#and consequently spending a ridiculous amount of money on what seems to be the only available room in the whole city of seinäjoki

[theflyingfeeling]

...🤔

[a-clarice-dream]

Briatore would be committing quite possibly the worst move possible doing a dirty drop on Jack, especially with Australia being race no. 1 and it’s Jack’s home race. The Australian motor crowd seem to quite like Jack, he does a fair amount of local charity things and seems like a decent guy. He might spend a lot of time in Monaco and have been there as a kid, but he either isn’t uppity about it or knows better than to behave that way here (we like our athletes humble, or they will face Australian ridicule). All the other Motorsport fan Aussies I know are very much looking forward to seeing him race. Briatore would definitely get booed, or much worse - Sport is basically a religion in Melbourne, and I don’t think things have even settled here with Daniel Ricciardo’s unceremonious ousting.

Now for why I think it would be the worst:

Jack Doohan is the son of 5 time motoGP world champion Mick Doohan, beloved Australian legend. Mick Doohan was at the height of his career at the time Michael Schumacher was at his 2nd title, and they were apparently close friends and neighbours in Monaco. So close they were, that Michael’s son, Mick, is apparently named after Mick Doohan. Michael used to visit Mick Doohan and family in Australia. Jack has childhood memories of Michael’s visits, and has said on previous occasions that Michael is his racing hero, alongside his father. Jack’s very first kart was also gifted to him by Michael. Mick Doohan was heavily involved in MotoGP after his retirement from racing, and he was general manager of HRC for at least 2 of Valentino Rossi’s titles. Now, he has a very successful business in Australia providing aviation services and jet sales. There is capital M Money.

This is all to say, he’s very well connected and there’s definitely funds. I don’t wanna say there’s definitely money involved in this alpine deal, but I imagine there’s probably definitely sponsors (which if Otmar Szafnauer is to be believed, they absolutely need). Jack has also done his time as an alpine reserve driver and in testing (2ish years, after escaping the dreaded Redbull junior program) and deserves a chance.

If Briatore were to break the contract, not only would the optics for Alpine be shit, and I suspect they would lose some funding/sponsors. Not to mention, Doohan is well connected and who knows what else might play out as a consequence. I like Franco, but I don’t think he is enough of a draw card to break Doohan’s contract. I think Alpine would also risk tarring their academy program with the same publicity brush that Redbull has.

what about Jack Doohan and Flavio Briatore???

streets are saying Flavio wants to drop Jack and get Franco instead. it would be a terrible move but it's Briatore so who knows <3

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

"Tom Riddle effectively destroys the country from the inside out, which I believe was his true goal the entire time" (c) wait a second, so you think that he wasn't going to really take over or anything, just destroy the fuck out of w britain?

I have avoided this ask long enough.

I’ll start by saying that asking me about Tom Riddle is like staring down into a bottomless rabbit hole. We could travel down that path, but it is a dark and perilous journey, and by the end of it I will come out looking like the Mad Hatter.

It also requires a few prerequisites that you’re just going to accept as true (or else got off the crazy train here).

We know very little about Tom Riddle or Voldemort

What we do know of Tom Riddle comes to us from suspect sources

I’m just going to go out there and start with the basis that Tom is not crazy

Elaborating a little on number 1. We never actually see much of Tom Riddle or Voldemort directly. He’s a bit like Thanos in the MCU, or Palpatine in the first two movies of the Original Trilogy, he’s this looming threat that we pass by and glimpse every once in a while but never really get quality time with.

Generally, Voldemort makes an appearance in a moment of crisis.

He and Harry fight over the philosopher’s stone for Tom’s very survival. He and Harry fight over the diary for Tom’s very survival. He resurrects himself with Harry as a witness. We get those very strange dreams from Voldemort’s perspective (half of which we later learn are fabricated).

None of these really lend to our, or Harry’s for that matter, understanding of Tom Riddle. There’s too much going on, it usually happens far too fast, and there’s usually something Tom Riddle desperately wants or needs that eclipses all other concerns or else he has an audience.

This is part of the reason we get those Halfblood Prince pensieve lessons: Harry knows nothing of Tom Riddle and doesn’t understand him at all.

Which leads us, of course, to number 2, most of what we know about Tom Riddle comes from Dumbledore. I’ve talked about this before, so I won’t spend much time on it, but Dumbledore has a very clear agenda in relaying these memories to Harry. Dumbledore already has strong suspicions of what objects are horcruxes and where they’re located, he already has Snape as a very reliable agent to continue work when he’s gone, his job here is to convince Harry there is no path but suicide. And that involves portraying Tom Riddle as the most evil man who ever eviled, was born eviler than the antichrist, and will die eviler than the antichrist. 

Now, does this make Tom necessarily good or bad? No.

However, it does mean when Dumbledore tells us things like, “See, Harry, an impoverished child was upset when I lit all his belongings on fire! What a monster!” (especially given that, in a similar situation, Harry thought it was hilarious when Hagrid gave Dudley a permanent physical deformity and Harry was told he was an angel child) we should take it with a very large grain of salt.

Right, so, with all that backdrop what I’m getting at is that a) we can’t take Dumbledore at his word b) even if we could he could be wrong c) Harry doesn’t have the introspection to be able to figure himself when a or b is happening. I won’t elaborate on this last much, suffice to say that Harry’s world is very black and white, divided into the camps of those who personally like him and those who don’t.

So, why do I think Tom’s goal was not to rule the wizarding world but instead to destroy it?

A few things.

First, there are so many easier ways he could have ended up ruling the wizarding world. More, even when he effectively does rule the wizarding world in book seven, he takes very strange actions so that he’s never directly in power.

Second, I never really bought Tom’s racism. It’s too convenient and too contradictory with his backstory.

The second first, because we’re going out of order today. I’ve gone over this before, but I don’t believe Tom had minions early and I think he was effectively treated as a muggleborn (see here and here) until he took on the Voldemort persona many decades later. I’m hard pressed to believe someone as intelligent, angry, and proud as Tom Riddle would willingly believe and accept he was inferior to the likes of Abraxas Malfoy. More, even if he wished he was a halfblood, I think the evidence of him being muggleborn would be stacked too high against him to deny even to himself (and when he finds out it’s not true, he has maybe a month or so before he realized that he’s the bastard son of a squib). 

And it’s just so convenient. All the people with the power, with the money, who are itching for a cause against a threat that doesn’t really exist believe in blood purity. Ergo, Voldemort shows up suddenly espousing over the top blood purity rhetoric (rhetoric that directly clashes with his “there is only power” philosophy at that). 

In other words, I think Tom Riddle gave himself a line that he knew would get him places very quickly.

And now for the first. For a guy who has had the entire country in the palm of his hands twice, one time taking it over in a bloodless coup, he’s really big on causing collateral damage and really small on actually doing the ruling thing.

The first wizarding war, Tom Riddle as Voldemort has the backing of the heirs of the most prestigious and wealthy noble houses save a select few. These are people with seats in the Wizengamot, which has a frightening control over the government itself (including the minister of magic). I imagine, in 1980 had Tom Riddle wanted to be elected as Minister of Magic, he would have been elected as Minister of Magic. If he wanted a friendly face in office then he probably could have made that happen to.

More than even this though, by this point, Tom had already won. By having control over the majority of the Wizengamot he owns the government. He’s done, it’s over, it’s finished, and many of the characters admit as much which is why Harry Potter was such a miracle. So why all the seemingly random, exceptionally pointless, terrorism? 

One answer is that Voldemort is crazy bananas. And sure, I guess we can go with that, except for someone insane he’s oddly effective and very consistent. 

I believe Tom was systematically destroying the very foundations of the country through its core aristocratic families. Within a few short years Tom decimates the Black family, it goes from having five heirs to none, and while some of this isn’t Tom’s fault he does take care of quite a few of them. He brands Lucius for life, while Lucius rises high in politics he never escapes the stigma of being a known Death Eater and in the end cannot escape the consequences for his actions. The Malfoy family is very nearly destroyed by the end of the series, had Draco died in the Fiendfyre. The LeStrange family, presumably decimated as well.

More, this is mostly me headcanoning, but I imagine Tom fuels an extremism that the Wizarding World had never contemplated. I imagine, previously, anti-muggleborn sentiment was probably fairly rampant among purebloods. Oh, some were very pro-muggleborn I’m sure, but I think most were fairly “eh” on the people and felt they were a drain on society (such as requiring constant funding for the obliviation department).

However, when Diagon Alley starts getting blown up every other week, when muggleborns start being tortured and murdered, when purebloods who aren’t anti-muggleborn enough are being tortured and murdered, this starts wigging people out in a way they’ve never wigged out before.

By the time we get to Harry Potter’s canon, it is now only a minority that are anti-muggleborn, and they’re perceived as raving lunatics. Nobody wants to be grouped with these people. Which, just goes to show, how much Voldemort rattles the wizarding world in a very small amount of time.

Then there’s Deathly Hallows, rather than become minister himself Voldemort installs a puppet minister. He shows no signs of wishing to change this and instead does things like destroy the sorting hat (which again shakes the very foundations of the wizarding world as whta will we do if we don’t know who’s a Gryffindor anymore?!)

So, where is this ramble going?

Given the results we see, that more than any others it seems to be the purebloods and often Tom’s own followers that suffer colossal losses, I think Tom’s actions are, in part, a means of vengeance against the entire damn wizarding world (but especially the purebloods).

He makes fools of these people, brands them as his slaves, and has them participate in the most over the top ridiculous rituals (the cloaks, the masks, the entire theatrics of it feels like Tom got drunk one night and planned this whole thing out). He destroys them entirely, and better, enables them to completely destroy themselves and the country they believe they’re trying to save.

Basically, I think by the time the series begins Tom is fueled by a nihilist rage that knows no bounds. But dammit all, the wizarding world is going to burn.

[soyouthinkucanwrite]

The money thing (part 1/2) - Daniel Ricciardo

It's always the little things, isn't it? The smallest stupidest things make almost no difference and then make all the difference in the world. They make everything special, but they also have the power to tear everything appart.

You and Daniel fight about money for the thousand time and he's had enough of it.

Warnings: super angst, but with a happy ending :)

Guys, this turned out WAY BIGGER than I expected, so I'm just gonna do a part 2, okay? Okay, thanks for understanding!

Song that inspired me: A list by HVOB

You and Daniel had been dating for a couple months now, having met through a common friend and hitting off almost instantly. You lived in Amsterdam and he, well he lived all over the world really, but his "time off" (meaning not racing) was spent between Monaco and London (for work), and Amsterdam now too, of course.

The changes were small and subtle at the beginning, like your weekends being spent traveling to meet him wherever in the world he was and consequently spending almost all your savings on plane tickets. You never complained to him (you planned on spending the money traveling anyway, so you didn't see the point), but didn't accept when he offered to buy your tickets, either. There's been some awkwardness around the subject but it usually died on its own.

*beginning of flashback*

"You’d have gotten here in time if you'd gotten the early flight like I told you" you remembered him saying that time you got in the paddock after the qualifying session had begun and couldn’t kiss him good luck.

"Baby, I told you. It was crazy expensive! Absurd even!"

"(y/n) for god's sake! What are we saving money for? I told you, you have my credit card number, I've offered to get you one, this is ridiculous, I can't believe I literally earn millions and my girlfriend wasn't there with me because the ticket was too expensive! I'll fucking fly you private if I have to!" he was almost yelling in his driver's room. You could only stare from the corner.

He took a deep breath running his hands through his hair. "Sorry. It's just... it was crap out there. I needed you" you grimaced at his words.

"Sorry. I really am..." you tried to approach him. "I'm here now?" you touched his arm. "It can't have been that bad, you're still on the top 10 and we both know what you can do from the 8th car..." you smiled at him.

*end of flashback*

He started to spend much more of his time off with you at your place, so you decided to get a place by yourself (having a roommate was great for company and splitting the rent, but having a roommate there while you guys just wanted some much-needed privacy was not working). Then there were more traveling to meet him, furniture for the new place, clothing for all the events (GPs or not), uber rides here and there... all of that without mentioning that you weren't being able to get the freelance jobs you used to get to make some extra money, so yeah, to say things were tight was an understatement. You tried to do all your shopping alone, so he wouldn't offer and you wouldn't refuse or be awkward about it, but Daniel seem to be glued to you whenever you were in the same city (not that you’re complaining).

He started to spend much more of his time off with you at your place, so you decided to get a place by yourself (having a roommate was great for company and splitting the rent, but having a roommate there while you guys just wanted some much-needed privacy was not working). Then there were more traveling to meet him, furniture for the new place, clothing for all the events (GPs or not), uber rides here and there... all of that without mentioning that you weren't being able to get the freelance jobs you used to get to make some extra money, so yeah, to say things were tight was an understatement. You tried to do all your shopping alone, so he wouldn't offer and you wouldn't refuse or be awkward about it, but Daniel seem to be glued to you whenever you were in the same city (not that you’re complaining).

The thing is, you always had trouble dealing with money. Sure, you liked to pay for your own stuff so as to not owe anything to anyone (especially boys), but it was so much deeper than that. Ever since a kid, you hated asking for money from your parents, and sometimes even the thought of buying stuff that was a bit more expensive made you sick. You couldn't explain why, you just felt guilty having so much and knowing that most people have never even seen that amount. It's not that you didn't want to spend it and save for the sake of it, you just didn't handle the idea of money very well. Needless to say, dating a millionnaire was bound to cause trouble in the relationship for you.

You were currently at his place in Monaco. It was the summer break and you had decided to spend some days just chilling at home, just the two of you - which you were glad since going out means hair, makeup, clothes, accessories, shoes... and, let's be honest, the kind of places he usually took you is not the kind of places you just throw something together last minute (the Instagram models and other driver's girlfriends looking you up and down were enough to make you think about spending money you did not have to hire a stylist or something like that). The whole situation was really stressing you out and you knew you would have to be honest with him eventually, instead of only dodging the subject and refusing most of his offers to pay. You tried to. You kind of tried. You suggested staying at home, in bed, most of the time, and he gladly agreed, but that strategy wasn't gonna work forever. You had to be honest with him. But at the same time, you knew what he was going to say and do, and the thought of him spending money on you, even if just by handling the restaurant bill, wasn't something you were much more comfortable with. Besides, it was only a matter of time before the "gold-digger" term starts to fly around in the small world that was the F1's.

You were laying on his couch, the Olympics playing on the TV but you were too busy overthinking the money thing to pay attention. Daniel was laying with his head on your lap, absently caressing your thigh and watching the TV. His phone went off and he moved to pick it up.

"Hello?" you watched as he answered the phone. "Hey mate, how's it going? Uh nothing, we're just chilling at home. Getting some rest... Yeah, I'm getting rested, you dirty-minded son of a bitch" you rolled your eyes while he laughed out loud on the line with someone. "Yeah, I know... the 19th is it? No, it's fine. Yeah, yeah. I'll be there. Alright, mate. Thanks for calling. Have a good one! Bye!" he hanged up and leaned in to peck you on the lips.

"Good news?" you asked him.

"Not really. Just wanted to kiss you" he shrugged, smiling. You smiled back and hugged him, pulling him in for another kiss. He was always so caring with you, always finding an excuse to kiss or touch you. You knew some people didn't like it, but you loved it. Physical touch was definitely one of your love languages.

"What's happening on the 19th then?" you asked him once you guys set apart from the kiss.

"Gotta be in London. Gonna run some testings and other boring race stuff..."

"Hum..." you hummed in understanding.

"You know what would make it less boring though?" he asked and you just looked at him, you already knew what he was going to ask you and it wasn't that you didn't want to spend every minute of the day with him, but you simply couldn't afford any more traveling, especially not in such short notice. "If you came with me. Huh? What do you say? A week in the Queen's land? Then we can fly together to Spa and after the race, I can go with you to Amsterdam. The next one it's the Dutch GP anyway, I'll just get there sooner" he laughed. It was crushing you, the man of your dreams was literally beaming at making plans with you, talking about spending the next few weeks glued together and you couldn't say yes.

"Dan, I have to work" you smiled sadly.

"Can't you work from distance? Or, I don't know, I mean... I know it's tiring, but you could come to London and fly home a bit early, then just meet me in Belgium?" great, his solution includes even more flying. And the thing is, you really didn't mind the flying. You always slept during the whole thing anyway, so you never got tired and the jetlag was minimal. You could work from distance, sure. Your boss wouldn't mind, as long as you got there eventually to check in on everything. But the whole logistics were just too expensive. There was no way you could afford it.

"I... sorry, I don't think I can" you said sadly and watched as his face dropped.

"That's fine, baby. I get it. I'm asking too much, all this traveling... don't worry about it" he tried to mask his emotions but you knew better. He knew you could in fact work from distance, so he was probably thinking the reason you couldn't do it was because you didn't want to.

He got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. Meanwhile, you couldn't help but bury your face in your palms. This was so frustrating!

"You wanna go for a run or something? Maybe get something to eat?" he called from the kitchen, already moving on from the subject. You knew this whole thing was only gonna keep build up till he got tired of your excuses or you blowing up, probably the former, but you just keep going.

"Yeah, sure" you answered, getting up from the couch.

You and Daniel were both very active so going for a run, hiking, riding bikes, or whatever in the middle of the day was really routine for you. The Monaco summer weather was as beautiful as always and the sun was shining bright. You enjoyed the rest of your afternoon racing each other, kissing in the harbor, and just taking in the views, spending quality time together. Money wasn't even a thing in your bubble for a while.

"I'm getting hungry" he said on the way back home.

"Me too, and I'm super hot. I could go for a juice or something right now" you were all sweaty from the running, but you didn't care, he was too.

"You're always hot baby, I don't think juice gonna help with that" he grinned at you and you just rolled your eyes at him.

You passed by one of his favorite spots for food, nearby his place and he suggested getting some take-out, to which you agreed.

"Green juice, and a chicken wrap?" you tried to decide while the both of you waited in line.

"I'll never understand how you drink that"

"I've seen you drink that too, it's actually very refreshing"

"Because I'm forced to, I'm a high-performance athlete baby. But I'm on a break, so I'll have a coke, thank you very much" you laughed at him. He was holding your hand and tried to kiss you, wrapping his arm around you, you didn't dodge his kiss, you would never, but still laughed at the fact he wanted to kiss the sweaty mess you were right now.

"I'm gross, only you" you laughed.

"That's my baby, with no makeup she a ten" he rapped shrugging and grinning.

"Alright Lil Wayne, I know that one, don't even finish the verse" you laughed at him, making him laugh out loud, getting everyone's in the restaurant's attention.

"It's true, though"

"Sure..." You just shook your head smiling. Then you heard someone call his name.

"Hey! Daniel!" you both turned around to see Charles and Charlotte sitting in a corner, him waving at you two. You had met Charles a couple of times before but never spoke too much to him. They seemed to be leaving anyway, so they walked towards you guys, instead of towards the door.

"Hey mate, how's it going?" Daniel greeted him with a handshake. "Hey, Charlotte! You know (y/n) yet?"

"Hi! I don't think so, hi! How are you?" she greeted you smiling.

"Hi! Nice to meet you. Hi, Charles!" you said.

"Hey, (y/n). You're keeping him in line during the break? Char won't let me cheat my diet either" he laughed.

"Oh, that ship has sailed long ago! Daniel will just roll into the paddock if it's up to him" you laughed back.

"Hey! I think I've earned the right to some extra calories, we've been working out extra hard lately" Daniel said waving his eyebrows suggestively, making Charlotte giggle, Charles rolls his eyes and you go even redder than you were from the actual workout, while he just laughed out loud.

"I don't even want to know" Charles said. "Always great running into you mate" he was getting ready to say goodbye.

"Are we seeing you guys tomorrow?" Charlotte asked you.

"Tomorrow?" you asked her.

"Stefano's birthday" she said like it was obvious. Stefano Domenicali was the President and CEO of Formula 1, but you didn't know that yet - still, her tone made it seems like it was someone Daniel knew, so you just looked at him. He just rubbed his neck, looking a little embarrassed. "Oh, wait. Please tell me I didn't just said something I shouldn't" she looked at Charles.

"No, no. He invited me. Us, actually" Daniel reassured her. "I don't think we're going though, forgot to mention to you" he said looking at you.

"Uh mate, I wouldn't skip that if I were you. He didn't even invite all the drivers I heard" Charles said. "Maybe just stop by to say hello?"

"Stop by... a yacht... at the sea?" Charlotte said grinning at him. Daniel looked at you.

"You feel like going? It should be fun" he asked you.

"Sounds fancy... I mean, I don't mind if you go" you said.

"Common... I’m not going alone" he nudged you.

"I don't even have anything to wear, Dan" you told him.

"Oh! We can go shopping together!" Charlotte said and you had almost forgotten they were still there.

"Perfect!" Daniel answered for you. You could only imagine the types of stores she shopped.

"Tomorrow morning, then? Daniel can text your address to Charles for me? I'll pick you up!" she was being really nice about it.

"I thought you wanted to go today?" Charles said.

"That's when I thought I would have to go shopping with you, so I could use the extra time since you're the worst shopping partner ever!" she laughed at him.

"Burn!" Daniel laughed.

"His fashion taste is not the most reliable, let's face it" she laughed and kissed his cheek. "It's a date then (y/n)?" she looked expectantly at you. You didn't want to let her down, it was so hard to make friends with the girlfriends of other drivers, they were usually so... not nice. You could always just help her and find something to wear in your own stuff later.

"Yeah, sure! See you tomorrow, at 10?" you said simply.

"Perfect!" she beamed.

>>> end of part 1 <<<

[jjkpls]

first love (m)

genre : fluff, angst, light smut

pairing : kim seokjin x reader (f)

word count : 4.6k

warnings/content : mentions of sexual intercourse, mature language, infidelity, separated parents, unresolved past relationship, dad!seokjin, mom!reader

Seokjin doesn't mean to overreact. He knows he shouldn't. Knows you hate it. Knows, because he's been told enough times, that these types of reactions are unnecessary and possibly harmful for a child.

He can't really help it when deep down he knows he was meant to be an actor. Right before his actual birthday, his mother had dreamt of giving birth on a theatre stage, for God's sake.

But his father wasn't into it, given his ambitions, his own growing company and all the promising opportunities he envisioned both for him and for his only son. Therefore Seokjin went to law school, graduated with excellent mentions, followed an accelerated program in business development and managing and joined his father exactly where he was expected.

He isn't exactly complaining.

He likes his job, most of the time, likes the money and luxury that come with it especially and appreciates the work safety.

Now, you can't blame him for being quite the drama queen in his everyday life. All that pent up, buried alive passion for the arts of acting need to express, somehow.

That's what he'd say to you when you used to yell at him for starting weeping loudly in your ear when he'd call you to cancel a date last minute because he couldn't come, instead of just, cancelling it, aplogize, get over it like a normal person.

Or when you'd kick him in the ribs because he'd be all wild gestures and screeching screams when he'd teach your son to ride a bike and he would fall, as he should to learn, making the boy cry even when he wasn't hurt, solely from the projection of his dad's fear.

You're not here to tell him yourself but the glazed, annoyed roll of his son's eyes tells him precisely what you would. Those eyes are the worst. The prettiest he's ever seen. The ones he loves the most. The ones you also wear on your own pretty face.

"Since when?" He has a hand pressed to his chest, preventing a heart attack it seems, gaze wide and alarmed. Timothy sighs.

"A while. They were already together for Valentine's Day-" He explains patiently. That kid is sweet. The way he's slumped over, obviously annoyed to have to be the one telling his dad and having to deal with the consequences but still, he's watching over him with a soft eye, mouth torn in a sympathetic pout. He wouldn't mind his parents to get back together even though he is almost sure it wouldn't be a good idea for the both of you. He's heard tales of dysfunctional families, of parents hurting each other and their children and doesn't want that for any of you. He can't imagine it happen. You two are too good for that. That's probably why you had decided to separate in the first place.

Seokjin is quickly making maths in his head. Not really counting the time but situating himself in that time frame. Where was he at when she was out with this guy? What was he doing?

He may have been in Japan when it started. He remembers a call from you, you were asking him to take Timothy for a couple of days. You sounded embarrassed and he didn't know why but couldn't take the time to investigate, he had a flight expecting him and a conference call waiting to start in a couple of minutes. Important stuff. None of it would have mattered if he had known what you were up to.

"You okay, dad?" Timothy asks, awkward but kind. His mom basically.

"Devastated." Seokjin says with the widest grin on his face. He's not devastated. It'd be ridiculous to be for something absolutely predictable, fair and normal. He's not mad, nor disappointed. You deserve to be seeing people, have them desire you and make you feel good. He wishes it were him but if he can't do that, if you won't let him, he's glad you still can allow someone else to do it.

He's surprised though, he can't lie about that.

Honestly. That's stupid. But he didn't expect one second that you were seeing someone. You never mentioned anything and you didn't look like it. If there's a way you look when you're dating.

He remembers rosy cheeks and short skirts. You were younger.

"You think it's serious?" He asks casually, surprising even himself. His heart is in a turmoil but he showed enough to Timothy, acting like he was half dying, gasping for air and all.

"I don't know. She doesn't want to bring him home yet. Like, introduce him to me. I asked." Timothy, not only is he nice, he is smart. He's thirteen, shouldn't know much about Love and adults' matters yet. He's supposed to still be at that stage when one believes children and adults are two very distinctive race of humans, one that depends on the other and the other having it all figured it out, having reached a certain knowledge and expertise on all things and can't really be wrong on accident.

Timothy knows precisely what his dad would love to hear. And he gives it to him. Not to feed him vain hopes. Not even for this tiny hidden greed to have you back together. Simply because it's the truth and if for once the truth is pleasant to hear, then he should give it. Seokjin's smile only gets brighter. He shares a glance with his son, a glint winking his way and Timothy rolls his eyes, unable to hide the lift of the corners of his lips.

"Anyway, I heard you won that science fair at school?" Seokjin has already left his seat on Timothy's bed. He's rummaging through his leather bag and Timothy knows what it means. He has a present for him. Seokjin always has a present for him. Most of the time, he can justify it by some event or some success Timothy had encountered. The thing is they don't see each other that often, therefore, almost systematically, something new has come about and Seokjin can explain why he's brought a brand new console, a new laptop, a TV for his room or that one limited edition of this way too expensive branded pair of sneakers.

You used to get really mad at that. You'd say that he shouldn't, that he didn't need to bring him all these expensive stuff because what he'd like (it was a long time ago when Timothy was too young to have his own opinion and you would speak for him) is for his dad to be here more often. You'd say he wouldn't have to buy him shit for any other times than Christmas and his birthday if only he could be here for him. His dad would be his present.

It caused a lot of drama, a lot of crying. You had made sure not to scream, not to be too angry but Timothy felt from the way you squeezed him hard against your bosom that you were very upset. His dad had apologized, had said the most with his eyes only for you to understand. Timothy was staring, trying to get it too because he was involved, wasn't he? But that was one of those adults moments he wasn't allowed to participate in yet.

From then on, his dad wasn't late anymore when he'd set dates with him, his phone would be turned off when they were together and he would text him more often.

It was really nice. Because at first, Timothy felt that maybe if his dad wasn't so present it was because he didn't want to. For some reasons. He thought maybe he was too much of a coward or too nice possibly, to leave you two altogether, to disappear from your lives and start another one somewhere else, one he would have chosen and shaped as he'd want. Turns out Seokjin really appreciated his son and the time he got to spend with him. The more time they spend together, the more Timothy is met with awed eyes and whistling lips, impressed as his dad is by his smartness, his humour and hidden talents. He just was very busy. You explained that to him. That he was passionate by his work, that it required a sacrificial amount of time in one's life, and that he shouldn't ever take it personally because even he loved you and couldn't give you that time.

It's the conversation that led him to think that maybe his parents are meant to be, except they won't because... circumstances.

In any case, no matter how often they meet now, Seokjin still brings him gifts each and every time. The difference is that he has to think of a reason, sometimes make one up to not be struck down by your fury.

"Yes, I did."

"Of course, you did! Cause my son is the smartest." Timothy waits for the moment he says that his brain and the magic fuel filling it all come from him. It doesn't come. Instead, a neat white box is held in front of his face. There's a pretty tie made of ribbons glued in the middle, to hide the picture of what's inside, but there's no doubt that this is an iPhone. He rips the tie off and surprise surprise it's the iPhone 12.

"Mom is going to kill you." Timothy says first, before even thanking him, heart pounding from excitement and face split in two by the wide banana grin.

"Probably." He shrugs, unapologetic.

"Thanks, dad!" Timothy doesn't forget to add, eyes shiny and toothy grin even shinier.

He hopes so. That you're going to be mad. You two are too old to have petty fights now. You don't waste your energy in screaming and finding the worst things to say to hurt his feelings. You just cross your arms under your tits, clench your jaws and adopt that pout on your mouth, eyelids low and eyebrows high, the embodiment of condescendence and you look sexy as hell. He smiles and winks at you, calls you by an old pet name and you're swooning even though you try to hide it. No one is charming like he is, and no one charms you as he does therefore he's not too worried.

His son was just going around with this prehistorical device you dared to call a smartphone. With the broken screen, and the non-functioning selfie cam and the safari app needing a good ten minutes to charge one fucking page -this was deliberate as you wanted him to have a phone to call and text you and not go and lose himself on the internet or whatever. He's almost fourteen though and he's doing a great job at school and is such a good kid at home, he deserves it.

"I know and I don't care. I don't need you to tell me my son is good." You are infuriated. The perfect picture of you he had imagined, the only difference is that, you've just walked out of work, you seem to have had a rough day and your hair is a mess. With the wild locks hanging off of your bun, framing your pretty face, you look even better. "I don't want him to have something so expensive on him, first of all."

"His dad is richer than Cresus, what do you expect?" The cockiness dripping from every pore should suffice to make you explode. Of course, it doesn't. He has that stupid side grin. The one he's got you with in the first place.

"And what about- internet and even just the darn AppStore? He's too young to-"

"Are you worried about porn?" He frowns, you flush. That's precisely one of the things you think about. You don't want him to fall upon stuff he doesn't need to see -in your opinion for a good ten years at least- or start taking interest in social medias where creepy fuckers could hang out.

You flush because apparently, it's a word complicated still to hear from him. "I've made a parental software installed in it. And a localisation too. Not that we really need it with him but you know."

"Oh." All tension escapes from your torn face and tensed shoulders.

"Oh, wow, my first love is such a good dad." He mocks, voice high, hardly resembling yours, barely biting back a smirk. He even goes as far as swiping the right side of his bangs back, eyes closed, mannerism insufferable.

"Shut up." More flush. A fist to his chest for punishment. Bad idea. Apparently, he went back to the gym.

"You should be nicer because I have something for you too." He says, eyes glancing mischievously as his hand dips in the pocket of his trench coat. "Well. I don't want it." You cross your arms on your chest again which only serves to push your tits forward to him and he wonders what you're playing at. Probably the same game he plays when he winks and smiles and lifts his eyebrow to you.

"Wait 'til you see it." He sees the moment you realize it's a jewellery box. He reads the instant wild excitement, he catches also the gloomy shadow you try to paint over it because you don't want to accept it. How many times does he need to be told to stop? He won't ever stop.

"You can't buy me, Seokjin." You're eyeing the velour box in his hand, a tiny beautiful red in this large pearly white palm. You want it. You always do. You don't dare uncross your arms though because you know that if you even do something as reckless as taking it in your hand, just to have a look at it, you won't be able to refuse it.

"Of course, I can." More of that smirk. You glare, it makes him wheeze as he does.

You have never ever been able to refuse any of his shiny presents. You're not a gold digger, that's precisely why you felt so guilty all the time, accepting to receive from him things you could never afford for him -or yourself. He's born richer than you'll ever be, he loves to spend it on his loved ones -and on cars and designer clothes- and amongst everything else he loves, he adores covering you in shiny little rocks.

No one has ever worn diamonds the way you do. You look beautiful without them, magnificent with them. They were made to enhance your beauty and you were made to give them sense.

"You're such a dick." You say, tone way too monotonous to still have been in total control of your free will. Your eyes are glued to the shine of the two dainty clear earrings nested in the case. He's holding it open in front of your nose, like a hypnotizing stick. He sees your determination wavers. Your arms have just untied. Your hand is getting close. He smiles already savouring his victory.

"Take them, petal, I don't think your new boy could ever afford them." Your hand freezes mid-track, face falling you look up. He's a bit surprised to see guilt in those eyes. Shame and guilt. Even though, you have the right to see whoever you want. Obviously.

"How-" His head tilts slightly towards the hallway, where the bedrooms and the one Timothy is in, probably playing with his new phone. "Great. Bribing our son into giving you off my personal information."

"I gave him the iPhone after he told me." Seokjin feels the need to precise. His son loves him and he confided for this very reason. He wants to believe. He hopes that it's not because he's worried his dad would have a mental breakdown if he were to learn the news the day his mom would invite him to their wedding or something.

You sigh. You don't know what to say it seems. He doesn't want you to feel upset. He's not going to congratulate you either. He can't.

"Take them."

"He could- he's a doctor, you know." You sound like a petty little girl saying that, fingers aiming for the box but mouth reshaped by contempt.

Thankfully, the mesmerizing glee on your lovely face makes up for this last information.

A doctor.

He snorts, huffs and rolls his eyes.

"Are you really being disdainful over the noblest of all professions?"

"I bet he's not as handsome as I am." Seokjin says, staring away into space in a very Vogue kind of pose.

"And it's relevant because your face saves lives too, right?" You add to his clownery, biting on the smile wanting to take over your face.

"Precisely." You're already putting them on, watching your fingers work in the reflection on the microwave door. He's loving it. One is on, reflecting the light coming from the window, bringing a new sense to your whole stance. You don't look tired anymore. You look very fancy. Sexier than before. Your butt sways a little in excitement when you take a new look at yourself, now beautifully decorated and he's reminded of an idea he once had but never got to realize.

He wanted to have a fashion designer make a garter holder made of tiny diamonds. Solely diamonds. It would fit you just right, maybe a bit tight on you, would dig slightly in the meat of your thighs, enough to look fucking sinful and not too much so it doesn't hurt. He was quite young when he had the idea first and was probably not rich enough to make it happen.

He now owns a few palaces perched on the last stage of skyscrapers in three of the most expensive cities in the world and he would sell one in a beat if it meant he could get that for you and see you wear it for him.

You'd probably end up accepting it and then wear it for your new boy so that's out the question.

He doesn't hesitate when he reaches a hand forward, slip his fingers through the tie holding your hair in a bun and slide it off. You don't even flinch, he's still allowed to do that.

"You look beautiful."

"Thank you." You whisper with a smile, both for the compliment and for the present.

"You went to the hair salon." You nod, forcing yourself not to show your surprise. He doesn't need it to throw himself some flowers, "See? I noticed." He adds with way too much pride for so little.

"Your lenses work, congratulations." Sarcasm is the only answer to his stupidity, you both have figured this out long ago. "Is he nice?" Seokjin can't help but ask. He doesn't want to know too much about him. Kind of hopes that it won't be necessary as the guy won't last too long. But he can't resist his curiosity.

"Yes." You say without much of a hesitation. "Last week, he took me to this nice French restaurant in Songpa." You tell, eyes looking away, a bit pensive, mindlessly playing with one strand of your hair. Your face is taken over by that air. Seokjin realizes then that you really like him.

"I used to take you to very nice restaurants all the time, remember?" He's just messing around now. He knows it's not that relevant. Knows it won't get him higher in your regard,

"And I would spend half the date with the waiter while you'll have yours with your phone. I do remember." Especially given you don't recall your common past the same.

He does remember now that you mention it. His memory has been awfully selective and mainly, what he could picture when he thought about those times, is how beautiful you looked, how much he wanted you and felt like even sitting right next to you, he couldn't satisfy that need, was missing you even if you were right there, and the mind-blowing sex too. The later probably happening because he owed to make it up to you because indeed, his job was on the dates too and you hated that. He remembers the late mornings, the lazy ones, you'd make him carry you on his back because your legs and your hips hurt too badly.

"Ouch!" Toppling over, hand on his bosom where it actually really hurts, he yelps in agony, pretending to have been shot. You giggle and slap his shoulder, pester him to stop when you both hear Timothy ask from his room if everything's okay. You'd think he would know by now that his dad is just a clown whose shenanigans shouldn't be taken seriously.

"Are you seeing someone these days?" What a shame, Seokjin really thought for once he'd be solely cool and collected and handsome. Instead, he can feel his ears start to burn in embarrassment, walks a few steps back, pretending to want to throw a glance through the window when really, he'd do anything to not have see you notice.

"Someone?" He huffs. "Some three, actually some four or five. You know how the ladies get with me-" He sounds dumb as hell. It suffices to make you laugh. You've always laughed at his antics. Even when you were going through complicated times, like the pregnancy and the soon to follow break up, he'd try to dry your cheeks and lighten your gaze, heartbroken as he was to see you like that, and it would always work.

"And I know how bad you are with maths." He nods, doesn't look at you, simply stares at the shiny tip of his italian shoes. "You should call me sometimes, Jin." You don't need to tell him, he knows. You say that to him almost every single time. It's just you being kindhearted, the way you've always been. But first, he hates the idea that somehow, to some degree, it's a pity hand you're holding out for him. And secondly, he knows he'll fuck up if he calls.

He won't be able to talk about his job or politics or what's on the dumb tv these days. He'd probably start by asking what you're wearing and end it all by serenading you. What a bad idea. "You don't ever call, only Tim. Which is fine but-" He is lonely, he does miss you, but he's not that stupid. "I miss you too, you know." You look awfully sincere when you say this. There's still a sad shade to your eyes and he suspects it comes from you worrying about him rather than you simply wanting him more in your life. Maybe it's there for both reasons. He can't be mad at you for caring about him still, can he? Ultimately, it's sweet. It's not your fault he tends to be a loser in his very personal life.

He wouldn't know who he is trying to comfort when he strides forward and place a kiss on your cheek. The other one he's cradling in his palm feels warmer the longer he touches it. He doesn't let it go once he backs up and away. You're looking up to him with your eyes looking all round and childish. Quiet and in expectancy. You look like you do when you would wait for him to kiss you. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip and he smirks.

"Expecting me to kiss you?" He asks with an eyebrow raised high. Pretend judgment in his tone, even remonstrance. As if. "How scandalous, when you already have a boyfriend." You know he's just kidding and he can tell that. He wouldn't play with that if he wasn't sure. He doesn't want to hurt your feelings, make you feel wrong or bad in any way. He loves you too much for that. You could let him kiss you and he wouldn't hold you accountable for it. Therefore he does. Because he's dying to since the last time it happened a couple of weeks back. And when your own lips welcome his, with that much willing and tenderness, he suspects you've had too.

He doesn't allow it to go too far. He thought you would stop him, at some point, but you don't. He's the one pulling away when his tongue, instinctively, means to reach out for your own. He knows what comes after that, and what comes after that and after and after. And even if you transpire guilt and shame, he can sense in the way your eyes stare into his that you would have let it all happen.

He's not lacking in desire, he hopes you know that. Honestly, since earlier, and that random flash of the diamond garter holder, his brain is half clouded by the thought of your thighs and his face buried in between them. You used to make the most delicious sounds, pulling at the root of his hair and chasing your high with your hips. Also now that he's met your mouth again and he envisioned what could happen if he just let go, he can't help but think about that dresser in your room. The gigantic thing you wanted him and Timothy to put together as sort of a father and son enterprise to bound or whatever - he ended up paying a guy to do it for them and they played Mario Kart instead but you don't need to know that. Point of the matter is, that massive dresser has a massive mirror on its door and that massive mirror sits perfectly in front of your bed. And all he can think about is how bad he'd like to fuck you on your bed while you'd watch yourself in it. He'd pull back your hair, hold in tight in his fist like he knows you love so you could see your own cute face while his cock would reshape your cunt to its fitting, all this with the pretty little shiny earrings adorning your ears.

Fuck, what a concept.

And it is to say that right now, he knows, you'd let him. He's not that wicked though. He feels your too weak to resist him today therefore he's not even going to chance it. He doesn't want you to do something you'd hate yourself for afterwards.

"I should go, I still have documents to send for a new contract before-" He takes a look at the expensive watch heavy on his wrist, you roll your eyes. "Half an hour ago, great." He offers you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes no matter how hard he tries before he's off to the hallway, giving you his broad back. "I'm going to say bye to Tim."

"It's just- like that, Seokjin." The words are pretty badly chosen. They don't mean much. Seokjin still gets it though. He can picture you behind him, shrugging your shoulders and tilting your head to the side. It doesn't mean much.

"I know, petal. Don't worry." He throws over his shoulder, faux lightness in his tone even though his heart feels raw. It doesn't mean enough, is more accurate. This kiss like every single one of your shared looks and words and bickering and touches, they all mean that you still fit perfectly good together. However, it's not enough because somehow, someday, you came to the conclusion that you were not meant to be. He's confused as to why and how he agreed with you then. Here's the main reason why he never calls you.

When Timothy looks up from his new phone, wearing your eyes and his smile, he feels a whole new range of pain affected to his sensitized heart. How can you not see that you're meant to be?

A/N: Happy Lunar New Year :) this little thingy was inspired by Arsène Lupin and the relationship between Assane and Claire for those who watched it! I don’t know if i translated well the alchimy and unfightable attraction and connection they still have even after having seperated. ANYWAY, hope you all are doing fine, hope you liked this, LET ME KNOW what you thought, tell me about your day, your resolutions if you have any, what’s the weather like where you at etc lmao xoxo

PS: stay tuned for a new upcoming series i’m quite excited about ~~

[micer2012]

Alright so I have a real question about Iselrak (and its not just us banging us hands on tables going THE SCRUNKKKKY lmao) SO Iselrak I know that he is normally drunk but how often now a days since now he is living (?) with Sidas, I mean yes it IS the helmits but what I have seen and read they seem to have a really good bond so wouldn't he try to at least lower the amount of alcohol Ise drinks? (also side note I feel like Ise would drink wine lmaooo)

SCRUNKLY LORE GET YOUR SCUNRKLY LORE HERE (tw: LOT of alcoholism. homelessness mind control . Pain, Misery) (I ACCIDENTLY WROTE 1K WORDS OOPS. THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD SEND THIS TO GERM INSTEAD OF MEJBHVKJHVG /LH)

back before Sidas joined the nLo, he spent all his time with his little brother Mephitic. they were all that eachother had, sidas took care of them and-and then meph started making money of his own gamblin. they were happy at first but... but meph was Greedy, he doesn't care about consequences or people below him, now that he was at the top- and soon, his own brother was below him. meph pretended he wasn't associated with sidas or got his friends to Ridicule and Mess w/ him,, sidas kept going every night to try to make sure his little brother didn't get himself killed. lookin out for him, just like Before.

this was how sidas met isel- the only person here regarded as More of a failure and embarrassment than he was. he somehow scourged up enough money to buy sidas a drink and asked him Why he looked so sad... This is supposed to be a happy place! ^^. sidas... figured this guy was either far too drunk to understand anything he said, or someone he literally was never going to see again. so he told him about his horrid life... how the only person that he Had had abandoned him and was gonna get himself killed now while..while pushing him away. he had NOBODY. and isel just moved his hand onto his... and said you have Me now !! ^v^

it took the two a bit to get to a place where they both understand eachother's boundaries and wants, but.. they listen to eachother. they are the only 2 people who listen to eachother and.. and see each other as PEOPLE. sidas stops goin just to try to Heckle meph, and instead just beelines for his friend and spends the time until he has to bring meph home with him. he doesn't know that isel doesn't have a house anymore. they listen to eachother- but he has No idea how deep in isel is. isel doesn't talk about himself, his past, his life... all that matters is that he's happy while he's in the bar, and with sidas.

one night isel gets beat up, and sidas brings him back to him and meph's house to clean him up- meph finds them and kicks them out of their own house. the house that sidas had built for Them. they live in ..isel's Alley together. they're just glad they're together at least. (this is where the art with isel wearin sidas's shirt takes place)

then. isel finds out and tells sidas about... the people behind the bar wanting Meph. wanting his head for,, for his debt for his secret swindling of them this entire time. he tells him knowing how much sidas cares about his brother, even when meph doesnt.. but he didnt realize just HOW much sidas cared about his brother. because after this, sidas goes missing.

isel spends a year trying-trying to get ANYONE to-to CARE. to realize he's gone,, grabbing onto meph's coat just to have him Shove him off... he can't be happy anymore. he-he can't be Blissfully ignorant. without sidas,, he's the miserable desperate broke little man he always was inside. he can't turn it off, he can't Hide it.

after some amount of time, he's taken by a man in a pale orange eyemask. he's told that sidas is Dead- and he's his replacement.

he spends some years 'working' for the nLo. they're bad.

eventually... Bonesaw (hels!doc) ends up working with Cicatrix (hels!scar), who has... mind controlling powers. isel is numb again, at least. that's a relief compared... compared to just Bonesaw.

Koray (hels!grian), Sidas, and Indulge (the hels equalivalent to the hippes of the a77 arc) find him when they're trying to stop Bonesaw and Cicatrix from destroying the entire dimension- and Sidas recognizes him Instantly. he never thought that he'd see him again.

isel doesn't recognize him instantly,, due to the..mind Fuzziness.

but he feels safe with him. and eventually memories start coming back- comradery, the nights they spent together, the happiness and bliss. he doesn't remember the negative things. how miserable, useless and desperate they were.. sidas doesnt know..if this is better?

isel loves koray and sidas. he makes them an amazing house with what seems like muscle memory... they find limbo. he's happy.

sidas can't let him... live a lie. after the nLo forced him to be positive, kept Everything from him and forced him to just be a blissful, little pawn, isel needs to know everything. he needs to know who he IS.

when sidas tells him, it breaks him. he goes missing for a week.

sidas, after sleepless nights of looking for him, finds him in a bar.

he-he's acting Exactly like he did- like he did when they met. it's terrifying. he tries to flirt with sidas as he comes over just- horrified- seeing him like this,,again,... . They were better they were Healed they-they had a family they had a home now. he isn't,, this,,anymore.

he brings him home and wakes up next morning to isel tearing apart the house, the kitchen-- looking for something to numb the pain. the Misery the panic the Agony of knowing,,knowing how much he's wasted his life, how much of a vermin and pest beneath everyones foot he is-- back in the bar, he drank so much to forgot this. forget his debt, forget him selling his own house and clothes to try to get money to pay off the nLo,, and he was oblivious after the mind control. but now, Sidas.,, had reopened all these wounds,, he was the most clear of his life than he had been in MORE than a decade.

but sidas calmed him down-- koray came over soon too and- and. and. yes. it.. it. it was Fucked. but he doesn't have to be like this anymore. he has all of them- and they love him. and he means the World to sidas - he always has.

by the time of 3l, (which he was present for, and teamed with Sidas for), Lucent joining their group, and LL, he doesn't drink. he's still silly and flirty and- and happy. but he's happy because he has a family now- he has something To be happy for. and they love him too.

[emmafreakecreations]

Reading ACOSF for the first time

I enjoyed this one, it was nice to see Nesta have some sort of character development. This book was too long though and the plot other than Nesta's healing was non-existent. I'll be honest I think the only appeal of this book for most ppl would be the spice. I'm just gonna write random thoughts in bullet points bc i feel like i don't remember most of what happened.

The House of Wind is my new favorite character. When Nesta first started living there the house was like "EAT DAMMIT AND YEAH YOU ONLY GET WATER" and heated her room instead of giving her a fire. Also the fact that it would give her romance books *chef's kiss*

I know Nesta spending a ton of Rhys's money was bad and a cry for help but I felt like all the character's reaction to it was silly bc it's like you guys established in the novella that you guys are so wealthy that buying a ton of expensive jewels for Amren wouldn't put a dent in you r coffers so I have no pity for you having to pay a tavern that much

It's stupid that Feyre and Rhys made that bargin. Like did Rhys and Feyre not think that through and the consequences if they died before peace was found. These two have become just annoying to me as a couple since the novella.

While reading this book I was thinking why do I feel less stressed out and angry while reading this and then Tamlin showed up. Then I was like oh that's why this book has been so stress free. I have said before that I wish he could have some sort of redemption and healing process but the fact that I was enjoying the book until he showed his furry self really says something.

I Love Gwyn and Emmerie and their close female friendship with Nesta. Swapping books, having sleepovers and making friendship bracelets. I love it.

Nesta was calling ppl out, like saying to Elain when did you get interesting and calling Rhys and Feyre out for the ridiculous amount of wealth. I do acknowledge that Nesta revealing Feyre going to die was a low blow bc she did it out of anger to get back at her, but she had a point that it was fucked up that they were keeping that from Feyre. They were keeping information about Feyre's OWN BODY FROM HER and that they were looking for a way to fix it-something she should have been involved in since you know IT'S HER OWN BODY. I appreciate that Feyre understood that it wasn't Nesta's fault and she wasn't angry at her she was angry at Rhys.

I understand Rhys's concern about the enemies knowing Feyre is pregnant but I really feel the shield was overkill, weird, and overprotective. It made me uncomfy. Seems like Ryhs is acting like a certain someone from book 2

I just love that Nesta just keeps getting proposed to in this book. Like Eris and Lanthys see Nesta and are like "omg this females is just so powerful and owns it. She must be my Queen."

THE DANCE SCENE WITH ERIS OMG

Mor at first was not being helpful and took it to far being mean to Nesta. I did like her teaching Nesta the dances and realizing they needed a dress for her. And Nesta told her that she didn't want anything too revealing like what Mor wears bc she is not comfortable. And I think it just clicked in Mor's head what Nesta meant when they first met that she wouldn't wear Mor's dress. It's not like she didn't like it, it just wasn't something Nesta would wear and Mor was really nice and accommodating. And I'm glad these two can be civil now.

I'm tired of reading fae being able to smell arousal and pregnancy. It's weird they are like werewolves. Like other series and books I have read with fae don't have an acute sense of smell

I'm mad that Nesta lost her powers it feels like SJM was like "sorry no one can be more powerful than Rhys and Feyre"

I felt like Nesta kinda lost her snarkyness and smiled too much at the end. (she's the type of person who smiles occasionally but with no teeth) I also think she wouldn't have wanted a big mating ceremony- maybe like a courthouse one with her friends and family. I also don't see her wanting children and just being content with being an aunt. I feel like she turned into Feyre towards the end.

I miss book 1 Lucien

I have a book recommendation too. If you want a story similar to ACOTAR but the main character actually deals with her family trauma then A Dance with the Fae Prince by Elise Kova is your book. The set up is similar to cinderella- abusive step-mom and step-sister- and the myth of Eros and Psyche- bc of debt the step-mom sells mc hand in marriage, but when the mc gets to her new husbands house she is not allowed to see him. Also the main guy is amazing and I love him. oh and the are actually fae and not just hot humans with magic.

[delicioussshame]

Sugar daddy AU: new chapter. That’s it, that’s the fic.

The world has never stopped spinning for Shen Yuan before, so why would it now?

He’s sure Luo Binghe is thrilled with his current situation. If he really wanted to create a perfect bubble where he would be the center of Shen Yuan’s universe, he has succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. He’s been all Shen Yuan has been able to think about. The moral conundrum of considering whether you’re attracted to your former student, and if so, whether you can and should accept his affection, has been dominating his every moment. Each time he thinks that yes, he could see himself allowing this, allowing Luo Binghe the more he has so visibly been craving, he falters. In a way, it seems like a culmination of all his failures; a failed career he’s a disgrace to and a return to values he’d sworn to leave behind with his family.

But maybe, just maybe, Binghe would be worth it. Shen Yuan thinks if anyone could make those concerns seem ridiculous with only the power of their presence by his side, it would be Luo Binghe.

All his hesitations don’t stop his heart from freezing in his chest where the school sends an email regarding his teaching plan for the upcoming term.

It takes him a few minutes to calm down, to ride the wave of anxiety that returning to the beat of regular employment brings. He hasn’t looked forward to returning to class for years, but after those sweet weeks spent doing nothing but relaxing? Facing coworkers that were at best indifferent, at worst downright abusive for the sake of disinterested students is such an unappealing prospect that it almost gives him nausea.

He’s been too spoiled. Shen Yuan normally spends the summer working part-time jobs to make ends meet. This year, Luo Binghe had swiped all those worries away. One of the first things he’d done was tell Shen Yuan that he’d be paying his rent for now, like he would be providing for all his other needs. Shen Yuan had protested, but he’d known it was pointless. How was he supposed to stop Luo Binghe from sending money to his landlord?

Without those preoccupations, Shen Yuan had permitted himself freedom from work in general. He had spared not a thought to that most unpleasant matter. His romantic life, if it could be called that, had demanded all his attention.

Now, enough was enough. This had been fun, but Shen Yuan had a job to do. No matter how much he dreads it, he has to review his lesson plan.

Such is life.

_________________

It takes Luo Binghe only one cursory look at Shen Yuan to notice something went very, very wrong. His dear teacher is tense, hunched over his desk, hand on his forehead as if he’s trying to hold a headache at bay. Shen Yuan hasn’t appeared this stressed since he set foot inside Luo Binghe’s home. He radiates distress like he did that day, when Luo Binghe went to visit him and found him on the verge of collapse.

Back then, all he wanted was to stop that collapse.

That conviction has never faltered.

Gently, Luo Binghe taps Shen Yuan’s shoulder. “Laoshi?”

Shen Yuan doesn’t turn. “Binghe, not now. I’m busy.”

Luo Binghe glances at the document he’s worked on, and swears inwardly. Is all it took to reverse all the progress they made a reminder of that dreaded job?

Shen Yuan isn’t going back, and that’s final. “Why is Laoshi wasting his valuable time on this? Doesn’t he trust his Binghe?”

Shen Yuan turns toward him, annoyance visible on his face. “What does trust have to do with this?”

He stays firm. “I told Laoshi all I wanted was for him to be happy and healthy. I promised I would do anything for this to happen. His job doesn’t make him happy. Why would he return to it? He still has a few days to send his notice in time. He can leave the school behind and stay with me instead.”

Shen Yuan rolls his eyes. “Binghe, don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. I see no reason why Laoshi should go back when he doesn’t need to work.”

“I do need to work. I can’t rely on Binghe’s good will for the rest of my life. Sooner or later, he’ll get tired of paying for an old man and will look to buy a younger, sweeter companion.”

There is so much wrong with this sentence Luo Binghe is struck silent. Shen Yuan knows better than this. He’s just in too fool a mood to act like it.

He regains control of himself. “First, Laoshi must never talk of himself like he’s a passing fancy I feel like throwing money at. It’s insulting both to yourself and to my love for you. Second, he can rely on me however he wants to. If he’s not secure with his current position, that can be dealt with. I will happily pay whatever lawyer he chooses to draft any arrangement he deems agreeable. I can transfer him a set amount of money each week that he can manage at his discretion. I can also give him a lump sum, significant enough that if something were to happen, he could live by himself, though he’s already my will’s sole beneficiary. Work is unnecessary.”

At this, Shen Yuan shakes. “I’m sorry? Did you just say that in the event of your death, you’re leaving me everything? Me?”

Luo Binghe doesn’t know why Shen Yuan is so surprised. “Who else? Laoshi knows I have no family. I have no plan to die before Laoshi, but if it were to happen, that’s no reason not to keep my promise.” It won’t, of course. Luo Binghe won’t allow it.

“Are you serious? That’s something you do for a spouse, not a dumb childhood crush.”

He genuinely thought they were over this. “Laoshi isn’t a crush. He’s someone I’ve been in love with for since I was a teenager. Didn’t I say I wanted him by my side at all times? I planned consequently.” If Shen Yuan wants children, modifications will be made to the will, but this won’t be happening anytime soon. For now, Luo Binghe wants him all to himself.

“I… We’re not even a couple yet! Binghe is being reckless! If he’s this open, what’s stopping me from fleecing him for all he’s got and leaving him destitute!”

Luo Binghe laughs, encouraged by the “yet”. “Laoshi would never. He’s too good a man to do such a thing.”

“I could! Binghe thinks he knows me so well, but the truth is he doesn’t. He’s got this image of me as a saint, as a person without flaws nor desires, but he’s wrong. Every day, I take advantage of Binghe’s kindness.”

Shen Yuan is the one who doesn’t know himself. “Taking what’s freely offered is not taking advantage.”

“It is when no sane person would make the offer!”

“Does Laoshi think me insane, then?”

“Well, no. I know Binghe is very smart.”

“Then why not trust I know what I’m doing?”

“Because you don’t!”

This is going nowhere. “I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m making Laoshi happy by keeping him from a job that is killing him.” He sighs. “If Laoshi absolutely feels like he needs to earn his own income, I will support him until he finds a decent job, or will pay for his continued education so that he can find something better, but I would much, much prefer he doesn’t bother. It’s stress he doesn’t need, for no reason. I just cannot accept his return to a school that has only one good point: him. It’s not good for him. As I said earlier, whatever he needs as collateral to feel safe, I’m willing to provide, as long as he does what’s best for himself.”

Shen Yuan looks speechless.

Luo Binghe doesn’t flinch.

“Every time I think Binghe must be fooling himself, or fooling me, he goes and does something like this, something that no one else would do, as if to prove his honesty. He makes me feel like an idiot.”

“That must be novel. I imagine someone as wonderful as Laoshi doesn’t feel that way often.”

“Just most days of my life.”

“Then his life must change. Laoshi should only feel good.” Which is something Luo Binghe would gladly help with, no matter when and where.

He takes Shen Yuan’s hand in his; presses a chaste kiss to the top of it. “Please. Don’t go.”

Silence rests heavy on his shoulders for a while, until Shen Yuan breaks. “I’ll consider it.”

Luo Binghe embraces him and decides to wait.

_________________

The notice is sent two days later.

_________________

One moment Luo Binghe is preparing to go to bed, the next Shen Yuan, still damp from the shower, sits on his lap and kisses him.

It takes Luo Binghe negative one second to respond in kind, to open his mouth and to kiss back, his arms snaking around Shen Yuan’s waist to pull him closer and keep him there. Laoshi is the one who initiated! Luo Binghe can’t allow him to take it back.

Not that it seems like he will. Shen Yuan doesn’t struggle at all as Luo Binghe deepens the kiss, as his hands find the buttons of Shen Yuan’s sleeping shirt and open a trail he follows with his mouth. His laoshi’s breath fastens as Luo Binghe acquaints himself with his chest, fingers dancing over his ribs and down the gentle curve of his back.

Such good behavior has to be rewarded.

He does lift his eyes to Shen Yuan’s before removing his pants.

His beloved doesn’t say a word as he turns his gaze away demurely, but the caress in Luo Binghe’s hair speaks volumes, as does the seductive way he opens his thighs. If Shen Yuan has finally accepted his advances, how could Luo Binghe refuse him?

There are so many things Luo Binghe dreamed of doing to his Laoshi. He wants to spend hours worshipping him, keeping him in a state of unforgiving arousal until he begs for release. He wants to prepare him carefully and take him gently, painlessly, until all of Shen Yuan’s stress has left him and he’s barely conscious. He wants to fuck him until he screams. He wants to ride him languorously, for hours on end, until his body has taken the shape of Shen Yuan and no one else’s. He wants to be tied to the bed and used until he’s crying for mercy, and then be denied that mercy. He wants to go to work wearing the mark of Shen Yuan’s teeth high on his neck proudly, knowing his laoshi is wearing the exact same mark at home. He wants to fill him up with a remote-controlled toy and bring him to ecstasy during those interminable board meetings that would at least have a purpose, for once.

But for now, all he wants is to get to know all of Shen Yuan.

Shen Yuan startles when Luo Binghe presses a kiss to his rapidly filling length, but he doesn’t protest. Good for him, because Luo Binghe isn’t sure he could have stopped. Not when he finally gets to find out how he tastes, how he sounds, how beautiful he looks when he flushes from pleasure.

He moans around him when Shen Yuan’s fingers twist into his hair. Shen Yuan could fuck his throat anytime, if he wanted to. Luo Binghe wouldn’t mind choking for him.

Maybe he could overcome that reflex with practice.

He would love to try.

It takes little time for Shen Yuan to groan and try to pull him off, which is a futile endeavor. Like Luo Binghe is going to waste any gift of Shen Yuan.

He greedily swallows it all down when Shen Yuan bites back his student’s name and digs his nails into Luo Binghe’s scalp.

Luo Binghe has never been this hard. “Laoshi, Shen Yuan, please.” He’d take anything. He’d rut against his leg if Shen Yuan would allow him to. “Please.”

Shen Yuan is bright red when his beautiful hand wraps around Luo Binghe’s cock, pulling and stroking in an awkward, unexperienced hold that Luo Binghe knows he’ll never get enough of. Just the sight of those white fingers on his feverish skin is enough to enthrall him. How is he going to last when they grow skilled? He’ll embarrass himself like the teenager he isn’t anymore! Even now, it takes all he has to last a few minutes.

He thought no sight could be fairer than Shen Yuan in pleasure, but the view of his fingers and chest covered in Luo Binghe’s come is so overwhelming Luo Binghe wishes his love was the type to allow for recording. If it were his face despoiled so… Luo Binghe would probably not soften at all.

Hopefully Shen Yuan will let him.

Another time. While Luo Binghe himself could easily keep on going for the rest of the night and the day after, what has happened tonight was probably a lot to ask of shy, proper Shen Yuan. Luo Binghe tries to soothe his exaltation, instead exploding in praises and endearments for his visibly embarrassed lover.

Luo Binghe ignores his attempts at distancing himself, instead holding him in his arm until Shen Yuan quiets and closes his eyes, waiting for sleep to take him.

_________________

Well, that happened.

It wasn’t… It was fine.

Okay, it was more than fine. One can only lie to themselves for so long. Luo Binghe is devastatingly handsome and convinced he loves Shen Yuan, for some reason. He’s not immune to that much charm!

He was kind. Shen Yuan had been as mentally prepared as he could be to find himself pushed on his back and taken, but Luo Binghe had waited.

Shen Yuan fully expects it will happen sooner or later. He’ll deal then. It will be hard on him, because quite honestly, he’s not sure anyone on Earth is built the right way to accommodate Luo Binghe, but he’ll do it. Binghe deserves it.

If he’s that serious about providing for Shen Yuan, he should get his money’s worth. Shen Yuan couldn’t live with himself otherwise.

[justanotherlifeff]

Warning: Slight angst

Yes, you officially hated Bakugou Katsuki, the man who gave you a promotion, only to make you deal with his nonsense even more. Yep, you did get paid more than before but honestly, no amount of money can amount to the level of pain this man puts you through. Yes, for once, you are not complaining about the piles of paperwork (which surprisingly is less than before). In fact, paperwork was the easiest part of the job. What drove you crazy was dealing with his PR team.

As his assistant, it was your job to make sure that he stayed out of trouble from the media and oh boy, this man was always a pinch close to having a scandal every single day. You wondered how the hell did he even manage to do that? You, in time, realized that this time bomb of a man lived in his own little world where he was the king of everything and everyone (much like his old hero name, king explosion murder, as you found out from an interview with Pro hero Shouto) and he aimed to do whatever he pleased. By whatever, you meant, yelling at random civilians, blasting off reporters if they asked him too much questions, and not to mention, the number of women who claims to have slept with him on social media. Well, he did sleep with them but that was not something good for a Pro Hero’s reputation.

Yep, this man did whatever the hell he wanted to and guess who had to face the consequences of his actions? You. Hell, this man just did not listen! You honestly felt bad about yelling at him about his actions since he decided to just hand the job over to you, when you were clearly not qualified enough. Which is why, you decided to take a different approach towards the entire situation.

You had noticed that there was a small group of people that Bakugou trusted (surprisingly) and while they were near Bakugou since high school, you decided that you needed to earn his respect to exactly that level. Which is why, you planned to ask the grumpy pro hero to have lunch with you every day. Of course, your home cooked meals were far better than the ones sold at the cafeteria. There was no way that he could refuse good food.

“You didn’t season the meat properly and the curry isn’t spicy enough”, he said. ‘Would I lose my job if I punch him right now?’ you wondered. “Well, why don’t you cook me something better then?” you asked instead, not being able to control the glare that came with it. “As if I’m gonna waste my time on something as stupid as that.” He scoffed, drinking his water. “I thought so.” You answered with a victorious smile. That means he surely can’t cook as good as you right? His opinion on your cooking totally didn’t matter in that case. “Hah? Are you fucking challenging me? I’ll show you how cooking is done!” he growled at you, making you chuckle at his outburst.

Yep, you were now gobbling down the food of the extra bento he brought from home. Seems like his cooking was as good as his critiquing. He was at the Gordon Ramsey level. “Now that’s what you call good food.” He commented cockily as he looked at you eating like you were starved for a month. “THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONLY THING I AM GOOD AT!” you exclaimed. “Well, I’m the best at everything!” he announced cockily. “Well, not dealing with people and the media apparently” you grinned at him. “As if those extras even matter.” Bakugou scoffed as he ate his own food.

“Well, why don’t you bring your own food? The cafeteria food sucks ass compared to, well, this gourmet level shit….” You mumbled, stuffing your face with rice. “Tch... Don’t talk with your mouth full, dumbass. And, it’s not like I have the time to cook my fucking lunch. My patrols start at 5 am remember?” Bakugou grumbled, before sticking his chopstick in his mouth. “You really do overwork yourself, Bakugou-san…” you sighed before an idea, or as you liked calling this last minute obviously stupid idea as ‘plan B’, struck your head. “Why don’t you teach me how to cook?” you asked him, looking clearly excited.

You were surprised that you were able to pull that obviously ridiculous plan off. “No!” he answered immediately back then, looking at you as if you just asked him to jump off a roof (though you do agree that asking him to teach you how to cook probably was very close to that). After making your infamous puppy eyes (which never worked but surprisingly did this time) and reminding him about that one time you got completely overworked due to him not noticing that his assistant was not working, he actually agreed to teach you, despite his complains about you being a ‘sneaky bastard’. Which is why, you were now waiting patiently for him to give you a video call, right after work, to teach you how to ‘at least know how to season food like a normal person’.

“YOU ARE PUTTING TOO MUCH PEPPER! YOUR FUCKING ASS IS GONNA BURN FROM HOW SPICY THIS IS GONNA BE!” He was yelling at you, making you want to punch through the phone. “OH, FUCK OFF! DON’T FUCKING ACT AS IF YOUR FOOD DOESN’T LOOK RED AS FUCK! OFCOURSE, YOU PUT A SHIT TONNE OF SPICE ON IT!” You yelled back. “THAT’S CHILLY POWDER YOU FUCKING DONKEY!” He yelled, to which you replied, “WELL, WHY DON’T YOU SHOW ME FIRST HAND HOW TO COOK INSTEAD OF YELLING THROUGH A FUCKING PHONE?”

When he cut the call, you expected to lose your job and never see him again. “Well, maybe it’s not gonna be that bad right?” you wondered. What you did not expect was for him to show up at your apartment within 10 minutes. “How the fuck did you know my address?” was the first thing out of your mouth. “Your resume, dimwit. The bigger question is, how the fuck do you live here?” he asks, looking around at your studio apartment, that was way too small for someone as big as him. “Well, I’m not as big as a fucking tower, am I?” you grumbled, letting him enter the place. “Heh, you’re right about me being as big as a tower, geddit?” Bakugou gave you a smug grin, making you blush furiously. “Oh, shut the fuck up! What the hell are you doing here in the first place?” you asked, trying to hide your blush.

You wondered how the hell this asshole made you blush every single minute as he taunted your shitty chopping board skills, while moving around in the tiny kitchen (which seemed even tinier now), barely having any personal space between the two of you. “I’m gonna show up after work tomorrow too. I can’t teach your clumsy ass in one day…” Bakugou sighed as he wiped his sweaty forehead. “Sure” you answered, glad that the rather handsome man was finally going to leave and you could think about your unexpected feelings more properly.

On the other hand, the angry blond, while he was terribly good at hiding his emotions, couldn’t help but feel a certain way towards his new assistant. It started with seeing you frantically trying to deal with his PR team, juggling his paperwork at the same time, and being so obviously done with his shit, and yet, being nice to him for God knows what reason. It all made him want to make you lose your shit, get angry and demand him to get in line. Hell, you’d probably look hot when you’re angry. The fact that he was completely right was proved when you yelled at him through your phone, since it was just a video call between two acquaintances, instead of him being your boss. He couldn’t help but show up at your house after that, only to have that weird feeling intensify as he saw you being clumsy as hell in that tiny ass apartment. Hell, he might end up buying you a bigger apartment at this rate.

The next day turned into a week and then, a month. Every day, Bakugou would say that he’s not done with teaching you and that he would come back the next day, only to teach you some random very difficult French cooking technique, hoping it was a French ‘something else’. You started spending more time with the grumpy hero at lunch break as you cooked him a decent lunch every day, only to have him grumble about how ‘it could be better’ and yet find no excuse on how it isn’t already perfect. You never argued about it either as it would result in one more day of cooking lessons.

You hated Bakugou Katsuki as he still lived as if he owned this world. You hated that his crazy fangirls would throw themselves at him and he would relish in that. You hated that you had to deal with his PR team thanks to his fuckboy ways, when you clearly hated seeing him with those snobby fangirls. You hated Bakugou Katsuki because you love him, because everybody loves him.

Taglist: @bonbonthedragon @the2ndl

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Have you been asked yet to rank Trust eps? Cos I'm asking! But your the criteria for ranking I leave to you to decide.

Ahahahaha I’ll have you know I put way too much thought into this. :-D

Ok so first of all, there is no such thing as a bad episode of Trust. The whole thing is really tightly written, every character and plot thread has a purpose, and even the episodes that I haven’t watched over and over again are important to the overall story. And a lot of the impact of the show comes from things that are cumulative over multiple episodes.

That being said, I do have favorites. Since the definitive ranking of Primo’s outfits has already been taken care of, here is my ranking from least to most favorite based on some nebulous criteria of artistic/narrative effectiveness and emotional impact, my judgement of which is obviously highly subjective and also correct.

Under the cut because this got ummm unbelievably, ridiculously long.

10. The House of Getty (episode 1)

Sorry Danny Boyle and Simon Beaufoy, the pilot is my least favorite episode. Still think it was the wrong choice to open with a flashy (and, I can tell, expensive) sequence showcasing the death of a character we literally never see again. And, look, I’m an impatient viewer. If I don’t get someone to root for/emotionally identify with/otherwise catch my interest early on in a narrative, I’ll tune out. And Old Paul is not only unlikeable--far from a mortal sin in dramatic storytelling--he’s boring. I don’t care about any of his rich people problems, and I’m not the kind of viewer who can be kept engaged just by hating someone and watching them be terrible.

Some of the secondary characters in the Getty household do have interesting plotlines, but we don’t get to learn very much about them in the first episode. And I do think things get interesting once Little Paul shows up (although I maintain that the whole episode is more interesting if we understand what the stakes are for Paul getting the money), but if I had started watching this show with no context I wouldn’t have made it past Old Paul’s pre-coital erotica listening routine.

If this had been anything other than the first episode I might not have ranked it last, but extra penalty points for leading with your least interesting characters.

9. Lone Star (episode 2)

This episode is, I think, saddled by the fact that it has to do a lot of heavy lifting in terms of exposition and setup. It mostly works because Chace is an entertaining narrator, and once we get to Italy with Gail I think things zip along at a pretty good pace. Opens with an attempted rape to show how Bad the Bad Guys are, which is...not my favorite trope.

Once again, I think a lot of the information in this episode would have worked better if episode 3 had been episode 1. (We’d already know who Berto was when Chace meets him; we’d already know about the box of guns in the apartment; we’d know when certain characters are lying.) This whole show runs on the suspense of the audience being the only party who knows what’s going on with all the characters at once; I think trading mystery for suspense here was the wrong move. I also can’t help thinking there was pressure to front-load the well-known American actors in the beginning of the show at the expense of the strongest narrative choices.

Imo the best thing about this episode is the sort of...multiple competing images of Paul that emerge. His mom sees him as an innocent victim who couldn’t possibly have planned any of this. Chace sees him as a spoiled rich kid trying to swindle his granddad. Neither one of them has the complete truth.

Next we get into some episodes that are certainly not bad, but their greatness is more on the level of some bangin’ individual scenes than a whole package.

8. John, Chapter 11 (episode 6)

Again, this isn’t a bad episode. The main reason I put it near the end of the list is that the first time through I got sort of impatient during the first half. We, the audience, by virtue of our extra-textual knowledge, know that Paul can’t be dead, and we spend about half the episode before we know what really happened to him, which felt a bit too long to me.

This episode does have some fantastic individual scenes including: Leo talking Primo down in the farmhouse, Leo and Paul’s conversation about Angelo’s death, Gail being an absolute badass, and the meeting between Salvatore and Old Paul. A lot of these scenes are essential on a thematic level, but I don’t think the episode as a whole is the most streamlined.

7. Consequences (episode 10)

I debated for a while where to put this episode because the overall feeling of 57 Chekov’s guns going off in the space of one episode is SO satisfying, and the resolutions of some of the individual plotlines are delicious. Ultimately I would have liked more space for Paul and Gail and less Old Paul being grumpy about his substitute child museum’s mediocrity (although the scene with the bad reviews is hilarious). Once again I feel like the show creators felt they had to pull the focus back to Old Paul to wrap things up and I just. don’t care.

That being said. The resolution of Primo’s storyline? SO SATISFYING. And tbh I don’t dislike the scenes that exist with Paul and Gail; even the happy scenes have this poignant tone to them. I think they were trying to deal with the fact that his irl story is just...incredibly fucking tragic, and you can see a bit of the strain showing.

6. Kodachrome (episode 7)

I know episode 7 is not one of your personal favorites, but it’s the one where I think jumping between multiple plotlines/sets of characters is used to the most satisfying dramatic effect. It has this sense of dramatic irony that feels like some Shakespearean family tragedy. The whole episode, we are hoping that Paul Jr. will finally do the thing we want him to do, which is stand up to his father. And he does it--but at the absolute worst, most selfish and destructive moment possible.

Paul Jr. may be the literal worst, but I do have compassion for him in the flashbacks, mostly because it seems painfully apparent that no matter what he does, he will never be able to please his father. But he doesn’t seem to realize this, and he keeps trying, even as it’s destroying him and his relationship with his family. Credit to Michael Esper for his performance for making me feel a smidgen of compassion for this bastard.

I think the other thing this episode shows is how both of Paul’s parents keep putting him, a child, into roles and circumstances that he shouldn’t really be in. He’s wandering around through what seem like very much adult environments with his dad and Talitha in Morocco. In the Trust version of events he’s there when Talitha ODs and is the one trying to revive her while his dad is having a breakdown in the corner. Gail seems like the more responsible parent but there’s something about her bringing Paul as her “date” on a night out, and the understanding that this is a thing that happens regularly...to me the disturbing part is not so much bringing a young kid to a party with adults but the unspoken expectation that Little Paul will fill the void of companionship that his father has left empty. (Gettys expecting Little Paul to step in to cover for the failings of his father is a repeated theme, and it even plays into the ear thing. His family has failed to pay the ransom, so this is now a problem he has to solve himself.) Combine this all with Leonardo going, um, excuse me but what the actual fuck is wrong with your family? and I think it makes a very effective episode. And the last couple minutes had me yelling NOOOOOOOO GODDAMMIT because you can see what’s going to happen and you’re just watching it unfolding like a car wreck. Also has one of my hands-down favorite scenes, of Paul and Primo in the car waiting for the ransom.

5. White Car in a Snowstorm (episode 9)

The ~ D R A M A !!! ~ This episode is an opera. I mean this whole show is dramatique but episode 9 really leans into the vivid imagery--that snowy highway in the mountains above the sea, the all-white ransom exchange, Paul clinging to the pole at the shuttered Getty gas station, some Very Serious Mobsters throwing the ransom money around like idiots in a moment where you’re encouraged to be happy along with them.

This is also one of my favorite episodes for Primo and for Primo and Paul’s weird sometimes-alliance. Primo walking away from Salvatore to go tell Paul “they always pay in the end”? Primo and Paul teaming up to argue with Salvatore about why Paul shouldn’t die? Primo being all threateny to the doctor treating Paul because somewhere deep down he is worried (that’s my take and you’ll never convince me otherwise)? Primo dressing up to fake-scab on a postal strike in order to find a misplaced severed ear? All gold.

Fun fact: the letter Gail writes to President Nixon did happen in real life, but as far as I can tell the phone call did not. The real details of who convinced Old Paul to finally pay (some) of the ransom are considerably less cinematic. They’re the same amount of sexist though!

Ok now we are getting to the top tier...

4. That’s All Folks! (episode 4)

This is definitely the episode that took me from “ok this is fun” to “oh holy shit I’m invested now.” It’s the episode where we get introduced to most of the Calabrian characters and their world. It’s also the episode where we start to realize that Primo is not just a fun antagonist but is really a parallel protagonist to Little Paul, with his own set of relationships and motivations that we start to see from his POV. (I’d argue that, with the exception of his very first scene, we’ve mostly seen Primo through other characters’ gaze up until episode 4, and this is the point where we start watching him as like, the character whose pursuit of a goal we’re following over the course of the scene.)

This episode ranks high for capturing so much of the weird mix of tones that makes Trust work. It can be very funny. (I never fail to fuckin lose it when Fifty is on the phone with Gail the first time and when he’s talking to the thoroughly unimpressed newspaper switchboard operator.) It has this weird unexpected intimacy between characters you wouldn’t think would connect with each other. (Primo and Paul, Paul and Angelo; in retrospect the arc of the relationship between Primo and Leo gets started in that scene in Salvatore’s kitchen.) And it has one of the show’s absolute best record-scratch tone shifts when Primo gets the ransom offer. I remember saying “oh FUCK” out loud the first time I watched the end of that episode, when Primo comes back to the house, visibly drunk and clearly furious. We’ve seen him be violent plenty before now in the show, but always in a controlled, calculated way. This is the first time we see his potential for out-of-control rage-fueled violence and he’s terrifying!

3. La Dolce Vita (episode 3)

I stand by my claim that this episode (with a few minor continuity adjustments) should have been the pilot. Can you imagine a title card that’s like “Rome 1973” and then away we go with Paul snorting coke and taking racy photos and jumping on cops and fucking his girlfriend in what is definitely not proper museum etiquette, and then the smash cut to Primo intimidating and robbing and murdering people? And that’s the opening of the whole show? And you’re like how are these characters connected and then they meet each other and it’s the fucking sunflower field scene??

Anyway aside from the fact that I think knowing the information in this episode would have made episodes 1 and 2 more interesting...it’s just a great fucking episode. It’s kinetic and propulsive and funny and tense and violent and features Primo’s sniper skills and his ass in those cornflower blue trousers. I rest my case.

2. Silenzio (episode 5)

I’ll be honest, I went back and forth on the top two a bunch. Silenzio is definitely my personal favorite episode, and I’d argue that it’s the best written, in terms of what it accomplishes narratively, which is to keep you emotionally invested in both Paul and Angelo trying to escape with their lives, and Primo and Leonardo hunting them down. That’s so fucking hard!! And yes some of it is great acting but it starts from the foundation of the writing. It’s just such a perfect little self-contained horror movie, and it has this profound sense of fatalism to it, because you know from the beginning (if only by virtue of only being halfway through the series) that Paul is not going to escape, and you sort of know that there is only one way this will end for Angelo. And yet they escape by the skin of their teeth so! many! times!

It’s also the episode where you see how much power the ‘Ndrangheta has over people’s lives in this community: Salvatore is like God, calling his servants to him with the church bells. Combine that with the visuals of two characters running for their lives mostly on foot through this unforgiving landscape, and you really get the sense of this environment as a harsh place where most people have a very constrained set of choices, and the claustrophobia of that. You get the sense in this episode that everyone is trapped in these expectations of violence and duty and honor. Angelo did what anyone with compassion would do, and saved Paul from what seemed like certain death, and he’s doomed for it. At the same time Primo is doing exactly what anyone would expect him to do in response to a subordinate who disobeyed him. In some ways the end of the episode feels inevitable, unsurprising, and yet they do SUCH a good job of winding up the tension until the literal last seconds of the episode, and then releasing it with a big dramatic bang. It’s so good!!

1. In the Name of the Father (episode 8)

Ok I’ll be honest the ONLY reason In the Name of the Father edged out Silenzio for the top spot is that it is really clear they pulled out all the stops in terms of making this episode feel extra heightened in a show where everything is already heightened. Like, the cinematography is different? They still use handheld a lot but I swear there are more still shots and more extreme, editorial camera angles like that shot of Francesco looking upward in church where the camera is looking down from above him. I can’t tell if they actually tweaked the color grading or if the bright white and blood red just stand out against the Calabrian color palette which is mostly earth tones, browns and greens and blues.

There are just. So many layers to this episode. The imagery! The literal sacrificial lamb at the beginning, Francesco being guided by Leonardo through an act of violence against an animal, something that I’m sure they don’t even see as violence but just part of farm life, part of survival and in this case part of a celebration, but something that fathers teach their sons how to do as part of becoming a man in this world. Paul as the metaphorical sacrificial lamb later, drawing parallels to Jesus (the lamb of God), Isaac (a father sacrificing his son), any number of martyred saints, pick your Catholic imagery. The blood of the lamb on the tree stump and Paul’s blood on the stone. The communion wafer (the body and blood of Christ) and Francesco at the end with Paul’s blood and a literal piece of his body held in his hands the same way.

And then there is like, the suspense of watching everyone marking time through the steps of this community ritual that’s supposed to be a joyful, communal celebration, while we know that there is a secret ticking away under the surface. The slow unfolding of the lie told to one person spreading to everyone in the village, and then the knowledge that Salvatore knows spreading to all the people who’ll be in trouble for that. The relationship arcs between the main Calabrian characters...not resolving, but sliding into place for the final act. Primo finally being done with Salvatore. Primo and Leo’s alliance being cemented and Leo physically stepping between Primo and Salvatore, to protect Primo. (No one ever protects Primo!! Still not over it!!!!) The confirmation celebration as a mirror of the Getty party in episode 1, the parallels drawn between the 3 Pauls and Salvatore-Primo-Francesco and how Primo reacts to being passed over as heir vs. how Paul Jr. reacts. Little Paul having two whole minutes of screen time and managing to break your heart with them. Regina! Just...Regina’s whole everything. The music going all-instrumental for an episode and having this haunting, dreamlike but still tense quality to it. And the fact that we never cut away from Calabria to another plotline gives the whole episode this hypnotic, all-encompassing quality. It’s just. SO GOOD!!!!

[feeling-weirdy]

Bidding For Attention Pt. 1

AU request from @carouselunique and her friend <3

Tony has a bachelor auction and Hope Van Dyne bids on Vision to upset her dad for fun and then Hope and Vision hit it off and keep hanging out which makes Wanda realize her feelings for him have changed.

Part 2 coming soon <3

"And our next Avenge-A-Bachelor is one I know many a lady have has their eye on...the one, the only, accessories included, The Vision!"  Microphone in hand and with a long swipe of his hand, Tony introduced the synthezoid who stood begrudgingly beside him.

Vision stood stale-faced, eager for this night to end. He had unwittingly been roped into this Win A Date With An Avenger charity auction or whatever Mr. Stark had coined the event.  He had preferred to skip the experience altogether, but apparently Stark had other ideas.  Dressed him head to toe in one of his old suits and placed him in front of this crowd that looked none too pleased or willing to bid on a mechanical man.  Had he been human, this little charade would cause embarrassment.

Things had been going well with Wanda, yet despite his desire to move their relationship further, Wanda seemed hesitant.  Even in the crowd, she avoided his eye contact, happily keeping her attention glue to Miss Romanoff beside her.

Mr. Stark wouldn’t have heard his pleas even had he tried to explain the situation.  It was all “for the children” or whatever creed they had decided on.  Vision cared little for this type of charity.  They were superheroes, not dolls.

“Oh, come on ladies!”  Mr. Stark egged them on.  “Who wouldn’t want their own personal vibrator, eh?”  He laughed, tightening his face when he glanced over in Vision’s direction who was not amused by the comment.  Yet again, his thankfulness for being anything but human knew no bounds.

The crowd was silent, nervous glances shot back and forth.  The only chatting came from Wanda’s table, who was still thrilled at the conversation she was sharing with the others who surrounded her.

"$500.”  A woman’s voice rang out above the others.  The bright lights in his eyes shielded her face, but he was certain her voice sounded familiar.

“Coming in with a bid.  Way to go, big guy.”  Stark smacked Vision’s shoulder, once again receiving a look in response.  “Any others?  Once, Twice, sold to Miss Hope Van Dyne, our very own The Wasp.  Be careful with him now, might need to keep the oil handy.”

Vision quickly disappeared behind the curtain, anxious to be free from the prying eyes of the attendees.  He had heard of Miss Van Dyne before, but he was certain they had never interacted before.  Mr. Stark kept ample tabs on everyone he deemed entertaining, so he had certainly gone through her file as he studied his comrades.

With a heavy sigh, Vision made his way down the stairs, ignoring the comments thrown his way by those tending the curtain.  He just wanted to get this date over with and be done with the whole event.

Hope stood waiting for him in the corner once the bidding came to a close. 

“You’re...Vision, right?”  Hope trailed off, her eyes narrowing.  It had clearly been a formality after spending so much on a date with him.  She had to have known exactly who he was.

“Indeed,” Vision answered respectfully.  “It’s a pleasure.”

“Great.  I hope you don’t mind.  I honestly could just use someone to help get back at my dad.  Plus you looked upset.”  She frowned, pouting playfully up at him as she looked around at the guests that had suddenly started to crowd around them.  Several women with their awarded dates had already begun pulling them out the door and none of the Avengers looked all too thrilled by the arrangement that Mr. Stark had set up for them.  Even more so as he mysteriously wasn’t on the docket himself.

“Hardly.”

“One word kinda guy, huh?  Great...great.”  She nodded her head, her eyes scanning the crowd.  “Well, I did pay for a date.  If you’re happy to go ahead and do that now, that’ll help ease some stress.  I don’t know, you just looked like someone I could talk to that wasn’t some stuck-up asshole like your friend over there.”

Hope nodded toward Tony who was shaking hands and continuing his inappropriate comments towards each of the bachelors he had auctioned off.  They had put together a solid amount of money, with himself being the lowest bid.  The concept being utterly ridiculous seeing as how his pinky finger cost more than 10x times the amount they raised during the event.

“It is interesting that he did not put himself up for auction with his ego.  Though I would assume Miss Potts had more to do with that than some may realize,” Vision chuckled.  He caught Wanda’s eye as he scanned the room, though she quickly turned away upon the occurrence.  Vision frowned, turning his attention back to his supposed date. 

“You’re right about that.  He seems pretty wrapped around her finger.”  Hope folded her arms, her eyes focusing in on the couple who had somehow made their way back onto the stage to perform their next bickering act.

“You have no idea.”  Vision took a deep breath, a light chuckle escaping him as he smiled down at her.  “Well, Miss Van Dyne, shall we be off?”

“Please call me Hope.  That just sounds like a mouthful and it gets old fast,” she scoffed.  “I’d much prefer we be on a first name basis with you, if that’s alright.”

“Very well...Hope.“  Sliding her hand into his outstretched arm, she smiled up at him.  “This actually gives me the perfect opportunity to pick your mind.”

“Oh?”  Her eyebrow raised a grin spreading along her face as he began to pull her down the hallway.

“Your suit is absolutely fascinating.  I was told you and your father crafted the shrinking technology used in both your suit and The Ant-Man, is that correct?”  

“We certainly did.  And here I was worried we’d have nothing to talk about.”

-------

Wanda leaned forward, trying to keep the two in her line of sight for as long as possible.  Once they turned the corner, however, Vision and Hope disappeared.

“They hardly know each other and she’s already hanging all over him.”  Wanda frowned, turning back around in her seat with a huff.

“Doll, I don’t know what to tell you,” Natasha started, twirling the straw around in her drink.  “You could have bid on him if you were going to be this torn up about it.”

“Yeah, but then we’d have to actually go on a date...”  Wanda huffed, pushing up against the back of her chair as she nibbled on her bottom lip.  She hadn’t expected to be so worried about this.  She knew full well this was going to happen the moment Tony brought it up, so what the hell was wrong with her?

“That is kind of the point.”  Raising the glass to her lips, Nat tried to hold a steady conversation with her, but even Wanda could see that her mind had been elsewhere.

“It’s just not that simple.”

“Seems simple enough, but that’s on you.”  Standing up, Natasha gave Wanda a pat on the shoulder.  “You sit here and wallow, I have my own fish to fry.”  Wanda watched as she disappeared in the crowd, the swagger in her step telling the young witch all she needed to know.  She had her own date.

“Good luck...”  She stated reluctantly.  Wanda sighed, her eyes peeking back toward the corridor where the pair had disappeared.  She hadn’t expected anyone to actually bid on him, hoping desperately that they would go home together and could spend another gabbing about whatever they could think of.  It was her own damn fault, really.  She could have easily won that time with him and since she hadn’t, she would have to suffer the consequences.

Consequences sucked.

Wanda pushed herself to her feet, taking one last sip of her drink as she turned to make her way out of the event hall.  Bidders and their Avenger dates had been paired off, as if she needed anything else to cause her any more pain.

The men had all dressed up nice for their dates, their nerves easily seen even from this distance, but the girls who bid on them didn’t care.  It wasn’t every day that they got a date with an Avenger and who could blame them?  

“Hey...”  Clint stopped her, grabbing her wrist suddenly.  “You heading out already?  There’s a whole lot of party left.”

“Y-yeah.  I should really be getting back.  I think I’d just put a damper on the party if I stuck around, so...”

“Well...if that’s what you want.  I can walk you back to the compound if you’d like.”

“Pretty sure you have your own date to tend to.”  Wanda winked, nodding back towards the table with the brown-headed woman.  She seemed eager to have Clint come back to the table as she ran her tongue along the toothpick to the two olives that were speared on the other end.  The woman kept constant eye contact with Clint, a move that clearly worked as he found himself unable to look away.  “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Wanda chuckled, leaving him behind to fend for himself.

Wanda walked out, slowly making her way back to the compound on her own two feet.  While flying would have been the preferred option, the cool night breeze ran along her skin in a way that teased and clouded her mind.  It gave her the perfect opportunity to take her time getting back home, allowing her mind to wander and think about the relationship she had formed with Vision.  

Clearly, whatever they shared between the two of them had blossomed in some way, but she was scared, worried that was going on between them would shatter at the first opportunity.  Just as it had time and time again throughout her lifetime.

Making her way into the front door, she stopped in the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee.  Why was she so bothered by the fact that he had a date with her?  He didn’t even know her.  It wasn’t like they were going to form some romantic connection within the past hour they had spent together.  It didn’t make sense.  Raising the cup to her lips, she allowed the hot liquid to slide down her throat.  Regardless of how she tried to swallow her feelings and push the notion that nothing was going to happen out of her mind, the thought remained.

Vision was charming, sweet, and almost other-worldly in the way he spoke to you…any woman would be a fool to pass up that kind of opportunity.  

Her hand fell, resting the cup back on the table as she stared off into the vast windows on the other side of the room.  Wanda’s mind had wandered so far off that she didn’t even hear Vision’s light chuckle from the other side of the door.  She froze hearing the woman’s laugh following swiftly behind his.

“It’s just absolutely fascinating to me just how much you were able to accomplish,” Vision prattled on, completely engrossed in their conversation.

“Yes well, someone had to pick up the slack from my father.  He was certainly able to put together the foundation, but the rest was practically up to me.”  Hope genuine excitement seemed to flow out of her as she continued their conversation as they entered the room, the woman still latched onto his arm.  Hope’s eyes widened upon catching her standing silently in the bathroom.  “Oh, hi there!”

“Hello,” Wanda responded quietly, taking another sip of the cup she daintily held between her fingers.  Her eyes unintentionally shot up to Vision, offering him a small smile which he returned wholeheartedly.

“Hi...”  Vision’s voice fell, his eyes softening as they locked eyes for the first time since she could remember.  She had tried so desperately to stay out of his way during the event, that she had nearly forgotten that they hadn’t spoken.

Rather than answer, Wanda pursed her lips, her eyes falling back down to her cup.  

Check out my other drabbles here or feel free to request some!

[skvaderarts]

Devil May Cry OC Week Day 4!

I’m actually really excited for @dmc-oc-week day for because it gives me the opportunity to talk about Sirrus without delving into spoilers! Yay loopholes!

This contains slight spoilers, but nothing super important. Just keep that in mind. it won’t effect anything, but if you want to go in totally blind, tread carefully.

Dislikes:

Note: if your wondering why I did dislikes first, it’s because that’s just how Sirrus is lol! He’s not a downer, but he likes to think of himself as a realist, but he’s slightly closer to being a pragmatic nihilist, and that lack of optimism lingers in his day to day life because he’s naturally going to have his guard up at all times. He can’t be disappointed if his expectations are nonexistent. Big mood, Sirrus.

1. His father. As previously mentioned, Sirrus is not on good terms with his father. At all. In fact, he’s actively waiting for his father’s hubris to catch up to him along with some of the enemies he’s made along the way so that he himself doesn’t have to confront him and possible end him because he knows he has it coming, but he doesn’t have it in him to do it himself. He’s probably powerful enough, but he just doesn’t have the heart. Despite everything, he’s still got a small ounce of compassion in his heart towards his father that he can’t let go of, something that he loathes about himself. It’s pretty unhealthy.

2. People that abuse power, authority, or social standing. This is actually a large issue in his own immediate family, and that’s part of why his dislike for it is so powerful. He genuinely believes that you should positively contribute to the lives of others if you have the means to, and if nothing else, that you should not detract from them. As a result, he’s developed a dislike of a large portion of people in power because, I mean, fair enough. But his family does not escape this designation, and that’s a large part of why he does what he does. Not because he believes he has superior judgement or standing over others, but because he cannot solve a problem that he does not understand. So as a result, he has to go out into the field and learn from those his work effects. Assuming that he knows what’s best for everyone while simultaneously never having met those people is literally what he hates most about most people in positions of power, and he strives to not do the same. Being powerful doesn’t mean that your smart, and he knows that first hand. I feel like Sirrus would be into the “eat the rich” thing if it was a thing in the DMC universe. Very into it.

3. His mother. I feel like this one may come as a bit of a surprise to some of you who know more about him from the fic since he’s literally only mentioned her once, and doesn’t speak of her in any broad sense, but Sirrus isn’t on the best of terms with his mother, either. He doesn’t harbor any negativity towards them for splitting up when he was young. In fact, he considers it the best thing that either of them has probably ever done. But he has his reasons for not being on good terms with him mom. Day 6 will cover family and background, so I’ll get to go in depth on that day! For now, lets just put it under the broad but totally accurate category of “extremely toxic and codependent relationship” and go from there. Maybe I’ll make a family tree you you can see how messed up everything is! Yea, that would be fun! Would you like to see that?

4. Extreme heat and sun. In truth, while he does in fact become more powerful in bright sunlight, he still hates it. Why? Simple. It gives him migraines due to one of his existing (but not yet disclosed) abilities. And he just hates to be hot. He’s on the pale side (Ok, he almost makes V look like he has a tan.) so he gets sun burned. And because he’s used to a cooler climate, hot places drive him NUTS. I suppose you could say that “Discomfort” is a dislike of his, too.

5. Desk work. This one probably seems pretty random, but as an adjudicator, he actually has to occasionally file reports, and he ABSOLUTELY HATES EVERY SECOND OF IT. He’s good at what he does, no question there, but it’s kind of like being good at sending corporate emails when you hate the fake corporate politeness that you have to maintain, and you basically despise half of the company you work for. Why does he keep the job? Simple. Because no one can abuse the power of the position he’s in if he does it himself. And for him, that’s worth hating a large aspect of his job,

Likes:

1. V. Yup you read that right. Sirrus absolutely adores V, something that he himself is not used to. At this point, he’s not entirely sure what he feels towards him since they haven’t known one another for very long, but he does realize that he means quite a bit to him. After V saved his life in the fic, he really started to pay more attention to him. Before, they were friendly and he had to admit that he actually did find both V and Nero (and Nico, for that matter) really cute, but that was about it. And then as they started spending more time around one another, Sirrus realized that perhaps he liked being around V for a reason. He’s still working on understanding what he feels, but with everything going on in the fic, for now he’s just there to help and figure out what’s going on so that everything turns out alright. Then he can worry about everything else. But for now, he’s just working it out as he goes and trying to distract V from everything going on in the fic. He realizes that he’s got a lot going on, and he genuinely just wants him to be happy for a few damn minuets.

2. Being around equally strange people. Sirrus feels like an outcast most of the time, so as a general rule, he tries to associate with people as little as possible. That being said, the DMC crew makes him feel right at home, and the supreme otherness that he feels much of the time dissipates when he’s with them. It’s a welcome feeling to be sure.

3. Wine. Sirrus actually enjoys wine quite a bit! It’s something he likes the taste of, and due to his biological inability to drink, it’s something he can basically enjoy without consequence. That being said, his favorite wine is absolutely disgusting to basically everyone who’s ever tasted it (aside form V, much to his surprise) and that may be because of a certain added ingredient that was put into it for flavor. What can I say, he has unorthodox tastes!

4. Cooking good food. Sirrus doesn’t actually need to eat, but he does like to entertain those around him. If he likes you, he will cook for you. It’s that simple. It’s something from his own culture that’s been instilled in him; the idea of taking care of those that show kindness to you. And believe me, that doesn’t happen to him very often. He’s largely ostracized in most social interactions despite the fact that he says and does nothing to cause this. Its a key reason as to why he doesn't talk about what he is. It makes people... uncomfortable. And to add to that, he has a sort of aura to him that unnerves people. The way he tends to look at people at though he’s looking through them instead of at them doesn’t help.

5. Fine arts. Something that doesn’t come up much in the books is that Sirrus has hobbies. And a love for the fine arts. All of them. The more unorthodox, the better. Sirrus is that person who is dead inside and will stare at a piece of artwork for ridiculous amounts of time, pondering it’s meaning. Not in a pretensions way, but in a “what the hell am I doing with my life” sort of way. He’s a walking essential crisis, but he’s nothing if not self aware. But in regards to the arts, if it’s a form of expression, then he’s all for it. And he will probably ask you to teach it to him or become a financial patron to your work. He thinks that art and the people that make it are under appreciated, and the idea of art dying out genuinely scares him to death. He doesn’t think a world without art is worth living in. As an extension to this, he loves history. He considered much of it distasteful, but he recognizes it’s importance.

Bonus: Sirrus likes to send extravagant gifts. This is partially due to the fact that he has a very large sum of money and nothing to spend it on. It’s a regular occurrence that you will mention liking something in passing and then end up having it sent to your house out of nowhere. Sirrus did this to V with basically an entire house of furniture, and V is still trying to process it. But this isn’t the only time he’s going to do something like that. Not by a long shot.

Let me know if you have any questions! I love answering them :D And if you have any input, I’ve love to hear that, too!

[wannawritefast]

Whiplash: Chapter 1- Playing Defense

A/N: Hey, y’all. I know the prologue didn’t get a whole lot of attention but I’ve written a substantial amount for this and I am VERY proud of how much I’ve written and what I’ve written. Also, huge shoutout to @andtheswordwentsnickersnack​ for beta reading this beast of a fic that I’ve been working on for WAYYYY too long LMAO...

Pairing: BoRhap!Brian May x fem!Reader

Prologue

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, awful men, sexism

You loved your family. Really, you did.

But there were times, and many times they were, that you would have been more comfortable ripping your own hair out strand-by-strand than having to sit through another session of verbal abuse.

You weren’t entirely certain what you had done, if anything, to deserve such discrimination from your grandfather, father, and brother amongst a few cousins and uncles. It was like 3 generations of men in your family had decided to use you as a verbal punching bag.

You still vividly remembered the time you had told them that you didn’t particularly appreciate how they talked to you. They laughed right in your face and told you to grow a thicker skin. That Y/l/n’s were a tougher breed than most and that if you couldn’t handle it then maybe you weren’t of their blood.

October break wasn’t any different. Your family had met up for your annual dinner together aside from Christmas.

“And what about you? When are you going to settle down, Y/n?” your grandfather quipped after shoveling a spoonful of mashed potatoes. “I want some great-grandbabies!”

Before you could even open your mouth in response your brother, James, chimed in. “I wouldn’t count on anyone banging her anytime soon.”

“Well,” you chuckled, “would you look at who’s talking?” James grumbled to himself and threw a pea at you which you successfully evaded. You turned your head to address your grandfather. “And I’m not your only grandchild. You have a grandson too, you know.”

You nodded toward your brother and your grandfather hardly even blinked at the last sentence. He either didn’t hear you or didn’t care. Proof that he used any and every opportunity to undermine you. Your grandfather scoffed and mumbled to himself gruffly.

You practically heard your father’s eye roll. “Your career is only so fulfilling.”

“Dad, I’m an astrophysicist and a damn good one, I’d like to think. If my career wasn’t fulfilling enough, I’d be seriously questioning all of the time and money I spent at university writing my thesis and graduating top 5 in my year.” You took a bite out of your roll. Why did you have to defend yourself every time you came home? It was exhausting!

“I’m just saying that you aren’t fully happy until you’ve settled down.”You rolled your eyes at your father. You didn’t have the time to focus on your love life. You barely had time to do your studies as it was. Furthermore, no man you had met seemed to like you after finding out you were an astrophysicist. Nobody seemed to click with you well.

“Why do I need more than my career to be fulfilled in life?” You asked seriously.The whole table laughed at your question. Even the kiddie table laughed but it was just hive mind reflex. You certainly did want to get married and have a family someday but you were making a point to your father. Who was he to dictate what made you happy?

“Please, Y/n,” James piped up again, “that’s what lonely people say to feel better about themselves.”

Ouch. That one stung more than you should have let it. You took a drink to keep yourself from letting a tear roll.

“Who ever said that she’s single?” Your sister spoke suddenly. You coughed and sputtered on your drink. Your neck turned to Donna so swiftly that you probably could have snapped it.

“Are you implying that my eldest daughter is dating a boy,” your mother raised her brows at you conspiratorially, “and didn’t tell me? Is it that smart, goofy boy you fancied at university for the longest time?” She couldn’t seem to keep a grin from spreading across her face.You flushed red at her question. Nobody needed to know that. Except now they did because you were, apparently, no longer single. Everybody at the table locked their eyes on you, muttering to each other. You looked at your sister in panic.

“Go on,” her voice cracked and she cleared her throat before bringing her cup to her lips. “Tell them about your boyfriend.”

Gee thanks… She had just started digging you into a hole.“Wait just a second! Let’s rewind a moment.” James questioned incredulously. “My sister, the stick in the mud astrophysicist, has a boyfriend? Why haven’t you mentioned him before?”

“It’s not relevant who I may or-” you looked at your sister pointedly; she fiddled with her fork “-may not be dating.” The fact that James wasn’t buying it was making you quite nervous. You were more offended though than anything. “Is it really so hard to believe that I’d be dating someone?”

“Yes!”

“Believe it, James” Donna insisted, pointing her fork at him. Put down your damn shovel!

“Have you banged him?” Your brother asked in the silence.

You picked up your drink and splashed him in the face. Your mother softly scolded you for your actions but you were completely unapologetic for what James more than deserved. How you shared the same DNA with such a tool was beyond you… 

“That is hardly your business,” you snipped. You turned and stared down Donna. You were going to have to tell them the truth…

“Ok, that’s quite enough,” your mother stopped everything. Oh, thank the Lord. “We’re here to talk about your sister not her boyfriend.” Thank you, mother. “She’ll just have to bring him over for Christmas!”

You stood up from your chair and it scraped along the floor. What had you done…“That’s ridiculous! What if he wants us to spend time with his family for Christmas?” Why were you even going along with this? Why were you defending your hypothetical boyfriend?

“Then you can split the time between the two!”

“What if he doesn’t want to meet you guys yet?” You suggested. This hole is getting awfully big, Y/n. “Meeting parents is a big deal!” The statement came out as more of a question than a defense. You were honestly hoping for one, just one, objection to stick. “I don’t want to scare him off.”

“Who wouldn’t want to meet us?” Your mother asked. You resisted the urge to answer the question.

“Well, what if we’re not even together anymore by that time?”

“Wow, you really can’t hold onto a man for that long, Y/n? It seems to me like you would have been making this whole thing up if you are ‘broken up’ by then.” James finished wiping his face with a napkin after his encounter with your drink. You locked eyes with him. He was onto you.

“I’m not making this up,” you lied. Apparently you hadn’t put down your shovel yet either.“Then bring him home for Christmas,” James challenged. “Otherwise we’ll know it's a lie.”

Your family was on the edge of their seats and, for the time being, the logistics of the challenge didn’t matter. You were fed up with your brother constantly tearing you down. You were tired of your father not being pleased with anything you did. And you were exhausted by your grandfather’s insistence that you were nothing more than a source for great-grandkids. You got no respect at work and you certainly didn’t get any damn respect at home.

And so you did it. You extended your arm toward your stupid brother’s stupid hand and grasped it firmly with a shake.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, brother dearest.”

[{...}]

Eventually the extended family left and you went to your sister’s bedroom since you were sharing the room and the bed for break.

“Why in the bloody hell would you do something like that?!” You lowered your voice so that your family, more specifically James, wouldn’t hear you. Your sister sat on the bed cross-legged, fiddling with the ends of her hair.

“I’m sorry!” Donna yelled. You shushed her as you brushed your hair. “I couldn’t just watch. James crossed a line with that comment. I just wanted to wipe that stupid smile off of his dumb face.”

“Watch your language, why don’t you?” You teased. She rolled her eyes at you. “But I was fine, honestly. I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be!” You hissed at Donna to be quiet again. “It was nice for them to shut up for a few moments and see you as a normal human being.”

Your heart was warm but you were in a state of complete panic. “That’s such a sweet sentiment in such a terrible circumstance!” You dug your fingers into your temples and threw yourself onto the bed. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t just go up to a guy and say ‘I need you to be my fake boyfriend because my sister dug me into a bloody hole’! You know I can barely get guys to talk to me on a casual basis!” Your voice dropped in volume, no louder than a whisper. “What makes you think that I can get one to play my boyfriend?” You let out a frustrated sigh.

“I honestly did not foresee the consequences of my actions and I am very sorry.”

“Do you think?” You growled to yourself. “Bloody hell… what am I going to do?”

Your sister scratched the back of her neck. “I mean, you have time… It is only October…”

“But I’m going to have to find someone eventually… if I find one.” You gnawed on a fingernail.

“You’ll be fine!” Donna breathed. She curled herself into the blankets next to you. You felt sick to your stomach.

“Yeah…,” you inhaled deeply, “and I’ve got time…”

[hilltopsunset]

4 Ways to Breathe New Life into the Pokémon Franchise

I love the Pokémon franchise. It’s because I love it that I truly want new installments of the game to feel meaningful, to make an impact, and to provide players with something new, different, and worth coming back for without relying on complexities that could turn away new players.

As I will talk about in a later blog post, Game Freak seems afraid to stretch Pokémon’s creative muscles any further; meaningful innovation has been petering out since the end of Generation IV in lieu of minigames like Pokémon Contests and Super Training alongside inconsequential time sinks like Secret Bases and Poké Pelago. While I do enjoy the inclusion of things to do outside the main storyline, these additional events and sidequests should not be the only significant additions to new generations of main-series Pokémon games.

The main attractions of recent generations have provided slight twists to gameplay with the addition of mega evolution and Z-moves, but these changes don’t fundamentally change or challenge the way players experience the game on a moment-to-moment basis. And despite the graphical and processing power of recent gaming devices, and even the long-awaited shift of the franchise to a main console, we are still getting the same low-effort and outdated battle animations we’ve been seeing since X and Y. We are continually denied a more genuine battle experience with Pokémon physically interacting with each other through animations that more appropriately suit each Pokémon’s unique identity.

So what can be done? Here’s a short but detailed list of 4 things I would like to see in a new Pokémon game, in no particular order of importance.

1.       Let the Player Character Be an Active Part of the Story

When has the player character ever been a consequential part of a Pokémon game? They never speak; they never have any personality whatsoever. They never experience any growth, regardless of NPC’s trying desperately to iterate how much the trainer has grown over the course of their journey. Certainly the Pokémon carried by the player character have some impact on the story, but the trainer?

Let them speak! Let the player character actually interact with NPCs in meaningful ways rather than just listening at all times. Give the trainer a personality of some sort. Don’t just slap a never-changing pleasant face onto the model regardless of tense, frightening, or sinister scenarios (I’m looking at you, Sun and Moon). 

Giving the player character a more active role in the story provides intrigue—as a player, it doesn’t feel compelling being pulled from one place to another; it’s not interesting when the only thing pushing me forward is NPCs telling me I need to get the gym badges, or stop Team Rocket. It would be much more interesting if the Player Character had some imperative reason to pursue these endeavors, rather than get involved simply because “it’s the right thing to do” or, worse, “it’s the ONLY thing to do.” I want to watch the character I’m controlling grow as a person and make choices that have positive or negative consequences on people they care about and the places they visit, rather than be a perpetual observer of events with no real stake in the game.

2.       Trainer Levels

Speaking of the player character, create a leveling system for them. There are so many possibilities for a system where the trainer more actively impacts gameplay. For instance, there could be a class system and each class can have unique skill trees that provide access to passive and/or active abilities that improve how the trainer interacts with the world throughout the game. It could be required to choose your path at the beginning of the game, or perhaps you can access them all throughout the game, but can only have one active at a time.

Here’s a list of example possibilities:

Explorer: The explorer class specializes in travel, as well as tracking and catching new Pokémon—this tree can be subdivided into those paths: Travel, Tracking, and Catching. This tree provides skills that assist them in accessing otherwise inaccessible locations, increasing encounter rates with rare Pokémon, and specializing in different types of Poké balls to improve catch chances. Experience for this class is gained through catching Pokémon, encountering rare Pokémon, and exploring (walking in new places, finding treasure, accessing hidden areas, etc.).

Combatant: The combatant class excels at offensive battle prowess through its three branches: Type Affinity, Commands, and Reputation. This tree allows a trainer to specialize in certain Pokémon types (up to 2) to improve their STAB damage. Eventually, you can get a skill that provides STAB for your specialized types even for Pokémon not of those types! You gain access to in-battle shout commands that provide momentary buffs to your party, like improving damage, resisting a big attack, or improving critical hit ratio. A strong reputation will allow you to avoid battle even with trainers who have caught your eye; and in battle, an enemy Pokémon may flinch due to your intimidating presence. Experience is gained by knocking out Pokémon, winning battles, using moves of your type specialization, and issuing commands.

Breeder: The breeder focuses on developing deep relationships with their Pokémon. Skills of this class can be divided into the Breeding, Bonding, and Healing branches. Through this tree, trainers can hatch eggs more quickly, improve high IV chance from newborn Pokémon, develop friendship levels more quickly, etc. Bonding provides Pokémon with beneficial defensive capabilities during battle, like providing a chance to survive an attack that would otherwise bring HP to 0, and having a strong will to resist abnormal status effects like paralysis and confusion. A Breeder’s knowledge of caretaking allows for healing outside of battle, and can even teach Pokémon how to slowly recover in-battle. Experience is gained through hatching eggs, developing friendships with your Pokémon (through feeding/petting, etc.), participating in Contests/minigames, and having Pokémon in your party with whom you have developed a close relationship.

The establishment of a class system like this, where experience is gained through different means relevant to each class, incentivizes players to participate in those aspects of the game, and provides extra rewards for players who already want to get involved. It makes the trainer feel like a relevant and impactful part of the team, rather than a hollow vehicle strictly used to lug the real heroes—your team of Pokémon—from battle to battle.

And for those who think the inclusion of such a mechanic would trivialize the content, I have several suggestions: first, they could easily make the game content more difficult to compensate. Second, they could mitigate the strength of these class skills during key battles like Gym Leaders, the Elite Four, the Enemy Team (Rocket, Galaxy, etc.). Third, NPCs (especially the aforementioned key NPCs) could have access to these skills as well. Remember, I’m asking for significant changes, and this would provide something new, interesting, and impactful.

 3.       Battle Animations

Update them. It’s that simple. Let Blastoise shoot water out of his water cannons rather than out of his face. Let Scorbunny run up to its opponent and give it a nice kick! Get rid of the old, outdated animations of a drawn foot—we now have well-rendered 3D monsters on gaming systems capable of handling the graphical processing necessary for this to happen. Give each Pokémon a more unique identity with their animations; make them feel like they’re actually in a battle with one another. It’s time.

I acknowledge that providing significant animation updates for the 800+ models is an enormous undertaking that would require a massive amount of time and manpower to make possible. To this I say: spend the time doing that rather than developing Dynamax or whatever. Spend the time on more significant animation development instead of wasting that time on another gimmick that isn’t going to significantly impact gameplay anyway.

To be honest, this point alone would be enough to convince me to buy a new Pokémon game.

 4.       Populate the World with Pokémon

I know that the Let’s Go series and Sword/Shield did this a little bit, and while it certainly wasn’t executed perfectly, it was fun running around and actually seeing all the Pokémon that inhabit it. Spawn rates in both games were often a bit too high, resulting in cluttered areas. Adding aggressive Pokémon would further enhance the immersive experience—being required to sneak around certain stronger Pokémon could be a really fun mechanic and provide tension; it was a bit too easy to avoid Pokémon in Let’s Go and in the Wild Area. While it was nice to get through Mt. Moon without encountering a single Zubat, imagine instead running through a section of the cave with a trail of 15 Zubats on your tail? Make me work for it a little!

Ultimately, I want to see Pokémon behaving more naturally in their habitats, and not just in sections of the world that I can’t get to. I want to run into a Caterpie hanging from a tree, or a Fearow fishing for Goldeen, or a Pikachu grooming itself. I want to interrupt Pokémon from their lives, not run into a giant gaggle of automatons circling tiny areas for no reason.

So there it is: a look at just a few things Pokémon games could include to make things more interesting and breathe new life into an aging franchise. These changes would require work, but any new game should—I would hate to see Pokémon continue the troubling trend of easy and/or insignificant content when there is so much potential to do so much with what they have.

With all that said, I do want to offer a bit of praise—Sirfetch’d and Galarian Ponyta are pretty awesome, and Galarian Weezing is perfectly ridiculous. But I ask that you keep in mind what your money is telling Game Freak when you purchase their games: it tells them that you don’t mind the severe lack of innovation and improvement. It tells them you don’t mind Scorbunny hopping in place as a giant, orange, human foot strikes its opponent. It tells them that you’re willing to fund their copy/paste animations from 6 years ago, their uninspired gameplay updates, and their ever-increasing focus on gimmicks and minigames.

As for me, I will continue holding Pokémon to a higher standard and hoping that, eventually, Blastoise will fire water from his cannons.  

[smolbeandrabbles]

Trade Off - Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody x Reader (Animal Kingdom)

@wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​

@mandy23b​ - in advance please forgive this ridiculous little AU.🙈 GIF CREDIT: X

Author’s Note: Look - it’s my favourite scene in the whole movie, OK? Let me have this slight AU!  But we all know in the happy universe in my head it all worked out after this right?

Also, for those unaware, yes... you can sing about stock trading! Imagine how happy I was to find fitting lyrics!

Disclaimer: AK has nothing to do with me /  I really tried to gloss over/layman's terms stock trading... I don’t know if I did a good job / Lyrics & gifs not mine.

Premise: After Baz pitches to Andrew the idea of stock trading it’s clear his friend is fairly dismissive. Baz enlists your help to follow through...

Words: 4126

Warnings: Swearing / brief mention of drugs / Slight AU

_____

Your gonna break my bank before too long I'm taking out a loan But when you turn your kind of lovin' on Honey I just can't say no, no no no no no no

Your gonna break my bank before too long I'm running out of dough But when you turn your kind of magic on Honey I just can't say no, no no no

Maybe I'll play the stock market Put some money in my pocket Ain't no telling what your gonna need next I need to steal a Sherman tank Just to break into a bank All my buddies think it's funny 'Cause I'm spending all my money On some honey like there's something to prove 'Cause for a little of your lovin' There ain't nothing much that I wouldn't do It's a business doing pleasure, a business doing pleasure with you

---

With the amount of time Andrew and yourself seemed to be spending around each other these days, you weren’t sure why one of you hadn’t taken up permanent residence in the others home. That deduction wasn’t exactly fair – he was with you to hide from the police for yet another thing he’d gone and done (that you didn’t want to know about), and he wasn’t about to leave the house you’d just pulled up at. Maybe Baz would eventually be able to persuade him that living with you was the good idea, but you weren’t sure you’d be able to do it alone. Of course without Baz you wouldn’t be here right now with all your gear – but you understood why this wasn’t a conversation that could come through Andrew. He’d never talk about it, maybe bury it in the back of his mind and forget the discussion ever happened with his friend. Baz had got home and immediately called you, to try and keep the idea on the table. By involving you Baz would create two fronts for the same goal; perhaps you’d be able to collectively persuade something out of Andrew yet – out of this house and out of this life… You weren’t about to hold your breath. But you’d take anything as a start. When you reached the front door and knocked, you were surprised for it not to be opened by your partner (or his partner in crime). Andrew usually headed you off at the sound of your engine, instead you came face to face with a teen you didn’t recognise. He also clearly had no idea who you were, by the fact that he stood there blinking with a blank expression. You took a step back and surveyed the driveway; okay, one car was missing but you doubted that absolutely everyone was out at once. You wouldn’t expect Andrew to venture out under anything but the cover of midnight with the cops probably still out there looking for him… having said that, apparently the lead up conversation had happened in a supermarket, so what did you know. “Uh,” You turned back to him, looking super awkward and not at all a part of the house he was standing in, “hey. Are the guys in?” He straightened a little, “Uhm, some of them are y-yeah, would you like me to get them? I mean I can-” He pointed back, then squinted at you, trying to recall if he had ever seen your face and if there were a name to go with it. Concluding the answer was no, he asked the question; “Uhm, who..?” “Y/N.” Your eyes flicked behind him, “Though you can also hold that thought.” “I’ll take it from here, mate.” The teen turned to Andrew, a few steps behind him up the corridor, and also who you were now staring at. “Oh, sure.” His back up against the wall already let you know what the power play was. “Hey-!” You stopped him before he left, “What’s your name?” “…Jay.” “Jay? Jay… Jay…” You pondered for a second, because Andrew had mentioned this before, “Oh! Julia’s son! Yes! It’s nice to meet you, Jay!” and with a smile on your face, to Jay it was almost startling that anyone to do with this family – Andrew in particular - would give him such a thing. “You too, Y/N.” Andrew shot him a look that seemed to suggest he forget your name in the next 3 seconds or face consequences, before turning those blue eyes on you. “What are you doing here?” You kept your reply level to his blunt question. “You just left. Which I expected, but you left some stuff. Not why I’m here, though.” You indicated to the house, “May I enter?” Andrew took a step back and nodded, beckoning you forward. You looked left and right with an affirming nod that you weren’t followed and hopped inside, arms winding around him immediately. “Oh my god, Andrew, are you okay?” “Fine.” You closed your eyes, burying your face in his shoulder, waiting patiently until he returned your embrace, “I know it’s stupid,” you mumbled, “but every time I hear sirens, I…” “Don’t. Don’t do that to yourself.” He only murmured it, hand to the back of your head, “…Why did you come?” “Oh, well-” You didn’t want to pull away but you wished to explain, moving your laptop case around, “I hear you don’t have a computer – and failing that, I do have every decent stock trading newspaper you could possibly hope for!” Andrew blinked slowly a few times, bemused by your encouraging grin, “Baz.” It wasn’t a question. “Mhm!” “You’re both crazy.” You weren’t about to let him dismiss this, and followed him into the back of the house – by the looks of it only he and Jay were in, “Wait-! I thought it was a good shout! Will you at least hear us out?” “No. It’s ridiculous.” “Andrew…” He paused and turned to your defeated tone, “Humour me.” He sighed heavily at the look on your face, “Okay. Fine…” He held his hand out for yours, and you linked your fingers with a gentle smile, it was a start. Hopefully Andrew would be receptive to the rest of the information you had to impart. ***

You slid your laptop out of its bag and powered it on, Andrew sat tentatively next to you, clearly unsure about the whole thing. You were certain that by the time you’d talked him through this, and made it so easy for him to understand what to do, with Baz’s help you could turn the tables. You didn’t think this was going to be an overnight miracle, but if it did anything at all that would be an achievement.

As you waited for your own profile to load, you opened today’s selection of newspapers to the trading pages and lay them out in front of him. Right now they looked like a bunch of funny letters with green, red or black numbers. And occasionally a confusing looking graph. It wouldn’t be long before Andrew Cody was reading these like a pro. “Woah.” Andrew’s eyes flicked from the papers to your screen, and he jabbed the number in the top right, “What is that?!” You supposed to him ‘that’ was an eye watering amount of Australian dollars. “That’s how much my portfolio is worth right now. It’ll fluctuate but it’s always somewhere around there. I always tend to go safe - but that means buying high and usually they stay high. You can buy low and have something grow exponentially, but also risk investments blowing up in your face. As you’re starting, maybe you’d like to invest in a bit of both. It’s all a guessing game Andrew, so there’s no wrong answers. If I set you up a profile and get you started, you can do it at your leisure. If you don’t want the hassle of a computer, then it’s as easy as collecting a paper, I can manage your portfolio for you. Or you can go the other way and pay someone else to do it. And if you trust them, then it’s as simple as giving them your money and they make the trades for you. But that’s maybe not so much fun if you’re looking to make a living out of this, which you certainly can. It’ll give you something to do, at least.” “Yeah, but how does that work? How do you make money?” You supposed you were happy that he had questions, and was cutting straight to it. You’d expect nothing less from this Cody. “Two ways. Your shares pay out dividends to you – i.e. a share of company profits - a few times a year, best to spread your portfolio over companies that pay out in different months to have a steadier income! Or you buy low, sell high as you can, or buy high sell even higher and make money like that. Then you keep the money or invest it, so on and so forth.” Baz had explained to you that he'd put thousands into this and was making good money and that he’d mentioned this to Andrew, met only with confusion. It was your job to untangle that.

You pointed to the number he was still staring at, “If I sell everything I have right now, I can have that in the bank, right? Instead I get paid steadily throughout the year. If you’re gonna make a living out of this,” you made sure to give him a look that would get Andrew’s stare back on you, because you meant it, “you’ll probably want to do a bit of both.” “Where am I getting the money for this, exactly?” You folded your arms, he surely had money of his own but you wanted all this to be as clean as possible, “If you’re prepared to take this seriously, I’m prepared to front you the money. I can make recommendations too if you want that. But I was gonna help you pick a few out for yourself...” “I don’t even know where to start.” Andrew’s voice strained for a second as he ran a hand through his hair, blowing out a breath. “Baby, baby...” The last thing you needed was for him to start winding up on you, you took his hand “that’s why I’m here. We do this together, slow or fast as you like, okay? Let’s see what you like the look of, alright?” “...I- I don’t know...” “Andrew.” You moved your hands to his thighs, face close to his, “This is yours, you’re not expected to be an expert overnight, but you have help now. This is a real chance for you... and I know that counts for something. You can’t want to spend the rest of your life like you have the past few months?” You didn’t want him to either, and as he turned from you again you scraped your nails through his hair, as if to tuck it back behind his ear. Andrew’s blue eyes searched your screen for an answer, hand laying on top of yours, not holding you, but still there. “Hey, maybe you and Baz can go into trading together.” You thought that might have been Baz’s idea and motivation anyway, and if Andrew had someone to do this with, in times that you weren’t around, that might help his desire to be involved. His eyes returned to yours, this look hard and piercing, like you were insane. Andrew instantly began to set you straight: “You really think this is just gonna end?” “No.” And that was the truth. You knew better. “But I’m optimistic that it would wind down and you can change.” “It’s too late for that.” “No. It isn’t. Andrew you can’t write yourself off. No one else has - we’re here and we believe in you.” Baz and yourself, your family… The people that really mattered, the people who would actually support him. This time you linked his fingers with yours, “Baby, I want a future with you... I’m scared that one day someone is going to turn up at my door and tell me you’re dead.” It was obvious how serious you were by the tone of your voice, that little waiver you weren’t holding back. “Y/N...” “Andrew, I will beg you... please just- have a go and think about it, and I just- I don’t want to lose you.” He looked back to your portfolio - as if a bunch of numbers and charts and virtual money was going to give him all the answers. But how could it? How could this be the key to the way out of the life he was living? He didn’t see it - and yet you and Baz so desperately believed in this. Andrew didn’t want to let you both down, and yet maybe he could get a kick out of proving you both wrong. Crime was the only way... but crime isn’t the only way... Heck you already had tried labouring the point that drugs wasn’t going to cut it with you. But there were track marks still in his skin, weren’t there. You couldn’t save him, but you tried so hard... you probably deserved him trying. “Okay.” His voice was quiet, but he looked back to you with a nod, “Show me.” You explained it all in as basic layman’s terms; most important to you was that he didn’t have any excuses for not being able to follow though once you left. You taught him how to read the numbers and exchange names in the paper first, green up, red down, black unchanged. That as long as he had noted what he bought them at he could always make sure to sell at profit. Then you spent a little while setting up his profile on your website and Andrew began trying to figure out where he wanted to invest the money you were saying you’d front him. You had a lot of fun watching him scrunch his face in concentration and try to reason out why he should invest in this particular thing. Some of it was way off, but you guided him - he’d get it, of that you were certain. Andrew was sharp, this was all new. You wouldn’t be surprised if later tonight you got a call: Y/N, I can’t sleep but I’ve been thinking about these investments and... You kept flicking back to your own to show him that he could start with what looked small and yet end up with something like this relatively easily, and you knew Andrew was starting to get it when he could interpret a graph without you telling him what it meant. And there was a hint of enjoyment on his face when you would smile and nod and say, “Yes exactly!”

The next time you heard footsteps, Baz was the one waltzing into the room. “Ahhh! Jay told me you two would be hiding someplace and HOLY SHIT-! Is that an investment portfolio!?!” He jogged his friend’s shoulder, “Oh, so it’s hard if I ask, but when your girlfriend pulls up you can put one together, huh!?” Andrew tipped his head, pushing Baz back, “You’re in this together, don’t give me that bullshit.” Baz cackled and hugged you, “Ah! That’s my girl-! You got him invested in you yet?!” “No, that could go wrong, very wrong. I didn’t even mention my company.” Andrew’s eyes flicked between you, causing Baz to smirk, “There you go Pope, you can get your criminal activity in there instead-! Invest and break the law! And you don’t even have to go outside to do it!” “Don’t encourage him!” You folded your arms, mouth open in disbelief - the goal of this was the complete opposite! This was Baz’s big plan, what was he doing!? “What?” “Insider trading.” You turned to Andrew, “Like, buy shares of my company and, as CIO, I tell you when you buy or sell depending on what we’re up to that will have the stock market value pushed up or down.” “Oh, you can do that?” And then at the look on your face Andrew changed track, “But it would be illegal. I get it. Can I invest in your company though?” “Knock yourself out, but I’m not telling you anything!” “This is your chance to have her never talk about work to you ever again, Pope! I’d take it!” “Shut up!” But there was even a small amused smile on Andrew’s face as Baz laughed this time around. “See all you need is to know some people within companies and you can do insider trading all over your portfolio!!” “I thought we were getting out of crime not getting you in more trouble!” “I’m trying to encourage him!” “Can’t believe I’m about to say it’s better than drugs, but we are not starting with insider trading! Oh my god-!” “Ah! But it is better than pushing drugs! Right Andrew?” Andrew looked to you, and you dare him to say it, “She thinks anything is better than drugs.” “I cannot believe you two.” You turned back to Baz, “Leave right now-! Before he latches onto this...!” “I was only kidding!” But he motioned to leave anyway, grabbing Andrew’s shoulders again, “I know she’s joking but seriously no insider trading, mate, you’ll lose her!” “I’ll lose my job too probably!” “Ah-! Yeah, definitely not-!” Baz waved, “See you later, happy investing!” Then turned back, “Oh yeah! Pope, remember to make sure that portfolio also supports your uptown girls’ lavish lifestyle!” He looked directly at you, tongue in cheek. “WHAT?!” “Gotta cost to run a Lamborghini everywhere in your designer heels and purse, darlin’.” You let Baz know you were not impressed, but that only made him laugh as he started back down the stairs. Andrew watched him go with a shake of his head; “He’s a fucking moron.” “His heart is in the right place.” You mused, turning back to your partner, “Yours is sometimes, too.”

**

Before long Andrew was leaning on his arms staring at your computer screen with a blank look on his face. You thought that meant that his interested attention on this was just about over. You made sure your movement was slow as you ran your hand up his arm and shoulder, stroking his back gently before sifting your fingers through his hair. Andrew’s eyes remained on your screen as he blinked slow, but the quiet hum you pulled from him was enough; he was content. When you moved to shut everything down, he simply nodded and let you continue to stroke his back for a few minutes; he closed his eyes, moving his head to rest across his arms and you knew Andrew felt safe, he trusted you enough to simply do that. Baz gave you a general call soon after: “Kids! We’re eating if you wanna come grab something.” Andrew was slow off the mark, wanting to stay with just you for a little while longer, but when he followed you downstairs, Baz and Jay were out of the way of the main room and kitchen. You sat yourself up on the counter as you both continued your conversation, sometimes with words and sometimes in silence but fluid, there was no break in communication, not even once. Andrew remained as close to you as possible and you ate in comfortable silence, still content to sit up on the counter. He seemed a little too into touching you today, nearly always keeping a hand on one part of you – you were prepared to call him possessive; it was surely Jay’s presence making him do this. If not you’d welcome a change up, but you highly doubted that after all this time Andrew would do such a thing. You let him if only to revel in the attention, making sure to afford him affection back, hand over his, or touching him in the same place. All very delicate – and yet kissing you was a step too far, no matter how close he got. You’d persuade one out of him eventually, you were sure… You spent a little time after that talking with Jay and Baz, glad that the other three weren’t present. Although not entirely sure why, also not eager to find out. Andrew’s participation in the conversation barely registered, attention on you the whole time. Today not hard to keep, and very much wanted. If only you could guarantee such a thing more regularly… and yet maybe if Baz and yourself managed to achieve something, and start something here, perhaps you really could. Eventually your mobile rudely interrupted you. “What? No! Stay!” Baz protested. “Much as I would love to,” you glanced to Andrew, “and I really would – David’s in town so I gotta go meet him.” “David?” “Brother.” Andrew answered for you. You noticed how it never quite got back to his family that your foster brother also happened to be a cop. Long may it remain that way. “Aw, bring him here!” “Uh. NO.” You waved that one off quickly, “It was lovely to meet you Jay! Baz, a pleasure as always!” “No worries – I’ll call you later this week, yeah?” “You may.” You gave him a wink, as if he needed your permission, and collected your bag before Andrew walked you to the door. “If you need me to get you a computer-” He made a sound of discontent, “Let’s just- see how it goes. Okay?” “Alright, but I’m here for you, you know that, right?” “Of course I do.” He gave a nod, “I said I’d try. I’m not breaking a promise to you.” Try was a big word, Andrew was always trying for you… You just wanted something to stick now. You prayed it would be this. His hand remained in yours until you got to the outside door, where you swivelled back to him, gathering his other hand. “Thank you, for hearing us out on this.” “Save that for more than day one.” “But there’s a day one!” You beamed, “That already means more to me than you can imagine.” Andrew gave a nonchalant shrug, but he could imagine, quite clearly. You pulled yourself into him, brushing your lips gently to his. As he wasn’t being so generous with his kisses today, you were content to leave it as just that. Instead Andrew let your hands go and locked his arms behind your shoulders; keeping you against his lips, Andrew’s kiss became fierce. Oh, you’ll kiss me like this now your nephew isn’t in sight, huh?! But you wanted it; pushing your body up against his you wound your arms around him, fingers tangling back in his hair as he coaxed a gentle groan from you. Of course that was what Andrew wanted, by the way he smirked into the kiss. He pulled back, leaving you a little wide eyed and whiney, automatically craving more than that – and trying to catch your breath without panting too hard. By the way his eyes were studying your face (and liking what he saw), Andrew was clearly going to leave it there and took a step back as if to prove it. “Will I see you later?” It took a moment for what he’d said to register, “Uh, I… We’re having dinner, but as far as I know he’s driving back. Do you want me back… here?” “Call me when you’re done. I’ll see where I’m at.” “O-Okay…” Your head was still swimming from the kiss, and he shook his head slowly at you, granting you a single chaste one for balance, and as a mercy. You almost verbally thanked him. You took Andrew’s hand back in yours to walk those final two steps out of the house and the door, before turning to say your final goodbyes. Probably not for the day, maybe you’d get to see him later on. Hopefully he’d make good on that kiss – there’s no way Andrew didn’t know you didn’t want to leave him now. As you walked towards your car he couldn’t resist calling after you: “Don’t forget to keep me up to date on what you’re doing before you report to the street!” You couldn’t help but burst out laughing as you slid into your car, “Hell no, Andrew Cody! We aren’t doing that!” As you buckled up and started your engine he strolled over, so you wound your window down, “What?” He leant on your car door, “I did want to thank you for coming up. On account of everything else you do. Take care of yourself.” You rubbed his hands affectionately with a small smile, “You don’t have to thank me verbally.” Evidence, that’s what you really wanted. “I will, make sure you do too. No insider trading! I’m serious!” “No promises. Say hi to David.” You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, he’s exactly the kind of person who’d pick you up on it… Stay safe, at least until I call you again.” Andrew gave a nod, but it wouldn’t surprise you if his fingers were crossed behind his back as he stepped away from your car, hand raised. You waved back, taking a deep breath. One step at a time… You could do this, the three of you could do this if you worked together… It would be worth it; the road might be long but the destination was worth getting to. If Andrew could see that. He will, one day he will… You smiled as you pulled from the curb, you had faith, you believed in him. You had a future. There was nothing else worth believing in.

---

Thank you for reading! 😘😘😘

[fairiesherefairiesthere]

A candle passed on.

My entry for @fuckyeahfraxus ‘s fraxusweek! Day one: He likes guys.

This also has some Chendy in it, old gays supporting young gays u know

Freed hadn't been wary when Wendy had approached him, but he had felt a certain type of nervousity that usually appears when someone who's seen you in less than graceful states approaches you. That is, until she stands right before him and he can pick up the little telltale signs that she's far more nervous than he is. Shuffling with her feet, bouncing toe to toe, yep the child's jumpy alright.

Deciding to give her time to speak her mind, he merely gives her a questioning glance and in return, is met with puffed up cheeks and little fists balled in determination. "Mister Freed!" she yells and he winces a bit at the volume, making the girl colour red. "Yes?", he politely answers and Wendy aggressively sits down on the chair in front of him. "I have come to bargain!" she continues, face still determined but voice definitely a bit softer.

Rest of the fic under the cut!

"Have you now?" He smiles in amusement, but tries his hardest to come across as non-judgemental. Most of the time coming across in such a manner is the least of his concerns, but he's got the feeling that Miss Marvell wouldn't like it very much. "I will give you this", she states and puts a pouch filled with tooth-rotting sweets in front of him, opened and well within reach. "And in return, you will accompany me and uhh... a certain partner in crime to the Festival of Fiore in Crocus."

Suppresing a smile and the urge to pat her head, he leans back, pretending to think it over. He hates overly sugared sweets and even if he didn't, there wasn't much stopping him from taking them and leaving. "I don't know Miss Marvell", he lazily drawls and she tenses up, "I don't know if I can agree to your terms. How 'bout this", he says, faking some type of accent and leaning forward conspiratorialy. She giggles, leans forward too and takes on the accent as well. "What's ya offuhr, Mister uhhh Freed?"

"My last name is Justine, if you were wondering", he interjects politely and she oohs softly, probably remembering it. "Here's the offer lil missy, you take this pouch right back", he says and slides it back to her, "Instead ya give me exactly one nice picture of that evening. Ya've got one of those polaroids dun'ya? Also, I'll be bringing a partner in crime of me own aswell."

"Oh okay", she says, already forgetting about the accent. "I can do that, thank you Mister Freed." He shakes his head. "No need to thank me and you can just call me Freed. Calling me Mister makes me feel old." Cocking her head, Wendy gives him a confused look. "Well aren't you? You're like, twenty or something. A whole adult."

Immediately, Freed is blessed with a flashback to yesterday, where he had stubbed his toe on the same table leg, three times in a row. Wendy, bless her heart, continues. "My other option was my team, but I'd like to enjoy the festival, not burn it down, you know?"

"Then I'll be leaving Ever and Bicks at home", he says, thinking about the things they've destroyed together. Contrary to team Natsu however, they've got a few good liars on their team and are consequently not known as an utter disaster of a team (though thanks to certain situations, they definitely qualify). Naturally he waves off Wendy's questioning gaze, unable to throw his team under the bus like that.

"Then me and my accomplice will meet up with you and Chelia at the station tomorrow?" Wendy nods before letting out a startled little gasp. "I didn't tell you that! Are you actually smart Mister Freed?"

"I'd like to think so", he frankly replies, brows furrowed and Wendy merely shrugs. "Our mission together", is all the context she gives and honestly, also the only context needed. "Ah", is the delightful answer he offers before they part ways. It's the most graceful one he's got for now.

The festival is fun, Wendy decides, swinging Chelia's hand about as the both of them skip from booth to booth. Even with their money combined, the amount they could comfortably spend is pretty low. This problem was solved by either Freed or Laxus chipping in when either of them has been staring too long or too wistful at a certain booth. Both of them had fervently tried to refuse, but Freed had merely shrugged. "Don't worry about it, we have the luck of being financially stable adults." Laxus had added his own two cents. "Just go and be happy go lucky little squirts, it suits you two better."

It's no wonder that Freed had brought Laxus along, Wendy realises, because the two are practically joined at the hip. By having the opportunity to watch them during the day, she comes to the conclusion that it's also no surprise that Laxus had agreed to come along, as the two of them are clearly close. Although they bully each other quite a bit and are ridiculously competitive (when she had see them 'playing' icehockey, she wondered if it had been a good idea to see them as responsible adults), they openly cherish each other.

The sound of violins catches her attention and hand in hand, she and Chelia go to investigate, the adults following in tow. The source of the upbeat music is a group of musicians and on the square they're gathered, there are also people dancing, waving intricate designs with their bodies. She really wants to join, but can't figure out what patterns the people are making and what the exact sequence of the steps is. Looking at Chelia, it quickly becomes clear that the other girl doesn't know either.

"Young Lady, may I have this dance?" a voice interrupts her then and it's Freed reaching out his hand. "As soon as you've got the steps down, I'll let the two of you dance together. Let's lay the foundation down first." He helps her with the steps, explaining them in a soft voice and helping her find the beat. It's fun. When glancing at Laxus, who's trying to teach an overenthusiastic Chelia the same steps, she finds herself giggling at the lack of progress.

"Are we laughing at people who are learning Miss Marvell?" he asks her, hidden grin obvious in his voice. "Then let's see how you yourself fare when the tempo picks up", he says and right at that moment it does. For a little while, Wendy holds her own, but then she has to give up. It's simply too much, she thinks and whines a bit theatrically about it at Chelia who also had had to tap out, as she lays her head on the other girl's lap. Together, they watch as the two older men dance, skipping from partner to partner until they finally meet each other right when the music ends.

"Boo", Chelia says softly, stroking Wendy's hair. "I wanted to see some competitive dancing. I think they would've turned it into an amical fistfight in seconds. That's just how boys and their friendships work", she says sagely and Wendy nods.

A new song starts, romantic and slow unlike the previous one and instead of meeting up with the girls, the men seem to melt into each other and forget the rest of the world exists. Their grip, previously somewhat clumsy and harsh from being thrown at each other in the last second of a song, softens considerably and becomes more intimate with hands upon hips and distances close. The sweet song is short, but the accompanying dance oh so telling. Their touches speak of familiarity and their expression of closeness, of a love that's built on a sturdy friendship and had bloomed into more.

"Oh", she whispers, "He likes guys." She isn't sure who exactly she's referring to, but the words tumble out of her mouth, clumsy and not really what she wanted to say. "People are staring at them", she continues, a bit uncomfortable by some of the glares and hyperaware of her own position. "But it doesn't change a thing, does it?" Chelia says absentmindedly. "They are in loves and they are dancing. Does the world even exist when you're so near your lover?" Sinking back into the comfort of Chelia petting her hair, Wendy comes to the conclusion that no, it doesn't.

They end the day by watching the fireworks together and from the corner of her eyes, Wendy catches Freed and Laxus exchancing a quick kiss. Turning her head away to give them privacy, she meets Chelia's eyes and the unspoken look of 'you saw that too right?' is present. With a little squeeze to Chelia's hand, she steps closer and puts her arms around the other girl as they watch the fireworks together. They aren't at the stage of admitting feelings or kissing yet, but looking at the adults who are doing alright, Wendy feels secure. They give her hope for her own future love, as  theirs (a love already burning longer than hers), hadn't been stomped out by the world yet. Things would be alright and she had all the time in the world to make them turn out that way.