#and even though i do encourage everybody to have that it means nothing without GOD first and foremost

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

It's interesting how many people compensate for the lack (or failure) of companionship and love with money and success. I especially see this with women. Since their relationships failed miserably and bitterly, money and success can and will replace the lack of fulfillment in the relationship area.

[trippygalaxy]

i feel like some of these questions conflict themselves/you've already but idk there are a lot and idk how to word them/i can't find them so feel free to ignore them

(i am dyslexic i wholeheartedly thought her love interest's name was lol nyah until i went back to reread it😭)

(i also know nothing about dnd so bear with me. this is like the equivalent of falling in love with one character but never being able actually get into their franchise)

1.) in the nicest way possible, why does grim look like that? because oh my god? that's a lil scary?

a.) does everyone who's a puppet for the voice look like that?

b.) why are the areas around her eyes charred? is it an effect caused by the puppet or was it because of something that happened to her?

c.) why that mask? do all of the voice's puppets have it or is the design specific to her? why does she take it everywhere? is it apart of the "i have no face," thing.

2.) so, in contrast to the voice, it seems that it and grim's personalities differ greatly from what i've seen of them.

a.) after the voice turns someone into a puppet, i know you mentioned they forget all their memories, but do they still have their personalities or are they like a blank sheet?

b.) do puppets have any type of autonomy outside of the voice? would grim be able to go against what the voice is telling her to do in order to help someone?

c.) "if someone is in trouble, i go out of my way to help them." does that willingness to help only extend to certain extents, or would she help anybody and everybody?

3.) because she's a puppet, would she consider the voice a tyrant? does she consider it the law?

a.) does she even remember what the voice did (i. e. the slaughter of the town, all the "horrible acts," etc).

b.) is she like a mindless follower of the voice as though it's a religion/cult, or does she treat it like it's just something she does as a job?

c.) she says no one cab get preferential treatment from the law and that no ones above it. does that extend to everyone no matter the circumstance (i. e. someone is dying but they committed an unrelated crime, it's a poor child who had to steal, etc). is the voice above the law?

4.) once again circling back to the voice being some sort of cult thing.

a.) does it have a following? if so, how big is it? are they trying to build one?

b) "the voice is my savior; i am their guardian." why would the voice need a guardian? is it being threatened by something? if so, what?

c.) can there be multiple guardians/puppets at a time?

d.) based on her backstory, are the voice's means of recruiting puppets by (doing something like) hypnotizing them only?

e.) if the voice is an angel assumedly no longer in the heavens, why does it even care about divine beings being worshipped?

f.) can the voice be killed?

5.) she has trust issues. why?

a.) who are her "allies"?

b.) does she easily make allies? does she even have friends?

c.) did she have friends prior to becoming a puppet?

d.) why can't she have a name or face? is it dangerous or is it because it'll encourage the voice's puppets to stop working for it?

e.) are statues like grim the only way the voice gets it's puppets?

6.) is ki like the mana of this world?

a.) are all puppets monks?

b.) what's (a) aasimar?

c.) she's of divine blood. does it come with other powers aside from those listed? to what extent does it make her immortal?

7.) aside from having it's own agenda, does the voice still do things under the thoughts of working for their god/s or deities?

a.) why is it using puppets to do it's bidding? are there not other ways to wreck havoc/get what it wants without them?

b.) does it still look like an angel, or has it been horribly disfigured? do they even have a face, or is it in a similar situation to it's puppets ("i have no name, no face.")?

8.) why was grim so different from the other statues?

a.) what made the sculptors design her so human?

a.) what made her so special to the voice? wouldn't the other sculptures be prime candidates as well?

b.) why was she being offered to nobles?

9.) you mentioned grim has difficulty trusting her allies. is she the same with lolnye? is their romantic interest in each other one-sided or reciprocated?

a.) is lolnye under the voice as well, or is she her own independent person?

b.) what does she look like? what's her personality?

c.) what made lolnye and grim meet? can they fall into a trope (enemies to lovers, a little more than coworkers, etc)?

d.) what was lolnye's upbringing like? did she even have one, or was she just created like grim?

OKAY SO I DEF NEED TO SLIP THIS UP INTO LIKE TWO, MAYBE THREE PARTS WHICH I LOVE

WOOOW, HOWW RUDE!! TLDR: Her Divine blood/abilities aren't made for her mortal form which...caused her to burn her! A.) No! Grim's look and appearance is unique to her and her alone! B.) Her areas around her eyes are charred because of her Radiant Consumption! The bright divine light that shines from her eyes is too much for her half mortal body! She over used her divine abilities which caused her eyes to go white and to burn around her eyes. Its hurts like a bitch but The Voice is persistent about her using it. C.) (NOT LORE: The mask is also because of her dnd SubClass as a monk.) The mask is specific to her and her alone, but Grim doesn't know that. The mask is like her face in a way, that is how she 'wants' to be perceived and it is def apart of the 'I have no face' thing! As she (and The Voice) sees it, to have a face and name means that you can be remembered and to be remembered means that youre important. She, Grim, is not important, she is simply a vessel to carry out the plans of The Voice.

Really? Hmm, interesting >:3 A.) Grim is actually the only 'Puppet' that has had their memories erased :D. B.) Grim does have control over her own body and she could go against The Voice BUT why would she? If The Voice, the 'reincarnation of mercy', deemed someone not worth saving, why should she question them? C.) If this person was a horrible person/deemed unworthy by The Voice Grim wouldn't even glance their way, other than that she's more than willing to get her hands dirty to save someone.

Grim considers The Voice the Law, cause she (Grim) isn't a person. A.) Grim has NO memory of her past. She doesn't remember her origins or the sins of The Voice, The Voice made sure of that. B.) A little bit of both! She follows the order of The Voice like a mindless follower, worshiping the divine light that is The Voice. But she also does consider this like her job! She seeks out the ills of the world and purges them from the earth. (Grim is a weird mix of The Grim Reaper, a plague doctor and a vigilante?) C.) HMMMMM TOUGH QUESTION MMMMMMMMM okay, the voice is above the Law to Grim considering that they are a....ya know a divine being! I do think that Grim has a soft spot for children and animals, so she does kinda go against The Voice when it comes to hurting one of those two!

:3 A.) It does have a following! It is was rather big before The Voice was sealed but after that it quickly dwindled. Now its just a small group of people. It IS trying to regrow its following! B.) The Voice doesn't really need a guardian but plants that seed of thought into Grim's brain to reinforce their dynamic and (toxic) bond. But there are higher beings (aka gods/deities) that go against/hate the voice. (Those are the ones who Sealed them away.) C.) The Voice considers all of their followers as their 'puppets' but Grim hasn't met another 'puppet' like her, aka a military/force/guardian. So as she (and we know), Grim is the only guardian but isn't the only puppet. D.) Its less hypnotizing and more emotional and mental manipulation! They use their heavenly status to just...be a DICK to everyone!! The Voice goes after those in need/naive or just weakminded people, they manipulate them (potential puppets) into believe that The Voice are their savoir! (The Voice isn't against blackmailing/ death threats to convert people either :D) E.) Because even if they aren't in heaven, they still SEE themselves as a divine being and despises the idea of being seen as any less than that! CLASSIC NARCISSIST MOVE!! F.) .....Hehehehehe......

[waterfallswords]

;

During the back and forth, Egil's senses prick with an unfamiliar sense. An intangible shift rippling beneath the surface of the playful exchanges. Their teasing friendship was honed since childhood and now it takes on hues unseen before. Loki's statement about Astrid's gaze echoes in Egil's mind. His perception sharpens, eyes tracing the contours of Astrid's face seeking answers in the subtleties of her expression. Are they...have they always flirted with one another? "Why do you want to annoy me so much today?" Egil's gripes, waving a hand at her to avoid the cold touch of her palms. Though he doesn't think they'll feel as cold as he previously stated. "I am not grumpy." he then retorts, his voice tinged with defiance as a grin finds a way to his lips.

Egil returns to the banter with ease, after all, it's something they've always done and he plops a bite of bread into his mouth with a smug grin as Astrid defends her skills. "If that makes you feel better about fighting the easy way, then by all means. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Astrid." he goads cockily and boastful. He can't control laughing with her, even if it's at his own expense and Egil dismisses it with amusement. "Thorin was annoying me before you arrived, so it is not bread or water that will kill me. It will be my brother or a...f...you." Friend he was going to say but the word suddenly doesn't form. It doesn't feel accurate and now Egil is sending a thousand curses to Loki with his mind, blaming the trickster brother for stirring all of these emotions without warning. Egil leans back again to avoid a pinch against his cheek, swiping at Astrid's hand. "Stop! Gods, Astrid."

He continues to eat as she winds away with yet more jests, Egil's eyes widening in sarcastic encouragement. "Oh yes, Death Shadow." he remarks scoffing. "Because everybody is afraid of a shadow. And everybody is killed by one." Egil's laughter bubbles, this time able to ignore the unnamed shift that he can't explain and return to annoying her instead. "I do not know why you refuse to admit you just are not good at being a menacing warrior, so you need to hide in the trees." he grins at her, hand extending and a finger booping against the tip of her nose. "There is nothing terrifying about you." he adds, unsure why his tone softens and he frowns. "Just annoying."

★・・・・・・★

The more Egil protests in a grumble, the louder Astrid's chuckles grow. Finding pure amusement in being a light-hearted annoyance, and that extends to anybody in her life for that matter. "Oh, you do not!?" she exclaims in a gasp that's both surprised and teasing. "I must have forgotten. Every Jansen to ever live has carried with them a mark of honesty." Astrid snorts, setting down the bread when she's finally done waving it towards Egil's face. Intentionally, her hands hover to his cheek when he mentions their coldness. "Are they? How cold?" she snickers again, trying to send a frost kissed touch to his skin. "How cold are they, Egil?" This teasing has been the way for years, but Astrid is deflecting just as wildly as Egil now is. She has looked at him in a far different way than she ever thought she would. She missed their friendship over the previous years, unaware that seeing him again would invoke such a strong fondness. One that she is not too sure where to place.

"I am either more annoying or you are grumpier. I think I know which." she grins to him softly, finally retracting the fussing of her hands so she can settle as her chuckles linger. A swift roll of her eyes follows after Egil's as if in silent mockery. But she dismisses his undermining with a proud smile about her skill. "I am not afraid. I enjoy the deviousness of nobody ever knowing I was there and then...they die." a content shrug lifts her shoulders, a hint of both her mother and father's brutal ways in combat shining through. Laughter lifts again at Egil's sudden splutter of his drink, Astrid sliding away from him to avoid the spill. "What is happening to you? You cannot chew nor drink today." she laughs at him, studying him briefly with confusion and amusement. "You really are the Jansen babe." she leans then, another attempt to pinch his cheek and annoy him.

Astrid's eyes then brim with an excitement, quickly conjuring potential names for all of them that speak of their personality. "Well, let's see. There would be...Hati the Strong. Skoll is already the Mindbreaker. Vidar would be the Brave. Thorin the Crazed. Loki the Trickster, obviously. And Egil...the Babe." she laughs. "And I, of course, would be Astrid the Death Shadow." she remarks in a prouder tone, making herself straighter and then standing completely so she's taller than him.

[taeescript]

29+1 (Part One)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother. 

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (taehyung x reader if you squint real hard) 

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin (diva!seokjin)

𝔴𝔠: 3.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: heavy use of alcohol as a coping mechanism, a plethora of sarcasm (please don’t be offended) and a sprinkle of softness (is that a warning?). 

𝔞/𝔫: this sat in my unwritten folder since 2017 no lie. I wrote the premise and a singular paragraph at that time, then just gave up. I opened it a few days ago, got inspired again and this word vomit came out (heavily influenced by a midnight Zoom call with my friends). Ngl this was so much fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. This will probably be in three parts.  𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: I did not know that DailyHive is an actual online news source when writing. This work is purely fictional and has absolutely nothing to do with the real DailyHive. 

part two

Your friends have a saying: After 29, nobody shares their age until they’ve accomplished something. 

In the past, you didn’t understand it. What’s so bad about saying you’re 30 or you’re 32? That’s still a young age! Sure, you’re not exactly in your prime anymore but you’re not old, right?

So, you continue in your own wondrous world of naïveté until that fateful day at your class reunion. You had simply been walking around, minding your own business when you had been stopped by an old colleague.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” she waves you down. 

You smile kindly, not even bothering to try and remember her name (you sucked at names, what could you say). 

“Hey…you!” you chuckle lightly, “How have you been doing?” 

An everyday question leading to catastrophic effects. 

“Oh you know,” she says and rolls her eyes as if you truly did know, “I’ve just been out and about. Did I tell you though? I got married last year!” She holds out her hand in which a giant diamond adorns her finger. “Wow!” you gasp, feigning interest. It’s not that you aren’t happy for her, but you are reminded of just how single you are currently. When was the last time you felt another human’s touch? Does kissing come back as easily as riding a bicycle? “Hey!” she says suddenly, “I’m actually meeting with a couple of friends from our class. You should come join! I’m sure they’d be happy to see you again!” You want to wave her off, but against your better judgment, you find yourself following in her footsteps and listening to her speak about wedding venues and honeymoon destinations.

“Oh my god!” another female voice filters in.

The “couple of friends” this old classmate had mentioned is in fact a fairly impressive size of twenty. This is also the third time the wedding announcement has been made. 

“Last year?” the female continues, “Weren’t you young?”

Yes, you want to respond. Yes she was young. A full 365 days younger than she is now.

Your classmate, Sooyoung (or Kiko as she insists going by now) titters in front of you. “I mean, you can sort of say I’m a late bloomer. I got married when I was 31.”

Her words unintentionally cut into you. Here you are at 29 without a beau in sight. You take a fast swig of your beer and end up hitting the empty glass with a clink to your teeth. Nobody notices.

“Enough about me, however, how about you?”

“I started my own business actually. It’s been doing really well and it’s been a crazy mind. Imagine me, my own boss at only 33!”

You nervously join them when they suddenly laugh together.  

“Hi, can I get another pint please? Actually add a tequila shot to that,” you whisper the last part to the waitress you had just stopped.

And that was how the rest of the night went. People asking one another what they had accomplished. Any moment in time after 30 would not be mentioned until somebody travelled to Uganda to build houses at 31 or another gave birth at the same age. Below 30, anything would be attributed to luck or in your case…

“What are you doing currently?” somebody asks you, “The little baby of our class.”

Swallowing your third tequila shot of the night, you wonder for the umpteenth time how you had become a part of this giant sharing circle. You wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse that you had graduated a little early and thus was younger than most of your peers.

“Well,” you start, “I’m currently working at DailyHive.”

“Ohh!” a man gushes. You recognize him as the once-upon-a-time science partner you used to cheat notes off of. “I use DailyHive nearly as much as Instagram these days. You guys cover everything from news to sports to fashion.”

You shrug. “Yeah. It’s, uh… it’s a pretty big company!”

“What are you doing there?”

Kiko-ex-Sooyoung hits the man teasingly on the shoulder. “Y/N is probably the Director of Marketing or something. Remember how she used to spend all class doodling in her notebook?”

“Or sleeping!” someone quips.

You don’t join in when they all laugh.

“I’m…an intern,” you say with as much pride as you can in a group of established professionals ranging from dermatologists to that one guy who had flown around the world as a TedTalk guest speaker.

A hushed silence befalls everyone.

“That’s…cool!” the same man encourages you, “Interns are totally rad! Everyone wants an intern spot these days.”

His girlfriend pats your arm, almost empathetically. “Yeah. I know a bunch of people who first start off as interns and then they shoot up the ladder quick enough. As long as you’re no longer an intern at 30, you’re golden!”

Once again, the entire group laughs as if she has said the most hilarious of jokes.

She composes herself and says to you, “Because after that, you should have accomplished something.”

Her words still ring in your ears as you sit at your desk this morning.

Yeah…something. All you need to do is accomplish something in the next three months before you are officially, 29 + 1.

Your fingers tap against your thighs silently while you observe the current debate that is occurring in the conference room. You barely have time to sweep the falling hair back behind your ear as your fingers ferociously fly across the keyboard to keep in track with the meeting.

Fei is arguing that the implement of a new search word system would boost users while Daniel says that it is a waste of resources. Instead, everything should be put into updating the entire system as a whole. You have long since lost track of their words as neither pertain to what you do as an intern.

“Enough,” the CEO of DailyHive holds up a hand. His one word causes the entire room to hush over – truly, the words of a god.

And that might as well be what he is. With his hair swept back and a lone tendril curling perfectly above his brow, Kim Seokjin is legitimately a walking god. Off his broad shoulders hang an expensive white linen suit bought with his pocket change and your yearly salary. A pair of sunglasses hangs in the V of the collared shirt dipping low enough to blur the lines between being fashionably professional and just downright sexy.

The snap of his fingers brings you back to the present.

He dramatically rolls his eyes and accepts that you are an incompetent minute-taker.  

“I have to remember that the world just doesn’t move as fast as I do.”  

                                                            - Quote: Rolling Stones 2019 Kim Seokjin.

Now if only he’d remember he had once said that.

He points at each of them with one finger, then swipes to the left. “Both of you, solve this outside. I don’t want to hear your voices any longer. You two from the marketing team, Ungroomed Stache and Acne Chin, create me a report if we are to implement Ms. Song’s idea. The two of you from…” he takes a pause here clearly having forgotten who his employees are, “The two of you do the same thing but for Mr. Hwang.”

The pair from accounting open their mouth to protest that they are in charge of only numbers, but they are ignored.

“All of you out now. Except you,” he points his finger directly at you, “Stay.”

Nobody utters a single word until they have all left and you are left alone with him. Standing before him with your hands folded nicely in front of you, you blink and wait.

He stares right back at you, picks up his coffee mug and drops it. The clatter of ceramic smashing against the ground causes a pause in the loud buzz outside the room. You know everybody’s focus has been shifted into the room.

“Do you want to kill me?” he drawls.

You take a long inhale. “No,” you say.

“No?” he repeats the word, “Well I think you do. Did you check this coffee before you brought it to me? I tasted cinnamon in it. You know how I’m allergic to cinnamon. Get me a new cup. And this mess, get somebody to clean it. I don’t want the smell of coffee in this room when I have my next meeting here in twenty. I’m taking a smoke a break.”

He stands up and brushes past you without saying anything else.

Nobody can be allergic to cinnamon. Besides if he had actually tasted cinnamon and was that sensitive, he would be dead. And good riddance to that.

Of course, you say none of this and wordlessly begin to pick up the broken ceramic pieces of the dead mug. The bustling outside the meeting room has returned back to its normal state of chaos. Seeing the ugly stain of coffee on the once pristine carpet causes you to swear beneath your breath.

“Who the fuck is allergic to cinnamon?” a new voice says, sliding up beside you.  

The second god in DailyHive; the much nicer and evidently preferred Kim; Taehyung takes the mug pieces from you and drops it into the garbage bin.

Blessed with not only intelligence but devilishly model-like features, he is your desk buddy in the small space allotted for interns and your sole friend in the company.

“Tae,” you sigh with exasperation upon seeing your lifesaver, “What am I going to do about this stain? He’s going to return in fifteen and there’s no way I can get a coffee stain out of this expensive-ass carpet.”

Taehyung taps a long finger to his lips, leaves the room briefly, and returns with a roll of Bounty sheets and a can of Febreze. He promptly blots as much of the coffee off from the carpet then proceeds to pull the meeting table.

“C’mon, Y/N, don’t just stand there. Help me! Time is of the essence!”

You laugh and join him in moving the table so that one of the legs cover the stain 80% of the way. Once he is satisfied, he takes the Febreze and sprays until the whole room smells like “Hawaiian Aloha”.

“You’re welcome.” He gives an extravagant bow, the motion popping open the top button of his shirt to expose a surprisingly chiseled chest.

Fei returns back into the room holding a phone to her ear and a clipboard in her left hand. “What the hell? It smells like a Bath & Body Works in here. Intern, aren’t you supposed to be filing or something? Stop standing around and be useful.” She grips Taehyung’s arm and drags him out of the room. “Button up. This is a professional workplace.”

You give him a tiny wave as Taehyung is steered away by his girlfriend and back to the cubicles.

Taehyung may be your saviour at work, but outside, it cannot be denied that your brother is the true Fountain of Life.

A week has passed since the coffee incident (you suspect a cleaning personnel had found the stain and cleaned up after your improv as aforementioned stain can no longer be found), but Jimin still brings it up.

“I still can’t believe that he said he was allergic to cinnamon. I’ve never heard of such bullshit before,” your brother says over the phone. You can practically hear his eyeroll from across the world.

As a renowned ophthalmologist, you have not seen Jimin for close to a year as he has been initiating his new clinic, a flying eye hospital.

“You should hear his Starbucks order. I always feel like I’m ready to launch my next EP whenever I’m at the counter,” you say.

Jimin laughs. There is the muffled sounds of voices as his never-ending flow of patients have arrived for the day.

“I shouldn’t keep you,” you say upon hearing that, “You’re probably really busy.”

“No,” he says, “I’ve got a few minutes if you’ve got a few. I miss talking to my baby sister.”

“I’m not a baby anymore, Jiminie,” you say using the nickname he hated.

“Oh that’s right. Your birthday’s in a little under three months, right? My baby sister is turning the big three-oh.”

“God, don’t remind me.”

“Want me to come visit you?”

You contemplate the idea once, having not seen Jimin in quite a while.

“Only if you have time. But I feel like Mom and Dad would probably want to see you more. Speaking of which, um… How are Mom and Dad?”

“They’re good. I hear Dad is finally going to retire this year. He’s giving his practice to Kibum, you remember him? Mom will probably start pestering us about what to do for his retirement party.”

There is a pause.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to them once in a while.”

You sigh. “And say what? Hey, it’s me. The child that ran away from home at 18? Yeah, I’m not a doctor like everybody else in the family but a 29 year old intern at a popular app company. Whassuuup?”

“Y/N, that’s not what I – ”

“It’s okay, Jimin. I’ve come to accept that not everybody is cut out to be a doctor. I just wish Mom and Dad could realize that.”

Jimin sighs on your behalf. There is the sound of a crying child coming through the earphone. “Well, your contract expires a few weeks after your birthday, right? Who knows, you might be the next Mark Zuckerberg.”

He has never explicitly inquired about your life plan and you know this is as much as he is willing to push without asking, “What’s next after this intern hiccup?” At least he had the decency to compare you to a controversial Internet entrepreneur.

The child is crying much louder now.

“Again with my birthday. But I’ll let you know,” is the only reply you can come up with at the moment. “Okay, brother, go forth and heal the blind. I bless thee in the name of the Holy Spirit, Son and Ghost.”

There is true laughter that rings from Jimin as he ends the call. “It’s Father, Son and Holy Ghost you dweeb. I love you sis.”

“You too.” You hang up first before he can add anything else.

With that, you enter into the 7am Starbucks queue and prepare yourself in running the first single of your long overdue EP.

Seokjin leans back in his chair, watching you from inside his office. Today he has chosen a black turtleneck and a brazen maroon-nearly purple suit jacket to complete the outfit. For once, there is an empty mug of coffee beside him and his morning headache has been appeased.

He knew he had given you an impossible task.

“Compile all the troubleshooting errors we have received since the launch of DailyHive. Organize it in a manner that allows me to identify the most prominent problem. Run it through whomever you please before giving it to me. I don’t need to waste my time correcting your mistakes.”

There is an amused smile that bubbles beneath his otherwise stoic features. He cannot deny that there is, might he dare say, a cute quality about you as you manually scan through the received concerns on your laptop dating back to the initial beta tests – the ones that were lost in a data crash and only backed up with unintelligible scribblings of previous interns.

The moment you had been introduced as the new intern, you had caught his eye. You are exquisitely mundane, and perhaps the reason you had even caught him the first time was due to solely to the fact that you were older than most interns – himself even. Nevertheless, you continue to present him small surprises in your tenacity and capability to tackle challenges.

“Mr. Kim.”

His intercom comes alive with the voice of his secretary.

Seokjin’s eyes do not leave you as he answers.

“Mr. Hwang is on line two. Would you like me to defer him to a later time if you are currently busy?”

Seokjin cannot help but sigh. Hwang Junho, his co-founder, while a genius in international business is also a notorious chatterbox and gossip. There is seldom a reason for Junho to call him except to relay the cover titles of E!Magazine.

“Did he mention a reason for calling?” Seokjin inquires.

His secretary seems to be reading from a note. “He says it’s to do with the company. Something he read from Cosmopolitan this morning.”

So not E! but another sister celebrity gossip blog. He checks his watch and duly notes that he certainly has no meetings scheduled until later in the afternoon where your report would be needed to run a preliminary analysis.

“Sir?”

“Yes, put him through. But tell him I’ve got only five minutes, so he’s better give me the Cliffnotes version,” Seokjin sighs again.

Before he can be connected, Seokjin quickly says, “What’s the name of that intern again?”

“Who?” his secretary asks, “We’ve hired four since the beginning of the year.”

“The one who keeps wanting to poison me.”

“I’m sorry, Sir?” she sounds concerned.

“The one who keeps forgetting that I despise cinnamon.”

There is no response.

“The older one. Spilled coffee a while ago but still has enough coordination to pull together a decent report.”

“Ah,” she says.

He waits patiently as she searches through the database, eventually giving him your name. He gives a slight pause and then says, “Good. Now patch me with Junho.”

There is a momentary buzz as the call becomes connected in which Seokjin turns over the syllables of your name wordlessly.

“Mr. Kim. The man of the hour. How are you, my brother?” Junho’s baritone fills the office in a manner of seconds.

Despite the little annoying quirks, Seokjin cannot help but smile when hearing the voice of his best friend.

“You’ve got three minutes, Junho.”

Junho grumbles. “That’s not my fault. You were the one still on the line with your secretary. Is it still Yerin? ‘Cuz I won’t blame you if that’s the case. Did I catch you doing some naughty phone sex during office hours?”

“Two.”

“Holy hell. Fine. It’s always business with you. That’s why the tabloids are always writing you as an uptight asshole.”

This shifts Seokjin’s attention to the phone. His name is seldomly mentioned except for the features in business columns. He prefers to stay out of the limelight.

“What?”

“Put your name on Google.”

Seokjin does as he is told.

There are millions of results, but the first few pages share the same headline. He clicks on the first one with a grimace.

“Kim Seokjin. Mr. Worldwide Handsome as noted by his fans, has recently sparked Internet outrage.”

A quick skim of the otherwise trashy article brought to the surface a summary: his last dating scandal had ended badly and the repercussions of blowing off a famous celebrity’s daughter had finally caught up with him. The Internet was calling him arrogant, narrow-minded, and even greedy. “The young Chief Executive Officer of booming social media app DailyHive has been accused of using his relationship with actress XYZ to further his own business. Once he gained recognition from aforementioned relationship, he has cold-heartedly cast her away to pursue his next.” “You’re calling me for this bullshit?” Seokjin scoffs. Junho tuts his tongue loudly. “This is not bullshit. It’s affecting the image of your company. Do you think people want to download and support an app that is run by somebody who is being called cruel and dishonest? You’ve got to address this soon before it gets out of control. You’re lucky I have alerts set for these type of things. I caught it for you just in the nick of time.” Seokjin inhales deeply. “You’re also lucky that I’ve got the perfect solution in mind.” “That is?” “The Silver Gala,” Junho references the prestigious event. The Silver Gala is hosted annually and attended by the largest celebrities as well as other wealthy investors and guests. Those in the social circle shared between Seokjin and Junho often yearned for tickets to attend events such as this, as they serve as excellent networking opportunities. Besides the above, such events are circled by reporters and writers of gossip columns to get the exclusive scoop on any eyebrow-raising rumours. “The solution lies in such an event,” Junho continues, “You know how many people will be there. All you’ve got to do is show up with your average girl-next-door type and it’ll show how you’re actually really humble and down to earth. Kim Seokjin is perfectly capable of dating like any regular human being. He doesn’t use “love” or whatever to further his business. Love is the connection between two souls; two individuals who – ” “Beep. Your time has run out Junho. I’ve got another meeting scheduled right this moment,” Seokjin interrupts. “Dude, seriously. Think about it. You could bring Yerin. Everbody loves a good CEO and his secretary affair. And if that’s too juicy for you, I can introduce you to some girls. Or maybe we could go back to our university days and hit a bar, y’know?” Junho tries his best to persuade. “Fuck!” you swear beneath your breath right as you walk into Kim Seokjin’s office. His door had been open and, in your excitement to show your completed report, you had dropped all the loose papers on the ground. Four hours of organization gone, just like that. You hope that at least Seokjin hasn’t heard or noticed you as he had been engrossed in his phone call. Seokjin had in fact noticed you. He can’t help himself but follow the curvature of your bare shoulder as your bangs escape the hold of your scrunchie and sweep across your skin. “Don’t worry, Junho, I’ve just thought about it,” he says with a smile.

[hanibalistic]

#FFD500 | PARK JISUNG.

genre | fluff, meet cute au, strangers au

word count | 1781

warning | smoking ​

with suit and tie, styled hair, minimal makeup, and a heavy name on his back, jisung realized he could not do it. he could not bring himself to enter the main scene of high school prom.

nervous sweat drenched his hands and he hastily wiped away at the side of his hips. the blinking neon lights coming through the small windows of the assembly hall doors, and the loud blasty music that belonged to none other than his very own idol group made him feel isolated in this dark, empty school hallway he has barely walked across since he got accepted into the school.

there was no point in this. there was no point in attending. donghyuck had encouraged him the most when he was debating whether he wanted to go to prom; he said it could help with blowing off some steam, and there might even be a possibility of meeting someone eccentric, like how he did when he decided to attend prom two years back. jisung had believed him, and now he realized he should not have.

he barely attended school because of his conflicting schedule as a worldwide idol. logically speaking, he shouldn't even be allowed to graduate with the number of absences in his record, but he did so with flying colors anyway. he was everyone's friend and he has no friends; there would be no one to talk to inside, and the clear superiority in accomplishment he held might make things embarrassing and awkward for him.

he understood why donghyuck would deem his experience at his prom great. it was because he knew how to talk, he knew how to charm, and he was never shy around people. jisung believed his story when he talked about the student he frantically danced with under artificial lights. for donghyuck, having met someone eccentric was merely a fortunate coincidence, if not a miracle that he met someone exactly like him.

jisung was nothing like that. he knew he was nothing like that. dealing with strangers, let alone the mysteriously off ones, was never his forte. he would just make a fool of himself, he would not be having a good time.

going to prom was a bad idea. he should leave.

"jesus–watch it!"

"ah..." his voice dimmed as he immediately turned toward the direction of where the explosive voice came from. his hurrying steps halted to a stumble before a stop, and he eyed you up and down carefully before he dipped his head. "sorry... i–i didn't mean to scare you."

"i wasn't scared, just startled," you retorted quickly, but your voice was much calmer than your initial snap. tapping the lit cigarette in your hand lightly with your index finger, you mumbled as you eyed him with mild curiosity after your angry brows faded, "you came out in a hurry. forgot you had an award show to attend to, hmm?"

"oh–no, it's not that–" jisung paused abruptly, he wasn't sure why. when you raised a brow at him, almost impatiently it seemed, he gulped down a nervous knot and scratched the back of his head. "sorry, i just.. i didn't think you would know me."

you blinked at him as you swiped your tongue against your teeth, clicking with what jisung could not tell was menace or disinterest. either way, they were both bad. taking a short puff of the cigarette, you exhaled a cloud of smoke before you mused, "who said i know you, park jisung?"

he gulped, visibly distraught and confused.

"you just said–"

"i just what?"

he gulped again when his meek sentence was cut off so quickly. not even his brothers have interrupted him like this before, at least not with the genuine intention to anyway. it seemed that at this moment, he further came to the realization just how well he was taken care of by everyone around him, because could such a simple jab to a social interaction cause him such anxiety if he was used to it?

(he was glad he wasn't used to it.)

"what is a hotshot like you doing here anyway?" you fired the sudden question, looking to him with intrigue.

you were never one to engage in idol activities. you weren't even in this school to become an artist; you were forced here by your parents who stood somewhere in the industry. one day they realized you had the voice and the range to deserve the spotlight, and here you were stuck in those shit-ugly, overdue-banana-colored uniforms, trying to be a star you didn't want to be.

but jisung—you knew jisung. everybody knew jisung. your classmates, the teachers, that random american tourist who asked you for directions in the street, that kpop warrior online who kept screenshots of netizen articles and translating them out of context. everybody knew jisung, but very few knew him enough.

you didn't care much for him, but your curiosity just had to be fulfilled now that you were seeing him in person. what was he doing here, in a suit and sweating through his hair? did he always talked this shyly or was it your typical idol persona act? were you scaring him and should you do it even more to purposefully leave a bad impression?

your stare was confronting in this silence. granted, it was his turn to speak, so he was at blame for your lingering gaze on him. "i thought... i thought maybe i could go to prom," he finally replied quietly.

you hummed in acknowledgment, then you tilted your head. you looked behind your shoulder into the school, your eyes briefly grazing past the colorful doors that were the entrance to literal teenage hell, and you jabbed your thumb toward the direction. "prom is that way, though, dumbo."

"i know that," jisung said, embarrassed. "i just... i don't have friends."

you laughed, and once again jisung couldn't tell if you were genuinely amused or it was a response of mockery. inhaling carefully, you longing exhaled the smoke as your dazed eyes looked past him, with a smile so vague it seemed unnatural.

"what are you talking about? you've got friends. you got friends everywhere!"

"i... i don't?"

"sure you do!" you exclaimed boldly as you stretched your arms out to the sky, eyes ablaze at the stars above. "they are everywhere for you, jisung. you got friends everywhere because everyone wants to be your friend. you have options, you are just not taking them!"

"but they're not–" he licked his lower lip nervously, feeling a sense of sorrow cast over him upon the teenage loneliness he gained in trade for his success. "they're not real friends."

you paused.

real friends?

you paused; motions stopped, arms empty without strength, and eyes hallow with confused questioning. you stared at jisung as if he was a foreign creature who had said something absurd, so absurd you had to decide whether you wanted to ridicule him or interrogate him first.

what are real friends, anyway?

people who love you but do nothing about it, people who say they love you but do not, people who act upon loving you but do not? people who leave you alone at a bad time because you asked them to, people who would not leave you alone at a bad time even if you asked them to, people who knew how to juggle in between? people who comfort you because they understood you, people who advise because they could not understand you, people who try to relate to you because it was what they knew to be comfortable?

which one of those was real? were any of them fake simply because you didn't like it? when did you get crowned the decision-maker?

what are real friends, anyway? why does it matter, anyway?

why does truth matter if the lies treat you so well?

when you made up your mind to do both, you began to move fluidly again. your lips opened to breathe, and you chuckled sardonically at his naivety.

"what do you need the realness for? lies are lies only if it bothers you, essentially meaning you don't really need the absence of lies," you said. "who cares about real friends, you just need friends. don't you think you are expecting too much from humanity?"

there was sympathy in jisung that he did not know had risen. the basis of the situation, of why you came to the conclusion that people were less than gentle and kind, he knew nothing of but he was sorry for. whether something has happened in your life, or if you simply grew to be cynical, the lack of tiny joys in life must be a terrible feast.

he also knew he hasn't the energy and wit to argue himself to victory; his humanism, the desire to prove that people are good because his people have been good, would not be enough to shake you.

"shouldn't you stop smoking?" he asked, promptly changing the subject.

you removed the cigarette from your mouth, brows furrowed in annoyance now that the attention was directed toward you. you exhaled the smoke slowly from your throat, and you tilted your head up to the sky where you gently said, "maybe not. i just can't seem to die."

your god-given voice just wouldn't let off.

"do you plan to go back in after then? smelling like smoke?" he asked.

"don't mock me boy." you grinned with a glare hanging off the corner of your mouth. "and no, i am not going back in. i don't have friends, but unlike you, i just don't have friends because i am a raging asshole."

jisung finally breathed out a giggle, but it was abruptly short. he covered his mouth and lowered his head, only peeking up at you occasionally. "well, if it's any consolation, i don't think you're all that bad."

your eyes fluttered as you silently tapped your cigarette. he was just as you expected but a little more. you could understand why people like him so much now; his innocence wasn’t a drag, it was a charm. 

you gave him a silent but thankful smile before you looked away. "yeah. thanks."

jisung thought you looked less angry now; eyes at the stars, wishful and longing to be above. the blush that blossomed on his cheeks remained despite the faded nervousness, maybe it was because he felt a fondness toward you he usually wouldn't toward the people he spend his time around; you were a classmate, someone his age, someone who could understand him if allowed.

an eccentric stranger that donghyuck suspected he might meet.

maybe it was a good idea that he never went to prom.

[donutloverxo]

Vanilla

Kinktober day 21 - Vanilla

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - @stargazingfangirl18 asked for soft ransom! Thanks @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @whateveriwant for their advice! Also for @finleyjayne 's rainbow writing challenge with the prompt 'white lie'. Hope y'all like it💖

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - When you find out Ransom's been lying, you can't help but assume the worst.

Warnings - 18+ only please!, smut (m/f), ooc Ransom.

Pairing - Ransom Drysdale x reader

Word count - 2k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You sighed as a tear rolled down your cheek, looking at an old photo strip of you and Ransom. You had taken it in a photo booth at the fall fair, he was reluctant, calling them dumb and cheesy but he gave in when you gave him your puppy eyes.

He looked stoic in the first two, with you perched up on his lap, your arms around his neck but then he was laughing boisterously because you started tickling you. The last one was of him biting your neck as revenge.

Happy times. But they seem to be taunting you now.

Your family, even your friends, weren’t huge fans of Ransom. Your mother was actually scared he’d hit you or hurt you. But they didn’t know him like you did.

He was never cruel to you. Not even when he didn’t know you and had nothing to gain from being nice to you. Surprisingly, he was quite the gentlemen, holding the door for you, paying for your meals, even waiting for over a month before making love - you knew then you could never let go of him, no one would ever give it to you like him.

He did tend to be a bit judgmental and cynical, entitled and maybe a bit spoilt. But you accepted that as a part of him, encouraging him to work on himself. Sure, he’ll never be everyone's cup of tea, but he’d always be yours.

Or so you thought.

Dealing with Ransom required some finesse and patience that you were willing to put up because it was worth it. But you’d never put up with lies, or worse... that’s not who you were.

Ransom had told you he was going to meet up with his published to talk about his new project. Your gut told you that something was wrong. When he was late you took it upon yourself to call the publishing house only to find out he didn’t have a meeting today at all.

He didn’t have one that Sunday either, where he was for over four hours you didn’t know.

You let out a humorless chuckle at your own naiveté - who the fuck has a meeting on the weekend anyway?

You only saw what your heart wanted to show you. Maybe, he never loved you. Maybe everything you both shared for the past two years was a lie - an act.

You yelped a bit when you heard the door being slammed shut, putting the photo down you quickly composed yourself.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted you, kissing the top of your head before scavenging for a beer in your fridge.

“Hey,” your voice hoarse and croaky, you cleared your throat, “how was your meeting?” you spat. Unable to keep the contempt from your voice.

“So and so. They don’t know shit,” he twisted the cap off before he taking a long drag of it.

You gulped when you looked at his pale throat bobbing and swallowing the liquid down. He took his coat off, throwing it over the counter.

You watched his muscles flex under his tight sweater, his curious eyes watching you, your traitorous body still found him attractive. Which he was, objectively so, some might even argue that he was out of your league and not the other way around.

“Like what you see, doll?” he smirked, catching you staring at him. He stood before you, holding onto your hips.

You blinked, pushing him away and putting some distance between you, “I want to know more about the meeting.” you insisted.

“What the hell are you going on about?” He ran a hand through his perfectly groomed hair - messing it up. You knew it was a nervous tick of his.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about! You weren’t at any meeting were you? You were probably with some bitch,” you yelled, jabbing him in his chest with your finger, “No,” you laughed, “Wasn’t her fault. She’s not the one cheating. I should’ve known better.” you shook your head, “Everybody warned me.”

He had the audacity to roll his eyes, “God, you women - ”

“Shut the fuck up, Ransom. Now is not the time for your boring jokes. Where were you?”

“Why would you jump to the worse conclusion?!” he yelled back, his face turning red and a couple of veins popping on his forehead. “Do I not get benefit the doubt? Don’t you trust me?”

He walked towards you, making you take a few steps back until you hit the counter, tall and imposing above you. His jaw clenched shut as he stared you down.

You gulped, “I did trust you. But what explanation could you possibly have? You lied, didn’t you? Where were you?”

You watched him as he dug through his discarded coat, taking out a box and handing it to you. You knew what it was as soon as you saw it, the familiar burgundy color with the words ‘cartier’ written on top in golden cursive.

“I’m sorry,” you choked, your heart clenched in guilt. You accused him of the worst when he was just out getting you jewellery. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m sorry.”

“Bit to late to be sorry when you already said your part.” he gritted.

“Sorry,” you gave him a nervous smile, “I really don’t deserve this, I don’t know what to say...”

“I was with Meg, since she’s the only girl I know, who’d be of any use. She just gave a lecture about how buying diamonds is so unethical or something, I don’t know I tuned out,” he shuddered at just the thought of it, “So, it’s not final. We can exchange it if you don’t like it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

You frowned, “Why would I need to exchange it? I’m sure it’s very pretty,” you opened the box and gasped, your jaw dropping, “Ransom... this is...” the most beautiful diamond ring you’ve ever seen. “Wait a minute, does that mean..”

“Yep,” he snatched it away from you, taking the ring out of it and then sliding it on your ring finger, “I was going to go the whole nine yards. Get down on a knee, act like a fucking Disney Prince but you don’t get that now,” he smirked, the diamond looking so pretty on your hand. “You’re stuck with me, forever.”

“Well, I’m sad that I missed out on a proper proposal but I suppose I deserve it. It really is so pretty,” you beamed at the ring.

“Don’t you dare take it off.” He held onto your hand possessively. Glad to have some sort of claim on you now that would let any unworthy asshole know that you’re taken.

You giggled, placing a quick smooch on his lips, “I won’t. I’ll protect it with my life,” holding the hand close to your heart. “I’m still so sorry. I should’ve known better.”

“That’s right, you should’ve.” he grumbled

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He’d have no problem assuming the worst if the roles were reversed. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” Jutting your lower lip out and looking at him with your big doe eyes.

Pulling you by your waist and holding you tightly against him, “I can think of a couple of things, pumpkin.”

He captured your lips in a salacious kiss that was all teeth and tongue, running his thumb over the diamond.

***

“Look so pretty with your mouth stuffed, pumpkin,” he praised, choking on a moan, pushing your hot, eager mouth further down on his length.

You let out a muffled whimper, relaxing your throat so you could take all of him. Which was quite a task but you powered through, swallowing him down until your nose touched the brown patch of hair above his length.

He let out a loud, primal moan, holding onto your head and trying his best not to bust his load too soon. He pulled you off of him, getting off of the mattress, putting his hands below your arms and hauling you up and pushing you down on it. It was always fun to manhandle you like that, what with you being so small and plaint. Always ready to serve him and let him have his way with you.

You blinked up at him with unsure eyes, almost wanting to cover yourself from his predatory gaze. “St - stop looking at me like that.”

He chuckled, “You’re mine now. I’ll look at you however I like.”

He knelt on the floor, pulling you till you were on the edge of the bed, nudging your intimate lips apart with his nose. He took a long breath in, your unique scent never failed to make him hot.

Placing a flurry of kisses up and down your inner thighs, giving your a nick and a bite here and there till you were going crazy with need. Need to have his mouth on you.

“Please, Ransom,” you sniffled exaggeratedly, “Just want your mouth on me.”

“You’ve got no patience, doll.” Which was rich, coming from him.

He shook his head, teasing your entrance with his tongue. Before finally, wrapping his mouth around your bundle of nerves, sucking at it leisurely.

You pulled at his hair, pushing him closer to your heat because you needed more.

He took the hint, plunging two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out till he felt you clamping down on them. He pulled right away when he felt you getting too close to your climax.

No, he needed to look at your face as you fell apart with him.

Ignoring your whines and curses he hovered above you, pushing his tip against your entrance, coating it with your juices.

You were out of it, barely there with him, your hands loosely holding onto his broad shoulders, “I love you,” you murmured and then yelped, your eyes scrunched shut as he thursted his entire length inside you. Your nails digging into his biceps and drawing blood.

There was that delicious familiar ache at first, but you willed yourself to ride through it. It’ll feel good in no time. Except.... he didn’t move.

You opened your eyes and looked up at him to see him staring at you. You called out his name, caressing his cheek.

“Say it again,” he panted.

“Say what?” you yelped again as he lifted your hips up, his tip brushing against your spongy spot, “Oh.. uh... I love you.” you repeated.

He stayed still for a moment or longer. Still not used to hearing those words, especially said so sincerely by you. They often caught him off guard and overwhelmed him.

His hips bucked into yours as he started thrusting into you properly, his fingers digging into your hips.

You pulled him down and pressed your lips to his, swirling your tongue against his, spilling your moans in his mouths, only pulling away when you could barely breath. He did have a way of always leaving you breathless.

Propping himself on his elbows, he watched you writhe under him, your face scrunching up in untethered pleasure as you kept asking him for more. It's where you belonged, wrapped up around him. And your cavern was his rightful place, especially now that you'll be married.

“You’ve always been a, tight little thing. Squeezing the shit outta me,” he grunted as you pulsed and fluttered around him your body seized up and fell back.

He kept driving his hips into you, riding out your orgasm till ropes of his seed coated your walls, he didn’t let up till he was sure he gave you every last drop of him.

He collapsed on top of you, nipping at the shell of your ear, “Again,” he pleaded, his voice wavering with his cock softening inside you.

“I love you, baby, more than you’ll ever know,” you said, cradling his head close to you.

He hummed, pulling himself out of you, laying beside you, he admired your ring as you struggled to stay away, your eyes already dozing off.

He was proud to have bought it with his own hard earned money with the book you inspired him to write, it was sort of poetic in a way. But you didn’t need to know that or you’d accuse him of going soft for you - which to be fair he was. As his mother always says every marriage has its secrets.

Tags will be in the reblog!

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

[melisa-may-taylor72]

Record Mirror- 08-25-1984

Ministry Of Works

Did you know that Freddie Mercury wants to make a reggae record? And that Roger Taylor would be selling flowers if he wasn't in Queen? Read on for more fascinating facts

MAYHEM IN Munich! Freddie Mercury is cavorting with a scantily dressed transvestite and it's only three in the afternoon. Are you man or woman enough to read on? Then swallow your vitamin pills and follow me.

Queen are limbering up for their forthcoming tour in Germany and to celebrate another single rising majestically up the charts, they're holding a little press bash in Munich's P1 club. A place even more decadent than the South Finchley Whiskey A Go Go.

The ghost of Adolf Hitler probably wanders around here on dark nights, as The Fuhrer used to store his paintings and other plunder in the club and the building next door. Unfortunately there's nothing left around today.

Instead, the club has gems of another kind. A selection of Queen's videos including the notorious 'Body Language' — and champagne and wine flowing like Niagara Falls.

The cabaret is Freddie's own idea: a group of well passed it drag artists, so outrageous in G strings and lingerie that they make Divine seem as tame as Marjorie Proops. Freddie's more than willing to join in when one of the girls does a rendition of 'I Want To Break Free', but the rest of the members of Queen look on shyly from the comforts of the bar. Everybody, but everybody is here to witness the event, including a film crew from the US air force, tramping around in full combat gear making a nuisance of themselves.

Freddie's doing well considering he's in quite a lot of pain. He remains tight lipped about the full details but he injured his leg after an incident in a club. A physiotherapist has been pummelling at it nearly every day.

"This c+ + + kicked me," says Fred. "I'm hoping my knee will be ready in time for the tour, but it's still giving me a lot of trouble. It might mean I will have to cut down on some of my more elaborate gorgeous stage moves."

FRED'S ALSO been hobbling around a Munich recording studio putting the finishing touches to his first ever solo album which should be out in January. Gadzooks, could this be the start of a split with Queen? Is it true Limahl's going to take over?

"Not at all. I've wanted to do a solo album for a long time and the rest of the band have encouraged me to do it. Some of them are even featured doing a few bits and pieces to help me out.

"There are a lot of musical territories I wanted to explore, which I couldn't really do with Queen. I wanted to cover such things as reggae rhythms and I've done a couple of tracks with a symphony orchestra. It will have a very rich sound."

Fred's also done some work with Michael Jackson, but he still doesn't know when this is going to see the light of day. They've done a selection of tracks together in Michael's home studio. For a while, Fred was even in the running to do 'State Of Shock'.

"I was out of town at the time so Mick did it instead," he says. "I don't mind at all. I'd like to release something with Michael because he is a really marvellous person to work with. It's all a question of time because we never seem to be together at the right time. Just think, I could have been on 'Thriller'. Think of the royalties I've missed out on.

"Michael has been a friend of ours for a long time. He's been to our shows and enjoyed them. We make a great team."

One of Fred's songs 'Love Kills', is being used on the soundtrack of the reactivated 'Metropolis' film and he hopes to make a 20 minute video using four or five of his own songs.Freddie and all the members of Queen have a long standing appreciation of 'Metropolis', which originally came out in 1927. Their stage set, in the shape of a futuristic city, has been inspired by it.The lighting rig measures 74ft by 50ft and the original design was so heavy they had to change it because it was in danger of bringing theatre roofs down. What a way to go, crushed by your own equipment.

AFTER THE European tour. Queen will be taking the whole shebang down to South America, headlining a 10 day festival in Rio. The place they will be playing is an amphitheatre down by the sea that can seat 300,000 people a night. It all makes Castle Donington seem like just another night at the Marquee. A local radio station in Rio held a survey to see who the most popular bands were and then some local promoters went out and booked them for the extravaganza. Naturally, Queen came out top.

Queen will also be doing some shows in South Africa. This is more than just a little bit controversial. Especially with the memory of Nelson Mandela still very warm.

"We've thought about the morals of it a lot and it's something we've decided to do," says Brian May. "This band is not political, we are not out to make statements, we play to entertain anybody who comes to listen. The show will be in Botswana in front of a mixed audience."

The band wanted to play Russia but the authorities objected. This situation might change now though, considering that Iron Maiden have been let into Poland to wreak havoc. *

"The Russians still think we're very decadent," confides Roger Taylor. "We want to play China as well, and Korea. John and I spent a holiday in Korea and it's a fascinating place. They're finishing work on the Olympic stadium for the next games!

Perhaps the Ruskies heard about Roger's high living on Ibiza. He's bought a house there and enjoys powerboat racing. Play time is over for the time being, though. After their two year break. Queen have been working more than 12 hours a day rehearsing.

"It's strange how rusty we are, and so we're trying to blow the cobwebs away," continues Roger. "It's taking a lot of work. Usually we rehearse until about nine and then we eat together and decide what we're going to do in the evenings. The clubs here are really fun. Something to cater for every taste or perversion.

"On the tour we'll be playing a lot of the old material and we'll be giving the audience what they want. A lot of the music I hear in the charts today doesn't interest me. I just can't see how anybody can get excited over Spandau Ballet. It doesn't send shivers up my spine. I like listening to Bruce Springsteen."

They might be old stagers, but Roger claims that tickets for Queen's British shows sold oul in three hours flat and they could have easily played another 12 nights here.

"We still have the rock and roil gypsy mentality," he says. "Even after 12 years without a line-up change we still really enjoy the buzz from playing live and the fact that we have hit singles. Some bands in our position might take it all in their stride, but we're still like kids, we get very excited.

"You've got to have a laugh haven't you? If Queen wasn't any fun, then I'd jack it all in and go and sell flowers."

Robin Smith

@natromanxoff, @mephisto92, @moviestorian, @x5vale, @39-brian, @onegoldenglance, @crosmopolitan, @an-abyss-called-life, @his-majesty-king-mercury, @i-live-for-queen, @brian-39-may, @toomuchlove-willkillyou, @brimaymay, @sail-away-sweet-sister, @drummerqueenrmt, @old-fashioned-roger-boy, @briianmaay, @inui-mycroft, @deacytits, @iminlovewithrogscar, @drowseoftaylor, @brianmayislongaway, @balticlover, @astrophysicist-guitar-god, @miez-lakatz, @brianmayoucease, @jesus-in-a-life-boat, @aslongasthereismusic, @silapril, @sherrifanciesfriskyfreddie, @tenderbri, @brianmydear, @thosequeenboys, @millionairewaltz-carpediem, @painandpleasure86, @bribrifrenchfry, @xlucylennonx, @a-night-at-the-abbey-road, @inthedayswhenlandswerefew, @madformeddowstaylor, @queenrogertaylorfan, @let-roger-get-a-lunch, @queen-for-life, @rethought, @drivenbybrianmay @mymakeupmaybeflaking, @old-but-still-a-child, @let-roger-get-a-lunch, @warriorteam1924, @funnydressesweirdhairanddance,  @thefanhuman13, @yourtieddownmother, @hgmercury39, @brimi-stardust, @thefairyfellermercury,  @sailawaysweetbrimi, @sophiaintheskywithdiamonds, @holybrianmaywritingbear, @lydiannode, @39-yellow-daffodils , @ure-gonna-loveme-when-u-seeme, @kaykaybeachgirl, @foxmonkey, @deakysgurl, @redspecialandclogsandcurls, @briansrainbowsocks-deactivated2, @delilahmay39, @ohmybribri, @bless-the-queen, @everythingaboutfreddie, @doitforthevine67, @recordsoftheseventies, @rhysjoejoshtomfarisblog, @tenementfunsterwithpurpleshoes, @drummah-in-a-rocknroll-band, @beatlegirl1968, @maylorsqueen, @autumnscenemcyt, @gralto, @alittlepeoplemagic, @rainbowsockbrian, @frejudy, @drivenbybrimay, @yourlocalmusicalprostitute, @saik-ava, @omb-xx, @sassymaylor, @somekindofroger, @starlightmay, @freddiemercuryismylife, @sunshine112, @chrysochromulina, @glitteryloveravenue, @deakyislife51, @0-primejive-0, @just-a-skinny-lad, @bluewillowmom, @sassiesillie, @stesichoreanpalinode, @mrfahrenheitmercury @tayloredofqueen, @0-my-fairy-queen-0, @scandalacious @izzy-is-slightly-mad @39-volunteers-to-space  @zodiacaldust, @deakytaylor, @queenband70s, @deakyeveryday, @drivenbybrimay, @70smay, @brianharoldmay39, @everybandsnotqueen, @johns-diqi  @oneandthreeseventh

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

WATCH THIS FIRST TRUST ME: Taylor Tomlinson On Growing Up Religious & Abstinent | CONAN on TBS.

Five, trying to explain to Lila why joining their family is a terrible mistake that she will surely regret for the rest of her life no matter how similar she may be to them in spirit: I love my siblings, because I am an adult, I’m a grown-up, yeah -

Five: My siblings, grown-up men and women, say things like

Five: “UGH. I hate my brother.” And I’m like

Five: What are you, four? (The age, not the number, we all know Klaus loves all of us, we’re not idiots.) (Well, mostly.) Nobody got enough hugs, hug yourself, walk it off.

Five: People who hate their families have unrealistic standards; they think families are made up of these superior beings, and they’re not!

Five: They’re just people, who suck, like the rest of us! That’s how we should introduce them, just like

Five: “These are my people! Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus, Ben, and Vanya! They do what they can.”

Five: Set the bar low. Have you realized that your family messed you up yet?

Five: Yeah, you find a strange dent in the back of your head, you’re like

Five: “What happened there?” They’re like

Five: “We did our best, that’s what happened there. You were slippery, so.”

Five: You ever have this happen to you as an adult, where you realize your family messed you up based on how other people react when you tell them stories about your childhood?

Five: Stories you thought were fine, cause when you’re a kid you’re stupid?

Five: You’re just like, *does a stupid little dance* “Everybody gets tied in the yard!” Like, you don’t know!

Five: Fast forward ten years you’re at a barbeque, everyone’s goin’ around swappin’ stories like

Five: “Oh my god, my mom was crazy. She used to make us take our shoes off in the house!”

Five: And you’re like, *fake high-pitched laugh* “I know! We wore muzzles at night!”

Five: *keeps laughing hysterically* What happened, why’d everyone get sad? What is it?

Five: *completely serious once again* My siblings are cool. My dad, not so much.

Five: My dad’s very conservative, he still thinks gay people shouldn’t be allowed to get married, which

Five: You’re gonna be real disappointed, buddy, cause all a your kids are gay. Seriously. Allison and Luther are datin’ Ray, Vanya’s got a girlfriend named Sissy - okay well you’d love her name I’ll say that much - Diego and Ben are both mooning after Klaus and Klaus is, well, Klaus. Plus there’s me, and I don’t feel any a that cause I’m lucky, and also I’m not your perfect little girl Dad, never was because I’M A BOY anyway back to the matter at hand

Five: I don’t know, you ever hear older people say stuff and you’re like

Five: “Oh, someone missed a software update!” Like that’s not, can’t just say that anymore.

Five: *spacing out* Out loud.

Five: We’re in a Target. Be quiet.

Five: *back to full-blown peppiness*

Five: It’s crazy! He tortured all of us for eighteen years, and the whole time, he was like

Five: *creepy old man voice* “Homosexuality is a sin.”

Five: And we’re like

Five: “Without homosexuality, you would not have a job. Us sparkly teens put food on your table, don’t bite the jazz hand that feeds you.”

Five: Growing up, he encouraged us to abstain from drugs, and alcohol, and sex, and enjoyment, and we really took all of that to heart, uh.

Five: I mean, Klaus is a recovering addict, Diego smokes weed to sleep, Ben is dead and therefore does whatever the fuck he wants, I’ve drunk more alcohol than there is on the whole ass earth and I know that because I drank every bottle I ever came across in the apocalypse, Allison and Vanya both smoke, I don’t know why, really only Luther followed all the rules and then he got all depressed because Dad sent him to the moon or whatever so now he’s all fucked up too, anyway -

Five: But it’s so easy to mess kids up, I have a lot of respect for my mother - not my father, he was a piece of shit - even babysitting -

Five: I just babysat my siblings, I was so nervous about it, I’m like

Five: “I don’t wanna mess these kids up. (Well, more than they already are.)”

Five: So I’m just gonna do everything myself, and I’m not gonna talk to them.

Five: And everything’ll be fine.

Five: So I go off to do my thing. My siblings, they’re idiots, adorable, they come running after me five minutes after I show up and go

Five: “Hey Five, what was the apocalypse like?”

Five: What? How do I explain severe isolation, desperation, desolation, depression, and survivalist coping mechanisms including assassination and imaginary friends to these children?

Five: How I even begin to explain the pain of loss and loneliness and the helpless hopelessness of knowing you will always be alone and that there’s nothing you can do about it?

Five: It’s complicated! I time-travelled, they died, I was sad, like, whatever, you get it.

Five: But I wanted to be honest, so I thought about it carefully, like

Five: What was the apocalypse like that’s similar to something they’ve done? Like, okay

Five: “Do you remember when you got lost at the grocery store? That was scary, right? But then do you remember the feeling you got when you finally found one of us? How safe and happy and relieved you were? And how you ran up to whoever you found and you grabbed their arm and then you looked up and it wasn’t one of us?”

Five: *takes a sip of scotch* Yeah. Not my best moment. They wouldn’t let me sleep alone that night, all cuddled up around me like a bunch a octopuses. Fuckin’ annoying.

Five: *waves a dismissive hand* Anyway. I love them. You still wanna join the family?

Lila:

Lila:

Lila:

Lila: *slowly shakes her head*

Five: *grins*

Five: Yeah, that’s what I thought. Thanks for killing your mom for us though!

Five, teleporting away: Bye!

Lila:

Lila:

Lila:

The Handler’s ghost: You need to get better taste in men.

[catzula]

Confessions.

A\N: is this self-indulgent? Yes, yes it is. And did I cry writing this? Positive. Okay, the thing is, this is something I've been wanting to publish for so long, but I didn't have the courage to do so. But recently, I told someone about the whole ordeal and the reaction I got was so different than I expected, so I thought why not write this? Even if one person sees it and relates, or maybe even encourages them to talk to anyone about it, (even if you don't have anybody please I beg you come to me I'll always listen to anything you want to say), I would be so happy. Please don't think this is because I'm trying to get sympathy points, it's not. I don't want anything like that, just to actually help anyone who was in my situation. This fic (rant more like it) isn't fully based on my situation, mine is different, but I didn't feel comfortable talking about that, oh and this isn't edited, I didn't really want to read it over and over again so idk. So, anyway, I'll be posting one of the requests today too, it's fluff yay and my first aizawa attempt, so... Yeah. A/n is longer than the fic itself, seems like it.

Warnings: delicate subject, mentions of sexual harrasment, reader isn't in a good mental state, guys if it's triggering don't read it please I have no idea if there's any other things that could be triggering

Genre: angst, some fluff in the end

Pairing: bakugou x reader

W.c: 1,6k

You felt weak.

You have never felt this weak before, so helpless and unsafe.

You felt like you weren't supposed to talk about this with anyone. It was like if you told anyone, they would shame you, like they wouldn't believe you, or maybe even tell you it was your fault.

It didn't make any sense, why would anyone think that your logical part asked. But your insecurities wouldn't let you tell anything to anyone, making you feel sick when you tried to even hint it.

So you decided it was the best not to say anything, hide it forever even. Though you thought that was for the best for everyone, it was the hardest thing you probably ever did.

Your friends were aware of how jumpy you were late, how whenever someone touched you for anything, or even brushed you slightly, you froze with fear. But when they asked about it, you would brush it off as nothing.

They noticed how moody you were too, how frustrated you were with everything, crying, or getting mad at random, small things.

How you distanced yourself from people, hid for them, isolating yourself.

It was hard for them to see you like this -you were trying your hardest to smile and laugh like you always did, but they could see how much it hurt you to pretend- but it was especially hard for one certain angry boy. Bakugou was going insane, not knowing what was hurting you so and not being able to do anything about it.

Though he could never admit it, he had a crush on you. The worst kind, at that, or so he thought. He didn't like this feeling, of liking someone so much that you were constantly on his mind, his mood changing according to yours, laughing when you laughed, getting furious when you cried.

And lately, it was killing him. He knew you had feelings for him too, he knew how much you tried to look happy when he was around but it was just hurting you and that was even worse.

It was only until that one day he heard your soft voice, trembling with sadness as you explained what was going on to your best friend, Kirishima.

He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but it was impossible for him to just leave when you were crying so.

"I'm sorry." You told Kirishima between your tears. "I'm so sorry."

***

You knew you had to tell him some time. You just hoped it would be later. But there was no running away when Kirishima pulled you to the roof, making you sit and waiting for you to speak.

"You have to tell me." He told you as you squirmed to get away. "I need you to speak to me, Yn. I need to know so I can help you, you're my best friend and I can't keep pretending nothings going on."

"I can't either." You answered, whispering without even noticing.

"I can't lie anymore, I'm tired." You sighed and hid your face in your hands. "Eiji, you have to promise me you'll listen to me until the end, and don't do anything I tell you not to do."

"Of course." He promised.

"This is about my professor." You finally admitted.

"The one you get along very well with?" He asked cautiously, afraid that wrong words were going to make you stop.

"Uh, yeah." You answered with a dry, humorless chuckle. "Apparently, we weren't getting along for the right reasons." At this, his head snapped up, his eyes locked with yours. "What?!"

"He-he tries to touch me." You mumbled in your hands. "Y/N, what the fuck does that mean?" He tried to stay calm, but how could someone stay calm over that?

Your insecurities infecting you, you felt like he was questioning you, not believing you and you swallowed hardly. "You know what? I-it's really not that important, I exaggerated." You told him, feeling uneasy all of a sudden. But he wasn't having it. He scooted near you, taking your hand in his. "No, Y/N, we have to talk about this! What do you mean by- by trying to touch you?" Your heart hammering in your chest you decided to rip the band-aid off.

"He touches me." You repeated, a lump in your throat, not allowing you to speak more than a whisper. "And he always has that- that smile... that smile that shows he knows what he's doing, and he knows how weak I am, how I can never do anything about it." You went on, feeling the hot tears tumbling down your cheeks. You shuddered with the unwanted memories.

"Did he-" Kirishima stopped talking, wide eyes watching you. "Did he ever..." Although he couldn't finish his sentence, you knew what he meant. "No." You told him. "He never went all the way, it's more like he's toying with me."

"How did this happen?" He asked, words so silent, you almost didn't hear them. 

You shrugged. "It started small." Your voice faltering with tears. "At first I thought it wasn't on purpose." You told him as you relived the memories. "His hand sometimes brushed my breasts and my skirt... He would also press his body against mine when he was walking in the hallways..."

Oh my God, this was terrible. Just talking about it made you feel so weak. Why couldn't you just say something, do anything? Why did you always freeze with fear instead of fighting? Maybe some people just didn't have it. Did this make you unworthy?

"Then it just started to get worse. He would full-on grab me when he 'helped' me with my questions, would always come so- so close to me that I could feel him. He started to corner me, made me stay after class, and just always tried to catch me alone." 

"Oh my God," Kirishima mumbled, unable to say anything else. "Why didn't you say anything?" 

Yes. Why didn't you? 

"I was scared." You whispered. "I was scared of- of you thinking I was lying, that I was saying this for attention, that I was exaggerating, that this wasn't important that this was my fault."

Was it your fault? Maybe you could have worn pants instead of skirts. Or maybe you smiled at him too much, did you give him the wrong impressions? Was it really your fault?

His head snapped up, angrier than you had ever seen him. "How could you think all that?" He asked voice laced with anger. "He is a... a well-loved person, Eijirou. Everybody likes him, trusts him and he just looks so nice... Why would anyone believe me when-" You stopped talking when he hugged you once again, tighter than ever before. "I would always believe you."

I would always believe you. Words you longed to hear so damn much, making you cry uncontrollably.

"I feel so weak, Eiji." You said once again, the nickname you had given him falling off your lips for the first time in a while. "I can't even say anything to him... I'm weak... I'm afraid of people judging me, and I just can't feel safe anymore. I can't even trust myself." 

"I'm so sorry." He told you between the sniffs he was trying to hide, you thought it was ironic that he was the one apologizing. "I'm so sorry Y/N." 

Both of you weren't aware of the angry boy listening to you, shaking with anger and sadness. He couldn't believe there was someone out there making you feel like this when he himself couldn't even dare to tell you his feelings, let alone touch you.

***

"Where are you taking me?" You asked at the boy tugging at your wrists, pulling you somewhere.

Bakugou came to your door the next day he heard your conversation with Kirishima, a plan in his mind to help you, at least a little bit.

"Okay, we're here." He told you. He had brought you on a small field, surrounded by trees and flowers, an empty space in the middle. Your heart beat fastened in your chest, but how could it not when he looked this way to you?

"I will teach you self defense." He told you.

"What?" Wasn't that a little too random? "You heard me." He answered gruffly. "I'll teach you how to defend yourself."

"I- I mean- thank you!" You said, laughing a little. "But I don't understand..."

Oh no.

"Why?" You wanted- needed his answer to be something, anything other than what you had in mind. But it was obvious that it wasn't, when he stayed quiet.

"You heard us." You whispered, hand trembling with fear. The boy you liked, the one you had the biggest crush on, had heard how pathetic you were, how you didn't even have the courage to speak, to push this man's hand and confront him.

"No-" you choked. "It's not what you think." You said as you thought about what you could say, but your mind went blank when his hand caressed your cheek. "Don't." He told you. "Don't lie to me, you don't need to. You don't have to talk about it either, but I'll be here, always here for you to speak, to seek help, and now I will teach you self defense. You said you didn't feel safe, you felt weak. I'll be your safe place if you need me to, but I want you to feel safe yourself too."

You opened your mouth to say something but he didn't let you.

"Look, this isn't because I'm pitying you, or because I think you're not capable of defending yourself. I just- I want to help you, be with you, and this is the only thing I can do."

"Thank you." You whispered and without giving any warnings, you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "You have no idea how much this helps."

A long silence went between you, allowing you to ask that one question.

"But why are you doing all this for me, Bakugou?"

He pulled back with your question, though so slightly that your noses almost touched each other. "It's because-" he stopped, fear clawing in him. What if you didn't feel the same way? He knew you did, but what if you didn't?

He gulped and took a deep breath. You have been acting so brave for the longest time, he couldn't even understand what you had went through- even though you couldn't see how brave you were yourself. So he decided it was his turn to be brave now.

"It's because I'm in love with you." Your breath stuck in you, eyes wide but a smile of relief on your lips. "Bakugou..." You whispered as he leaned in a little more.

"I love you too."

[byronblogs]

Squealing Santa 2020- Cheating

“You should have thought about that before you cheated.” Iida shows Kaminari what happens when he cheats. @tickly-floof @ticklygiggles  

Kaminari finally succeeds in cheating on his Hero History test when it rubs Iida the wrong way, punishment ensues. (He is the Class Rep and all.) Fandom; BNHA/MHA

A/N: Sorry that the characterization might not be great, but I figured it was pretty close for someone who hasn't written anything creative for months😁 hope you like it! Merry Christmas❤

    For once in a lifetime, Class 1-A was actually warned about a test before Aizawa Sensei walked into class with the paperwork in one hand and a sleeping bag in the other. Everyone had prepared differently, some spent a whole week pouring over assignments and textbooks, some let it slip into the background and crammed at the last minute, and some decided they could sneak past the Class Rep while he was leading a study group and steal the answers. Kaminari thought he was smart, and he spent a good hour patting himself on the back for getting the test copy without his teacher or Iida noticing. 

    Normally, Kaminari would have shared, if he was honest he intended to, but he was already so impressed with his expertly executed recon mission that he didn’t want Mina to accidentally say something at the wrong time or have Mineta find out and bribe him for answers. Yes, Normally he would have shared, but a success like this was hardly normal. 

    Kaminari’s second success was when he somehow managed to sneak his answers into the class and turn in his test without revealing himself. He was sure that at this point, Aizawa was either letting it slide or losing his touch. 

    Not more than a day later did the tests come back, and kaminari could not have been happier. He’d thrown a few answers to look less suspicious and managed to land himself a solid B, the highest grade he’d had in years. He was so busy fawning over it in the dorms that he never even noticed Mina come up behind him in the dining area. 

    “Is that your test, Kami? Ooh! Let me see, let me see! Did you flunk it too?” Mina had pulled the test from his hands before he could even react to her presence, thankfully she was out of the way before a startled shock jumped between his fingertips. 

    “Woah! Hey, lay off!” Kaminari twisted in his chair as he tried to grab his test back, “Be careful, you’ll crumple it!”

    “You say that like you wanna tape it to the fridge, what did you get, an F minus?” Mina giggled, using one hand to push Kami away and the other to hold the paper up as she scanned it, “Woah! What the hell, Kami!? How’d you get a B?” Kaminari nearly fell out of his chair when she removed her hand from his face to cradle the test in both hands.

    “You what?” Iida’s voice echoed through the room as he stood up on the other side of the table where he, Midoriya, Todoroki, and Yaoyorozu had been going over their grades. The Rest of the class must have been off doing the same in the solitude of their rooms.

    “Nice work Kaminari!” Midoriya cheered from his seat, ever encouraging. Several positive reactions came from around the room as Bakugou appeared seemingly out of nowhere to tear the paper from Mina’s hands.

    “Damn, Sparky, not bad, you cheat or something?” Bakugou scoffed, eyebrows quirked as he scanned the test over before Iida stomped over and took the test as well, earning an indignant growl from the blond.

    “Precisely my question,” Iida frowned over the test before narrowing his eyes at Kaminari, “Cheating is forbidden in all testing environments,if you achieved this grade through dis-honest means-”

    “Woah woah woah! Everybody slow down, I didn’t cheat! I just studied! Can we please just stop playing Ring Around the Rosie with my test?” Kaminari begged, speaking a little too quickly as he leapt from his seat to grab his test, only for Iida to catch his wrist.

    “Oh, I don’t think so, you never study, especially of your own accord. Don’t lie to me. Did. You. Cheat?” Iida seemed more bristled than usual, his frown deeper and his height towering. 

    “Jeez, Iida, let me have this!”

    “Answer the question.”

    “I- well…” Kaminari gulped, “Okay fine! Yes, I cheated, but I think I should be getting a pat on the back anyway,do you know how hard it was to sneak past you and Aizawa Sensei? My recon skills should be applauded!” He pulled his wrist from Iida’s grip and threw his hands in the air, pouting.

    “Kaminari!” Iida chastised, “You are a student of UA, you should be holding yourself to a higher standard than this!”

    “Calm down, Iida! It’d just one stupid test!” Kaminari held his hands out defensively as Iida started stepping closer, Kami stepping back. At this point, everyone had grown quiet. Bakugou had stepped back to watch the show, Mina simply taking a seat on the table to stay out of the fray, and the study group in the corner sharing looks, wondering if they should be breaking this up.

    Nobody had ever seen Iida this angry, however, nobody had ever successfully cheated on a test either, “It is not just a ‘stupid test!’” Iida’s voice had yet to raise, but it certainly seemed more strained as he stepped forward, jabbing a finger at Kaminari with every step as the test crumpled in his other hand. “As Class Rep, it is my job to ensure that 1-A is holding a standard and behaving as future heroes should, and as of this moment you have done nothing but shatter that image!”

    Iida had backed Kami into a wall, leaving the boy nowhere to go but sideways, causing Iida’s poke to miss its mark on Kami’s chest and land on his side instead. It was the strangled yelp that left Kaminari’s throat that seemed to sober Iida for a moment.

    “Kaminari?” His voice was calmer, concerned as he scanned over his classmate, “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

    “Nope! I mean! Uh-” he swallowed, “I’m fine! All good! I would like to leave this conversation though, so if you don’t mind-” Kami moved to pass Iida, a faint blush on his cheeks, only for the taller boy to gently push him back into the wall by his shoulder and reach for his side.

    “Absolutely not. You don’t have much of an honesty streak going,and if you’re hurt your injuries should be addressed!” Iida gingerly started squeezing Kaminari’s side, searching for whatever injury caused his outcry, paying careful attention to how the boy stiffened.

    “H-Hey! Easy, Iida, I told you, I’m fine!” Kami insisted, pushing at Iida’s hand, still firmly planted on his shoulder. “Seriously, man, just lay- Ah!” The squeak certainly caught Iida’s attention.

    “Is that where it hurts?” Iida questioned, gently pressing on the little spot beneath Kami’s ribs to feel for injuries.

    “No, Iida! Wahait!” Kami dipped his head low and pulled a leg up to his stomach as his giggle escaped, trying to block Iida’s fingers. 

    It took the Class Rep about ten seconds of confused staring to finally get it. “Oh.” The subtle grin that spread across Iida’s face was devilish, and his tone was no better, drawing Kami’s wide eyes up to meet his.

    “Oh god, don’t you dare.”

    “I think I dare.”

    The attack was sudden and brutal, the test still held between Iida’s hand and Kami’s shoulder was forgotten as the larger boy dug into Kami’s lower ribs, rippling his fingers up the boy’s ribcage as he squealed. 

    “Iida! No no no waIT! Gaha! Gehet ohohoff! Iida!” Kami flailed, floundering between pushing Iida away and slamming his arms down, eventually settling to slide down the wall and try to turn out of Iida’s gip, the test fluttering to the ground as his escape was cut short by a large arm pulling Kami’s back to Iida’s chest and digging into his ribs.

    “Well, I think I’ve just figured out how to discourage cheating in the class.” Iida proclaimed as he dove his second arm into the frey, scratching at Kami’s stomach. By now, the rest of the room had relaxed and started chuckling along, Bakugou grumbling something about wanting to see that fist fight and leaving for his room. Mina had taken to giggling hysterically and shouting tips from the sidelines, not that Iida was hearing any of it. #

    “Iidaha! Stohohop, oho my Gohohod! Plehease! I cahahan’t!” Kami kicked wildly as he clawed at the hands assaulting his torso, squeezing his eyes shut and slamming his head back against Iida’s shoulder.

    “Maybe you should have considered that before you cheated, after all, your plan was so well executed.” Iida spoke in Kami’s ear, causing the boy to crinkle his neck and pull his legs to his chest momentarily, a squeak breaking through his laughter. When holding his weight grew too distracting, Iida chose to sit down right where he was, trapping Kami in his lap as he counted up his ribs. 

    “Tell you what, if you can tell me the correct answer to one of these test questions without your cheat sheet, I’ll let you go. Sounds good?” 

    “Whahahat!? Nohohoho! I cahahan’t! Iidahaha, plehehease!” 

    “Great! Now, let’s see here…” Iida leaned to the left a little, peeking at a question on the first page, Kami had spent plenty of time staring at it, he must have learned something, “What President approved ‘Hero’ as a job in the states?”

    “Ihihi- ohoho gohod! Ihihi dohon’t know!” Kami started sliding down in Iida’s lap with his squirming, laughter bright if not a little panicked.

    “Sure you do! Guess.”

    “Uhuhum! K-Kehenedy?” he shrieked a little as Iida flipped him out of his lap and onto the floor, leaning over him as he started drilling into his hips. 

    “Not even close. Maybe you need some encouragement.” 

    “IHIHIIDAHA! Nohoho! Nohohot theheheHEHERE! Gehehet ohohohoff!” Little sparks started jumping from Kami’s hair and skin, not enough to hurt, but enough to be startling, so Iida pulled his hands away just in time for Kami to arch his back and kick the wall, connecting his heel right with a wall socket and promptly knocking out the power. For a moment, all you could hear was Kami’s huffing breaths and slowing yet hysterical giggles as he calmed down, this quiet was short-lived, however, as the whole room busted out laughing.

    “Oho my Gohod, Kami! What did you do?” Mina cackled, Midoriya wheezing like a dying seal in the corner, bent over the far end of the table. Even Todoroki was Chuckling wildly. 

    “What the FUCK, Sparky!?” Bakugou called from upstairs, presumably seething. Kaminari stopped sparking just as a glowing-eyed Aizawa walked into the room with his Capture Weapon gripped in his hands.

“What is going on in here!?”

    The chorus of different students laying out blame on Kami and Iida did the poor eclectic hero no good in his explanation of his test results.

[celosiaa]

Short sickfic/whump prompt: based on the brief instances when I've heard him sing, I know for a fact that Alex J Newall has quite a good singing voice (+ a really pretty vibrato 😍), and lately I've been thinking a lot about Martin singing to Jon as a way of calming and comforting him when he's ill or upset. So, a hurt/comfort scene involving singing, perhaps? ♥️

I loved this prompt!!! Thank you so much!  Here is a short-ish fic about the transition between the Corruption and the Stranger, and the domains having an impact on Jon’s wellbeing. 

The song in this fic is “Your Song” by Elton John, which you should definitely give a listen while you read!  Please enjoy <3

Just a little longer.

Just hold on a bit, and he’ll be fine.

We’ll be fine.

Sniffling into his sleeve, Martin watches Jon sleep from where he’s curled up with his back against the tree, trying his best not to shiver in the cold he knows is not really there.  After they’d left the sick village, Jon had grown weaker and weaker as they approached the next domain—his steps stumbling, his breathing ragged and worn—until Martin had at last forced them to stop.  Jon had begun rambling, the words so badly slurred together he couldn’t make any of them out, and the ashen tone of his complexion was enough to convince Martin he was on the verge of blacking out.  The way Jon was shaking…he couldn’t help but settle him beneath their blanket, head pillowed on a small pile of their hopelessly wrinkled clothes, though he knows for a fact a steadily climbing fever is wracking his body.

He swipes at his own brow, nose wrinkling against the sweat he finds there, before tipping his head back against the tree in an effort to stem the flow of this sudden congestion.  Best he can figure, Jon had been overwhelmed with…well, whatever goes on inside his head these days, and with him weakened, it left both of them vulnerable to the effects of the Corruption.  What else could possibly explain this illness out of nowhere, and the heat rolling off the man next to him in billows?

Jon shifts a little beneath the blanket, muttering feverishly with furrowed brows—the sight bringing hot, stinging tears into Martin’s eyes at once.

Damned fever, always making me weepy.

He swipes at his eyes in frustration, the buzzing in his sinuses building to a peak as he does—forcing him to turn away to stifle a few miserable sneezes into his sleeve.  It seems his efforts to be quiet were unsuccessful, however—as Jon begins to move about in earnest, letting out a low moan that turns quickly into exhausted coughing.

“Sorry, Jon, I’m sorry,” Martin mutters, letting his knees fall toward him as he reaches for his forehead.

God, that’s horrendous.

He can’t help but wince at the heat he finds there—burning even against his own feverish palm.  The coughing hasn’t stopped either, growing deeper by the moment, enough that it’s starting to sound a bit concerning.

“You alright?” Martin asks against the scratching of his own throat, lightly resting a hand on Jon’s chest.

It seems as though Jon did not hear him, merely continuing to cough wetly until his lungs at last settle down.  When he finishes, he leans back against the makeshift pillow, breathing as deeply as he can, the dampness crackling through his lungs even as he does.

“You okay?” Martin repeats, running a hand up and down Jon’s clammy forearm.

Still, Jon does not reply, merely closing his eyes and muttering—statements, Martin’s sinking heart tells him, all jumbled together in miles and miles of words of pain, of suffering, of sorrow.  It kills him to see Jon carry it all, and know he can do nothing.

Please please wake up

“Jon, can you hear me?” he asks, turning away for a moment to cough into his elbow.  “I’m right here, sweetheart—come back to me if you can.”

Grasping his hand tightly, Martin bends down to press a kiss on Jon’s forehead, willing him to return, to say something, anything—

When he pulls back, the muttering has stopped—though only in voice, for Jon’s lips still move erratically around whatever words the Eye is pouring into his mind.

And now tears have begun to slip down his face.

“Oh, darling,” Martin sighs worriedly, cupping Jon’s face in his hands and brushing the tears away with the pads of his thumbs.

To his dismay, Jon takes a gasping inhale beneath his hands, eyes blown wide and wild, before wrenching forward into devastating, guttural sobs.

“Oh god, oh Jon, come here—”

Martin pulls Jon up into his arms, keeping a gentle hold around his trembling frame, hands wrapping around his torso and resting at the nape of his neck.  In desperation, Jon clutches at Martin’s back, hands fisting into the folds of his jacket as his breaths pick up both shallowness and speed.

“Shh, shh—I’ve got you, darling, just hush now,” Martin soothes shakily, rocking him ever so softly back and forth, one hand reaching up to massage his scalp in a way he knows Jon usually finds relaxing.

But it’s all for naught, as he only continues to sob harder into his shoulder, hands clenching and unclenching in distress.  It dismal, it’s horrid, it’s gut-wrenching—and Martin has no idea how to make it stop.

I’ve got to calm him.

There’s got to be something.

All at once, he is flooded with a memory of the two of them back at the safehouse—Martin in his boxers, Jon in his flannel pyjamas—in the kitchen, laughing and dancing to—

Martin clears his throat, and begins to sing.

It's a little bit funny, this feelin' inside

I'm not one of those who can easily hide

The hands clutching at his jacket begin to loosen, and Martin cannot help but smile.

I don't have much money, but boy, if I did

I'd buy a big house where we both could live

And it’s so clear in his mind’s eye now, that for a moment, he’s sure that Jon is letting him See—the two of them in a proper house, with a dog and a garden and grey in their hair.  It’s the loveliest thing Martin has ever longed for.

So excuse me forgettin', but these things I do

You see, I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue

Jon has fully relaxed in his arms now, his breathing slowing down with every line of the song that Martin knows he’s mixed up the words for. Taking a pause for just a moment, he plants a kiss on the top of Jon’s head, swaying him side to side with the rhythm.

Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean

Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen

At first, he thought he’d imagined it—but Jon’s chest moves in a small shudder of a laugh, face still pressed into Martin’s shoulder.

“They really are, you know,” Martin whispers with a grin, and Jon shakes his head—before his shoulders follow, and Martin can feel the tears dampening his shirt beneath him.

“Oh, darling.” Martin sighs, heart breaking at the little gasps coming from beneath the mess of hair.  “Shh, hush now, I’m right here.”

They spend a few moments like this before Martin continues, rocking him back and forth and praying to whatever gods there are that his voice will hold out for just a bit longer.

And you can tell everybody this is your song

It may be quite simple but now that it's done

I hope you don't mind

I hope you don't mind

That I put down in words

How wonderful life is while you're in the world

At last, at long last, Jon picks up his head from Martin’s shoulder—just barely long enough to peck him on the cheek—before he flops back down again.  The joy and relief that washes over Martin now is like nothing he’s ever felt—just grateful that maybe, for now, the worst has passed, and maybe Jon will be able to get some proper rest.

“Here, love—why don’t you lie down, okay?  Just lie down on my lap here, you’ll be alright,” he encourages, gently guiding Jon to do just that.  

For a moment, they remain silent—Martin stroking a hand through Jon’s fever-soaked curls, before he opens his eyes at last. Though green and glowing and so very strange now—they’re still endlessly deep, and so searching, and so very, very Jon.

God, I love you.

Even as he thinks this, Jon grabs his hand, bring it down to rest against his chest without looking away.

“One more time,” he says, voice whittled away into nothing.  “Need you to see.”

“See…?”

“Please.”

And Martin cannot help but comply, as Jon’s eyes fall closed once more.

And you can tell everybody this is your song

All at once, he’s caught up in a vision—and he knows for certain Jon is feeding it to him, letting him in for just a moment—all for the purpose of showing him memories.  Memories of them together.  

Jon’s arm looped through his as they walk through a blustering Scottish afternoon—

It may be quite simple but now that it's done

Endless cups of tea set on Jon’s desk, before they melt into shared cups, shared tea, Jon making it in their kitchen, Martin teasing him about it not being right—

I hope you don't mind

Lying in bed together—

I hope you don't mind

Their lips joined together in an affront to the dark—

That I put down in words

The vision fades, and Martin is left with what’s in front of him—his love, his love, and nothing else.

I love you I love you I love you

Leaning over him with a blushing grin, Martin sings the last words, certain that he’s never sung them with such force of meaning as in this moment.

How wonderful life is while you're in the world

Jon opens his eyes again at last, and—though ill and drained and exhausted beyond all measure—allows his face to melt into a smile, which Martin finds it impossible not to kiss.

“I love you too,” he whispers, before pressing another into his hair.  “Now go to sleep.”

At once, Jon does his best to comply, and Martin is soon to follow—a moment of peace in the growing dark.

[megashadowdragon]

What Noctis Learned: a tl;dr essay

So I've been thinking about this for a while and seeing so many posts/articles/character analysis on this game has finally prompted me to put it down in words. This is going to be a giant spoiler for the whole game so if you haven't finished it or Episode Ardyn yet then do that before reading this.

Everybody good? Okay.

I've heard lots of people look at FFXV as a coming of age story, with the main character changing and growing from a somewhat lackluster teenager to a responsible adult and in some respects that's absolutely right. It is a story about Noctis' growth from a reluctant and poor leader into a Kingly King like his dad (get it? Regis? Kingly King?). But then people usually follow that up with stating that Noctis started out as a selfish guy who didn't appreciate his friends thought he was too good for them and....wha? Were we playing the same game? Were we watching the same story?

Noctis has always appreciated his friends. Noctis has never thought he was better than them. That was never his issue. In fact, the issue is somewhat the opposite problem. Here me out:

The lesson Noctis needed to learn was about sacrifice. Not just self-sacrifice, although that's certainly part of it. But the heavy burden of sacrifice that only Rulers experience. He needed to learn how to sacrifice others or let them sacrifice themselves for the greater good. The theme was laced throughout the game from the beginning.

Everyone sees Regis as a great King. What makes him so great, though? Well, he knows how and when to sacrifice, not only himself but others for the sake of the future. He takes on the burden of knowing that people are dying for him, and for his kingdom. The Crystal is just a big old reminder of that burden, and so is the Wall, a physical representation of what it means to sacrifice.

Everything outside the Wall has been sacrificed to the enemy so that everything within the Wall may have peace. And then when it's revealed that Regis must sacrifice his only son in order to save the world, he accepts that burden too. He also accepts than in order to let his son realize his destiny, all of Insomnia must be sacrificed.

When Noctis rages at Cor in the tomb, it's because he doesn't agree with his father's sacrifice, both of himself and Insomnia, in order to save Noctis. He doesn't accept that noble burden. He rejects it and is plainly not ready to take his rightful place as ruler. He sees that a bunch of people just died for him, including his family members, and he doesn't think he was worth that sacrifice at all.

When Gladio demands to know before the fight with Titan if Noctis is "of Royal blood or not" it's because he feels the weight of his own father's sacrifice and needs Noctis to understand that he is ready and willing to do the same. If you'll note in the scene, this happens after Noctis has recklessly tried to dart ahead of Gladio and prevent him from doing his job (i.e. shielding and sacrificing his own body for the King) and he wants it reaffirmed in Noct's mind to accept that duty. To accept that yes, he might actually need Gladio to die for him and since Gladio's going to that extent he needs to know that Noctis will actually be worthy of that sacrifice and continue on to fulfill his destiny.

Luna's sacrifice in Altissia, followed by Ignis' blinding and then his moment of doubt where he actually asks Noctis to halt their journey basically represents the lowest point for Noctis, where all his fears seem justified. Noctis fears that he's actually not special or "chosen" at all, he can't save everyone, he couldn't even save the one person he thought he was meant to save, and now Ignis who already sacrificed his eyesight for him is voicing out loud his fear that all this sacrifice might be too high a cost.

So Noctis falters. He doesn't put on the ring. He doesn't head for the Crystal right away. And Gladio becomes upset, not because he thinks Noctis doesn't care about Ignis, but because him not pushing on despite the sacrifice kind of renders it pointless. And Gladio doesn't know that Ignis himself kind of tipped the scales on Noctis' reluctance to sacrifice others for the good of the kingdom here.

Then Prompto gets yeeted off the train, Gralea happens and the sacrifice of Noctis' last real link to his dad, the Regalia. And Noctis has to go it on his own, using the ring's power to survive, and here's where people like to say that being without his friends makes Noctis appreciate them. But I think being without his friends actually makes Noctis realize that he HAS to continue on without them, that his destiny still needs to happen with or without his friends and family surviving to see it. He's starting to accept the true burden of being a leader.

The scenario before he enters the Crystal has him needing to choose between fighting with his friends or possibly leaving them to die in order to fulfill his Calling. Ardyn taunts him with this choice, calling him selfish for abandoning his friends.

Ardyn himself never learned the lesson of sacrifice, which started the entire problem in the first place. As a healer, he refused to accept the deaths of others, and thus kept taking more and more Scourge into himself rather then letting a single person be sacrificed, even to the point where it would damage the future envisioned by the Gods. While we're obviously supposed to regard Somnus as the other end of the extreme; sacrificing people pointlessly for his own gain, I don't think we are supposed to view Ardyn's refusal to sacrifice anyone as a good alternative either. A good leader is supposed to know when and how much to sacrifice for the good of the nation, so when the Crystal rejects Ardyn it's because he hasn't learned how to sacrifice.

So we get to the timeskip, Noctis baked in the Crystal and now he's all done and ready to accept the true burden of being King. No turning back, no preventing his bros from sacrificing their own lives for the effort, no changing his mind about whether it's "worth it" or not. Noctis finally learned the burden of sacrificing for the future, one that he won't get to be a part of.

Originally, the Lucis Caelum line was meant to be a sect that worships Etro, Goddess of Death. Some remnants of the story still show this, what with the Ring of the Lucii requiring blood sacrifice or at least a sacrifice of lifeforce in order to gain its power, the theme of skulls and the significance of the colour black for the royal family.

All this long rambling is meant to say is that FFXV is a story about the main character learning how to accept the burden of noble sacrifice and not really about a lazy slacker learning how to stop whining and appreciate his friends.

source: www . reddit . com/r/FFXV/comments/ol3te6/spoilers_for_the_entire_game_what_noctis_learned/

comments :

Noctis's lesson is also exemplified when he has to encourage his own dad to deal the final blow that sends him to the void. It mirrors Noct's own reluctance, and the choice to push onward anyway, when the sacrifice feels too great to bear. It solidifies the fact that he deserves his seat on the throne.

I agree overall, though I'm also inclined to think that sacrifice itself is intended to throw value judgments into the starkest possible relief by demanding the loss of a lesser good for the sake of a greater good.

Regis makes the astoundingly vast sacrifices that he does because the salvation offered by the Chosen King is the greatest available good. And it takes Noct a long time to understand that because his value judgments are off -- he can't bear being responsible for the loss of an individual even if the alternative is the loss of every individual.

And yes, I think that Noct's choice to let his friends hold off the daemons while he went ahead to reach the Crystal is the point where he truly understands what's required of him... and that it is a very effective reflection of the difference between the point he had finally reached and Ardyn's continuing rejection of that dynamic.

One interesting thing about Ardyn is that he is willing to sacrifice others for his plans, but his value judgments are still really wonky. He went from valuing individual persons to such an extent that he risked being completely ineffective to valuing nothing but himself and his own desire for revenge. Somnus' value judgments are wonky, too, of course, because he over-values his own ambition.

As for the ultimate conclusion of Noct's growth, he develops a quiet confidence in his value judgments that allows him to take risks and accept sacrifice without second thoughts. ("A king pushes onward always, accepting the consequences and never looking back.") Just before he ascends the throne, his friends have to stay behind to cover for him again... and he doesn't think twice about allowing them to fulfill their duty by doing so. Then he willingly endures an agonizing self-sacrifice knowing that doing so will bring about the much greater good of the world's salvation.

[lordoftermites]

Fairy Chess ‖ p. ⅱ

Desire, I'm hungry I hope you feed me How do you want me, how do you want me? Pairing: Roiben x Kaye Rating: M/E for Myself is a deviant and Everybody about to know about it Part Ⅰ

――――――

"I warned you, little fox," he whispers roughly. "I do not play fair."

The halls on the way to his rooms are near empty and quiet—a stark contrast to the liveliness of the throne room, much to Roiben’s relief. He leads Kaye along, passing the odd servant every few paces; they shuffle out of the kitchens, carrying silver trays piled high with replenishments and crystal bowls overflowing with varying shades of equally-diverse liquor. They stumble into bowing when they see the king among them, to which he gives a nod in response, releasing them to continue their tasks.

As they pass the still-bustling kitchens, he wonders, absently, if any of them have had a moment’s reprieve through the near-month-long revelry. He concludes not likely, and makes a mental note to be sure they are given proper respite when this is all over. Roiben had promised he would be different—better than those who held his station before him. He could start with this.

Suddenly, Kaye is pulling on his arm, tugging him out of his reverie and into a dark corridor splitting off from the main hallway. Roiben frowns; she knows the way to his chambers, and this isn’t it.

“What—?” he starts, but the question is abruptly silenced when Kaye pushes him back into the packed earth wall and covers his mouth with her own.

Her kisses are furious, burning things. Her hands, as they slide up the front of his doublet to grasp the buttons fastening it closed, are echoes of that ferocity.

Before Roiben can protest (not that he had a mind to in the first place), she’s already loosed the three silver clasps at his collar and is fumbling to undo those remaining. His own hands find their place at her hips to pull her into him. The sigh she gives when his fingers sink into the soft flesh there sends a spreading warmth through his lower abdomen, to the hardening length between his legs. They begin their own dance, tongue over teeth in the abandoned hall, the only sound that of their own breath quickening.

After freeing the last clasp of his doublet, Roiben’s already-labored breathing catches in his throat when Kaye’s hand slips farther down, to grasp him through his trousers. He shudders, fingers digging into her sides at the shock of the sensation. “Kaye,” he cautions against her swollen mouth, but she answers him only with a teasing squeeze. A groan rattles his chest. It’s almost painful for how good just this small action feels. Then he realizes, like a strike of lightning: she had made her first move of the game when she pulled him into this corridor, and now she’s advancing her turn without allowing him his.

A pixie, indeed.

Before she can steal another victory, Roiben encircles her wrist with his thumb and forefinger and spins them in one motion, until she is the one backed against the earthen wall. He pins her arm at her side, then forces a knee between her legs, parting them roughly. Kaye makes a small gasp at his sudden forcefulness, but doesn't protest. Instead, her leg snakes up to curl around his hip encouragingly.

He presses himself against her other thigh, near to throbbing now after her first wicked move. When he meets her eyes, he can see the greed in them even in the dim light. Her breathing is shallow, but she looks as though she’s ready to devour him in one gulp. He feels himself twitch at the thought of that. Kaye must have felt it too, because she grinds herself against his knee and bites her bottom lip in the same, ruinous way she had in the throne room.

This time, however, there are no onlookers to witness him leaning in to grab that bottom lip with his own teeth, no courtiers to gasp when he sucks on the swollen flesh—nor are there any other ears to hear the delicious moan she gives him for his checkmate.

Releasing her wrist, Roiben pauses only long enough to allow her to think it’s her move; sure enough, the hand he’d been holding against her side reaches out for him again, but he stops her short by crossing an arm over her chest, pinioning her there against the wall. Kaye huffs in frustration, wriggling against the bar of his arm.

A dangerous smile tugs at the corner of Roiben’s mouth. He brings his lips to her ear again, snaking his tongue out to lick the lobe. “I warned you, little fox,” he whispers roughly, his free hand gliding under the sheer fabric of her dress to thumb the band of her underwear, “I do not play fair.”

With a wink much like the one she’d given him earlier, he slips his hand down to the heat at the junction of her thighs.

Kaye’s gasp is divine, her arching back and the feel of her pulse against his stationary palm setting his mouth to water. She tries to grind against his hand, but he moves with her, refusing her the friction. Her fingers claw at his forearm in feral protest as he presses against her bundle of nerves yet makes no further move to give her what she wants. She lets out a whine, while her leg squeezes against his hip. Roiben can’t help but grin at the petulant sound.

“That’s… not… fair,” she pants, then seems to remember what he’d just finished reminding her; she relaxes, minutely and begrudgingly, against him and lets her head fall back against the wall.

Another point to the king.

Roiben takes this small sign of surrender with another smile and begins to move, drawing a languid line up, then down her slick petals. Without warning, he pushes a single finger into her core. Kaye makes a sound bearing close resemblance to a sob.

Just the feel of her, warm and trembling around him, is enough to make him stifle his own moan against her neck. But it’s Kaye’s mewling gasps in tandem, the agonizing pleasure as she bites down on his exposed shoulder in retaliation, that causes his hips to buck of their own accord against her other leg.

He draws back to look at her, wavering on a salacious faultline of his own making. It’s a measured effort to keep himself from taking her, right there in the dark of the hall—and by the look in her eyes, she knows it. “Now, that was unfair,” he grits out, reciprocating her low blow by adding another digit to his rhythm.

Kaye’s eyes widen before rolling closed, enraptured as his fingers curl inside her. He’s unrelenting now, driven by his own building desire as well as Kaye's own, picking up speed and then slowing to a painful withdrawal before sliding back in to the base of his knuckles. He can tell she’s every bit as furious as she is aroused; by the way she sinks her nails into his chest and drags them down his torso, her frenetic gasps; her leg a vice around his back; her walls clenching around his fingers.

She’s growing frantic—a wild creature lashing out at her captor. Fortunately for the both of them, Roiben has no interest in taming her any longer.

He traces his tongue along the pulsing vein in her neck as he finally gives her leave to move, withdrawing his arm from where it braced against her chest. “Go ahead,” he encourages her, palming her breast with his now-free hand through her dress. Kaye needs little more incentivizing than that; tangling her fingers in his hair, she rocks down onto his hand, setting her own chaotic speed. Her head falls against his shoulder, her lips going to caress the spot she’d bitten earlier.

Her other hand finds him again, stroking his length through his trousers. Roiben's eyes roll and he sucks in a breath at the touch, but he forces himself to keep focus; over and over he thrusts his fingers into her core, as deep as he can get them, curling and pressing into the spot that makes her cry out.

Kaye's whimpering, coupled with her unfettered rutting against his fingers while she palms him, is drawing him closer to the edge of his already-wavering control. His cock is overhard in her hand, his trousers too constricting. It is no small effort to keep his composure from crumbling.

Adding a third finger, he swirls his thumb over her soft petal of nerves and dips his head lower, closing his mouth over the thin fabric to get to the pert nipple beneath it.

He isn’t sure which of these—if not all of them at once—is the one to send her careening over the edge of rapture, but she topples all the same.

“Oh—oh, god. Ohfuckoh—fuck, Roiben!”

She’s attempting to stifle herself in the hall, but seems to struggle in maintaining a steady octave. When she buries her face in his shoulder to muffle her curses, he doesn’t restrain his pleased smirk.

Kaye bows off of the wall, spasming around his fingers as she rides the tempestuous wave of her release. Determined to see her through it, Roiben continues the pumping rhythm she set, teeth raking the sensitive area of her breast. She writhes and convulses against him, until her moaning declines into quiet whimpering at his neck. She collapses back against the cool earth, breath ragged, seemingly spent.

When Roiben finally straightens and withdraws his hand, however, Kaye catches him at the wrist, surprising him.

She brings that hand up to her clover-green lips; his eyes widen.

“Rath Roiben Rye…” His true name is hardly an exhaling of breath—though he hears her as clear as if she'd screamed it—before licking herself off his fingers.

He can’t decide, at the moment, which act is most shocking, but he can do nothing about either—even if he could work it out: He goes still as stone with the instant power of her invocation.

And while he knows Kaye can’t mean to do him any harm, that this must be some perverse ace up her sleeve to win their little game, not an ounce of that knowledge does anything to stop the old panic from clawing its way up to close his throat.

It does not balm the sudden stinging behind his vision.

His breathing comes in too short. Too shallow.

He realizes the irrationality of these feelings against Kaye. They are unnecessary—unwarranted. They are old nightmares.

She knows now what it means to conjure that power. What it means to him.

His heart is yet a wild animal beating against its own cage.

She won’t hurt him. She loves him. She knows.

Say something, he pleads without speaking.

He cannot diffuse his thoughts. He cannot bear this fear of suspension, the hovering step, seconds before the floor is stolen out from under him; of watching—of feeling every muscle, every joint, every nerve in his own body go rigid against his will, as it does every time. He knows he’s trembling, and yet he cannot stop himself. Not unless it comes from Kaye's mouth. Not unless she speaks the order.

Do it. Make me move.

Command me, Kaye. Command me, or release me.

It’s only a moment, a breath as she regains her bearings, but it is a long enough stretch of time that when she does speak, he is near to spiraling.

“Take me to your room, now.”

[onmykneesforhotdilfs]

Hello, I wanted to ask you for a special shipment for Valentine's Day that is about the wedding of bloom and valtor and their married life, I would appreciate it very much, I hope I will not be a bother, thank you. ps: I love your writing bye.

First of all, of course you can have special shipment for valentine's day that is about the wedding of Bloom and Valtor and their married life.

Secondly, thank you so much for your kind words. You guys can't even believe how much your encouragement means to me.

Thirdly, I have like 5 more requests sitting in my inbox but please be patient, i promise to get to them as soon as possible. School is sitting on my chest currently. They will be done, the only question is when will I find the necessary time to do them.

Ok so without further ado, here we go. I decided to do this headcanon style, but if you guys want full fledged wedding or married life ff, just send in a request and it'll be done (eventually).

Sparxshipping wedding/married life headcanons (valentine's day special)

Engagement

Weirdly enough, it took place on Earth instead of Domino. Valtor organized an incredible evening in a rather nice restaurant, invited both of her families and all of her closest friends, Winx and specialists, including Sky (Bloom remained on friendly terms with the guy after the break up). The plot twist, he never told anyone he planned to propose. His manners and etiquette threatened to kick him in the ass for not asking Oritel for his permission to marry his daughter, but he had a hunch his future father in law would say "No." and that would do more harm than good in the future. Mike was more fond of him, especially when he noticed his rival (Oritel seemed to have the habit of making people dislike him) hated the magician with passion.

Valtor picked out the ring months before and he was just waiting for the perfect moment to present his beloved with it. The perfect moment seemed to strike when Bloom said one evening she always wanted to get all her friends and both of her families together on one big dinner in some nice Earth restaurant so they can all just chill for one night (she wanted to show her birth parents the planet she grew up on and she also wanted it to have a symbolic meeting for all of her friends). So when the opportunity struck, Valtor took it and wouldn't let go. Bloom protested to him organizing and paying for dinner she wanted but he had none of it and simply told her to 'relax and leave it all in his capable hands'.

All of Bloom's friends accepted the call immediately but Oritel made Valtor sweat for a few days before even he succumbed to his daughter's invitation (also, he suspected Marion had her fingers in tipping the king over the edge because if Valtor learned anything while he worked in the palace 20+ years ago, it was that Marion, despite her innocent looking facade, was quite the blackmailer and if he deduced correctly, she wore the pants in that household).

He was not nervous for a moment while he planned the whole thing even though he expected it at least on some level. But nothing could've prepared him for that moment when the dinner was done and they all stood up to leave the restaurant. The minutes were agonizing for him and despite everything he started second guessing his decision. It took all of his self control not to chicken out.

As it turned out, he had nothing to be anxious about, because as soon as he dropped to one knee, Oritel made an inhuman sound in the background, and popped the question while presenting Bloom with the ring, she threw herself on him and screamed 'YES!" in his ear. He could vaguely hear her friends screaming from excitement and happiness, that was mostly Stella, and one not so very happy voice saying "God damnit NO!", but he paid them no attention as his shaky fingers slipped the ring on Bloom's equally shaky hands. She threw her hands around his neck and kissed him while happy tears streamed down her face.

Wedding

The newly engaged couple was in no hurry to tie to knot and that seemed to displease everyone, mainly Stella because she wanted to go shopping for wedding dresses and bridesmaids dress (not that she needed the excuse to go shopping but 'Guysssss, this is special!'), but Oritel. As far as Valtor managed to catch, he was persistent in making his daughter change his mind about marrying Valtor. Then, overnight it seemed to him, Oritel started being more friendly and willing to spend some time with Valtor to 'get to know him'. He didn't understand the sudden shift in the beginning, but when his fiance took time to explain she threatened to burn all the expensive curtains in the palace if the king doesn't start minding his own business, everything fell into place.

The wedding preparations took over a month when they actually started planning, which was well over two years after the engagement but they figured, if they waited this long, they can wait a bit longer too. It was decided that the wedding will take place on Andros where their first official meeting happened, on a Colosseum he created to save her life when Icy's ice block knocked her unconscious into the water. Flora offered the help with the decorations, Stella dragged Bloom dress shopping and Musa and the rest of the fairies took care of other essentials in consultation with the wedding planner Bloom and Valtor personally picked out.

Despite the fact they already live together, they decided to somewhat respect the tradition and spent the night before the wedding separately. This was partially done to make Oritel a bit more docile at their wedding and to honor the tradition of groom not seeing the bride in her dress before the wedding. They both had difficulty with that as was evident when neither of them could sleep that night, their bodies and fire inside too accustomed to the other being near. Bloom spent the night on Domino and Valtor went back to Alfea. The parting kiss the two shared had to be interrupted by Marion and Vanessa, so neither Oritel nor Mike came out to see what's taking their daughter so long to say goodbye, before it turned into a heavy makeout session. The two had to be almost hauled apart, Marion and Vanessa holding Bloom as Daphne took Valtor by the collar of his shirt and dragged him away to Alfea.

The morning brought no relief however because Valtor was too busy lowkey freaking out and Bloom herself couldn't stop rushing around the palace to fetch stuff she needed despite the fact maids could bring it to her. Valtor's mental breakdown was stopped by Andy, his best man weirdly enough (they got really friendly after the whole Earth mission and black circle fiasco. There was originally a bit of jealousy on Valtor's part because Bloom seemed to really like Andy and it reached the peak when he found out they dated back in the day. But Andy's quirky personality and unending questioning about magic really brought them closer together and helped Valtor realize, Andy is one of the best humans to have around).

Bloom got her fair share of support from Stella, who even threatened to slap her friend on the wrist for not sleeping, but sympathy shone in her eyes when Bloom told her she couldn't sleep because Valtor wasn't there. She also made a quite inappropriate joke in a very inappropriate time just as her parents, both pairs, entered a room. "So you couldn't sleep because Valtor isn't here or was it the exercise that is done primarily beneath the sheets that you missed?" Oritel gripped the door frame so hard Bloom though she even heard it crack. Bloom blushed like a tomato and gritted her friend's name through her teeth but luckily blonde took the hint and shut her mouth.

As the wedding approached, Valtor got even more fidgety but tried to fight it because he knew in just a few short hours, Bloom will be his forever. All that time, Andy stood on the side and quietly laughed at the man and a friend he always associated with being stoic and good with covering up his emotions. He would've never thought Valtor of all people would succumb to something as trivial as wedding jitters.

When Bloom and her family, together with Stella arrived on Andros, guests and everybody else were moved to the place of ceremony, only Oritel and Mike remaining with her. Bloom decided she wanted to have both of her dads give her away at her wedding day. The tricky part was getting them to get along because Oritel wanted to be the one to give her away ("I'm her father, damn it! Why should I share my right to give away MY daughter on her wedding day?" "Oh please, you royal ass, you don't even like that lad she's marrying! Think of me as a supervisor that makes sure overprotective father of a bride doesn't actually STEAL his daughter so she can't marry!" "I'm the KING! I don't need supervision!" "If both of you don't SHUT UP IMMEDIATELY I'm going to walk down that isle alone." That phrase spoken by Bloom shut them up and the two, although with big frowns on their faces, reluctantly agreed)

Valtor's breath got stuck in his throat when he saw Bloom first time in a wedding dress. The dress had thin straps holding and supporting the dress on her delicate shoulders as the flowy lacy dress sat on her tiny frame perfectly. He saw her stop for a second as she took him in for the first time as well in a burgundy suit with a purple tie and handkerchief of the same color. He didn't even notice as both of Bloom's fathers kept shooting each other looks over their daughter's head during the walk. He only saw Bloom. He woke up from his daydream when Bloom's small delicate hand was placed in his by two larger hands, one belonging to Mike, other to Oritel. He nodded to both of them and gripped her hand like it's his lifeline.

The wedding officiate was saying some nonsense that Valtor didn't listen until it was time to exchange the rings and swear to each other for all eternity. When the ring exchange was done, when all that needed to be said was said and the famous, long awaited words "You may kiss the bride." were spoken Valtor finally relaxed and leaned down to kiss his wife for the first time. The crowd went wild, Stella screamed and Oritel almost fainted, Mike and Vanessa were seen wiping the tears from their eyes. Overall, the wedding was a success.

Roxy, to Andy's big surprise and delight, caught the bouquet. The three story cake was cut and smeared all over newly weds faces. Congratulations were proclaimed and a lot of kisses were shared. A carriage with unicorns, similar to the one on Daphne's wedding got rolled in the moment Bloom and Valtor's feet touched the solid ground. Bloom couldn't contain her excitement and she rounded straight to the unicorns while the guests and her husband said the last goodbye for at least a month. She was shaken out of her trance when Valtor grabbed her hand and then lifted her bridal style into his arms and stepped into the carriage with her in his arms. The couple waved to the crowd beneath and shared a kiss before the carriage disappeared into the portal.

Married life

They spent their honeymoon gallivanting around different worlds but they remained mostly on Earth. They both preferred warmer locations, so tropical resorts were where they chose to spend their honeymoon in. Bloom actually had no involvement in planning of the honeymoon so she was so pleasantly surprised when the portal opened on Maldives and she was greeted by a sight of turquoise water and small but fancy apartments built on water. For someone who seems to spit on a traditional views more than he follows them, she was surprised how many superficial, at least in his opinion, customs Valtor followed for her. Aside from deciding not to see her before the wedding as mentioned before, he also insisted on carrying her over the doorstep.

They spent the whole month without phones and annoying phonecalls from Stella, one of the main reasons why they chose not to bring anything but the emergency bracelet which can be used to contact either party only in a case of an emergency. They had to explain to Stella that new dress in Vogue was not an emergency and therefore, the bracelet was given to Techna because she was the only one they trusted not to abuse the right to call.

When they finally returned from honeymoon, and after they spent good hour and a half convincing Oritel Bloom's not pregnant, a joint decision was made that the newlyweds will be given the keys to the separate wing of the castle where their privacy was guaranteed (yeah right, as if Valtor will get anything even resembling privacy with Bloom while Oritel's around).

Their married life wasn't too different from their normal life. Valtor would wake up first most of the time and would make breakfast for Bloom. Bloom would sleep in most of the time when she didn't have to go anywhere and Valtor would sometimes have to use drastic measures to get her out of bed.

They shower together because 'it saves water', oh wait that was the excuse they used before they were married. Now they shower together because they're married and what they do doesn't concern anyone.

Life in the castle had some advantages but they'll be damned if it didn't have it's fair share of disadvantages as well. The biggest one being, well, Oritel. There were a few times they were almost caught in a compromising situation but somehow they always managed to avoid the full blast. They both knew it was only the matter of time however. Valtor was even tempted to leave the doors unlocked just so Oritel would get what he came to see and hopefully gauge his eyes out so he could longer disturb them. Bloom swatted him over the head for that one.

They both made an appointment not to sacrifice their friendships just because they're married so Winx were guests quite often.

Valtor still decided to teach in Alfea when it was absolutely necessary and when Faragonda asked him nicely few days in advance if he would be willing to teach the class. Bloom would sometimes sneak into the class as well and sit in the back. She would even take notes from time to time.

They would practice magic quite often together in the backyard of the castle that was customized for such situations. But their favorite place in the whole castle was Valtor's office/library where they could both spend hours in, while just reading books and drinking tea.

[youre-killing-me-fandom]

Parkner week 2020 Day 1: future au

This trope was not my own idea. Also, this is my first time writing fanfiction so it’s probably terrible. All constructive criticism is welcome. 

..........................................................................................

The last thing Tony Stark remembered was the white-hot pain of the stones' power rushing through his body followed by the peaceful relief of feeling nothing as his surroundings slowly drifted away. 

Yet there he was, standing inside of a building that looked strangely similar to the Avengers Compound though at the same time, completely different.  

"Tony… you've been gone for over ten years…" said Pepper slowly with tears in her eyes. 

Tony's eyes widened in shock. "What year is it?" 

"2036"

Tony's mind had to take a second to process what he was hearing. He had been gone for thirteen years, which means Morgan should be almost eighteen, Peter 29, and Harley 30. His kids grew up without him; his baby girl was an adult; Peter and Harley had graduated for Christ's sake, from both high school and college. Tony couldn't have held back the sob he let out even if he tried.

"Oh Tony…" she gathered her husband in her arms. He buried his face in her neck and let out heart-wrenching sobs. His tears were beginning to dampen Pepper's neck when she started to run her fingers through his hair in a soothing manner. 

"They were devastated, you know," Pepper began, "Everyone was, but it took them longer to finally accept that you were gone." 

Tony raised his head and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "Who?"

"Harley and Peter," replied Pepper, "Harley locked himself in your lab for days on end and wouldn't come out until someone went in and forced him to get some rest. Peter wouldn't eat and hardly got any sleep from all of the nightmares he was having. It finally got to the point where Helen had to hook him up to an IV after he passed out once. That was when I told them both that you wouldn’t want them doing this to themselves. After that, they started to make progress.” 

Another wave of sorrow hit Tony like a brick wall. His boys were so upset over his death that they neglected their own health. How many times had they willingly allowed themselves to be hurt because of him?

"But they got better," continued Pepper, "They were able to find comfort and start looking after each other." She let out a chuckle. "They were practically attached at the hip. Still are." 

That made Tony smile. He was glad that they got along. He always wanted to introduce them but never got the chance to before the Blip happened. 

"You should see them. You'd be so proud. They're both helping me so much with Stark Industries. I honestly have no idea what I'd do without them," said Pepper, as she wiped away the remaining tears left on his face.

"What about Morgan? How’s she?" 

"She's amazing," said Pepper. Tony tried to make a comment about how of course she is, she’s his daughter, but Pepper just ignored him with an eyeroll.  "Peter says she's the perfect combination of you and me with your brains and my business skills. God only knows one day the three of them are either going to take over the world or destroy it." 

Tony let out a snort, "That sounds about right." 

···································

They continued to talk about everything he'd missed for over an hour when Pepper let out a startled sound, “I forgot to tell you-"

"Hey Pepper, do you know where my..laptop...is…" said Harley as he walked in before making eye contact with Tony and tapping his watch, which turned into a repulser that was aiming straight at the older man.

“Harley?” Tony asked in wonder, tears threatening to spill again. Harley looked different from how he did when he had last seen him, but that was, without a doubt, him. His dirty blonde hair had grown long enough to reach just above his ears, and, Jesus, was he tall. The blue-eyed boy looked like he reached a height of about 6’3”, a full two inches taller than Tony himself. He was about to say more but was cut off by a startlingly hard voice. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" yelled Harley. Pepper jumped up in alarm at the younger boy's harsh tone and stood between the two of them, getting in the way of the repulser's shot.

"It's not him, Harley." Not who? Tony thought.

Harley’s narrowed eyes never left the other man as he replied with a snarl, "Tony’s dead, so who else could it be?" 

"It's not, I had Friday check to make sure it wasn't an illusion. Do you really think I wouldn’t think of that?" said Pepper, her voice laced with accusation. 

Harley looked at her for a second before reluctantly lowering his gun “No...but then how-”

“Your guess is as good as mine. He said the last thing he remembers is using the stones against Thanos before ending up here.” 

Tony watched them talk back and forth for another ten minutes while he processed what just happened. What did this person do to make him so hostile? Before he could stop himself, he voiced his confusion. 

Harley stopped arguing with Pepper and turned to him with a sigh, “You’re really you, aren’t you?” His eyes searched Tony for any hesitation while he waited for an answer. 

“Of course, who else would I be? Seriously, what’s going o-” 

He was cut off by someone throwing themselves at him and wrapping their arms around him in a firm hug. “God, I missed you, old man.” 

Tony relaxed in his grip and returned the hug tightly. “Missed you too, kid” 

It took them several minutes to rein in their emotions and let go of each other, their faces wet with tears. Neither of them were ever really good at emotions, both preferring to make sarcastic comments rather than state their true feelings.

“So, you never answered my question,” stated Tony. 

Harley looked at him in confusion, “What question?” 

“Who did you think I was?” Tony both wanted to change the subject and satisfy his curiosity, but Pepper and Harley gave each other a worried glance before tentatively turning back to him. 

“It’s a, uh, long story,” Harley said, “A lot happened while you were gone," but as he raised his arms to start explaining, Tony noticed something. 

“Hold on a second...Is that a wedding ring?! You're married?!"

“Oh, well, I guess,” The blonde boy sheepishly rubbed his neck. 

“What do you mean you ‘guess?’” Tony cried, “Who is it? Do I know them?” 

Harley looked overwhelmed, but it was obvious that Pepper found this all amusing due to the bright laugh she let out. “I told you he would go crazy if he ever found out. Just wait until he hears who it is.” The boy glared at her for a second, wishing she wouldn’t encourage the older man. It wasn’t that Harley was afraid to tell Tony about his husband, but...he was kind of afraid to tell him about his husband. Both Harley and Peter knew that Tony had seen them both as sons, and they had mournfully speculated on multiple occasions what his reaction would be; however, now that he was given the chance to find out for himself, he was hesitant. Would Tony be mad at them? God knows that neither of them would be able to deal with their pseudo-father's rejection very well, especially Peter. 

“Well, you see, it’s-”

“Tony?” Tony’s head shot up at the sound of his name.

“Peter! Wait, it's not-” Harley tried to reach out to the other boy, but he fearfully jerked away from the incoming touch, eyes wide. When he saw this, Harley’s blue eyes softened into something akin to hurt and a small sympathetic noise left his throat. 

“Peter, sweetheart, you’re ok, you’re safe. It’s not Beck,” spoke Harley softly, as if he were talking to a frightened animal, but it didn’t seem to work.  Peter began to hyperventilate the longer he looked at the scene in front of him. In an attempt to block out the illusion, he quickly shut his eyes and covered his ears, trying to defend himself against the more than likely painful experience he was about to have.

“Pepper, get him out of here!” snapped Harley, and it didn’t take long for Pepper to grab Tony’s arm and pull him out of the room despite the boy’s rude tone. At this point, Tony was very confused. He thought Peter would be ecstatic to see that he was back, not fearful. And who is Beck? The name is vaguely ringing a bell. Is that who Harley thought he was? What did he do to Peter that would make him have a panic attack the moment he thought he saw him?

Once he and Pepper were out of sight from the other two, they came to a stop. “What the hell was that all about?” Tony demanded. 

Pepper let out a long sigh, and in that moment, she looked very tired. "Do you remember Quentin Beck?" 

The second Tony heard the man's full name, memories of a brown haired man screaming at him rushed to the surface of his brain. That psycho was who everybody was so defensive against? Tony remembered the project they were working on. Beck was brilliant, but he had proven himself to be unstable when he tried to use an experiment with their work on an unsuspecting intern. After that, Tony had stopped the partnership between them and wrote up a contract that said Tony got full rights to the product and Beck would only get part of the credit since Tony had done most of the work anyways. He really hoped that didn't result in consequences for his protege. 

But unfortunately his hope ended up being dashed when Pepper began to explain all of the things Beck had done to Peter in Europe as revenge for what Tony had done, from revealing his identity and framing him for murder to hitting him with a speeding train (of all things), all while psychologically tormenting him with illusions of his worst fears and most traumatic experiences. Apparently while Peter was on the run as an international criminal, Pepper and Happy had sent him to stay with Harley to lay low while they cleared his name and did damage control. 

Tony couldn't believe what he was hearing. His son had gone through hell and back in the wake of his death and Tony wasn't there to help him.  Peter must've felt so alone, not to mention all of the PTSD he must've gotten from the whole ordeal.

Pepper saw the combination of anguish and fierce protectiveness on his face and assured Tony that yes, Peter had been through a lot, but between Harley, Happy, May, Morgan, and herself, he was able to mentally recover for the most part. He still has nightmares and panic attacks about what happened but he is now able to put the suit on and protect New York despite what happened to him as Spider-man. 

Tony still had so many questions, but before he could voice any of them Friday’s robotic voice said, "Mr. Keener wishes me to tell you that you may make your way back to the living room."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Pepper slowly led Tony back to where the boys were, she cautioned, "Just give him some time. One of Beck's favorite things to torment him with was you."

Tony's anger flared once more. How dare Beck hurt his kid like that. It's a good thing he's dead because he definitely wouldn't be alive for much longer with Tony here now. 

When they finally re-entered the living room, what Tony saw made him freeze. Peter wasn’t cowering against the wall anymore but was now standing in Harley’s arms with his face buried in the taller boy’s chest. Harley had his head rested on top of Peter’s chocolate curls as he serenely swayed the both of them back and forth and murmured something Tony couldn’t hear. He looked over to Pepper to see if she was seeing the same thing he was, but she was just looking at the two with fond eyes before quickly glancing in Tony’s direction with a smug smile. He raised his eyebrows at her in question but she just gently shook her head and cleared her voice to grab  the others’ attention. 

Peter and Harley both looked up, startled, before de-tangling from each other minus one hand. The former looked at Tony with hesitation and asked, “Is it really you?” 

“Yeah, bud, it’s me,” replied Tony, trying to put as much sincerity in his eyes as possible. 

When Peter heard that, he let out a sob and let go of Harley’s hand as he threw himself at his mentor. Tony was quick to meet him halfway in a bone-crushing hug, securing his arms around the boy as he turned his face into the younger man’s temple. Peter was openly crying with his head tucked into Tony’s neck, the tears on his face soaking the older man’s skin, “I missed you...so much,” hiccups breaking apart his speech. 

“God, I missed you too, kid,” was all Tony could say in response. 

It felt like hours before they let go of each other, them both trying to make up for the years they didn’t have together. When they finally took a step back, Peter went back to Harley’s side and grabbed his hand again, seeking comfort from it. That was when Tony noticed the gold band on his ring finger as well. “What the hell?! You’re married too?!” he shouted. 

Peter, Harley, and Pepper all gave each other a look that lasted a little too long, and Tony felt like he was missing something, “What?” 

“You really haven’t figured it out yet?” replied Pepper with a touch of humor in her voice. 

“Figured what out?”

“I guess I never actually told you who I was married to…” chimed Harley, “It’s, uh, it’s Peter. Peter’s my husband.” The couple gave each other a look full of love and adoration before turning back to Tony to see his reaction.

Tony’s breath was knocked out of his lungs, “Holy shit, seriously?” He always knew the two of them would get along together like fire takes to oxygen, but he never imagined this. Though now that he thinks about it, it kind of makes sense. The boys are very similar with their love of science yet are complete opposites personality-wise. Harley is rough around the edges and prefers to avoid discussing feelings or showing his true emotions, much like Tony does. While Peter, on the other hand, is soft-hearted and does his best to think about everybody else but himself. Together, they seem to complete each other, picking up the slack in one part of the other’s life that they weren’t aware was weighing them down. 

This time Peter spoke up saying, “Yeah, uh, we’ve been together for over ten years now. About four years ago Harley proposed to me and we got married two years later.” Tony’s heart dropped at the thought of missing their wedding. 

“They were both pretty upset about you not being able to be there, so we set up a chair in the front with a picture of you sitting on it,” added Pepper. 

Tony tried to will away the tears that were threatening to spill again but a few of them ran down his cheeks anyways. He was touched by their gesture and walked forward to engulf them both in a hug that they returned, “I’m happy for you, boys.” The two of them seemed to relax at that, but by then, everyone in the room was crying. 

“I’m glad you’re back,” whispered Peter with a smile despite the tears running down his face. 

“Me too, kid, me too.”

[cecenyss]

all might sucks

Okay so I’ve never posted anything on tumblr before but my friend keeps bugging me about posting shit and I’ve decided organizing this long rant I had with her on discord about All Might was a good place as any to start

I would like to preface this by saying that I genuinely think that All Might’s heart was in the right place when he began, but that doesn’t make him any less of an idiot or his ideas any less destructive. 

Okay. 

The Symbol Peace was, quite frankly, a stupid as shit idea from the very start and it boils my blood that it’s even framed as a good one. 

Let’s start with the obvious: dependency. 

By framing himself as this Symbol of Peace that everyone should look up to and is everything good in this world, he doomed society to fall from the beginning. After all, Toshinori Yagi, no matter how powerful, is human. He’s not immortal, he can’t live forever, and his reign would come to an end at some point and when it did, there would be consequences. 

Furthermore, he knew that he was going to retire and did absolutely nothing about it, successfully making sure that the world would feel the repercussions of depending on one human being for 35 years, give or take, was a really fucking stupid thing to do. 

More than that, he made himself out to be the ideal person, and whether this was intentional or not, that had consequences. 

After all, All Might’s quirk is strength enhancement. It is a physically enhancing quirk, regardless of it’s origins, and by framing himself as an unbreakable symbol, he got it into everybody’s heads that that was what worth was. Power. Powerful quirks. Quirks in general. 

And yeah, I’m sure he did all kinds of nice charity work on the side; he told Izuku that real heroes do that kind of thing, after all, and I doubt it was just for show. But what was televised and encouraged was the beating up criminals part, and that’s what everyone grew up with. That’s what was prominent and most noticeable to people. 

If All Might wasn’t so prominent in this super powered society, Katsuki Bakugou would not have grown up being told that he would be a great hero because his quirk is so powerful. He would have been told to get off his high horse because he isn’t better than anybody else, and maybe he even wouldn’t have told his childhood best friend to jump off a roof. 

Maybe Hitoshi Shinsou wouldn’t have been told he was a villain. Maybe he wouldn’t be so defensive and hostile to everybody on instinct because he was used to being told he was a villain. 

Also, by framing himself as ideal and perfection and all things good in this world, he worsened mutation discrimination. Because All Might doesn’t have a mutation, and All Might is perfect and the best hero ever and the best person ever, clearly mutations are inherently bad, and it’s okay to leave them out, because they aren’t good.

Another thing is his whole “only villains do that” shtick. It’s funny, sure, as a meme, but it pushes this idea that there are two sides in this world; hero and villain, good and bad, right and wrong. But in the real world, nothing is that black and white. He’s making it out like villains are these horrible, irredeemable people and thus pushing them deeper into the corner they were already in. 

He’s also, in addition to increasing the public’s dependency on him, increased their dependency on heroes in general. We can see this in Shigaraki’s backstory. 

[minor manga spoilers ahead. i think most people know this, and it’s about to be covered in the anime, but it’s worth mentioning that it hasn’t been yet. at the next bold line it should be over]

Tenko Shimura wandered the streets for god only knows how long, and nobody helped him. 

He says it himself; people are content to sit by and do nothing because there are heroes around to help him. The problem is, they never do. It comes to the point where the only person who does help this poor boy is a man who exploits and uses him for the rest of his life. 

All For One is the person who helps Tenko when the heroes wouldn’t, because All Might wouldn’t, and that is why Tomura Shigaraki exists. 

[okay we’re done]

The thing is that heroes are corrupt. Stain saw this, and though his choice in victims was questionable, he was still right. Heroics is corrupt. 

And onto my last complaint: Izuku Midoriya. 

Oh boy, do I have opinions on how this man approached Izuku Midoriya. 

The first and obvious one: The rooftop. 

He told this kid, who is quirkless, that he couldn’t be a hero without a quirk. 

But Unicorn, he fixed it later! He helped Izuku become a hero! He helped him!

Um, no he fucking didn’t??? 

All Might said he could be a hero, yes, but never that he could be a quirkless hero. 

And OH MY GOD I hate that. 

All Might gave this boy a quirk, and his life turned around. He got into his dream school, he made friends, he wasn’t bullied, he got a good teacher, he got a good mentor, his lifelong bully began to respect him as an actual fucking human being. Life is good. He’s being treated the right way he always should have been because of who he is, a bright, quirky and bubbly boy who’s a little too anxious for his quirk. 

But from Izuku’s perspective?

All that happened because he got a quirk. 

This boy is going to come to tie his entire self-worth to a piece of hair. To a quirk that, let’s be real here, he only got from a completely chance encounter. 

All Might has completely reaffirmed every single thing Izuku has been told his entire life. Before OFA he was worthless, weak, a deku, and nothing important, and the only reason he is now is because of a piece. Of. Hair. 

This is another reason I happen to respect Izuku a shit ton, not that it’s relevant. More than once he was willing and able to give up what in his eyes was the only reason his life was good or he was like by anyone; once with Mirio after the Shie Hassaikai, and a second time with Bakugo, a person who tormented him for his entire life, in the Heroes Rising movie. 

There are a few other little things that bother me about All Might, namely his abhorrent teaching methods and lack of ability to keep a secret, but those are less pressing than the ones already listed. 

And once again, I want to clarify that none of this means that All Might is really a bad person, and despite my better judgement, I don’t actually hate him. I just think he’s an absolute moron who doesn’t think far enough ahead into the future. 

And before anybody says anything about Izuku not actually tying his self-worth to a piece of hair, I want to also clarify that that is what would have happened if this was written better or more realistically. Not to say that he doesn’t think like this in canon; he very well might. But I understand that it isn’t presented that way. If we’re considering these people as real, however, then that is what would have happened, most likely.