we are just wandering aimlessly?”

“I am wandering aimlessly. YOU are wandering after me.” Why did that make him feel stupid? Perhaps it made him think too much into why he liked to stay around me as long as he could.

“Yes, sir.” He was making it seem like my fault, as if I’m ordering him to follow me. Can’t say I minded it.

-

We made it to Whitehall gardens and ambled through, staring at the flora that had started to turn with the autumnal weather. I was hungry now as I walked through the park and down to the embankment so I bought a pretzel from a little hut whilst Mycroft trailed behind on the phone about something so I expected him to leave soon.

I sat myself down on the wall with one leg tucked underneath myself so that my body was turned slightly and I could gaze through the bars my back rested against and watch the river.

Moments later Mycroft came and sat next to me, mirroring my pose only with his leg crossed over the other instead and he watched me for a moment until I looked at him.

“You can go. I’m quite happy sat here.” Not that he needed my permission to go but it felt as if I needed to remind myself that he could go, that I didn’t need him with me.

“I’ve got nowhere to be.” He raised a brow when he saw me relax, a wave of relief washing over me then the lamposts all turned on, what with the shorter autumnal days. I glanced around at the red leaves now lit up in this strange new light then back to Mycroft who had an amused smile fringing on his lips.

“Good,” I smiled, feeling an odd new confidence, “Do you mind if I stay here a bit longer?”

“Not at all.” He leaned back on the rails slightly as I took a bite of my pretzel, still warm from the vendor.

“Here.” I noticed Mycroft pull the sleeves of his coat down a little from the cold so I tore the pretzel in half and offered him a piece. ‘Does he even like common food?’ I thought and laughed internally at how odd that sounded. “It’s warm” I added still holding it to him. He thought about it as if it was a big decision but eventually took it.

“Thank you.” He smiled, thankful for the bit of warmth it provided him.

“It won’t kill you. Probably.” I looked out across the river feigning being suspicious.

“I’ll take my chances.” He chuckled and took a bite, humming at how surprisingly nice it was as I took the last bite of my own half and shook the crumbs of my hands then tucked them between my thighs to keep them warm.

Once he finished his half he turned further towards me and leaned in slightly.

“I apologise for earlier. It was uncouth of me.” He cleared his throat nervously but looked directly into my eyes where I saw the sincerity in his apology.

“It’s alright, You can’t help it. Besides,” I sighed, “I know you do it often- both of you. I suppose today I wasn’t in the best of moods to put up with it.” Truth be told I’d had a shit day. The sort of day where everyone I encountered decided to make my day worse than the last person had.

“Did anything happen?” He asked and I looked at my hands for a moment before furrowing my brows and looking back up to him.

“I’m not traumatised you know? That’s just John’s theory on me.” I wasn’t sure why I started with that but I suppose it did feed into why my day was crap but more than anything really, I felt the need to explain myself to Mycroft. Maybe explain why I was so difficult and rude. He sensed I had more to say and let me finish.

“Truthfully I'm not really sure what’s wrong with me. I just can’t seem to figure out how to figure out what I feel or what to do. Some things I understand but then I just get overwhelmed to point where I just numb down. I can’t quite explain it but I it just makes me cold and it scares me. I never used to be like this and I don’t mean to be cold but I just am. Then when people point it out it makes me feel like shit and I get agitated but with the wrong people.” I started to choke up, “So I don’t know. I don’t mean to be that way.” I looked down at my hands and started fidgeting to distract myself.

“You’re not cold. I’m sure anyone that knows you can tell you that. You’re perfectly fine the way you are.” He made no great speech just a simple reassurance and it was that- reassuring. “I've never understood people. They are idiots.” He summarised and I laughed.

“That is true. Yes. Mycroft I-“ I looked at him and he leaned in expectantly, “I didn’t mean to unload all that on you.” I shot him an apologetic look.

“It’s quite alright. I’m glad you felt you could say it though. That and it’s my job to make people talk sometimes.” He joked.

“Don’t pull that crap. I did it because I needed to not because you made me. I'd never crack in an interrogation.” I teased.

“We shall see.” He lifted his brow and watched me carefully.

“Did I not say that you would suffer if I caught you deducing me again?” You narrowed your eyes at him with a smile threatening to escape.

“You did.” Though he didn’t stop watching and even cocked his brow playfully which surprised me. Was he flirting? A sadistic smile slowly crept up my face.

“Are you flirting with me?” I returned the scrutinising look and he was taken aback.

“Excuse me?” He recoiled.

“You heard me. Are you flirting with me?” I demanded now, leaning in to catch his eyes until he finally looked at me. “You are flirting.” I could see it in his eyes and I was surprised by my own realisation and honestly elated though I tried to conceal it. Though now I had no idea what to say.

“I’m sorry if I was inappropriate.” He finally spoke, breaking my train of racing thoughts then he stood up. My heart skipped a beat, I didn’t want him to leave. He turned to me and I looked up at him with my brows furrowed, unsure how to proceed. “Perhaps I should l-.“ I pushed myself into my knees, grabbing the lapels of his coat and kissed him. I knew what he was going to say and leaving was not an option so I panicked. I pulled away and searched his shocked expression.

“There.” I took a deep breath and sank back to sit on the feels of my feet, “Now we’ve both done something inappropriate.” I laughed nervously under my breath, drowning in my own awkwardness and searching for any words to say to make this moment go away. I definitely misread the situation, he was definitely not flirting. My head flopped into my hands and I groaned.

“I fucked up... I’m sorry.” I mumbled through my fingers. I only wanted to tease him, make him suffer a little, but now we were both suffering for the wrong reasons.

“You didn’t fuck up.” Mycroft’s voice was gentle as his palm rested between my shoulder blades, pulling me forward until my head rested against his stomach. I really hoped he would forgive me for this cock up but I couldn’t bring myself to show my face, now or ever. However, we couldn’t stay like this forever so he grabbed my hand that was still glued to my face in shame and he urged me to stand up. My legs felt like they barely worked but I managed to sort of flop to my feet in front of him , dropping my other hand to my side and just stared at his chest. He let go of my hand and if my heart could drop any further it would have but instead, it shot up into my throat when he grabbed my waist with both hands. I looked up to see him smile then pull me into him as he lowered his lips to my own.

He pulled back to look at me fluttering my eyes open and staring slack jawed.

“You didn’t fuck up.” He repeated and squeezed my waist reassuringly which snapped me out of my daze. I bit my lip trying to stop the smile they crept onto my lips.

[rjhpandapaws]

Something Familiar

Chapter 1: Conditional Exchange

Sharing his house with someone else after years of living alone took some getting used to. And while he was a horrible patient, Silas was a great housemate. Daniel didn’t know how much of that came naturally to Silas, and how much of it was his fear of getting kicked out. He’d done enough prying already so he wasn’t all that inclined to ask. That and Silas has only just started talking to him after they had made their contract. The contract was a simple thing; Daniel would provide healing and a place to stay in exchange for magic. The conditions were that Silas remain in an animal form whenever Daniel had company or patients; and Daniel couldn’t alter Silas’s consciousness or state of awareness without explicit permission to do so. It was a small thing and Silas still hadn’t spoken to him anymore than what was strictly necessary for three and a half months. Of course things had come to a head eventually because Daniel had never been one to mind his own business. In a fight that he had ultimately caused, he learned a whole lot more about what Silas had been through than he had ever thought he would be allowed to know. Exactly how many traumatic things their contract had brought back to the fore front of his mind. It had made Daniel feel sick and he had done what he could to make it up to Silas. Which amounted to leaving the house for a little over a week so Silas could have room to breathe.

Understandably, things changed after that. Daniel learned to tread more carefully around Silas and made more of an effort to learn about his situation. It was admittedly something he should have done before they made the contract. It was too late to change anything though, as it had already been drawn up and sealed. They still agreed to new unspoken rules and began to live more like housemates than contracted partners. He spent a lot of time teaching Silas about the things he had missed. Silas taught him long forgotten healing magic and a few secrets that had been lost when the shapeshifter settlements had been destroyed. They used very little magic and almost felt like cheating compared to what he was used to. Daniel was tentative to call them friends, but at the very least they were no longer strangers in the same space. Silas often had horrible nightmares. Daniel was woken up pretty often to his cries of fear or pain, and on some occasions screaming. Though the nights those dreams didn’t wake Silas were the ones that worried him most. In the morning he would find Silas on the balcony watching the sunrise with tea or coffee in his hands, still steaming but long forgotten all the same. Some days he would be crying silently, and some days he would be blank and neutral; but there was always this hollow distance darkening his eyes.

As soon as he woke up Daniel knew he would find Silas on the balcony. The night had been a quiet one with no screaming and no tears. Which meant whatever had chosen to haunt him would be doing so in his waking hours instead. Daniel wished almost desperately that there was something he could do to help, but Silas never answered him when he offered. He would just look at him with that dark oppressive distance in his eyes. So lost to whatever memories that had chosen to torture him that Daniel was unable to reach him. He took his time to get out of bed and ready for the day. Silas wouldn’t be ready to talk for a while, and it didn’t matter when Daniel came up to check on him. Despite knowing that it wouldn’t be eaten until it had long gone cold if at all he still made Silas breakfast. Though he had gained some of it back, Silas was still concerningly underweight. Daniel made his way up to the balcony with the try. There Silas stood. As close to the edge of the balcony as he could get with the railing in his way. There were trying tear tracks on his cheeks and the steam of his coffee was curling away into the morning light. He always used the same mug. A pale nondescript thing that he had found in the back of one of Daniel’s cabinets. The difference today was that the distance in his eyes was somehow darker, and he held the mug in a white knuckle grip.

Whatever was after him this morning had to be particularly painful. As it always did, Daniel’s curiosity weighed heavily on him. He knew better than to ask though. Silas never answered him when he was like this. Which is exactly why Daniel nearly jumped out of his skin when he spoke. “There were three of us you know.” His voice was flat as he spoke. There was no emotion to it, not even pain. His grip tightened on the coffee cup and Daniel feared it might break. Silas didn’t seem to notice, “That made it out. Me and then two of my brothers. I lost them in our mad dash to get out, and now I don’t even know if they are alive.” He blinked and fresh tears rolled down his cheeks, “After everything we had been through I couldn’t be bothered to stay. I ran like a fucking coward and sold myself out in a desperate bid to survive. Some fucking brother I am.” For all his wishing that Silas would speak his mind, Daniel didn’t actually know how to respond now that he knew. Saying that he was sorry felt hollow and fake, and not to mention it was too little way too late. He couldn’t really relate; he and Simon had parted ways amicably. Daniel set the tray down and tried to gather his thoughts. Figure out a way to bring Silas some long overdue comfort. If there was even a way to soothe such deep regret.

He was out of his depth and grasping at straws at this point. “In a few weeks you’ll be healed enough to safely handle mildly strenuous activity. We could go looking for them if you would like.” “Why? So you can add them to your collection?” Came the sharp reply. Angry and emotionless at the same time, “So you can have a complete set of the last shapeshifters known to man?” “No.” Daniel said firmly, “So you can have some damn closure and a place to go once this contract is up. I actually want you to be safe believe it or not.” There was a long rather uncomfortable silence as Silas came back from whatever distant place in his mind that held him. His shoulders slumped as he came into the posture of a man defeated by his own thoughts. He set the mug down on the table beside the tray and Daniel saw the start of a crack. He would have to mend it one of these days so Silas could keep using it. “I’m sorry.” Silas said eventually. “You have been nothing but kind to me, and yet I still fear completely offering you my trust. You may very well be the only human with my best interests at heart and I keep pushing you away.” He finally turned to face Daniel and there was a deep sadness to his eyes, grief hung over him, “I'll think about it but that is asking a lot of faith from me; and for now I think I would rather be alone.”

“I understand.” Daniel kept his voice level though it took him a lot of effort, “I’ll be in the house if you need me.” Silas gave an absent nod and Daniel went back inside. Perhaps he shouldn’t have offered at all. Looking back, it did seem like he had malicious intent in that. He hadn’t meant it that way of course, but all of the humans Silas had ever met had been unspeakably cruel to him. Daniel should have been more careful with his words, or just kept the idea to himself. It was too late now of course, it was out there now and there was no taking it back no matter how badly he wanted to. He set about cleaning the house to keep himself occupied. He wasn’t expecting any patients today, so barring an emergency, all he had to keep his mind busy was cleaning an research. Had he been feeling particularly ambitious, he might have started on a travel plan; but he didn’t want it to seem like he was trying to push Silas toward an answer. He sighed quietly, “Good to know I still have a knack for getting in over my head when it comes to trying to help. Some things never change I suppose.” It was just his nature to be overly concerned for those around him to the point of being an annoyance it seemed.

The afternoon was slowly turning to evening by the time Silas was ready to be around him again. He didn’t say a word though. Just walked into the kitchen and began to clean his dishes. Daniel was at the table going over his medical books and making a list of things he would need to pick up the next time he went into town. He was glad to see Silas had at least eaten something while he battled with his thoughts. Silas seemed a little more composed now at the very least. That made him feel a little better, even if it didn’t shake off his guilt. “I’m sorry Silas.” He eventually said, “For this morning. It was insensitive and out of line.” Silas laughed and the sound was dry and humorless. It was an unpleasant shock to Daniel. He had never heard Silas laugh and this was definitely not the context he had wanted to hear it in. “Was it?” He asked sharply, “Are you rescinding your offer to help me find my only remaining relatives then?” “Well no.” Daniel started. “I just - I wanted you to know that I meant no offense by it. I feel like I’ve messed something up, and I want to know how to fix it.” He sighed quietly, “I hate seeing you so upset.”

Silas deflated some and that same posture of defeat returned, “It’s a matter of learning to trust you. My entire life so far has been spent fearing humans. I just have to keep in mind that you haven’t posed any danger to me yet.” He looked down, “I’m sorry for being so... defensive, I guess would be the word for it.” “You’re alright.” Daniel said gently, “These things take time. Even at that you have a lot of trauma to work through and - “ “Daniel stop.” Silas cut him off, “I need someone to listen to me not psychoanalysis. Believe me, I am well aware of my trauma and the power imbalance of our dynamic. I don’t need a reminder.” “Right.” He replied, “It can be hard to turn my doctor off sometimes.” “I understand. It’s the only way people will acknowledge you so it has become your primary mode of existing.” He said, apparently he was out for Daniel’s soul today, “You’re more than that to me you know. You’re the closest thing I’ve had to a friend actually.” “First of all ow. Secondly, what happened to not psychoanalyzing one another?” He replied with a laugh, “I’m glad you almost think of me as a friend.”

Silas smiled and Daniel was pretty sure it was the first real smile he had ever seen from him. “I figured that you’ve done it to me enough times that I deserved a turn.” “Fair enough.” Daniel began to pick up his books and put them away. His list was as complete as it was going to get until he ran inventory. “How many weeks?” Silas asked after a long stretch of silence, “Until we can leave?” Daniel paused for a moment as he thought about it, “Six if you mind your limitations; eight to twelve if you keep ignoring them.” Silas frowned, “That was a lot more than I was hoping.” “You’ve been stubborn.” He remarked, “Agitating old injuries and coming away from your little excursions with new ones. You need rest.” “Fine.” He said as he looked toward the bookshelf, “I’ll be a better patient from here on out. Six weeks to look for a place to start should be enough.” Daniel smiled, “Of course it will.” Silas nodded his agreement and retreated back into his thoughts. He took traveler’s guides and the few maps Daniel had then settled on his bed to look them over. Daniel started to run inventory of his supplies and started on a list of traveling provisions. They would have to be ready for anything. Daniel had never traveled farther than the town after finding his place here; and the world had changed a lot since Silas had been in it last. They were venturing out into the unknown.

[ben-10-setting-omnicrom]

Hey there, you made a post recently bashing one of mine. Totally fine to disagree but bashing other people's posts aren't the way to go about it. Both posts you were bashing were speculation and if you really had a problem with it, you could've left a comment to open up a real discussion about it on my post or the other person's.

I think you misread some of the tones in the posts. We were exploring political themes in a fictional universe. These sorts of things aren't for everyone and there's a wide variety of perspectives on the subjects. The other person's was, as I interpreted it, a "hey what if this happened" sort of post. Mine was a theory about the dynamics between species based on what we see in canon. I don't think either warranted the reaction it got from you, especially considering the fact we're talking about a cartoon. Perhaps they are darker interpretations but not impossible. No bold, declarative statements were made. No one was pushing their thoughts on others. Both were just people sharing their thoughts on possibilities we could not see in canon.

Again, it's okay to disagree. You, however, took it a step further. I deal with discourse on subjects more serious than a cartoon so I really don't care if you think there's something wrong with this but I'm getting the sense you are trying to start drama in the fandom which really isn't appreciated. This is generally a positive space and it's not hard to match the tone, even when you don't agree.

If you keep this up, I'll just block you so we don't see each others posts. Can't speak for the other person, of course, but they're a respected member of the fandom so I'm sure people would also appreciate it if you didn't go after them.

But I will ask two things of you. If you continue making posts like this, consider using a more respectful tone. I have no idea how other people you have bashed reacted but you are saying these things about real people, many of them likely minors. It's not hard to be courteous.

The other thing is to not use the delusional tag or call people insane. Maybe some people have some hot takes or discuss theories in a sphere a bit extreme for a cartoon but that does not mean it's okay for you to directly attack them. And, some of the words you used are ableist language. I am not disabled so I am not necessarily affected by it but a bar must be set and I'm setting it pretty low. You can continue what you're doing but do not disrespect people or use ableist language. Even if you don't care what I think, note that chances are people will not take you seriously if you sound like a child throwing a tantrum or speak like you're trying to hurt someone.

Even though I disagree with your tone, I will admit you weren't completely off target. You had some good points. And if you had brought them up in a respectful manner, I would have been happy to have a discussion about it. But, you didn't and here we are.

Where the hell do I even start with this?

Ok, first of all NO I'm not trying to start drama. I'm expressing my distaste on a trend I've seen in posts in the Ben 10 tag where this echo chamber perpetually spews out ridiculous baseless shit.

"A generally peaceful space" lmao, you mean like the time several users INSISTED Cracker isn't a slur and you can't be racist to white people, after a user called another one it while shamelessly and without irony claim they wouldn't stoop to bullying like @xcatxgirlx was wrongly accused of? Or the fact several users adamantly and insistently warp and twist her words to fit their delusional narrative where she's apparently the next spawn of Satan or whateverthefuck? Or the fact if you disagree with said echo chamber they'll call you bootlicker and say you have brainrot.

Also can you quit with the victim complex? I'm not going after anyone, I'm refuting claims and headcanons by pointing out no such thing is even remotely hinted at in canon.

Gods at this point I'm going to have to pin dictionary.com with how often I've had to quote people the definitions of words.

having false or unrealistic beliefs or opinions:

In other words ideas not based in reality or that can be gleaned from pertinent information. Reality in this case being the canon of the series.

Saying Ben wanted to kill Kevin because he was jealous of him saving the day in the Forge of Creation episode is FLAT OUT DELUSIONAL. Full stop.

Saying the Plumbers would practice brutality and gay bashing at the drop of a hat DURING PRIDE MONTH is utterly baseless and ridiculous, not to mention actively insensitive to irl acts of such. Their WHOLE THING is keeping the peace and anyone practicing police brutality would get jailed JUST LIKE THE NUMEROUS TIMES IN CANON THEY'VE DEALT WITH EVIL PLUMBERS.

Saying the Galvans are totally discriminating against a entire species is absolutely baseless especially when shit all is preventing said species from basically doing whatever the fuck they want. Baz-El is literally a damn archeologist after all.

You want to know what all those things have in common?

They take the flimsiest of "evidence", ignore context, and actively distort facts to shine things in the worst light possible, like a corrupted fun house mirrors from hell.

Also why would I ask for permission to document for posterity posts I reference? I'm literally only doing that shit so they can't say said posts didn't say what it did or if said posts are erased. It's no different from using the Way Back Machine to check on old posts.

Also also, like for future reference PLEASE add spaces to your posts. Your ask was honestly kind of hard to read.

[burnedbyshoto]

Sickness and Afflictions

todoroki shouto x reader; bakugou katsuki x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, cursing

a/n: one crushes your heart. the other one fills it. pick your poison. bitch... this made me sad and happy....

Part Two ; Alt Ending

todoroki shouto

You had been happy in your relationship with Shouto. Happiness and longevity seemed to be something coined for the two of you. But you knew that you were the first real relationship he had.

Recently, Shouto was becoming better acquainted with his family. Often spending his free days with his family instead of spending it with you. Which wasn’t an issue in your opinion, but it was three months since this started… and you only ever saw Shouto at night when he would come to bed past midnight. You were becoming upset by this, and whenever you voiced your emotions he was quick to ignore you.

The reality of your relationship was that you were not happy at this moment. You were also sure you did not wish to break up with him… but you wanted effort. Today was your birthday, and you hadn’t received a single acknowledgment from him about it. Today was your day off and he didn’t so much as kiss you goodbye today when he left for work as you woke up.

Today, you sat at the kitchen table at nine at night, waiting for him to come home. Your fingers play with a gift you bought for the two of you as a way to get him to go somewhere with you.

Some part of you wishes that he isn’t here because he has some elaborate plan. That these past few months, he’s been making you insecure for this very night. That Shouto’s waiting for you to cave first so he can expose his birthday celebration plans. But you know better to assume that, Shouto has never been spontaneous like that.

So today, instead of celebrating with friends, you waited for Shouto to come back home.

One hour passed.

Two hours more.

It’s no longer your birthday when the front door opens and closes. Your weary eyes staring at Shouto who walks in, slippers on his feet, exhaustion on his face.

Your eyes lock with his, and you break the gaze to continue down his body. There’s no card in sight.

“Why are you coming home so late?” You ask placing your chin onto your hand. Your eyes boring into your boyfriend’s ambivalent aura.

“Long day at work.” Was his response and it irked you.

“Midoriya-san posted a video of you and your classmates at a bar. Why are you lying?”

“We only went in celebration of—“

“Bakugou’s early birthday celebration, yeah. I know.” You snark back, your hand dropping on the table and a frown on both your faces.

“I’m not in the mood to have a lecture right now. Especially since you know everything there is to know.” Shouto voice drips with sarcasm as he tries walking away.

“Only because if I don’t you won’t ever talk to me!” You exasperate standing up. The sounds of the chair scraping against the floor echoes through the apartment.

Shouto stares at you, his heterochromia eyes feeling empty, lifeless.

“You don’t talk to me anymore.” You repeat, your bottom lip quivering. You try not letting your feelings overwhelm you. Desperate not to give him a reason to walk away. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Keeping your business to yourself?” Shouto steely response. His upper lip presses into his bottom one. “Why do you need to know everything?”

You blink many times, your mouth dropping with failed sentences.

“You’re my boyfriend,” You’re slow to respond. “I’m curious and concerned because you’re my boyfriend.”

“If you’re going to be telling me things I already know, I don’t see the point of me listening to you.”

You laugh, unsure of what was wrong with him. In your inability to speak, Shouto begins walking away. His arm hitting your shoulder causing you to stumble.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You seethe, your eyebrows scrunched as you push his back. He stills, not turning around. Your mind now in overdrive. “I’m trying to have a conversation with you! A conversation, Shouto! Something we haven’t done in fucking months! And you’re— you’re ruining it!!”

Shouto turns around, his face dark, his own eyebrows crunched as his lips are curling into a scowl. “Let’s make this clear, I’m not ruining anything here. I’m busy, y/n, I have a fucking job that requires utmost concentration and dedication. I can’t be waiting on your every demand and need. Don’t pretend that you didn’t know that coming in.”

“Of course I fucking knew that coming in! I’m the damn best fucking support employee Japan has! I’ve dealt with shit for you fucking heroes! I can see that you’re busy! But you’re not always busy! You just don’t spend any free time with me! And that’s what’s bugging me!”

That one complaint sends both of you over the edge. And insults pour out of both of your mouths. Eventually, you’re both just saying things to make the other upset.

You were too clingy. Demanding. Impatient. Unclean.

He was too bitchy. Completely unavailable. Dense. Opinionated.

He scrutinized what you had gotten him for Christmas. Claiming it was insensitive and embarrassing to open in front of his family.

You retorted that at the very least you had gotten him a present! You further added to the fact that he refused to meet your family.

He fought that you shouldn’t be too sensitive all the damn time because you’re a grown adult. Not some child.

It circles back to him not being attentive, the two of you in each other’s faces.

Red.

Angry.

Yelling.

“I don’t owe you anything. I don’t owe you my time, my energy, or my presence. If you’re not happy with it, why the hell are you here?” Shouto growls at you, his face dark.

“Because you mean everything to me, you fucking dick?! Something I’m not ready to give up! Is it that hard to fucking see that I want to be here?!”

“I don’t owe it to you to spend my free time with you,“ Shouto repeats. “You’re my girlfriend, not a pet!”

“Oh, no, sorry!!! I forgot because if I was a pet, I would be getting much more love and affection than this!! You know what, Shouto? This is my place. This is my apartment, and you still have the fucking audacity to show up with this attitude? For someone who loathes Endeavor as much as you do, you sure don’t act any fucking different from him.” You hiss centimeters from his face.

Your mind doesn’t even register the terrible words that come out of your mouth. All you know if that pure rage manifests upon Shouto’s own.

“Don’t you dare fucking compare me to him. You know nothing about what it was like living up with him.” Shouto seethes, as his body stiffens, his eyes dark and angry.

“Let me guess, always distant and cruel? Emotionally manipulative? Using the people in his life for his own advantage? Seeing only his own fucking feelings and no one else’s? Hm, and the real question is who am I describing?! Pro-Hero Endeavor or Shouto?!”

Shouto’s right-hand grips your forearm, shocking you at the sudden movement from him. But Shouto’s too angry to notice that his quirk activates in his moment of anger and frustration. Ice cold burning pain shoots down your arm. It not until you’re sobbing out in pain does he see the blistering ice burns on your forearm and the tears in your eyes. And fear fills his being.

You rip your forearm from his grasp. Baffled and choking sobs leaving your lips as you examine the blistering skin. You tremble as you cry.

He burned you.

Shouto burned you and he wasn’t even apologizing. All he was doing was staring.

Your eyes rip away from your burned arm and stare at Shouto. A new sadness burning through you. “I only wanted you to show me that I mattered today… it was my birthday today. No yesterday Shouto… it was my fucking birthday! But… I get it now, how much I annoy you, and how much you’re unhappy with me but… still. It was my birthday and you didn’t speak to me or acknowledge it at all yesterday.” Your voice resonates with broken, cracked, and defeated tones.

Your throat tightens with overwhelming sadness as pain throbs through your arm. But it’s nothing in comparison to the pain in your heart. You cry as you walk to the table grabbing the white envelope in your hands as you give it to him.

“Take this, it’s yours…! I’m… going to the hospital to get this fixed up… please don’t be here when I get back. …we—we are…” Your voice cracks again as you know what you have to say, but don’t want to say. It’s too late to fix these mistakes. “We’re done. Please have Midoriya come pick up your things. I don’t want to see you, ever again.”

You don’t even conceal the flowing tears as you clutch your burnt arm to your chest. You want him to say something, anything! Anything to convince you that this has only been a few bad months, but that this was the extent of it.

But still, even in defeat, he won’t budge to your will. “Leave the key under the mat, goodbye Todoroki.” You whisper completely defeated as you turn on your heel and leave the apartment.

Shouto goes to open the envelope you gave him, unsure of what it is. But he freezes at the sight of the address. ‘for shouto so that you can have fun with boring old me!’

Shouto unravels a letter within the envelope and reads it over.

‘dear shouto, I don’t know how to start a letter! is it like this? oh well!!!! I figured you were going to get me something I would love for my birthday. so I went ahead and got us this! two tickets to go, drumroll please, see the All Might museum that just opened!!! yes! you read it correctly!!! so I know you and all your friends somehow lost the lottery system for getting it among the Pro-Heroes. don’t panic, we support techs are smarter. we bid on them like feral animals. this ended up costing me ¥125,000!!! totally worth it in my stance. I know somethings been off with us lately, and I’m not all that sure what it is, but I do love you. like a lot. I’m just at this point unsure if I did anything in specific to make you mad? god, I hope not… anyways!!! I know we’ll get over it, we always do!! I love you Todoroki Shouto, and I’m so excited to get to go to this museum with you!!!! love - y/n’

A splitting headache overcame Shouto. His heart is frozen as he stared at the two tickets for special entrance to this museum. It was made out for today, the day after your birthday. A birthday that slipt his mind until your choked up voice reminded him of it.

Shouto sank to the ground, tears falling from his eyes. Oh.

He fucked up big time.

bakugou katsuki

On god, you were going to murder your boyfriend.

How could someone so smart be this dumb?

This entire day he had been avoiding you like a ninja and simply ignoring your every action to get him to open up. It was pissing you off! He was acting like a damn cat instead of a human being.

“Katsuki, I swear, if you don’t eat this goddam soup and medicine, I WILL murder you!” You snap through the bathroom door.

The countless amounts of dry heaving coughs, sniffles, and sneezes heard from the door. You still continue to bang the on wall despite him ignoring you. “Soup is fucking disgusting, and medicine can suck my balls!” Bakugou’s voice weakly snaps back. The sickness heavy in his throat. You can hear him retching just a little bit.

How the mighty fall when they’re sick. But Bakugou fell hard. Plus he refused anything to make himself better! He was more typically relying on his own body to make him better. Which was dumb! But this was week three of him being this way, he needed something stronger than his own immune system.

“If you don’t open this door, I’ll find someone who can kick the door down. Like Deku!”

“Like hell, you would, shitty woman. Even like this, I can kick his ass across the country and—and—ACHOO!!” The crackling of his quirk goes off.

Yes, the worst part of Bakugou being sick was that he was no longer as in control of his quirk.

You grumble as you place the piping hot soup and medicine bottle onto the hallway counter. You walked to the kitchen grabbing your spare bathroom key. You opened it up to find Bakugo sweating profoundly. His body shivering, yet wrapped up in five blankets. His eyes were bloodshot and his nose was plugged up with a tissue.

He looked disgusting.

“Don’t you dare,” He croaks slightly, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

You grab the damn soup and medicine and put it on the bathroom counter. Bakugou was trying to escape. But he was weaker than he typically was only because he would get a migraine from standing up. “Oh no, you’re not going fucking anywhere, dumbass!” You snap at Bakugou as you put your full weight onto his hips, trying to keep him pinned down.

Bakugou won’t let you challenge him like this, and is very quick to fight back. So there the two of you were, wrestling in the bathroom. Your healthy body pressed against his clammy and sweaty one, but still, he’s able to keep up with you.

“Let go of me, shitty woman! I don’t fucking need that crap!”

“Your nose is just about dripping on me, idiot! You’re taking the damn medicine!”

Bakugou’s hand clutched your forearms, ready to throw you off him. But he freezes, and your eyes widen in the horror of having his hands on you. And as he sneezes before he can pull away, his sweaty hands exploding against your arms.

“OH MY GOD!” You scream, scorching pain exploding against your skin. You pulled away from Bakugou, your arms quivering as you watched red blisters form on your arms.

“Shit, babe, I’m sorry!” Bakugou sneezes again, his fingertips exploding.

“You burned me!” You shriek, unsure on how to feel about your boyfriend using his quirk on you.

“Well, I told you to leave me alone!” Bakugou throws back at you, and youthrust your burned arms his way.

“Yeah, still! Also, WHY do you have zero control over your quirk when you’re sick?! YOU’RE SO ANNOYING!” You cackle despite the pain as Bakugou blows his nose before crawling over to you grabbing your arms.

“Stay here, shitty woman,” Bakugou says after examining your burnt arms.

You watch as Bakugou stands up and goes to the medicine cabinet and pulls out some burn salve he owned. He often got burns from overexerting his quirk, and it seemed that you were going to be the one using it today.

“This is why you need to leave me alone when I’m sick,” Bakugou grumbles as his clammy fingers touch your arms. The soothing balm kicking in at the slightest touch.

“NO, what you need to do is to let me take care of you, dumbass!” You counter, shoving him with your foot. “You’re sick, and you could’ve been better five days ago had you just let me take care of you.”

His eyes look up at yours when he’s done applying the balm, and he presses a kiss to your cheek. “Fine.”

Within a day you get him to feel better, but now it’s your nose that’s running. Chills running down your spine as Bakugou shoved soup down your throat.

"You’re gonna eat this damn soup.” Bakugou snaps as you groan.

Why was this soup literally the worst?

[kirstinmaldonado]

CHAPTER TWELVE 2.0

I started the last two chapters, happy to have something of substance to talk about, me being at home, improvements I was seeing, maybe even some rightful disappointment at some people’s lack of care in their actions…but like clockwork the beginning of the week brought in new developments and my mind drifted focus. My fingers lost the spark to write about feel-good situations when the chaos in the world seemed to extinguish the flame.

I was in Texas just two weeks ago but it honestly feels like forever, as if time is confused on what pace its on. The USA seems to be confused as well.

Theme parks across the nation are opening up. Some flights are back to full capacity. The world seems caught on a pendulum of thought: “Are we good enough to pretend and pass like we can go back to normal?”

Meanwhile, people are still getting sick. People are still dying. Protests are still happening, although it apparently doesn’t serve the media to still be airing that. Justice has still not been served for those we’ve lost: Breonna Taylor, Vanessa Guillen, Elijah McClain, and so many more. The media and internet is ablaze with people ridiculing, attacking, or making fun of each other, on top of everything going on.

I wonder if I’m a part of that sometimes. While I still think protesting for “bar lives” is unfathomable and tone deaf, while it was so easy to ridicule because it was so insanely insensitive to compare to the BLM movement, did I help to further a narrative full of spite? Did I egg on anger and divisiveness, did I unintentionally help create arguments online? Did I give a platform that I don’t agree with more attention by calling attention to it?

I’m all for the hard but important conversations. I love them, to be honest. My family and I had many thought-provoking conversations when I was home, about what they’ve experienced with racism, about our opinions on all sides. It was wonderful to expand our ways of thinking using past and present! I think we all walked away with more rounded backing to our opinions, me included, and I’m thankful to have a family that can be so open and willing to discuss.

Yet, those conversations can’t be condensed into however many characters can fit in to a tweet. The art of negotiating is not all about winning, it’s also about empathizing. It’s about explaining and getting the opponent to understand your side and school of thinking; if you just tear them apart for their lack of understanding or different opinion, how can they ever fully understand or want to, especially if you are the one trying to teach them something not in their wheelhouse?

Racism, of course, is non-negotiable.

Everything else, and it’s a lot, that we have encountered in the last few weeks (mainly dealing with COVID) feels like it’s cumulatively driven us to a breaking point, to a point where I don’t really feel like I live in the “United” States of America. I feel like we are now all pitted against each other, immediate to defend our point, and jumping to 10 because honestly we are tired of the bullshit.

I get it. I do. But in the last few days while I’ve watched coronavirus cases develop, “Karens” making a fool of themselves in public places and endangering people’s lives with their sense of entitlement, while watching Hamilton for the first time and seeing good and bad critiques, Kanye running for president, while I’ve cried over Vanessa and what happened to her only to have someone try to belittle my reaction compared to others we’ve lost, I realized something.

Chaos. All chaos.

How can we make real change when we are all just screaming? How can we move mountains when we are pushing from two opposing sides? And while we have made progress, will we have the sensibility to keep with it or will our boiling frustrations overrule and distract us from our end goal, lasting and transformative change for the betterment of BIPOCs and everyone?

I’m not hating on our progress. And I’m not vilifying people’s reactions to things not in your school of thought, albeit insanely frustrating things. I’ve been there and am there. The amount of Facebook posts I’ve written novels for, the shock I feel on a daily basis for some people, is all still there. Yet, my sadness for this world and how to heal it has crept in and bated me.

What can “I” do to make a difference?

Hating and bashing things is our new normal, our humor has become intertwined with it so much that we ridicule and make jokes out of everything. Click-bait headlines only stoke the flames. Coronavirus is still surging every day, and you know what, some people can’t pretend to go back to “normal” amongst it all.

The entertainment business, for example, won’t be back up and running for… who knows? I wouldn’t be surprised if Broadway was closed for longer than a year. We rescheduled our tour in hopes that we would be able to go, but with the way things are looking I can’t help but feel distressed about the outlook for the entertainment industry/shows all around. So many people’s “normal” won’t come back at all until we get a headway on this virus, and it’s gonna take us all coming together for that to work as well. We have to truly be THE UNITED states of america.

As a side-note, Pentatonix has never been this stationary since we started…and that’s bittersweet too. Never take anything for granted, guys.

So while I dissolved into a puddle over Vanessa and how I don’t even know how to help mediate the world anymore, with people at each others throats literally and figuratively all the time, with good people and bad people on every side, I returned to a very old school of thought for myself. 

Be kind. 

What can “I” do every day? 

Yes, use my platform as a strong voice of advocacy, try to filter through everything to make sure I’m posting facts and not scare-mongering or leading anyone astray from what they should be seeing.

I’ve protested. Signed petitions. Written emails. I tried to raise awareness and bring everyone along with me on my journey as I learned, which I thought was helpful.

But I forgot about the most important thing, the thing that’s been ingrained in my head since I was a child for better for worse, the one thing that even though practiced vehemently, never always comes back guaranteed.

Be kind.

I lost that somewhere along the way, a bit. I could feel my soul hardening at how cruel some people can be, I felt how easy it was to smite and bash people’s names who have done far worse. I felt my eyes cloud with hate.

For a long time I thought the battle was human vs earth and I was always so sad to see how easily we destroyed such a precious gift. 

Now I know at its core that the real problem is human vs human: how to one up each other, how to be more successful, how to win, how to be MORE all the time. That feeling has been slowly poisoning us and our empathy and compassion towards others. That feeling is not about bettering oneself, it’s about greed and it spreads like cancer. 

For a long time, I didn’t want to “be kind” like a Disney princess anymore. I was tired of trying to use kindness as a shield as if people’s actions did not hurt me. I was mad at my kindness for blinding me and letting me get hurt. I thought the phrase “kill them with kindness” was stupid, because I was the one that kept getting hurt.

But my kindness did not do that to me. I did not do that to me.

People did. Hurt people. Confused people. People that had problems within themselves that were in no way a reflection of me. People with opposing views. Those people are not my fault. Those people don’t get to have their anger bleed in to my life, they don’t get to poison my disposition with their greed and animosity.

What can I do?

Every day, I can make a point to not be divisive. To not so easily make fun of things, belittle, call names, etc.

I can tone down my “complaining” online. I can not get so upset and rush to attack people that would be hard to get my point across to anyway online, so I don’t work myself up for hours about one internet troll when I could be doing other more important things. Why lose sanity over someone only wanting to argue? Why revert to the name bashing, why invite more stress and anger in to my life, even though there’s enough anyway with what’s going on in the world?

As I uncovered more history, had more awakenings and understandings, and dealt with my own personal stresses, I felt my strength oscillating and now I know why. I was so hardened with hate and disbelief, I felt like a fool living in a world that said it was something else. And...I left my best ally behind in my own rush for MORE.

Kindness. 

Empathy. Understanding. Patience.

So for July, I’ve decided to take care of myself a little more. Take care of others. Make sure that I am not contributing to anyone’s pain, and only being an ally to amplify voices that need to be heard. 

There’s a kinder way to say everything. There’s a kinder way to live. Amongst all this chaos, maybe if we were all a bit kinder, we could ease the waves of tension and calm the storm. Maybe if we could see past ourselves, we could make a lasting change for us all.

I changed my bio the other day. We must be like the sunflowers, pulling toxicity from the ground and air. Nature’s helper. I said I would be like that.

They don’t contribute anything negative, they just stand tall and strong, a mediating force in a world that needs purifying. 

So, I will armor myself with my strength, knowledge, and kindness. 

And see about tomorrow. 

[krisdreaming]

heY KUROO DRUNK GIRL STORY PART 3 PLEASE???????🥺

Eheheh I know, I know, it took me long enough, but here it is!!! The thrilling conclusion ;) This is pretty much just a self-indulgent first date with Kuroo scenario and it got really long oops :’) (tagging @igetcarriedawaywithyou bc I had to screenshot your ask - lmk if you want me to untag you!)

Part 1 | Part 2

-

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” You announce to your roommate, fidgeting with your phone in your lap as you wait for 6:00. She shakes her head.

“I don’t understand why you’re so nervous. You weren’t this nervous before your last date.”

You laugh wryly. “Yeah, and look what happened then!” You think back for the hundredth time, and shudder at the though of what could have happened - if it weren’t for Kuroo.

“I have a feeling this Kuroo guy isn’t going to stand you up.” She stabs her spoon into her bowl of ice cream, taking a giant spoonful. 

“I know.” You sigh. “I know!” You repeat more convincingly, a small smile coming to your face. You’ve been texting with Kuroo almost non-stop for the past week, and you haven’t felt this way about a guy for a while. If you’re honest, that’s what scares you the most.

“Besides, he’s picking you up here, and you’re not even going to a bar.” Her words are muffled around the ice cream in her mouth. “And you’re already half in love with him.”

“Am not.” You say, a little too quickly. She’s gracious enough to let it go with nothing more than a sly smile. Of course you’re not in love with him yet. You’ve only met him in person once, and circumstances were far from ideal. But with time - who knows? You shake your head before you can go too far down that rabbit trail.

Your phone chimes. He’s waiting for you outside. You swallow back the sudden bubble of nausea and get to your feet.

“Well, he’s here. I’ll see you later!” You give your roommate a wave and head for the door.

“Don’t hurl!” She calls after you cheerfully. You shut the door behind you without giving her a second glance.

“Hey.” Kuroo pushes away from the wall where he’d been waiting when he catches sight of you. He flashes you a smile that you can’t help but return. You’d been secretly wondering if he’d do something about his hair for your date, but it looks just as unruly as it had that night. For some reason, there’s something comforting about that fact, and you feel your nerves slowly begin to lessen.

“Hi.” You greet him, falling into step beside him.

“I do have to give you a disclaimer.” He says immediately. “We’re not exactly going to a coffee shop, but there’s this really cool place I want to show you. You’ll love it.” He promises. “We’ll have to take the train, though, if that’s alright with you.” He knocks his arm against yours.

“Fine with me.” You smile. After he learned that you’d only recently moved to the city, he insisted that he had to show you some of his favorite spots. You’re curious to see just what he has in mind.

The train is full, so you both end up standing. You’re used to being packed into the train at times, it comes with living in such a large, busy city, but you’re especially aware of him so close to you. When the train lurches, he has a hand at your elbow to make sure that you don’t lose your balance. You flash him a quick smile. Somehow, in the short time you’ve known him, it seems he’s always the one looking out for you.

By the time you get off the train, twilight has just begun to fall. The city is bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun, and it plays across Kuroo’s face. You duck your head when you realize he’s caught you staring, but all he does is smile and reach for the back of his neck.

 You walk a few blocks from the train station. “This way.” He guides you, and you take a turn down a quieter street, with fewer apartment buildings and business storefronts and more small shops. You’ve never been down this way before. It seems like a nice area to spend a Sunday afternoon.

“There’s a lot of cool places around here.” Kuroo speaks up. “They have great ramen there.” He points to a small restaurant, one you wouldn’t have even noticed if it wasn’t pointed out to you. “Oh, and that’s an amazing little coffee shop. They have the best brownies.” The small shop has a hand-painted sign in the window. You look at him in amazement.

“How do you find out about all of this stuff?”

He grins. “Lots of exploring. I just really enjoy it, you know? Finding all the little hole-in-the-wall places that most people don’t know about. It’s like a hidden treasure. There’s more places like that than you think.”

“Oh.” You breathe. “That sounds like so much fun.”

“Yeah?” He knocks his arm against yours again. You aren’t sure if it’s intentional, but you still feel your face getting warm. “Well I’ll have to take you sometime. I drag Kenma out with me most weekends.” Kenma - his best friend you note mentally. He’s talked about him before.

“I would really like that.” You nod. Your first date isn’t over, and he’s already talking about the second, as naturally as could be. You can’t help but smile to yourself. Whatever nerves and uncertainties you had been feeling earlier today, they’re completely dissolving.

“It’s just a few more blocks ahead.” He says, and you watch in front of you, your curiosity building. Finally, you approach a park of sorts, and as soon as you pass through the entrance you stop, looking around yourself in wonderment. There’s a walking path, and all along it are trees strung full of fairy lights. Their glow illuminates the intricately carved statues interspersed between them. There are a few small vendor carts as well, selling coffee and various festival foods. After a few moments of taking it in, you feel Kuroo’s hand nudge yours.

“So, what do you think?” He leans toward you and asks in a hushed voice.

“This is beautiful.” You breathe out. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Yeah, I found this park a few years ago. They have different art installations throughout the year, and they’re all pretty cool. This one’s gotta be my favorite, though.” He motions toward the food vendors. “What do you want? Take your pick.” 

You walk slowly between the stands before finally making your selection. “Thanks, Kuroo.” You finally say, when you have your treat in hand and the two of you have begun to make your way down the footpath. 

“What kind of date would I be if I didn’t buy you anything to eat?” He brushes it off with a wave of his hand.

“No, I mean… for everything. For this.” You wave your hand at your surroundings. “It’s got to be one of the coolest dates I’ve ever been on.”

“One of?” He gives you a teasing grin. “I’ll work on that for next time.” That’s the moment he knocks his hand against yours again, more purposefully, and you recognize the invitation. You turn your hand palm up, and he slides your hands together, fitting his fingers between yours. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and you smile at him, hoping it can convey everything you can’t put into words.

You walk slowly through the park, taking everything in. You’re talking the whole time. About nothing - about everything. You don’t realize how much time has passed until the lights in the trees flicker out, leaving only the harsher white park lighting. “Guess that’s our cue to leave.” Kuroo chuckles.

The train is much emptier than it had been earlier that evening. Still, you sit close together. Kuroo puts his arm loosely around your shoulders, and you let yourself lean ever-so-slightly into him. He has the same smell you remember from his coat the night you’d met - something warm and comforting that you can’t quite place.

Back in front of your apartment building, it’s finally time to say your goodbyes. Kuroo finally lets go of your hand. You don’t say anything at first, trying to drag it out just a little longer.

“I had a great time tonight.” Kuroo is the one to speak. “Honestly. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m really glad that guy didn’t show up for you last week. Is that insensitive?”

“Maybe.” You laugh. “But I know what you mean. Sure, it might’ve been more ideal if i met you when I was sober, but drunk me is sure glad you showed up when you did.” You pause, and the two of you simultaneously take a step closer together. You giggle softly.

“Don’t go to any more bars alone.” He scolds gently, a soft smile on his face.

You shake your head. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

When his face is only inches away from yours, he pauses. “Is this okay?”

You wrap your fingers into the fabric of his coat. “Perfect.” You breathe before tugging him close enough to cover the final distance between you. His kiss is warm and firm, and when you finally pull away, he follows after you for one final peck. He grins.

“Wanna go exploring with me next Saturday?”

You smile back, warmth slowly traveling through your whole body. “I’d love that.”