#and i guess i can get how adding a romantic layer would be annoying to some ppl but i think the kind of emotions doesn't

[milfbrainrot]

have always been a bit more neutral to timebomb but it has rly surprisingly grown on me so much ;-; i think i do see it more from the tragedy angle and maybe more one-sided. i'm not sure jinx has ever been in a place to reciprocate the feelings i'm sure ekko has, but it is nice to think about for years down the line and in terms of what could have been.

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Covenant: Presents and Kisses

Reid Garwin x Reader

Word Count: 1,858

Summary: It’s reader’s birthday and Reid has some surprises up his sleeve. Dedicated to the lovely @saviorsong​. Happy Birthday! 

The café was a small, single room operation so sound from both the dining area and the kitchen traveled throughout. And everyone heard when your boyfriend came out of the bathroom, throwing the door open with such force that a bang rang out from where it hit the wall.

The poor barista almost dropped a drink they were making out of surprise.

“Babe, that was the biggest shit I’ve taken this month,” Reid practically shouted as he made his way back to the table.

You didn’t bother to acknowledge that particular comment and kept your attention on Tyler who had also tagged along with you guys. It was better to not entertain poop talk seeing as how you were in public.

“Babe! Did you hear what I said?”

“I think everyone did,” you replied pointedly. He dropped into his chair, hands clutching at his stomach.

You continued chatting with Tyler about a class you were taking and Reid still kept fidgeting and groaning. He was normally dramatic but he was really hamming it up.

You turned to him with a raised brow. That was all it took for him to increase his complaining.

“I think it was the food. It’s gotta be food poisoning, I feel so sick.”

“But we ate from the same plate.”

A glance at the table showed a shared plate that had long been eaten with not a drop of sauce left on the it after you both had all but cleaned the dish. If he actually had food poisoning, shouldn’t you be feeling it too? Your stomach felt perfectly fine, if not satisfied.

“Everyone reacts differently to these things, you know.”

Tyler nodded seriously, corroborating Reid’s claim. Those two were thicker than thieves, always ready to back each other up.

“No telling how bad this could get. I’m gonna head home but you should stay, Ty can hang out with you,” he said.

“Really?” Your tone was colored with incredulously. “Today of all days?”

He completely ignored that and bent down for a kiss. You were extremely tempted to turn away but ended up giving in. Reid may be an idiot, but he was your idiot. Keeping up with the sick-as-a-dog routine, he gingerly hobbled out of the café.

And since he was your idiot, you knew something was definitely up. You didn’t claim to be the smartest person around but Reid wasn’t exactly subtle.

Immediately, your attention turned towards Tyler. If one was plotting, then the other would know.

The brunette raised his hands as if to keep things peaceful. “Okay, okay. Don’t be upset.”

“It’s my birthday and my man just ran out under suspicious circumstances. I have every right to be annoyed.”

“Exactly! You’re the reason why he left!” He paused for an awkward second. “Wow. That came out totally wrong. What I mean is that he’s setting up something nice for you.”

“He is?” you asked suddenly touched.

Reid was a romantic sort. Maybe not always so smooth about it, but a romantic nonetheless. And he did do things for you often, even if a good number of things were in an attempt to apologize for something stupid he did, but he had never done a birthday surprise.

Well, not one where he had kept it a surprise for this long. Normally he couldn’t keep quiet about his plans so you were a bit impressed that you hadn’t noticed until his terrible acting just then.

Tyler nodded again, this time in excitement. “Yep. He needs a few hours to get it ready though…we can either stay here or walk around. Your birthday, your choice.”

His methods may be, well, unconventional, but your heart beat a little faster knowing he was planning something. Your mind wandered, thinking up various possibilities. Two hours couldn’t go by fast enough.

***

It ended up being close to six o’clock before you returned home.

You closed the door gently and toed your shoes off. The quietness seemed that much thicker with anticipation weighing heavily.

A trail of rose petals wound around the living room and trailed down the hallway, presumably to the bedroom, but you got distracted by a tantalizing aroma. 

You followed that into the kitchen instead and found a skillet filled with something delicious. Other bowls with other fantastic side dishes were arranged randomly around it on the countertops.  

And then you noticed the cake. Unlike the others, the cake was displayed on the table, a package of candles lying next to it. You walked closer to get a better view and couldn’t the grin hat spread across your face.

Clearly, he had made the cake himself. Not that that was off-putting to you in any way. It was really quite cute.

He had made a small two-layer cake which in of itself didn’t look too bad. The sides were not traditionally frosted so, the parts that were visible, you could see that the shape and the softness looked about right. Kind of. 

In lieu of normal frosting, he had attempted to coat them with a crumb frosting of some sort. Despite his best effort, the crumbs didn’t hadn’t spread evenly with some parts having barely any and others having too much.

It looked like he also had issues with the frosting on top. You guessed that he had tried to apply it while the cake was still warm because it was thinner than it should have been, almost glaze-like. Some had even started to leak over the sides before it was cool enough to harden up again.

Even with flaws, it was still the sweetest, frumpiest birthday cake you could ever remember someone making for you.

You stuck out a finger trying to taste the crumb coat when you felt a sharp smack to your ass.

“Oww!” Rubbing it, you saw Reid standing behind you with a towel in his hand. “Did you really just spank me with a towel?”

“It’s not time for cake yet,” he said. He was shirtless, tattoos on display, baggy cargo pants riding low on his hips. There was a hint of tiredness in his eyes but it was mostly irritation. “This part was for last. You were supposed to follow the roses first.”

Ah. He was irritated that you messed up the plan. But you were so excited to see what else he had in store that you didn’t answer back with a sharp quip of your own. “Then lead the way.”

With a sigh, he put his hands on your shoulders and walked you out of the kitchen. His grip was gentle though so you knew he wasn’t seriously frustrated with you.

The path of rose petals came back into view and you realized they were from a real flower and not plastic. A warm feeling spread through you and it only grew the closer the closer the path drew you to the bedroom. Reid stayed just behind you the whole way, your gentle guide.

“The flowers are beautiful, Reid.”

“I know. And a normal person would’ve followed them from the start.”

“Sorry,” you giggled. “The food all looked really good though. Three Michelin stars across the board.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just open the door, would ya?”

You pushed the door with your fingers, thoughts racing. What were you going to find? That fancy stationary set you’d been eyeing online? A fluffy, tail-wagging puppy? A chest of kinky toys?

With Reid it could any one of the three. Maybe even all three.

Tons of balloons were inflated and rolling around the floor, so much so that you had to kick a few out of the way to be able to step in. Even a birthday banner hung over the bed when he had thumbtacked it into the wall.

But the gift was unmistakable.

The large woven basket was sitting on the dresser, fibers dyed your favorite color was hard to miss.

Then came the stuff that was practically overflowing from said basket. You rummaged through it like a old woman at a yard sale, pulling out something new with every handful.

Jewelry. A soft blanket. Cans of your favorite type of drink. Hand painted ceramics. Some hard cover additions you’d been meaning to add to your personal library. New head phones. Dozens of origami creatures. A tee from your favorite team. Coffee mugs and several blends of beans. Hand-held tools  to replace your old ones with. And not only a stationary set but a wax letter stamp seal as well.

And everything from the basket to the last gift followed the same theme: it was all in your favorite color.

You jumped into his arms and he caught you. “I’m—this is…this is…”

“What?” he said, his breath tickling your ear and fingers gripping your thighs tightly. “Impressive? Inspiring? The best goddamn gift you’ve ever seen?”

“Touching,” you whispered.

You couldn’t see it, but you could sense the soft expression on his face.

“How did you even manage to find some of this stuff in this color?”

“It wasn’t easy, let me tell you…”

He went on explaining how he started with the just the stationary (you were right and he had noticed you looking at it) in your favorite color.

Then he added the headphones, also in your favorite color.

Then he’d painted the ceramic pieces himself.  

Eventually thinking up even more potential presents to get, he’d come up with the idea to do everything in that color. The tools were the hardest but he was very proud that he’d been able to pull it off with the help of a custom order from a local business.

“This is super touching. Thanks for putting in this much thought and effort,” you said finally lifting your head up to give him a kiss.

It was meant to be a quick peck but Reid’s lips followed yours when you tried to pull back, turning it into something more passionate. He even managed to lick his way into your mouth before you finally parted, panting for air.

“Mmm,” he breathed, lips back on yours. “You’re eager to get to the next event.”

You made a confused sound in your throat which he swallowed. One of his hands traveled up your leg and over your hip to come to a rest on your lower back. He turned you and that’s when you noticed the bed.

The comforter was already pulled slightly down and more rose petals were scattered all around. He laid you down on the mattress and prowled up your body. The petals were even more fragrant now that you were closer to them.

“What’s the next event?” you asked coyly although it wasn’t hard to guess.

“One kiss for every year you’ve been alive,” he said with a cocked smile. “It was either that many kisses or that many orgasms—I figured all those orgasms might be too much for you though.”

You bit his bottom lip and snuck your fingers under the waistband of his cargo pants suggestively. “How about both?”

He watched in rapture as you removed your shirt, eyes glued to your chest.  

“Anything for you, babe. Happy Birthday.”

_______________

Yay! Thanks for reading. I hope this was alright. 

In my mind, Reid is the type of romantic to make you things, hence the food, origami, and ceramics. But sensual time will also be included just because. 

Honestly, he probably heard what Caleb did for his s/o and, in typical competitive fashion, decided he could do better. He roped in Tyler to keep reader distracted and spent a few hours cooking, decorating, and assembling the massive personalized gift basket. 

They likely did reach fulfill the birthday kiss count but how many orgasms they managed to achieve is up to your imagination. 

[to1vity]

too’s jisu “tickle attack”

requested!

— “Hii💓 it's really hard finding writing blogs about TOO, i'm happy i found ur blog!! Could you write a fluffy scenario about the boys exposing Jisu's crush pls?? Thank u in advance💓 ”

wc. 1,364

summary. you and jisu are ‘just friends’, that is until the boys are forced to endure one tickle attack too many

warnings. minor swearing

(a/n: aw, i’m happy you’re happy you found my blog lol)

“jisu-ya!” 

the nine boys, aside from the one whom you were at the mercy of, stared at you with expressions ranging between frustration and annoyance. you were visiting the ten oriented orchestra dorm for the fourth time this week, which also meant you were suffering your fourth tickle-attack that week—from none other than choi jisu. the first time it was cute, the second it earned a half smile, the third it was annoying and the fourth, well… let’s just say the boys could only endure so much.

“yn-ah…” he replied as he continued to tickle you, mocking your tone. the two of you engaged in this ritual, this back and forth, every time you were in each other’s company. it wasn’t like you two were born yesterday, either; it was pretty well understood by you both that this was, yes indeed, flirting. 

but the question of whether either of you were ready to do anything about it? yeah- that’s another story. 

the members were themselves ready to put a stop to the seemingly endless cat and mouse game that you and jisu loved to play, but there was a problem. they all feared what a forced confession would do to, not just jisu’s relationship with you, but also theirs with him. would he be mad? or would be he grateful that they could say the words that he couldn’t? would you be awkward? would jisu resent them if your demeanor towards him did change? these were all considered, as the boys had discussed it among themselves on an occasion. but, as mentioned, these poor boys could only handle so much. 

“i cannot take it anymore.” chihoon mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for donggeon and kyungho, who were sitting next to him, to hear. the other members who were out of earshot sat somewhere on the floor or on the arms of the couch. 

donggeon stifled a laugh—not that he necessarily needed to do so, you and jisu were in your own world. 

“seriously, i love jisu-hyung and yn and all but….” kyungho trailed. 

“it’s getting weeeeeeird.” donggeon teased, laughing louder this time. this gained the attention of the other members, as well as jisu who lightened up his attack on you once his attention was focused toward his friend. 

“what’s so funny, hyung? i wanna laugh.” woonggi, the maknae, pouted up at his older member. various versions of “yeah”s and “what’s funny”s colored the room—you even joined in once you came down from the effect of jisu’s ambush. 

donggeon looked at chihoon, then to kyungho, then back to chihoon; chihoon looked at the younger member with an expression that read “you’ve gotta dig yourself out of this one”, accompanied with a small smirk. 

“seeing yn get tickled was just funny, ahaha…” donggeon ‘confessed’ with an awkward laugh. “guess tickling is contagious! who knew…”

the mood in the room had changed, it’d become a little- erm- awkward. you noticed this, and spoke up. 

“what’s up with you guys?” 

the nine boys, excluding jisu, looked around at each other with wide eyes. the left out man in question looked to his members with confusion. 

see, jisu didn’t know that the boys were on to his romantic interest. not that he thought he did a particularly good job of hiding it, he just didn’t think his friends cared enough to pay attention. they’ve got their own things to worry about, right?

when your question solicited no response, you decided to make up some kind of excuse to leave the room. “uh, okay. i’m gonna run to the corner mart and grab a snack. you guys want anything?”

you didn’t expect anyone to speak up due to the tension in the room, but when minsu (your favorite member, don’t tell jisu) asked for a candy bar in the sweetest little voice you ever heard, you couldn’t help but crack a smile. grabbing your hoodie, phone, and their spare key,  you made your way to the dorm’s elevator. the entire trip to the store you couldn’t help but wonder if the boys had you figured out, and if that’s why the mood dropped so quickly. 

meanwhile, back at the dorm, chaos ensued. 

“we know you like them, and your painful attempts at flirting are obnoxious and annoying!” chihoon, unable to hold back in your absence, blurted out. 

“yeah, hyung, the tickling- that’s like, gotta stop.” jeyou added, the layer of hesitation in his voice softening the firmness of what he intended to sound like.

jisu argued with his members back and forth—every time he would try to deny his feelings for you or say that flirting wasn’t his intention, another one of his friends would come with a rebuttal that instantly shut him up. not for long though, as he would go back to denying or making claims soon after. this cycle continued over and over and over and over again, never seeming to end. 

not even when you stood in the doorway, hoodie on, black ‘thank you, come again’ mart bag in hand. 

you swore it was a good five minutes that you were just standing, listening to jisu and his members talk about you like you weren’t there; in all fairness, to them you weren’t. you heard jisu deny any feelings for you (which hurt) and then another member say that that was absolute bullshit (which gave you hope). the cycle would have truly been endless, so much so that you forced yourself to stop it. 

“ya!!” you yelled at the top of your lungs. “shut up!” all eyes were on you now, some shocked and some apologetic. the tension in the room had grown to be the same as before you left. 

“listen, you know i love hanging out with you guys but, clearly, you have a lot going on. i’ll just-” you fumbled into the black bag, pulled out minsu’s candy bar, and placed it on the table nearest you. “i’ll come back later when you’ve got this whole...thing...figured out.”

without hesitation, you turned around and exited the door through which you had just come. also without hesitation, jisu jumped up to run out the door after you. he thought it’d be easy to sort things out when it was just the two of you. 

he was wrong. 

you turned around to be greeted by jisu’s company in the hallway, half shocked half not. the way your hair fell and the expression on your face made it nearly impossible for anything to come out of jisu’s mouth. however, he managed. 

“how much of that did you hear?” he shyly asked, hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck. 

“more that i would’ve liked to. i mean, not in the way that i was offended or anything- i just wanted you guys to shut up, haha…” you offered a weak joke to lighten the mood between yourselves. it might not have taken the tone from cool to warm, but it did earn a small chuckle from the man in front of you, and that was enough. 

“listen, yn, i do like you. a lot. i mean, i kinda thought you knew but i didn’t want to say anything because...you know? i don’t want to ramble or anything…”

“yeah, yeah...i get you.” you said, your and jisu’s eyes meeting. all the pressure in the room seemed to have disappeared in that moment, and you found yourself smile. jisu returned the small action. 

“i’m still gonna head home. you guys have schedules tomorrow, you should rest.” you gulped, preparing yourself for what you were about to propose next. 

“but, next time, let’s hang out- yknow, just the two of us? we don’t have to do anything fancy, and you can still tickle-attack me!” 

“i mean, you had me at the two of us but i definitely would not have refused after the tickle-attack promise!”

you and jisu shared a laugh and one more smile. as much as you didn’t want to, you oblige yourself to depart from your...friend? honestly, it didn’t matter what you said you were, because the entire ride home you wore that same stupid grin; that told you everything you needed to know.

[sneykat]

You matter to me - Dashingfrost fic

Rating: Teen and up audience

Fandom: Thor (Movies)

Pairing: Dashingfrost, Fandroki, Fandral/Loki

Characters: Loki, Fandral, Thor

Tags: Pre-Thor (2011), Romantic Fluff, Fluff, Flirting, Secret Relationship, Loki needs a hug

Summary:        

Loki is sad. Fandral tries to comfort him. All in all a little piece of them referring to their secret relationship and their current feelings.

Notes:    

This is kind of an excerpt of a background story I am imagining for Fandral and Loki in which they share a secret relationship. It is more of a snippet than a real story. It is un-betaed. Sorry, if there are mistakes but English isn't my mother tongue and I haven't found someone willing to beta for me, yet. Aaaand: there will be snow. I wanted some snow to fall in Asgard.

“Thor, your stories are the best of all Asgard! Tell us how you’ve slain the beasts in Vanaheim!”

“Yes, do that, Thor! Wasn’t it in the blink of an eye that you wielded your hammer against their battle hog?!”

“I’ve heard it was your bare fist.”

“I’ve heard Loki assisted you by causing a fire storm.”

The men and women in the ceremonial hall were cutting in on each other in all their excitement about the return of Thor and his warrior friends. Their burning desire to listen to yet another glory story about victory and battle fueled them on. Loki could hear their shrill laughter and the praise from the hallway as he was about to make an entrance. It was Thor’s voice, which stopped him.

“Oh, you know how that works: some do tricks, others fight battles.”

There was mockery and ease in Thor’s amused voice and the joy and pride of a warrior, who was well used to claim the recognition for his achievements. To Loki these words felt like yet another stab, which was causing his heart to wrench in pain and anger. It wasn’t the first time for his brother to deny the importance of the part Loki had played in battle. It had been his magic which had given Thor and the Warrior Three the needed barrier of protection from the enemy to make their attack against the opponents work without getting hurt during battle.

With his own feeling of pride regarding the new magic trick and its success Loki’s mood had been in lighter spirit than usual and against his aversion of taking part in feasts he had had decided to take part in the one held that evening. It proved that once again all it needed was another sting coming from his own brother to ruin his mood.

Loki hoped that no one had noticed his appearance as he quickly slid to the side to hide between two colons.

He felt anger and sadness burn inside of him over the words, which he had overheard without the intent to. The combination of these two feelings was a dangerous mix for it turned into desperation if only it lingered long enough within the heart of a person – and the storms within Loki had had too much time to build up during the last years of constantly feelings of rejection and mockery put upon him. The despair he felt wanted to lure him into giving in to his hate of situations like these and the people who he blamed for them. The young Trickster tried to think about a way of teaching Thor and his audience respect. Nothing fancy. All he wanted was to scare them a little. However, it was hard to come up with a decent thought while tears were burning in one’s eyes and one’s heart was aching.

It was no other than Fandral, the Dashing, who made Loki snap out of his thoughts. He had just excused himself from the celebrating crowd for a moment to take care of his personal business as he caught Loki in his hiding spot. Sure, Loki could trick some people and hide well, but Fandral was an experienced Warrior and he had seen enough of Loki’s games and disguises to fall for a quick attempt of getting out of line.

“I see you are trying to yet again avoid another feast,” he spoke up to Loki with a teasing voice as he was nearing in on him.

Damn Fandral for finding him in a condition like this!

Loki quickly tried to blink away the burning tears as the warrior stepped closer. He bowed and gave Loki a charming smile. “Will you allow me to guide you wherever you plan to leave to?” Fandral’s voice still held a little tone of mockery, but it was also gentle and respectful. It was a mixture only a few men could pull off without being annoying and Loki sighed. “If you must,” he agreed. His acceptance of the offer made Fandral smile and he wrapped his arm around Loki’s lower back way too easy-going for the fact that he was talking to a prince. “I’d like to show you something, Loki.” Since there was no protest coming from the young prince, Fandral took the lead and guided Loki closer to the entrance of the patio farthest away from the celebrating people. Loki was everything but surprised for the warrior to seek a moment of peace for them to share without witnesses.

It was a cold winter’s day and snow had befallen the Realm of The Gods. On contrary to Jotunheim there still was a golden glow above the layers of snow which were covering the land. Loki adored the scenery of winter in Asgard. It made Asgard’s beauty look even brighter and, in a way, also more peaceful.

Once they had stepped out of the warm hallway Fandral took the fur he was wearing off his shoulders to place it around Loki’s. It wasn’t like Loki would feel cold but Fandral was a gentleman regarding things like these and he also felt responsible for the wellbeing of the princes when he was hanging out with them. He felt especially protective of the younger prince. Loki knew about that and he didn’t protest but rather accepted the act of kindness. Fandral gently pulled on Loki’s shoulders to make him turn around and face him. He then cupped the prince’s cheeks with his warm hands and gently wiped the barely visible trace of tears from Loki’s eyes with his thumbs.

“What has caused these tears, my dear?” Fandral asked gentle-voiced and looked directly at Loki while he was waiting for an answer. He knew the young prince. He knew that he hated feasts like the one celebrated tonight but a brief glance at Loki’s well-chosen attire had proved that the Trickster indeed had planned on attending the celebration anyway. While it was common for Loki to hide whenever he felt like it, it was uncommon to do it in a not very thought through way like in which Fandral had found him.

Loki gave a little sigh as he pondered about what to say. He didn’t want to reject Fandral, but he also wasn’t very fond of portraying himself as vulnerable.

“You stink,” was the answer of choice he came up with and Fandral chuckled. “I’ve had some mead as you would well expect me to during a celebration like this,” the blonde man replied kind of unimpressed, yet with a tone of affection. “If you will excuse me for a moment, I will get you a fair share of it, too. It tastes wonderful tonight. It is an exceptionally fine serving of your father’s distillery.” Loki considered the offer for a moment and nodded his agreement a few seconds later. Fandral gave him a bright smile. “I’ll be right back, my prince.” Again, he bowed before he left both – the patio and Loki.

Upon Fandral’s return his arms were packed with furs, blankets and a basket. He gave Loki yet another bright smile. “If you would follow me, my dear.” He took the lead and Loki did follow as Fandral was searching for a quiet corner, well hidden among some sculptures, flowerpots and snowed in bushes. On a bench which was carved into marvel walls he created a warm nest for them and gave Loki a smile as he reached out his hand to offer it to the Trickster. Loki accepted the invitation and let Fandral guide him to take a seat on the furs. The warrior took his seat close to Loki and wrapped them up in the blankets and furs before he pulled a candle holder from the basket. He attached a fitting candle. Loki noticed very well that it was one of the candle holders from the ceremonial hall. He grinned and so did Fandral.

“I’ll return it later,” he promised, and Loki chuckled. “I don’t mind you stealing from my father.” “I would never steal from anyone,” Fandral emphasized and Loki chuckled. “I know. But you would borrow a candle holder if you would want to impress your date.” “If that means that you are willing to be my date for tonight, I will have to agree.” Fandral smirked and it was the kind of behavior which made Loki’s spirit rise again.

“You are way too desperate for my attention, dear Fandral,” it was Loki’s voice which held a mocking tone but also a hint of affection by then. He used his magic to light the candle and it was enough of an answer for both.

With a smile on his lips Fandral poured them some mead from one of the bottles. “Not only a candle holder but also mead and festive cups,” Loki noticed seemingly amused. “You deserve the best, my dear.” Fandral laughed and Loki watched him with a gaze, which was brighter than he would want to admit. They clanged glasses and Fandral brought his lips close to Loki’s ear to whisper right into it: “You are not less of a prince than your brother, Loki.”

Fandral had quite a good guess on what had made Loki feel upset earlier on and he disliked seeing the young prince troubled so all he wanted to do was to help him get back to a more cheerful spirit.

“You better tell Thor and my father,” Loki replied bitter-voiced. “Thor can be mean and selfish if he brags about his achievements in battle, and your father will see how wonderful his youngest son truly is,” Fandral replied and added a hesitant “eventually” after he had noticed Loki skeptically raising his eyebrow. Loki pressed his lips together for a moment. He then raised his cup and had a sip from the mead, closing his eyes as the wonderful warmth and sweetness spread in his mouth and his throat.

Fandral kept on watching the young prince. He knew a troubled and pained expression if he saw one and even more one of a young man who tried to drown his worries in alcohol.

“You know that Thor’d rip your head off your well-defined shoulders if he’d figure out how much you’re trying to get into my pants,” Loki spoke up eventually. The usage of contractions usually indicated that Loki was beginning to either be drunk or be in too much inner turmoil to still care for a more formal usage of language.

“I rely on my trust in you and the idea that you probably won’t give away our secret after all we’ve been through,” Fandral whispered into Loki’s ear as he started to nibble on the prince’s earlobe.

“I don’t know who is playing with whom any longer,” Loki admitted after he had another sip from the delicious mead.

“I can assure you, that I will never play with you, my prince. It was in all honesty when I told you I’d wait until you have made up your mind about how far you want to go with me.”

Loki felt how gently Fandral was playing with his hair. The warrior let his digits cart through the hair tips on Loki’s neck and did not hesitate to caress as much of his skin as he could reach. He noticed how his prince leant into the touch with the slightest of movements. It had been like that for a while: both sharing intimate gestures, which often resulted in Fandral trying to cheer Loki up. He held honest feelings for the young prince, and he was sure that Loki too had feelings for him. It seemed a lot harder for Loki to admit to them, but Fandral could live with that. If the warrior could be close to Loki, he did not care about hiding what they shared from the rest of the world.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re the only one who understands me, Fan,” Loki sighed. Fandral noticed the usage of the nickname Loki accentuated as sweetly as no women he had ever bedded. He loved it when Loki relaxed enough to turn into his softer and more open self.

“It is not easy to understand the complexity of your mind, my dear, but I sure notice when you’re not feeling well.” “How? How is it you notice when no one else does?” “Because you look beautiful even when you’re sad and I cannot take my eyes off you.”

Fandral’s words reached Loki’s heart and his lips turned into a little smile. “You really think that”, Loki replied. He had understood that much during all the time they had shared together. “Yes, I do. And I always will think that. You are most beautiful, my prince.”

“Will you ever stop courting me?”

A soft laughter from Fandral was the reply to Loki’s question and he held him a little tighter. “No. Unless you want me to.”

“I don’t want that.”

“Well, in this case, my prince, I will never get tired of telling you that you mean the world to me.”

“Will you tell me about this when I forget?”

“You will hear it as often as you need to.”

Loki watched how fresh snow started to dance from the sky. He wondered whether his soul would ever come to find peace. Meanwhile Fandral wondered about his beloved prince. He was concerned about him. Loki’s loneliness seemed so big and consuming that he could only hope that the young prince would find a way out of his misery someday. Fandral was willing to help as much as he could but it was not the first time, they shared a moment like this, and he had understood that a lot of what troubled Loki came from within the prince himself. Fandral could not take away Loki’s pain but he might as well help to soothe it.

After a while of just sitting together without a word spoken, it eventually was Loki who found his voice first.

“If I’d ask you to sleep with me tonight, would you?”

Fandral took a deep breath at that question. He had waited for bedding Loki for so long that naturally he wanted to push forward. However, he also knew about the meaning this question had for Loki.

“I would. If that is what you genuinely want. It is your first time after all and the alcohol…”

Fandral could not finish his sentence for Loki put his fingertip over his lips and watched him so intensely that he felt like his stomach would jump up and down.

“I want someone to make me feel like I matter,” Loki tried to explain. He seemed somewhat embarrassed as he spoke. Fandral started to smile and he gently grabbed Loki’s wrist to take his fingertip of his lips. He held Loki’s hand and placed a tender kiss on its back.

“I will prove how much you matter to me, my prince, and I’ll make sure you’ll never forget about it.”

 ***

the end

[darkmasterofcupcakes]

How about 002 for Glimbow? I'm curious to see where it started! =)

002 | Send me a ship and I will tell you: 

When I started shipping them: The first episode, in Bow’s introduction - they were actually the first couple I really shipped in that show. There was just something about how they were interacting with each other that gave off heavy friends-to-lovers vibes for me, and I am a SUCKER for those kinds of ships, so it took me less than a minute to be hooked.

My thoughts: As someone who has always had a weakness for friends to lovers as a relationship trope, Glow/Glimbow was pretty much always going to be a ship I would be on board from the very beginning. The fact that Noelle has revealed they’ve been friends since they were kids just made me love them even more, since I especially am soft for childhood friends to lovers. The fact that a lot of their relationship is fairly subtle just adds to the appeal for me - I just love when it’s so obvious that two characters love each other that it’s apparent just from little things. Plus, their relationship is just...really sweet and I appreciate that there’s not a lot of drama to it. They just....care for each other and that’s all there is to it. 

What makes me happy about them: Just the bond they have! Whether you see it as platonic or romantic, you can just tell they love each other so much, and it shows so clearly in basically every interaction they have with each other. They’ve been best friends for as long as they can remember, and they know each other better than anyone else does or probably ever could. And that kind of connection makes me so soft, it’s not even funny.

What makes me sad about them: Whenever the two of them clash and the issue isn’t resolved quickly. Even though they care about each other so much that I know it’s more likely than not that they will reconcile before too long, it’s always hard to see them have that sort of wedge between them, partly because you know they both feel horrible about it. Moments like their fight in Princess Prom or especially what happened between them when Bow sided with Adora instead of Glimmer in regards to the heart...those are the things that break my heart a little when it comes to this relationship. Even if it is helped by the fact that I know they’ll be closer than ever once they’re able to work things out. 

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: There really isn’t anything done with their relationship in fanfics I’ve read that annoys me, but I do get irritated when they’re tagged as a ship in the story and there’s like, a very brief and/or vague hint of them being together at one point, and that’s it. 

Things I look for in fanfic: Nothing too specific, really. I just like for them to be given some attention, even if they’re not the “main” pairing of a ship, and even if they do have any issues in the story, that they are able to work them out. Also, I tend to try and look for sweet stuff for the two of them, whether it’s fluff, hurt/comfort, or occasionally some more...adult stuff, though even with the adult content, I like there to be at least a clear hint that there is genuine love there, not just lust. 

My wishlist: Have to admit, I don’t exactly know what this is referring to? Is it what I hope happens with them in canon, or what I hope could happen with the relationship overall? If it’s the first option, then right now, I just want them to reunite soon - and for the reunion to follow the rule of three and be the most emotionally intense of them all, with them (at least) being very reluctant to let each other go. Following that, I just want it to be made clear that Glimmer and Bow are as close as ever, if not closer, even if the events of last season did add a layer of difficulty to their relationship. As for an overall wishlist....basically just hoping they actually realize just how much they care about each other, and are just...happy together. 

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: This is hard for me to say, especially for Glimmer. I mean, with Bow, I guess I could maybe see him with Perfuma? But with Glimmer...if you were just talking a short-term thing, like a fling, I’d probably say Catra, but I could see them being able to handle being in an actual relationship for long. Maybe Scorpia for Glimmer? I honestly don’t really have any alternative ships for Glimmer, I gotta be real. 

My happily ever after for them: Them getting married and being able to just enjoy being together without having to deal with the added pressures of the war. Ultimately, I just want to the two of them to be able to have a good life together, along with their friends and family, after the war is done and they don’t have anything too seriously to make them worry. 

Fandom Asks (Please)!

[magioftheseas]

What’s your opinion on each of the sdr2 boys? you don’t have to answer but I’d like to hear it so if ya want...

Well, since you posted how you feel about the SDR2 girls’ writing, how would you rank the SDR2 boys’ writing?

Oh man, one of these asks is so old but you’ll forgive me, right?

So, I’ll do both of these!!! The ranking btw is for the writing not personal feelings which I hope comes across because even if a guy’s at the bottom, that definitely doesn’t make him the worst boy!!! I swear! I SWEAR!!!!!!

Good Tier

Kuzuryuu - Definitely the most solid with development and everything. Wish it wasn’t piggybacking off of fridging Peko (and his sister), but ngl I’m always kind of a sucker of the shitty tough guy learning to mellow the fuck out, and I like Kuzuryuu also being like...probably the most mature of the characters, which is sad but also funny. (Overall opinion is that he’s good! Very good! Definitely worthy of Best Boy title if he’s your type!)

Komaeda - My boyyyyyy. Super intricate and interesting with a worldview that’s both simplistic and complex. I love him so, so much. And his attraction to Hinata is humanizing! Love that! Unfortunately, he’s still super demonized and having that happen to your character who is explicitly mentally ill is super uncool. Also, while I do like how and why he decided to die, I don’t feel like that death was worth him getting cut out and used as a prop for Nanami. If he had been kept alive, it would’ve been way better and less urghhhhhh. Or we could’ve, should’ve had more introspection as a result of the impact his character had, similar to what I wished for with Mikan. But, nah. Fuck changing your view as the result of being challenged, I guess. (Overall opinion is that I would die for him.)

Kamukura - Is being included because yes. He only appears briefly, but what’s there is just so interesting and good! He’s an empty person who is only driven by spite and revenge against those who wronged him, and yet it’s also implied that deep down, he doesn’t want to die. It’s so sad! But intriguing! His motivations are clarified in dr0 (such as the fact that he was framed by Junko for the murders of the student council, but also with the added implied bit that even HPA was prepared to kill him in order to cover their ass), but even so, it’s so deeply tragic that Kamukura was made for the sake of ego (both Hinata’s ego and the ego of HPA), and he found himself getting used which lead to him willing risk his existence to take down everything in one fell swoop despite that not being a guarantee. Wahhhh. (Overall opinion is that it sure is a shame WE DON’T SEE HIM EVER AGAIN, not counting TDP.)

Could’ve Been Okay But URGH Tier

Hinata - My other boy. He sure is the other boy. In all seriousness, Hinata *is* probably my personal fave of the protagonists even if I think the Naegis are better written. I love his conflict of having such a severe superiority complex that he’s willing to throw out everything about himself in order to live up to it. I love how his desperate need to prove himself is, like, to himself. He’s so self-centered in such interesting ways. Unfortunately Nanami is his prop and is given the emotional brunt of forcing his development, which sucks. (Overall opinion is that he’s definitely Kodaka’s self-insert but it’s free real estate when writing fics so he’s MY SELF-INSERT NOW.)

Twogami - THE BEST ENBY. Twogami was such a good character with several layers of tragedy and tbh they’re a major reason why it’s great that no one actually dies in sdr2 besides Nanami. There’s something about not having any identity to call your own so you try to be someone important but like...it’s painfully obvious you aren’t that person because you have strong morals and a good heart which powerful people often don’t have due to detachment and corruption. It’s something I can relate to. And as a character, that they gave their life to protect Komaeda was so heartbreaking. It’s such a good thing Twogami isn’t actually dead! Sadly though we do have issues with the writing because fat character obsessed with food, haha, but... I mean Twogami’s the only one like that in dr and Owari’s the same way for the same reason so I guess it’s not the worst...still iffy though. (Overall opinion is that they’re good! However due to being the first victim, they’re not given a LOT of complexity and what complexity they have doesn’t hold a candle to bby girl Sayaka Maizono but I mean they’re still a good character for what’s there.)

Just URGH Tier

Tanaka - Lmao, unpopular opinion alert but I just don’t think he’s very good! For one thing, he’s kinda...barely there for the longest time. He’s even the only character who has zero speaking lines in the first scene with the entire class. There are at least a few scenes where he contributes very little to the conversation. In general, he has little to offer until about Chapter 4, in which he makes up lies about how totally important he thinks survival is when that wasn’t really a major concern of his before and I’m PRETTY SURE he stole that from Nidai anyway. Super annoying but like, hey. At least that romantic subplot was okay. And, sure, if you like this character type, you could do worse. You could also do better. (Overall opinion is that I like his hamsters but that’s about it.)

Teruteru - He’s absolutely the most loathsome fucker that deserves more shit kicked out of him than any amount of sympathy, bUT... This is about writing, not about likability, and like, he’s written...okay. For one thing, his creepiness isn’t excused nor elaborated on, thank fucking god. But as for what’s actually there, it’s at least something. He’s got actual character traits that could potentially make him interesting, such as his shame about his background despite clearly holding a lot of love for it. Like, that’s a good internal conflict to have. If that was all there was, I’d be pretty partial towards him, especially with his design being very cute. Alas.................... (Overall opinion is that Kamishiro’s better.)

Souda - The comic relief for dgrp tends to be mean-spirited and of the guys, Souda is more comic relief than character so he tends to be a fucking asshole and a creep. It’s a shame because his backstory’s sympathetic but the dude has like, no character arc. He’s just...lucky in that he wasn’t killed. He also kind of forces himself into the social situations, namely with Hinata and Sonia which isn’t really cute when Souda doesn’t treat either of them that well. If you like his character type, eh... You can do much, MUCH better when it comes to bro-y kinda abrasive best dude friends. Again, you can do worse, but those are usually romantic comedies not like...whatever dgrp is. I don’t think I’d say that I hate him though. He’s just frustrating. (Overall opinion is that I think Yosuke Hanamura is more what this character should’ve been like.)

Nidai - I do adore Nidai but it’s so obvious that the writing doesn’t give a shit about him. It’s pretty painful. He’s inconsistently portrayed too, because sometimes he’s a compassionate and surprisingly perceptive guy who encourages others to push past their potential. Other times he’s a bumbling oaf who barely considers others because it’s more comedic. Any depth he could’ve had is often just relegated to shit jokes, figuratively and literally. Even his FTEs are painfully repetitive. Sucks, man. (Overall opinion is...me just sobbing.)

[ograndebatata]

Silver Linings

So... I’ve actually had this fic pretty much complete for weeks now, but I recently got motivated to polish it up and share it here, for... well... I’m not sure why, and honestly there may be many motivating factors, but... anyway, here it is. 

I hope you enjoy it. 

Note: Like pretty much every Elena of Avalor fanfic by me, this one takes place in my Tales of the Ever Realm AU. To give a bit of context on what it is, it’s basically an AU where all of Sofia the First is canon, and all of Elena of Avalor episodes until Snow Place Like Home (in terms of ‘timeline order’) are canon. Details and characters from later episodes will sometimes be used, but there are many important differences between my fic AU and canon.

One of those, as will be clear from reading this fic, is that in this AU, Ash Delgado has a genuinely and healthily loving relationship with both her husband and daughter (although we really only get to see the former in this one) and also is just a much better person in general, though still with a few traits of her canon self. I hope you will enjoy it for what it is, and I apologize in advance to those who happen to prefer the canon versions of her character and her relationships.

Also, I tried my best to make this fic strong enough to stand on its own, but I realize a few details may still come across as confusing. I apologize for that in advance as well. If you’d like any sort of clarification, please feel free to ask.

///

Note #2: There is some stuff in this fic that can be seen as slightly suggestive. Nothing full-blown NSFW, but still, there is a bit of steaminess. Those who aren’t particularly fond of such content want to tread carefully. I may be worrying too much over nothing, but... I feel it’s better to be safe than sorry.

///

Note #3: Although I tried my best to make it strong enough to be read on its own, this fic works better read as a sequel to @lostbutterflyutau‘s fic The Second Navidad, which she wrote for me as a Christmas gift last Christmas, and which I liked so much that I decided to make it canon to my fic universe. If you’d like to read it, I strongly recommend it.

And on that note, I say the same thing regarding all of her Elena of Avalor fics. They're full of well-written characters, great portrayals of feelings of all kinds, and wonderfully fluffy moments of the romantic, the friendship, and the familial kinds. I strongly recommend them all. Also, if you read them and like them, please take the time to leave her some feedback, even if it's only a few words. Remember that taking even only a few seconds to give feedback leads to better environments for fanworks of all kinds. 

With that said... let us begin.

///    

Silver Linings

The Kingdom of Norberg, February 14th, Year 9222 of the Ever Realm Calendar…

A series of sharp knocks cut through the cabin’s main room, making Ash Delgado jump in her chair as the sound brought her struggle with her focus to an abrupt end, ruining her already feeble efforts at forcing herself to study the weathered yellow page she held, trying beyond her best to find a solution to the dilemma she’d been struggling with for over a year.

One of her hands slammed the page against the table as her other one reflexively curled around her tamborita; the next instant, her ears picked up the last few knocks that rapped against the wooden boards. Her heart settled down as the force and rhythm behind the sounds told her who had arrived, drawing a relieved sigh from her as she released the drum wand’s handle. Ash looked up at the closed door on cue with its lock clicking as a key was turned inside it. The next moment, the door drew inwards, making her grimace at the chilly air that entered the cabin, followed soon after by her husband.  

“I’m home!” Victor announced as he closed the door behind him, before wiping a few fresh snowflakes off his shoulders and setting down a bag of canvas he’d been carrying. 

Then, as his eyes fell on her, still by the table she’d been sitting at since he left - though now with layers of pages scattered over its surface - a sheepish smile uneasily crawled across his features.

“Did I interrupt anything?”

A mock-annoyed smirk curling her lips, Ash teased, “Not this time.”

Besides, even if he had, his loud arrival was one of the safety norms that they and their daughter had established for whenever they stayed anywhere: to always make their presence known when arriving, to ensure they conveyed they weren’t any unexpected visitor. 

Still, the sheepish look remaned on Victor’s features as he unclasped his cloak and hung it on a hook beside the door, before walking over towards her. Smiling at him, Ash reached up to his face and settled her hand on his jawline as he rested his’ between her shoulder blades, closing her eyes as the two of them leaned towards each other and put their lips together. Cold seeped into her fingers as the mixed smell of salty air, tobacco smoke, cooked bacon and burned wood floated into her nostrils, but Ash kept her fingers on his face and pressed her lips further into his’, holding both her touch and her kiss for a few more seconds. 

Then, as she and Victor both pulled away and she opened her eyes, a faint chuckle bubbled up her throat at the sight she beheld. 

Victor blinked in puzzlement. “What?”

Suppressing another chuckle, Ash explained, “Your mouth is full of lipstick.”

Again. She inwardly added, as pointless as it was. Victor’s mouth or face ending up full of lipstick when they kissed was as big a given as water being wet or as the sun rising everyday. But Ash liked her makeup in the style she wore it, and she knew that for all his playful grumbling, Victor also did.

Giving an easygoing chuckle himself, Victor reached up with his free hand and rubbed it across his mouth, the faint dark-blue sparks she saw flying from his fingertips telling her what he was trying to do. Alas, the final results were different from the intended, the smear on his lips only spreading further across his face, bringing a stronger chuckle out of her.

“Here,” she said, removing her own hand from his jawline, silvery-grey sparks swarming around her fingers. “I’ll do it for you.”

Saying so, she swept her magic-filled hand over his face, the smudges of lipstick vanishing in her fingers’ wake.

“I guess this just shows I still need more practice,” he said good-naturedly as he straightened himself, caressing her ponytail along the way. 

He glanced around the room as he righted himself, then turned back to her and asked, “Did Carla leave already?”

“Princess Chloe asked her to go early,” Ash explained. “Apparently so the two of them can properly help Queen Abigail get ready for her date with King Hector. And Carla said that because she was spending the night at the palace anyway, she might as well stay over already.”

Nodding in acknowledgment, Victor walked over to her right and pulled up the chair beside her, sinking onto it with a pensive look on his face, the expression looking more pronounced thanks to his placement against the lit fireplace that burned a few feet away. Ash knew without having to ask that he was having a bout of the same struggle they had both endured since Carla had unintentionally struck up a friendship with the princess of Norberg. On one hand, it was good that Carla had made a friend, at least for the duration of their stay here. On the other, Norberg was a close ally to Avalor, and even if wanted posters of him and Carla hadn’t made it here yet (and weren’t likely to be sent now that neither of them had been to Avalor for over a year), it could still happen, especially given that Princess Chloe was at least a friendly acquaintance of Princess Elena. Or then, the Crown Princess of Avalor or someone closely associated with her could unexpectedly drop by and recognize him or Carla, which would at best mean they’d have to leave, and at worst might literally spell their dooms. And that was assuming none of their more dangerous enemies was lurking in the shadows, planning something that Ash could easily conceive as far more horrible than anything Princess Elena would ever do to them if she caught them.

But Carla knew she needed to be careful, and the three of them were making sure to keep an eye on anyone who seemed suspicious, just like their jaquin allies were doing. With luck, Carla’s friendship with Princess Chloe would just keep going without incident during their final two weeks or so in Norberg.

“How did things go at the harbor?” Ash brought up, out of genuine interest as much as out of a wish to change subjects. 

The deepening of Victor’s frown answered her question well enough, but still, he replied, “Not very well. There weren’t many sailors there, it being the day it is and all, and most of those I found were more interested in drowning their sorrows or seeking other forms of consolation than in talking about some mysterious kingdom.” As he caught sight of Ash’s own frown, he added, “No thanks to it being the day it is, I guess. After all, it was the same thing during Sweetheart’s Day in Avalor.”

Though that didn’t make her feel any better, Ash gave him a reassuring smile. After all, it wasn’t his fault that today was Valentine’s Day - or Dia del Amor y la Amistad, as her parents had called it, due to it being the holiday’s name in both Paraiso and Cordoba. Most sailors who’d ordinarily be in taverns or at the harbor were likely to be with their girlfriends or wives or families, and those that weren’t would either be too busy with work or too sullen at their lack of companionship to be in a chatty mood. 

“Was any sailor at all willing to talk?” she probed.

Victor shrugged. 

“Some were. But most of those couldn’t tell me anything about that place, and the only two that could didn’t tell me anything we don’t already know.” He stopped, his eyes clouding over as he mentally sorted out his words. “They said that that kingdom looks clean and calm enough from a distance, and the rulers seem friendly enough, but there’s just something under its surface that doesn’t quite make it an inviting place, and anyone going farther than the harbor automatically needs a full guard unit escorting them because of the land’s perils.” His frown deepened even further, his eyes narrowing to the point they seemed to turn into two black holes thanks to the shadows from the fireplace. “In a sense, it’s like a more extreme version of what I heard Avalor was like under Shuriki’s rule.”

Ash pursed her lips, the mere reference to that woman’s name making her temper flare. She might have come to terms with her husband having fallen for Shuriki’s lie that she could make him and Carla malvagos, but having that daemonfirma brought up in conversation still made her blood boil. Good for her that she was dead, because if Ash had gotten to fight her for a third time, she would have done everything she could to ensure their fight would end with Shuriki having a departure far more painful than the one Princess Elena had given her. 

Forcing herself to push aside the hatred that still burned at her, Ash said, “Well, at least we have more evidence that that kingdom is not a place where we want to stay any longer than absolutely necessary.” Her heart growing heavier, she added, “Unfortunately, we still need to go there.”

His forehead creasing, Victor gave her a sympathetic look. 

“Things also didn’t go well over here then?”

The tiredness and frustration from her mostly wasted afternoon rearing up like a striking snake, Ash let out a long sigh. 

“Yes and no,” she settled on.

Victor didn’t even blink at her response, his sympathetic look staying the same as before. 

Taking a deep breath to gather herself, she explained, “On the good side, I went over my improved potion recipes again just to be safe, and it held up again. The improvements I made will be enough so that neither of the potions will take quite as many moon cycles to achieve its purpose.” Her heart again grew heavier as she once more realized what it implied, but she forced herself to add, “On the bad side, there still are a few ingredients for both potions that just can’t be replaced with anything found somewhere else.”

Victor’s mouth again started to curl into a frown.

“So… that means…”

Ash nodded.

“There’s no way around a trip to that kingdom that seems out of a mix between a crime novel and a horror story. It’s still the only place where some of the ingredients we need exist, and God knows how long we’ll take to find them all.” 

Again, Victor narrowed his eyes so much that the fireplace made it seem like he had two black holes in his eye sockets. Ash narrowed her eyes as well, the weight of the implication hanging over her like a boulder sustained by the finest thread that was about to break. The idea of spending any amount of time in that kingdom was anything but pleasant. And having to stay there for who knew how long (at least a year, to give an optimistic estimate) only made it worse.

“And that’s not all,” Ash forced herself to go on. “It’s not even the worst part.” 

Victor sat the tiniest bit straighter, his eyes opening ever so slightly.

“What’s the rest?”

Her answer seemed to swirl around in her throat, as if trying to come out, but unable to find its way to her mouth for some reason. Though she knew Victor wouldn’t judge her or think less of her, and she had never lied to him, admitting to her failures or inabilities was not something she had ever or would ever like. After all, they were failures or inabilities, which Ash had always loathed, even back when she had just been Seentahna.

But despite being a dark wizard, Ash knew how wrong it was to be dishonest, especially to the man she loved, and she knew he felt the same towards her. Neither had ever lied to each other, and she wouldn’t be the one starting now. 

“I think we may be doing all of this for nothing,” she at last managed to say. 

Reading Victor’s question in the way his eyebrow moved up his forehead, Ash reached towards one of the papers on the table and lifted it aside, exposing a round purple orb around the size of an orange, the orb somehow feeling as heavy in her hand as if it was made of cast iron. 

“I can’t know for sure without looking at the Codex Maru, but the more I study this blasted thing, the more unlikely it seems that we will be able to channel its power as we want to, if we manage to fix it in the first place,” she explained as she raised the jewel. 

The words forced its way out of her like thick mud mixed with sharp knives. Just having to utter them made her heart sink almost as much as them being true. Another smile dawned on Victor’s lips, his hands moving over and curling around her right hand like a comforting blanket, his thumbs ghosting over her knuckles in a tender caress. 

“It’s alright, Pluma,” he whispered. “We can get through this.”

Despite the warmth in both his gaze and voice, the weight in her chest didn’t fade. She wouldn’t give up his support for anything, but what she really needed was a miraculous breakthrough on how to use the Jewel of Night, or on another way to recharge it. Ideally, both. Because as things stood now, achieving even one of her goals seemed borderline impossible. All means to recharge the Jewel of Night that she knew were difficult to put in practice, and many of the ingredients they would need to make both the potion that would repair it and the one that would recharge it (assuming they would manage to find a certain key ingredient for that one) came from plants and animals that had already been rare when she was a child. If even one of those had already gone extinct, they’d be right back where they started, and the Jewel of Night would be good for little more than to place on a shelf as decoration.

And even if they managed to fix it and recharge it, the only thing that might have anything on how to properly siphon its power into them was the Codex Maru, assuming that could be done in the first place. And to get the Codex Maru, they’d need to face Princess Elena, who could wield the Scepter of Light, and her Royal Wizard, who was Alacazar’s grandson and was all but certain to take after his grandfather if he’d managed to defeat a malvago powerful and skilled enough to cast the malvago-making spell on Victor and Carla at the same time and successfully pull it off. 

Whoever said malvago was, defeating him would have been an impressive feat for any wizard, but it was all the more so coming from a boy who hadn’t even been eighteen when he did so. And the boy would only have grown more powerful since then. Even now that Victor and Carla had grown much more powerful themselves, Ash knew the three of them would need a good plan and a very healthy amount of luck to get the Codex on their own. And if she had to guess, they would only have one try, because if they got caught, Princess Elena was bound to execute them all.

The thought hitting her like a blasting spell, Ash’s gaze snapped away from Victor, the fear that too often lingered at the bottom of her heart suddenly shooting up to the surface, her eyes wide as if to let it fly out. The next moment, twin caresses ran over the back of her hand, soft despite the roughness of the skin giving them. Though she knew where they came from without needing to look, Ash turned to meet Victor’s eyes, which still glowed with the same warmth.

“Let’s not think about that now,” he said. “Let’s think about something else.” 

An empty smile flitted across her face, her gaze turning away from his’. As if drawn to it, her eyes fell on the Jewel of Night, stared into its opaque depths, the emptiness within it seeming to remind her of how difficult their mission was, and yet how they needed to accomplish it if they were to ever be truly at peace. To think Victor made it sound so easy. To put aside something that their lives in a sense literally depended on, as easily as if it was a matter of deciding not to wear clothes they didn’t particularly like. 

“I’ve had practice,” he replied as if he had read her mind, a playful smirk on his lips. 

Against her wishes, Ash allowed herself a small smile. Quips aside, she knew that must be true. After all, he had managed to keep himself and their daughter alive and safe, despite having very few magical skills before he was made a malvago. More than that, he had managed to raise Carla as happy and well-adjusted as their circumstances allowed, and done a better job of it than she imagined most men and some women would. 

But that still didn’t change the main point.

“If we don’t think about it now, we’ll have to think about it later,” she insisted, even as she lowered the hand holding the Jewel of Night.

Her words came out tense, almost solid, but Victor simply kept giving her the same warm smile from before, rubbed his thumbs across the back of her hand again. Then, he rose from his chair and moved to stand behind her, taking his hands to her hair and releasing the knot in her hair tie, the tiniest sense of relief washing over her as a slight pressure left her head, her hair spreading out from its ponytail and cascading free to below the middle of her back. Though she couldn’t see him, she felt Victor smiling as he curled a hand around her hair, his other one gently scratching her scalp. A wider smile breaking through her lips, Ash hummed in delight, leaning back into her chair, guessing what he intended to do. As she expected, Victor lifted her hair so it wouldn’t be stuck between her and the back of the chair, his hands then settling on her head and running over her white locks like a hairbrush, spreading the strands apart and gently easing tangles and knots. 

A louder hum flowing through her, Ash tilted her head back as Victor pressed the tips of his fingers to her hairline, before gently but firmly running them back, tension falling apart in their wake as he caressed her scalp. 

“I know it’s difficult, Pluma,” he whispered. “Believe me, I had more than enough time to learn it on my own.” His voice shivered the slightest bit at those words, and Ash knew he was remembering his and Carla’s many close escapes over the almost fifteen years she hadn’t been with them. “But we’ll figure out how to use the Jewel of Night.” He ran his fingers over her scalp again. “And even if we don’t, we’ll find some other way to get rid of the Evergrowing Forest.”

Ash chuckled mirthlessly. 

“You talk as if the odds are on our side.” 

Running his fingers over her scalp once more, he replied, “I’d rather think I talk as someone who chooses to keep on believing things will get better. And as someone who was lucky despite the odds.” He reached downwards and slid his  thumbs in a half-circle behind her ears, bringing them forward rubbing them over her cheeks. “And more than once at that.”  

Frowning at the second sentence, Ash knitted her eyebrows as he moved his fingers back up to her scalp, rubbing continuous circular motions from her hairline to her nape. 

“I was lucky enough to meet you in the first place,” he went on. “I was lucky enough to run into you again and start to know you better. I was lucky enough to reunite with you more than twelve years after losing track of you. And I was lucky enough to reunite with you a second time almost fifteen years after we got separated again. And I could make a longer list.” 

Unable to help herself, Ash turned her head even farther upwards, literally smiling up at him as he looked down and gave her a smile of his own.

“I don’t suppose I could argue against that,” she replied.

His hands rubbed just a bit harder across her scalp, a sigh rolling out of her lips as relief surged from his fingertips and rushed through her. 

“I was lucky as well,” she added. “On all those accounts, and more.” 

Yes. Ash thought, sighing once more as he massaged her scalp again and relief rushed through her being once more.

Despite everything, she had been lucky. Probably luckier than she deserved after everything she had done. Not only for getting to meet Victor and getting to reunite with him a grand total of three times - or two, if she only counted those after they had actually started their relationship - but also for having a wonderful daughter who she loved and who loved her back, and for getting to be with them both and just be able to be a family despite the threats hanging over their heads. 

Victor must have read something on her face again, for he said, “So... back to not thinking of unpleasant matters for now… why don’t you put these things away, and I can tell you an idea I’ve had?”

A deep groan rolling from her lips as Victor’s motions suddenly reversed, she fake-glared at him.

“You should know by now that I don’t take orders from anyone.” 

She felt his hands temporarily stop their movements as he shrugged. 

“I prefer to look at it as an invitation.” His massage still halted, he crouched to whisper in her ear. “Though it’s one I confess I would very much like you to accept, mi amor.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?” she breathed as he straightened himself up, a deep sigh flowing out of her. “Very well. What is it?” 

“Uh-uh-uh!” he tut-tutted. “I’m not seeing anything put away...” 

Her eyes narrowed at his response, a low mock-grumble joining her change in expression. He really knew her a bit too well. 

“Watch out, Victor,” she teased. “You don’t want to fall prey to the stereotype that men can’t keep a house.” 

He again ran his fingers through her hair, the white locks parting in their wake. “It’s more like I don’t want to go against how you like to be the one putting your own things away, especially when it comes to magical studies.”

Another affected grumble rippled out of her mouth. Again, he knew her too well. 

“Very well then,” she conceded, her fingers curling around her tamborita’s handle.

On cue once more, Victor withdrew his hands from her hair and curled them over the sides of her chair, pulling it back exactly as she stood up and drew her drum wand, then aimed it at the table’s surface. 

“Llévaluq!” she chanted as she smacked the drum.

Identical silvery-grey glows bloomed around each page spread over the table, as well as around the purple gem she’d been studying for hours. Ash fiddled her fingers as if she was playing a harp; the papers bent and swerved and turned over the table like flying carpets before settling into a neat stack, the gathered pile of pages then flying into the shelf behind her with a beckoning motion from her hand. The Jewel of Night followed in their wake with the same gesture, but swerved slightly to the right and upwards, stopping its course once it hovered above a small, seemingly ordinary light yellow jar with rectangular Maruvian patterns of a darker shade over its surface.

She directed a look at Victor as she held the jewel in place. The next instant, he drew his own tamborita and aimed it at the jar. 

“Piikrete tarruyniu waaygico!” he chanted, punctuating each word with a smack on the tamborita.

After the last smack resounded through the cabin, a dark-blue glow bloomed around the drum as Victor raised his hand, the jar’s lid floating about a foot off and allowing Ash to slide the Jewel of Night in. Hearing the low clatter of it landing, she holstered her tamborita as Victor lowered his hand, setting the lid on its place.

Sliding his tamborita into its own holster, Victor turned to her with a smile, reaching out with his left hand. “Now, where were we?”

Taking his hand, Ash replied. “You were about to make an invitation.”

He raised his arm in response, in time with Ash twirling in place, her hair fanning out as she completed her spin and then stepped towards Victor’s chest as he drew her to him, wrapping both arms around her as he settled his lips on her neck. 

“I was thinking…” he halted his words to kiss her neck “...that you could wait here while I run you a nice warm bath…” he kissed a slightly higher spot “... and then you take the time to enjoy it while I cook a special dinner with what I brought…” So that’s what’s in the bag! Ash thought as he kissed below her ear “... and then we could have our second celebration of Dia del Amor y la Amistad.” he finished, tenderly kissing her cheek.

Her eyes widened at the words, her heart leaping slightly in her chest. Their second celebration! Amidst her frayed nerves after repeated failures with the Jewel of Night, she had completely forgotten about that! Not about the celebration they and Carla had had that morning - after all, it had been the first time the three of them properly celebrated Dia del Amor y la Amistad since her return - but about the second celebration that was meant to be just for her and Victor, which they had even talked about more than once over the previous days. 

I really need to stop thinking about that jewel if it can make me forget something like that. 

Victor chuckled as if she had spoken her words rather than thinking them, the curling of his lips telling her that he was cooking up a joke. 

“You know, as far as stereotypes go, it’s men who are said to forget romantic celebrations…” he brought up. 

Despite the laugh at his quip, Ash reached back and nudged Victor’s nose with her index finger. 

“Watch your tongue, Mister. If I get annoyed, you’re going straight to the couch tonight.”

He gave her a melodramatic gape, put a hand to his chest. “Oh, the horror!...”

Taking her chance, Ash twisted out of his embrace and then pressed herself flush to him, wrapping one arm around his shoulder and sinking her other hand into his hair as her lips leapt upwards to claim his. He engulfed her in another embrace, resting his hands on her back as their mouths met. For a heartbeat, their lips started to glide over each other’s, both reading the other’s intention to take things slowly. But then, like alcohol meeting a cinder, their passion seemed to explode through their bodies, leaping the frustrations this day had brought them both as their lips devoured each other time and time again, each trying to both drain their pent up tension and help the other with their own, somehow wanting to put out and build the fire flowing between them at the same time. Awareness of everything faded into the background as they devoted every bit of their focus to the flutter of each other’s hands and mouths, to the feeling of each other’s touch, to the warmth of their kisses. 

It seemed to last an eternity before they drew apart, looking into each other’s eyes like hypnotized, as if they were floating. 

Then, despite herself, Ash burst into chuckles, taking her hand to her lips in a token attempt at suppressing them.

Amusement twinkling in his own eyes, Victor curled an eyebrow and blew through his pursed lips.

“I’m full of lipstick again, right?” 

Her suppressed laughter slowly fading, Ash summoned magic into her other hand and waved it over Victor’s face, the lipstick smudges dispelling under the sparks swarming around her fingers. 

Lowering her hand as she let the magic fade, Ash drawled, “So… that warm bath?”

“Coming right up,” he replied with a mock-casual tone and a warm smile as he lowered his arms. 

Realizing she would need to let him go for him to run her bath, Ash pulled away, following him with her eyes as he headed to their cabin’s small bathroom. 

A warm bath sounded nice indeed. While cleansing charms could do the job just as well, and far more quickly, they couldn’t equal the peaceful feeling of sinking into the warm water and feeling it melting the tension from within her, making her stop thinking about the day’s concerns better than the best mind control spell. 

It wouldn’t really make them go away, she knew. However good this night was, their concerns wouldn’t become any less real, and the Evergrowing Forest would remain a threat to their lives until they managed to destroy it.

But at least tonight, Ash would enjoy what she had to be thankful for.

[imnotcreativeenoughtomakegoodurl]

Dean X cop! Reader: Soulmate AU - Part 1

Genre: Dean X Reader, fluff (??), soulmate AU, slight angst/whump (if you squint)

Warnings: Description of injury/blood (let me know if I missed any) Summary: 

Summary: This is based on the soulmate AU where any unnatural markings or blemishes (cuts, bruises, stains, marker, ect…) on your body will show up on your soulmate’s body. You got the short straw with whoever your soulmate was-This crazy bastard was always getting the holy hell beat out of him. Waking up in the dead of night feeling like a truck had just run you over went from terrifying to extremely annoying as time went on, but you always did your best to stay safe after one of those nights. However, being a homicide detective, “safe” wasn’t a word you got to use often.

          “Back again?” The doctor asked, flipping through the clipboard Janice had left on the door. 

          “Don’t worry Dan, Janice has already patched me up and just wanted you to check me over before discharge in case this is anything like last time.” You explained, casually rolling up your shirt to show Dan your several bruised ribs and what once was a deep gash in your side. 

          You were in and out of the hospital so often that you were on a first-name basis with the majority of the staff and even friends with several. It was almost routine for you to walk- or even be carried in at least once a week with an assortment of bruises, open wounds and the occasional broken bone. They often joked that once you met your soulmate they would thank him or her for giving them such a dedicated customer, that is if your soulmate didn’t get themselves or you killed anytime soon. There have been several times when your soulmate must’ve made the choice to fight a bear or something because more than once, you’ve come in half dead. 

          "Looks all good to me, (Y/N)," Dan said and you rolled your shirt back down. 

          He signed your discharge form while you gingerly slipped on your coat and detective badge. Dan indiscreetly watched the detective badge glinting on your belt disapprovingly as he walked you to the front desk. 

          "Hey, you gave me the all-clear, doc. Besides, if I don’t leave now, I’ll be late.” You said as you slid the paper across to the desk for Oliver to look over. 

          “Are you sure you’re ready to go back to work? Right now, today? I mean, I discharged you but that doesn’t mean you should pass up some bed rest.” Dan advises. 

          “I really don’t think there’s a point, Doctor.” Oliver sighs, handing you back some papers. 

          “I’m sorry but, Oliver’s right, Dan.” You feign an over apologetic tone, slipping the papers into your bag while walking backwards “There’s been more of those creepy homicides and the PD needs all hands on deck. There’s nothing I can do.” 

          “Oh, that’s bull and we all know it.” Oliver calls out, making Dan snort. 

          “Hey, whose side are you on, Oliver?” You demand. But halfway out the door you turn back and joke “Don’t worry though, I’ll be careful. My soulmate really doesn’t need another injury!” 

          When you make it to the precinct no one needs to ask why you’re late. Your soulmate problems are a well-known routine here as well. You slide into your desk but before you can even begin to crack the surface of the mountain of files before you, your secondary rushes over, brimming with enthusiasm. 

          “So primary, what’s the plan for today? Check-in at the crime scene? Take a look at those corpses firsthand? Interview suspects? Well, I suppose we should properly look over the security footage we just got-“ 

          You have to grab Natasha's arm to get her to stop bouncing around. “Let’s tackle one question at a time. I know this is your first homicide case as a detective and it’s starting to get pretty damn interesting, but we need to keep our heads clear.” 

            You look Natasha in the eye and half expect to see her pupils vibrating out of excitement. When they don’t and she just nods so hard that her blonde ponytail almost flops over her head, you sit her down and continue; “So, what do we know about the killer, Palmer?”

          You’ve barely finished your question before Natasha starts chattering away “Again, you can just call me Tasha, I’m not big on formalities. It’s so weird y’know-“ 

          “Tasha?” 

          “Right, the killer. They first struck a week ago and killed Patricia Davids and Brian Lee We know their MO is to kill a man and a woman within twenty-four hours by stabbing the victim’s brain through the eye sockets. The man and woman are usually involved romantically in some way, so we’re thinking that the motivation is love and the killer is someone with a vendetta against romance. Have you found out anything else on this lead?” 

          And once again, before you can respond Natasha gets sidetracked "This works so well! This whole call and response thing where we bounce clues around is never something I got to do as a cop! I-“ 

          “Well I’m glad you enjoy this tactic, Tasha, but it’d kind of dead in the water if only you get to respond.” You explain, feeling slightly guilty when she sagged a little at getting shut down for the second time. 

           You leaned in conspiratorially and as expected, Tasha’s excitement came flooding back as she leaned in to listen like a schoolgirl being let in on a secret “I went and checked out each victim's itineraries leading up to the homicides and got a connection: The last time each couple was seen together was at Vicci’s Diner. I was thinkin-“ 

          “What’s so special about Vicci’s Diner?” An unfamiliar voice asked from behind you. 

          Slightly ticked at the fact that more reporters wanted info on the murders, you put on your best passive-aggressive smile and turned. 

          Two men you guessed to be in their early to mid-thirties, wearing layered overclothes and muted colours looked down at you. The taller one had a longer hair and slouched a little, almost like he didn’t want to intimidate anyone with his height. The shorter one had green eyes that were fixed on Natasha and you could’ve sensed from miles away that he was about to hit on her. 

          “I’m Sam, this is Dean.” The taller one introduces “We’d like to ask some questions about the Davids and Lee case.” 

          “I’m sorry, but as I’ve told the several other reporters; we’ve already had all the information we’re allowed to disclose published so you can go and check that source.” You said through a gritted smile before turning your back on them. 

          “Well, can’t you tell us again? We want to hear it straight from the source.” Dean says a little too automatically, giving away that they had coaxed info out of people one too many times. 

          “What was the crime scene like?” Sam asks, hot on Dean’s tail “Did it maybe smell odd? Did things not add up? Any weird patterns?” 

          Tasha opens her mouth eagerly to answer but you didn't trust Sam's bizarre questioning and their rundown attire showed that they weren’t reporting for anything too serious. 

          “Well it’s a murder scene so things did smell a bit fishy and if things added up we would’ve found the killer- I’m sorry but I didn’t catch what news publishers you were reporting for.” You pointed out, watching the men’s eyes meet and Dean crosses his arms across his chest to seem more authoritarian as he prepares to deliver what you know is going to be a lie. 

          “Who’s the primary?” Sam asks, now addressing the two of you and dodging the question. 

          “Oh, it's not me.” Tasha answers placing her hands proudly on your shoulders from behind “It’s detective (Y/N) (L/N).” 

          Dean looks almost surprised, as most people do when they find out that someone like you is a high-ranking detective. For some reason, it ticked you off more when Dean didn’t think that you were one to solve double homicides than it did anyone else. 

          Great now the lack of sleep from bleeding all night was making you seek approval from a total stranger. 

          “Damn okay, I was expecting your pretty lookn’ partner to bee the primary but I can see how you could’ve fought your way to the top.” Dean smoothly dishes out a compliment with a smirk and once again you can tell that this is something he did often. 

          Sam elbows Dean and resumes the one-sided questioning “Could you tell us something about Vicci’s Diner maybe? Has anything like this ever happened before in this city?” You sigh and stand up from your desk. 

          Placing a hand on each of their backs you turn the boys around and guide them to the exit “Vicci’s Diner is a really nice place downtown that had some great soup and occasionally carters to the homeless. Personally, I would recommend their grilled cheese and I would also like to work on the case so I actually have some new information to give you ‘reporters’.” 

          You gently nudge them out the precinct doors and scribble your address and number onto a scrap piece of paper “Now I don’t know who you guy actually work for but if you really are that desperate for a firsthand account swing by at night and you guys can help me finish my pie while we talk.” 

          The door closes in the Winchester’s face and you hurry back to your desk, massaging your temples.

           Did I really just give two complete strangers my address? God, what is wrong with me today? 

          Outside the precinct, Dean memorizes (Y/N)’s address before pocketing it. “Quit pacing Sammy, we got an address, it’s fine.” 

          “Yeah, we know where there’s a connection, but the detective didn’t give us any clues on whether or not it’s supernatural.” Sam opens the Impala doors and awkwardly clambers in. “Maybe we would’ve if you didn’t scare (Y/N) off with your questions. You might as well have been screaming “hey do you think a ghost killed those lovebirds?’” 

           Dean starts the engine and the loud banging of a drum solo fills the car. Sam can barely hear Dean when he waves the address in his face and says triumphantly “And I wasn’t talking about the diner’s address; I just got the address of a cute cop who just invited me over for pie because I gave one compliment. What do you think I could get if I bought them a couple of drinks?"

          "A restraining order," Sam mutters as the car takes off. 

          The break room in your precinct had been transformed in the last few hours into a mess of loose papers and gruesome pictures connected by thread beautiful mind style. The cuff of your shirt was indefinitely stained with dry erase marker from the frustrated wiping blank of the whiteboard every time a lead didn’t pan out. 

          You took a swig of room temperature coffee as you reread the ME’s report but the words seemed to have lost all meaning in the 2AM stupor you were currently swimming in. You absent-mindedly run your hands over the puckered line on your skin where your soulmate’s gash had been patched up in your stress and sigh deeply. 

          “What are you still doing here?” One of the night shift detectives asked, poking their head through the crack in the breakroom door “Go home, you look like a mess- and so does your workspace.” 

          “Thanks, Nosellla.” You snap, picking your way across the cluttered room to shut the door and other distractions out. 

          Nosella wasn’t wrong though; you had bitten your nailbeds into raw oblivion and had to band-aid a few fingers. Your hair stuck up at the front and became an impenetrable net at the back from all the times you had run fingers through it and you didn’t even need a mirror to know that you had some killer bags under your bloodshot eyes. 

          Between your soulmate’s antics and this impossible case, you would be lucky to have gotten twelve hours of sleep in the last week. Maybe it was the stress or sleep deprivation or just delusions in general but you rolled up your sleeve and stood by the sink with a washable marker. 

          When you were a kid, you and your soulmate would hold little conversations by writing messages on your arm for the other to see and washing it off to leave room for a response. 

          You wouldn’t be surprised if you were called in to do a psych eval tomorrow for leaning over a running sink with a red marked poised against your forearm. The mess around you must not help your case either but what the hell-you were desperate. The paranoia sent you down a spiral of wondering if your soulmate- one of the only sure things in your life right now- was out there and alive. He had stopped responding when the beatings started getting really bad and you hadn’t “talked” in decades. 

          “Hey guess who?” you scribbled and instantly dunked your arm under the water like one would toss away a phone after sending a risqué text. 

           “I was starting to think that you’d disappeared until it felt like someone was trying to rip off my fingernails today. Are you okay?” 

          Your heart soared and you let out a breath you’ve been holding since the marker first touched your skin. 

           You washed off his black ink and wrote in place: “I’m fine, just stressed. Since I have you “talking” I have a question for you actually.” 

          "Shoot," He wrote 

          “I know you wouldn’t tell me when we were kids because you said it was dangerous but we’ve both gotta be adults now, right? I mean you wouldn’t even want to get close to me as we grew up because apparently any connection at all could be dangerous. I kinda want to know who on earth my soulmate is yknow. All I know is that you’re an adult male who has a habit of getting the shit beat out of them. I want to meet you one day, hopefully soon?”

          It takes him much longer to respond this time and the letters appear haltingly, without the usual ‘no looking back’ penmanship that you were used to. “Listen meeting my soulmate sounds great but look at the hell I’m putting you through without even meeting you. I could never put you through what I have to do every day and people who I talk to have a habit of getting hurt.” 

          Your heart clenches for him but you must resist the urge to roll your eyes. “I already go through everything you go through if that hasn’t toughened me up then my job certainly has. If what you go through is hell than what kind of soulmate am I to just stand here and live in blissful ignorance?” 

          You can feel that he’s pressing the pen harder into his skin as he rushes to finish his statement in his annoyance “It’s complicated, what do you think this is a fairy tale? You can’t just rush into my life like a knight in shining armour and expect to come out in one piece.” 

          Your phone pings and you check it one-handed as you run your other arm under the tap. The stakeout crew that you had stationed by Vicci’s with Tasha had just texted you about a suspicious car that had parked across the street behind the diner but stayed stationary with the engine idling and no one entering or exiting. 

           “Haha, yes!!” You exclaim out loud at the news of a concrete lead and possible suspects. 

          You quickly text the team to take photo evidence but not to engage until you got there and end the unfulfilling conversation with your still nameless soulmate: “I’m still here aren’t I? Trust me when I say I do have field experience with getting near-fatal injuries. Speaking of my job, duty calls but please consider trusting me. We are soulmates and I’d hate for you to actually die one day without me even knowing your name.”

          “Who said anything about me dying?” 

          “Call it gut instinct.” 

          Under a shadowed overpass you tap on the window of the stakeout car and it whirs down to reveal Tasha’s always grinning face. “You took long enough, (Y/N).” She whispers. 

           “Sorry.” You apologize glancing around for eavesdroppers before continuing: “ So what’s the deal?” 

          “Well, they know what they’re doing.” Tasha says with an edge to her whispers “They parked somewhere dark so we couldn’t really get their profiles or see what kind of guns they pulled out of their trunk. But it looked like this wasn’t their first time going into a dinner heavily armed.”

           “Good to know.” You say, eyeing the suddenly sinister diner “Tasha vest on and with me. We’ll go in and split up and you two be ready to call for backup on my call.” You order the team in the car. 

           You slip on the familiar weight of your Kevlar vest and draw your firearm. Tasha grins at you and gives you a manicured thumbs up and you smile tensely and nod. 

          This could be the day you make the biggest break of your career, but despite this, you think back to your soulmate. You think of the hell he refuses to put you through, wherever he is right now, while you’re hunting down a pair of potential serial killers, and you change your mind. This could be the day you prove to your soulmate that you have the balls to walk through hell with him. 

          It’s now or never; You quietly push aside the yellow tape barring off the retro diner door and step into the dark reception area. You almost gasp when your eyes adjust to the dark and see an enormous silhouette no more than a few feet from the nearest booth. You barely have time to load your gun when: 

          “SAM DOWN!” 

          A click, a flash and a bang and you’re blown off your feet as the shot hits you square in the chest.

[cassercole]

the one with the band

SHIP: PROCTOR-ROGERS FAMILY FEELS  RATING: TEEN WORD COUNT: 2,943 PROMPT: Just a fun little prompt with Steve and Tristan -- his younger son!  TAGGING: (permanent tag list): @whindsor​ @hrhatbat​ @fraysquake​ @sgtbuckyybarnes​ @elenacarinandherfandoms​ @chuck-hansens​ @luucypevensie​ @mystic-scripture​ @perfectlystiles​ @allaboutocs​ @anotherunreadblog​ @witchofinterest​ @hvproductions​ @heirsoflilith​ (WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?)

Steve was well aware of how his teenage son was sneaking out at night. And it wasn’t even late at night sneak outs that he had assumed he would have to deal with, no. Tristan would leave after dinner with no word as to where he was going or when he would back. And right through the front door -- not even through a window like the countless movies and tv shows had prepared Steve for. 

The first couple of times, he let it slide, thinking his son had at least told his mother where he was going. But when he mentioned it to Q, she told him she had no idea where Tristan was going. 

“Why does it matter? He’s back before curfew.” she shrugged while she finished loading the dishwasher with the plates from their earlier dinner. 

“Yeah and when did you get back from your teenage antics when you were his age?” he asked, leaning one hand on the counter. 

“Before curfew so my parents wouldn’t suspect anything, then I would sneak back out after --” she cut herself off, staring at the open dishwasher for a moment as her words caught up to her. He gave her a pointed look, waiting for the realization to hit, “Oh goddamnit.” she sighed heavily, closing the dishwasher rather dejectedly and then meeting Steve’s look, “We should’ve just stopped with Bonnie. We didn’t realize how lucky we were, not having a kid like me.” she sighed. Steve rolled his eyes at her dramatics, knowing she was just fishing for a compliment but not focused enough to give her one. 

“I’m gonna see where he’s going.” he told her, pushing off the counter to go get his hoodie from the chair at the table. 

“I want to tell you to not to, but if he’s anything like me, he’s probably in a liquor store putting alcohol into his purse.” she sighed again, annoyed that those genes out of everything were the ones that were passed on. Steve gave a dry laugh as he zipped up his hoodie, 

“Or in the city, pit-pocketing some rich Wall Street guy.” he added, reminding her of another thing she used to do in her youth. 

“Or plotting a break in to a highly secure government facility, then being found with a dead body and a literal smoking gun.” she continued, making Steve pause and look over at her, “Too soon?” she grimaced, knowing it wasn’t. He shook his head, moving over to give her a quick kiss goodbye.

“I’m sure it’s nothing more than a study group.” he tried to calm both of them down with something rational that their son could be doing. She scoffed at his comment, knowing that wasn’t true. 

“If only.” she sighed again, giving him another kiss before he turned to leave.

As with most things in his life, modern technology had made finding Tristan much easier than it would’ve been years earlier. While he did feel a little bad about tracking his son, the fatherly instinct to make sure he was okay outweighed the guilt. Except it only returned when he figured out where exactly Tristan had been going. 

The coffee shop in the small town was dimly lit, but plenty crowded as Steve opened the door. Curious to see what was going on, he looked over the sea of people who were all looking in the same direction. Up toward the front of the shop a band was taking their places, all of varying heights and styles, armed with different instruments. It was easy enough to spot Tristan standing to the left of center stage; with his lanky, tall frame and the wild dark curls he had earned from his mother. Surprisingly, he had some sort of electric bass slung over his shoulders and was pretty expertly picking at chords while the rest of the band warmed up. 

“Hey, hi,” one of the other members of the band stepped forward to the mic and quieted the crowd, “Hey, we’re Blanket Statement and we’re gonna get started with a couple of covers first and then play you guys some new stuff that our bassist, Tristan, wrote.” the front woman explained the show. Surprise seemed to be the theme of that evening as Steve learned that Tristan was not only able to play the bass, but also in a band. One that had a seemingly large fanbase for the small town they lived in, and was talented enough that he even wrote some songs. He stayed where he was as the band started to play the first of the few covers they had prepared -- two songs he had heard before, a long time before when he lived in DC with Q, and was pleasantly surprised at how good they sounded. The Tame Impala cover the girl sang seemed to be the one people looked forward to the most, and the one Tristan seemed to be having the most fun playing. (Of course it was one of Q’s favorite songs so Steve wasn’t surprised by that).

Then came the songs Tristan had apparently written. Steve waited with bated breath, not knowing exactly how they would sound. It wasn’t like he or Q had any sort of creative writing bone in their bodies. Sure, sometimes Steve would try writing poetry now and then, but it wasn’t one he fostered like his art skills. But musical ones? Nothing. Nada. He remembered seeing a guitar in Q’s apartment in DC however long ago, but it had a thin layer of dust on it like she never ever picked it up. Though, as on theme with the night, he was pleasantly surprised and rather impressed at the songs his kid created. And couldn’t help but grin to himself as Tristan leaned close to his microphone to sing backup with the lead singer. 

Of course Steve would be proud of his kids no matter what, but watching his son share his talents and musical gifts and actually look like he was having fun for once in his life ignited a bright flame of pride behind Steve’s sternum. Seeing Tristan pluck at the bass and groove to the beat he was creating was something he never could’ve imagined happening in a hundred years, but he suddenly couldn’t imagine Tristan doing anything else. It was perfect for him. 

Not wanting to be caught, Steve ducked out before the show finished. He made his way home where Q was waiting up for him in their bed. He found her reading some sort of trashy romance novel that would do nothing but give her ideas (ones he would be happy to participate in), but when he walked into the room, she marked her page and pushed her reading glasses up to the top of her head, 

“You find him?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Mhm.” Steve nodded, wanting to tease her a bit as he shrugged out of his hoodie and then pulled his shirt over his head, “Guess where.” her eyes widened a bit at his tone and she pushed the covers off of herself, 

“Noooo, don’t tell me he was dropping balloons filled with colored powder off the roof of a building at pedestrians.” she groaned a bit, making him laugh.

“Nope.” he crawled onto the bed on all fours, “He wasn’t doing anything illegal.” he assured her, flopping down onto his back so his head hit the pillow, “He was at that little coffee shop on Wyndmoor.” he gestured vaguely to the direction of the coffee shop, moving on once Q nodded, “Playing bass. In his band.” he stressed, raising his eyebrows up and watching his wife’s face for her reaction. Her eyes widened at the word, then her mouth opened a bit at the imagery, then she pulled the corners of her mouth down -- nodding a bit as she thought it over, 

“I can see it.” she commented and Steve laughed a bit, “Were they any good?” 

“Really good.” he admitted, shifting on his pillow so he was a bit more comfortable and still able to make eye contact with his wife, “They covered that Tame Impala song you like,” she gasped a little at the mention, “and he even wrote a few songs himself. Hopeless romantic stuff, you know.” she awh’ed at the theme of their son’s songs, nudging her husband a bit,

“He gets that from you, you know.” he scoffed, rolling his eyes, but knowing she was right. She grinned at him, leaning over to give him a quick kiss. 

“Think he’ll ever let us come see him play?” she asked, almost hopefully. The pair looked at each other, letting a moment pass before both of them burst into laughter at Q’s ridiculous question. Their son would never let them come watch; they’d ruin his ‘cool factor.’

Still, that didn’t stop Steve from at least sneaking into Tristan’s shows. He enacted the undercover protocol that kept him safe for the year or two that he was an enemy of the government but still wanted to see his wife: dressed in dark clothes, hood or hat always on and pulled over so enough of his face was covered, and he didn’t talk to anyone. He was able to just stand in the back of whatever coffeehouse or underground bar they were in and listen to his son play his songs. 

Though his cover didn’t keep for long. One night, he had gotten there too early, which meant Tristan spotted him. He watched his son do a double take and then the easy smile slid off his face, replaced by the stoic -- almost annoyed, expression he usually received from his youngest. God, sometimes he reminded Steve so much of Dawson, it hurt his heart a bit. They would’ve gotten along so well.  

“What are you doing here?” Tristan asked once they were close enough to talk and not cause a scene. His eyes flicked around like he was afraid someone was going to see them, “Is Mom here too?” 

“No, no, it’s just me. We found out you were in a band and I just...I wanted to come see you play.” Tristan’s eyes returned to his, looking doubtful but still annoyed. 

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” he scuffed the toe of his Converse against the ground and Steve chuckled,

“No, actually I don’t.” he admitted and Tristan scoffed, glancing away from him, “It’s a nice way to spend a little quality time with you.” he added. They didn’t do much together as it was; Tristan didn’t like baseball or running like Bonnie did. Steve had a hard time finding something they could do as a father-son duo. If this was as close as he was going to get, he wasn’t going to let it pass him by.    

“What if all our songs are about how much we hate our parents?” he eyed him skeptically, testing him. 

“Then you would’ve told us about this much sooner.” Steve volleyed back with a small gesture to the stage. Tristan rolled his eyes, but fell quiet for a moment, 

“No, Dad, this isn’t cool. This is my thing, okay? I-I don’t want you here,” he raised his shoulders up while Steve tried to ignore the flash of hurt at his words, “I mean if someone recognizes you…” he trailed off, only semi-voicing his insecurities, but it was enough to let Steve understand. 

“I’m not trying to steal your spotlight.” he assured his son. He wasn’t even sure if anyone would really know who he was anymore. The world had moved on. There were bigger and better heroes around. He was just content to tend to his garden and go to his kid’s mini-concerts as a random middle-age (or older) dad. “I just wanted to see you play. Or hear you. Or whatever.” he got an eye roll from Tristan, who then shoved his hands into his pockets. He let his kid mull over what he said for a moment. The teen shook his head, letting his wild, dark curls flop around, then heaved a heavy sigh,

“Fine, whatever, but the moment someone asks to take a picture with you --” he pointed a finger at Steve, who raised his hands up in the air, “that’s it, Dad. Seriously. Just stand there. Don’t move. Don’t talk. Just watch.” 

“Deal.” Steve agreed to the terms, hoping this coffee shop was dim enough where that wouldn’t be a problem. Tristan eyed him for a moment longer before walking away to rejoin his band. 

As much as it killed Steve not to cheer along with the crowd, he tried as hard as he could to respect the rules Tristan put into place. If only because he didn’t want to miss one of the shows. Just like he hadn’t missed one of Bonnie’s track meets or the weird improv shows she did with her community group. 

Though he ended up breaking one of the rules by accident after one of the shows Tristan played. While waiting for Tristan to finish up his mingling with people who stayed after the show (Steve was now driving him to the sets), he saw his son talking with a rather pretty girl. His immediate reaction was to take a picture to show his wife later, but as much as technology had improved his life -- it also made it a lot worse. The constant updates had his settings all out of whack which meant when he tried to take a sneaky picture, the flash immediately went off. And he was caught. 

Having enough time spent in the field, Steve knew how to quickly exit a bad situation. He exited the coffee shop and headed toward his car, hoping that Tristan hadn’t realized what he had done. But a sharp, loud, “What the fuck, Dad?!” coming from behind him in his son’s angry tone proved him wrong. 

Steve froze, then winced, knowing he had messed up and now had to deal with an angry teenager. Really, he’d rather deal with Bruce’s other persona. Much easier to talk to than a hormonal, angry teenager who already disliked him as a base feeling. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was just trying to commemorate a moment.” he held his hands up in defense, but Tristan ignored the look of innocence. 

“Fucking bullshit, Dad.” he snapped out, “You just did the creepiest thing ever. This is why I didn’t want you to come to these!” he gestured back to the coffee shop and again, Steve felt his heart sink a bit at not being wanted by his son. All he wanted to do was support him.

“Plenty of people were taking pictures, Twist.” he used the nickname he used to use when Tristan was a kid, “I was the only one who had the flash on.” he admitted his mistake, making Tristan groan. He fell back on one foot, twisting his torso away from Steve a bit as he looked up to the night sky,

“God! Dad! This is unreal! You can’t just be, like, a normal dad?!” he gestured frustratedly at his father. Steve made a face, tilting his head to the side a bit,

“I feel like this was a very normal dad thing to do.” he pointed out and Tristan groaned again, shoving his hands through his curls, 

“This is so fucking embarrassing.” he muttered under his breath. He turned away from him, heading back to the coffee shop.

“At least let me take you home.” Steve offered, but Tristan didn’t even pause,

“I’ll get a ride!” he called out from over his shoulder. Steve opened his mouth to try and convince Tristan to change his mind, but Tristan spun around on one foot, spreading his arms out wide as he continued, “I think we’ve had enough quality time tonight, Dad.” he shoved the knife a little deeper into Steve’s chest.   

After getting home and being made fun of by his wife for not knowing how technology worked, Steve waited up until Tristan got home just to apologize to him again.

“Dad, it’s fine, okay? Just let it go.” Tristan disregarded his apology, heading for the stairs as Steve followed, 

“So when’s your next show?” he asked, trying to be casual but Tristan shrugged, not giving him an answer, “Can I come?” he asked with a slight eyebrow raise.

“Fuck no.” Tristan scoffed out, “Not after tonight.” 

“Twist, come on.” Steve put his hand on the railing and the other went to rest on his hip, “I just want to see you play.” 

“Why?” he asked, turning on the stairs to look down at his dad, “Why is this so important to you?” he raised his shoulders up, looking rather angry and annoyed by his dad taking an interest in his activities. 

“Because I like...seeing you excel at stuff.” Steve answered, apparently giving a wrong answer by the way Tristan glared at him,

“Oh, so I’ve just failed at everything else then?” 

“No, Trist--no, Jesus. I mean, it’s great to see you doing something that you’re good at and that you love.” His son eyed him warily for a moment, fiddling with the edges of his flannel as he turned over what Steve said, then nodded slowly.

“Alright, yeah, okay.” he turned away from his dad, heading back up the stairs to his room.

“So can I come to another show?” he tried again, more hopeful this time. “Won’t even look in your direction, promise.” he added on to entice him. 

“Ugh, fine, whatever.” Tristan agreed, sounding annoyed, but he agreed. And Steve was going to go to every show he could.

[roloko-karlstein]

S+: 

Final Fantasy IV and Final Fantasy IV: The After Years - my favorite games in the FF franchise it had a pretty damn good story and the characters were really memorable to me. Also its home to two of the few best OST that has Uematsu has composed Red Wings and The Four Fiends. On top of that I really loved how the sequel adds another layer of strategy with its lunar system. I know people hate the sequel cause of how it was spit into multiple episodes you had to buy, but as a person playing the PSP version where the all the stories were all bundled into one price it was actually pretty fun to see how and what the characters has been up to all this time and some fresh faces in forms of either children or comrades of the old IV cast.

S:

Final Fantasy VI: I love this game its my second favorite FF title. I think my favorite thing about it was at different times you controlled different party members it wasn’t just Terra the whole time. Also the fact anybody can learn magic so in a pinch you could use your offensive characters to heal. Who can forget the opera scene and the Dancing Mad song? Instant classic songs

Final Fantasy Type 0: My third favorite game in the franchise. I know that is an unpopular opinion, but I just love the setting and how you can control any character cause its their story and not like a specific character (Ace). Every character has their own weapons and way of fighting I really love using Cinque,Jack, and Trey. I know people hate using her cause she is slow, but I feel like its all about timing she is super strong honestly. I never finished it nor a new game plus where I think it ends differently than the first playthrough. I love the battle system overworld battles play more like Tales of while the missions play out like XV’s battle system, but I think better honestly.

A: 

Final Fantasy X: My fourth favorite FF title and if I remember my very first. Touching story and I love the characters. The only real flack I have is unskippable cutscenes even in the remaster. It really makes it annoying when facing two certain bosses.

Final Fantasy IX: My fifth favorite FF title. It had quite a few memorable characters and fun games on the side. I really liked its story too. The final boss really came out of no where I still think it should’ve ended at Kuja, but whatevs.

Final Fantasy VII: This one is a classic which is why it made A rank. I’m fairly certain the remake will be S or S+ tier with how they are expanding on characters and the story (I will cry over Biggs,Wedge, and Jessie I can feel it you know its coming, but I bet Square will pull out all the stops to get us to like them)

Final Fantasy Rhythm games: My other favorite genre after JRPGs which is rhythm games. I love the little chibi characters!

B:

Crisis Core: Its a nice prequel and the ending was really good I remember first playing it I cried even though I knew it was coming. I really like the song “Why” that plays during the credits

Final Fantasy V: Only reason it is below A rank is cause I never really got far in it. And both times I played it I only made it to the part where we find out about Faris and Lenna’s relationship. Job system was pretty cool and was an upgrade from III.

Final Fantasy Record Keeper: For a mobile game its pretty good and the gatcha was I think for weapons and not for characters.

Final Fantasy VIII: I actually like the junction and drawing system it was new. The final boss fight would leave me on the edge of my seat cause the final boss I think draws all of a certain type of magic from you every other turn so it was basically a battle against time. This series had more of a modern day/futuristic vibe to it. The only reason its a B cause I didn’t really care too much for the story.

Final Fantasy II: Its an easy game after hitting yourself for two hours straight. No really. After I got past the first part of the game I find that ya know it isn’t THAT bad of a game kinda tedious at the start to get your stats up there, but after that it really is smooth sailing the rest of the game.

Final Fantasy: It is only at B rank cause this is where everything began even if the game play is simple and the characters have no name and there really isn’t much of a story

C:

Final Fantasy X-2: I think its nice that we get to see a more light hearted story for the most part, but I don’t think this was really necessary. Has one of the best battle systems in the franchise though I have fun playing it and it does have some really challenging fights. 

Final Fantasy XIII: I don’t think its bad as what people make it out to be its honestly an average game and the story is alright. 

Final Fantasy Brave Exvius: I used to play this game and the event stories that would come out were really good, but if you do not have 6 Star characters with super strong equipment you would never able to finish the story. Also from what I’ve heard its not even harder to obtain lapis to draw for characters. Gatcha has been going downhill and the events harder which is why I eventually quit.

Final Fantasy III: I haven’t gotten far, but I don’t really care too much for how you can only have so many spells for each level. I think I like V and X-2 more since you can actually learn all the magics by using that class in battle.

World of Final Fantasy: Meh...thats all I gotta say I want to kill that animal thing “THE this” “THE that” if I want to hear shit like that I would go watch Teen Titans Go

D:

Final Fantasy All The Bravest: Again not as bad as the fandom says it is and I breezed through it in a week. I guess I can see why people are ticked though. $1 for a character and it might not even show up in your party. 

Final Fantasy XII: I’m thinking about giving this another chance honestly. I wasn’t a fan of the gameplay or license board.

Final Fantasy XV: Probably one of the biggest disappointments since me playing XII. I payed full price for both AND bought the strategy guides which was not cheap. While XV is better with its gameplay the story felt really rushed and had some of the worst romantic subplot I have ever seen compared to any previous Final Fantasy. Noct had more development with his fellow chocobruhs than he ever did with Luna.

The Dissidia games: I’m not a fan of fighting games I think what I liked most about these were different heroes/villains interacting with each other.

F:

Dirge of Cerberus: Terrible game play, Terrible story, I got motion sickness extremely easy, all around bad game.

Final Fantasy XV mobile game: I never played it, but I have seen ads for it and I’m like really? REALLY?

[adamjamesglass]

Roswell, New Mexico Ep. 11 Malex

Liz said something that made me think about Alex and Guerin. “Don’t give up on me so easily next time.”

That is what I am having problems with in this relationship. Everyone is giving up so easily. I don’t watch this stuff to give me a love story based in reality. I want the unconditional love, the fighting for your soul mate, that … je ne sais quoi. But I’m not seeing it and I want that.

One thing that frustrates me is the moment when Alex is with Kyle and Kyle basically tells him to talk with Guerin. I took it as a means to get your relationship back on track. But Alex goes there and talks about the alien stuff. I said this in my last post. He tried to be strong and not run away anymore, but he still is. He didn’t talk about what he should have. He should have talked about how he felt and what he still feels. I want him to be vulnerable and tell Guerin that he needs him even if he is scared of being rejected.

I mean if Guerin really cares about Alex, why doesn’t he fight for him. Obviously Alex is scared, of what, I don’t know. That’s what has bothered me through this whole thing. He does not seem like he likes being gay. But the message is getting mixed for me. We are humans and have complex emotions, so I can see him saying one thing but feeling another, but it’s just weird to me. He seems to want Guerin and stands up for him to his father, so what is the problem? He’s not wanting recognition anymore. At least it doesn’t feel like it. Everyone knows, I don’t know how, but suddenly they all know even though he wanted it kept secret from Isobel. That’s the other thing that annoyed me. It feels like it is being written as they go. They wanted one thing from Alex in the beginning. Hiding who he was, then all of a sudden he’s not anymore.

I wanted to discuss the ten-year gap as well. It just doesn’t work well for the story they are trying to tell. Not just the Malex story, but the overall story is destroyed by this gap. But to continue with Alex and Guerin, I feel that Guerin should have been with Maria in the beginning. Only because it would have been a better love triangle. The one they are doing now is manufactured. Because Guerin loves Alex, at least that is what they have said and shown, more than anyone. When Alex comes back, Guerin could be with Maria and then sees Alex. He cheats on Maria with Alex, before Alex knows of the situation. Alex finds out and is angry. Alex says they can’t do it again, and can’t be together Maria is his friend and he doesn’t want to hurt her like that. But then Guerin sees that he could have the love of his life back. He confesses to Maria that he is in love with Alex. Then he goes to Alex and Alex says ‘that’s not how this works. You lied and cheated.’ So now Guerin has to earn trust from Alex that he loves him and Alex has to talk with Maria. Then, being the kind person she is, will say ‘just go for it.��  

Guerin does not love Maria the same way as Alex, so this wanting to go to her isn’t strong enough in my eyes. I guess we could say he is trying to find solace in someone who has a close connection with Alex. Maybe that is what he is doing, but I actually don’t think that. But it would be an added layer to what is happening. I don’t think the writers are good enough to think that deep. (Sorry that sounds mean) They just want to make drama. If I’m wrong, I’ll admit it. I feel this is just to cause tension.

Another problem I have, and I think this is because they are telling too many stories at once, is that I don’t really see their friendship. During the whole show they don’t talk that much but are supposed to be great friends. I need to see more of that. Because If they aren’t that good with each other, maybe she would date Guerin.

If something more happens between Maria and Guerin I need Maria to go to Alex first and talk to him. If they are these great friends. Guerin has said that it is over with Alex, but she needs to go to Alex and really talk to him about it. Even if she likes Guerin, a good friend would see how Alex is suffering and she is not in love with Guerin. If she was, this would have happened a long time ago. They tried to set it up in this episode that she does want him, but it’s not enough for me. Girl, you had ten years to do something. Don’t start now. This doesn’t work on so many levels.

When I saw people posting about it, I don’t mind spoilers, I thought that they decided they would be together. That’s not what happened in the episode. It was just setting up that Maria does have feelings for him. What are those feelings though? They aren’t as strong as Alex and Guerin’s because she didn’t do anything for 10 YEARS. I’m sorry I keep going back to that because it is a major hole in the complete story of the show.

I was afraid going into this episode that Maria and Guerin were getting together. I was about to not watch the next episode and just listen to what people were saying. But listening to others almost made me not watch this one. Again, it looks more like it is setting up something, but nothing has happened yet. Hopefully Maria will be that good friend.

I’m still stuck on one thing, unconditional romantic love. I like seeing this. I want Guerin to have this for Alex. I want him to fight for Alex and I want Alex to fight for him. I don’t want these characters to be weak, and they are coming off as weak to me when it comes to relationships. They seem afraid of trying more.

One last thing I wanted to comment on was labels. That was the most asinine tripe I’ve heard. You say ‘why are we labeling’ and then go and label yourself. What? You said it yourself, you’re aliens. You don’t have human restrictions. You can do what you want. Your sexuality is your own. I don’t think Guerin is gay or bisexual. Has he slept with other guys besides Alex? I want to say no, because when he talked to Max, he said Alex was the only one. He screws him up. I took that to mean the only man. Guerin isn’t bi or gay or any of the other nomenclature. He’s just him.    

[decadentboat]

That replies post again

Lets start with a qt Kirara bc almost nobody liked how she died lol.

I had to log in here in the laptop. Since it’s not mine I don’t feel comfortable... So far I’ve been posting and replying via phone which is an eternal hassle.

Again, thank you from the bottom of my boat heart for your kind messages!!(boat heart emoji bc I can post them here lol)

.....I’m sorry I didn’t realize I had missed so many of them!

@mdlouie No prob!! I think it’s totally OK to start with student grade supplies. I mean, buying artist grade right out of the bat it’s not wise in my own opinion since it doesn’t guarantee their particular propieties will be benefitial to you(Like there are watercolor brands that are super easy to re-wet and very vibrant, but they tend to be kinda lifting so layering may be difficult, other brands are the opposite) There is always a learning curve with art supplies, whatever the grade they are. To me, learning using both of material grades is not a waste of time, new adquired knowledge will never be a waste of time!

Now, what I didn’t come to agree at first but now I have to admit it was a big improvement is to use cotton watercolor paper. In special for characters with dark skin like Chouchou. I struggled so so much with having a flat wash on the skin, and I blamed the watercolors(The pigments, because earth color pigments tend to create granulation) But for example this:

The wash on her face came out really nicely! I think you can have both papers(I def have more of the student grade/not proper watercolor paper than the artist grade/cotton haha)And practice on both.IMO watercolor is a lot about water control but also a lot of learning where to place your brushstrokes. Practicing your brushstrokes in cheaper paper is good bc you don’t have that fear of ruining expensive paper with your practices. Water control is better to be practiced in the expensive one. Uhm I hope I’m making sense!

@letherebewisdom Aw! Thank you!! I defenitely don’t want to stop yet!

@kiagumo Perdón por la gran demora en responderte!! No, no! Muchas gracias a ti por dibujarlos!! Sé que dibujo mas de lo necesario y probablemente alguien piensa que eso me basta pero no...NO! Yo también quiero ver fanart, quiero ver dibujitos lindos de mis OTP!!! Que alegria que uno de tus ships favoritos sea Mitsucho, porque tu arte realmente es muy lindo!!

Por cierto no necesitas pedirme permiso para dibujar algo que te interese de mis dibujos! Si deseas puedo dibujarte un diseño de Metal y Shinki playeros jajaja. Muchas gracias, de verdad fue un dibujo muy precioso!! *bote llorón*!!

@alinakz-97 Well, your guesses could be right. I’m def curious lol!

@mdlouie Yay for them indeed!!

@miss-akimichi It’s Chouchou! I added to much red there haha. Perhaps the sameface syndrome is strong in me. But when I draw Karui I try to make her eyes sharper and her skin darker than Chouchou.

@sugarriene I think I read Choji being scared of lizzards somewhere! Maybe Chouchou is scared of snakes? I still think it was a little weird but 100% sure that’s...all in my head lol.

Now, what I meant with medic...Or perhaps should I have said doctor? Like Sakura or Tsunade being perpetual doctors... In special Sakura that has it as her daily job. I can’t see Inojin like that(Maybe a little with Mitsuki because of the team 7 karma... I’m still unsure of this. The biggest mystery of Boruto is who is going to get the frog and the slug... Since it looks like everyone is getting snakes XD) I wish the Yamanaka flower shop being a cover for the sensing division was brought up sooner in the manga because it’s damn cool(Someone correct me, or was it added after the Pain attack?) The future I see for Inojin is being that handsome guy that runs the flower shop and he is seen painting ocasionally, but it turns out he has this secret agent thing going on.

BTW anybody remembers the Nara being skilled in medicine/pharmaceutics? Why are they never the medics of their teams? In the prev gen it was understandable since Ino’s ability was more in the support side, but the current gen, they are very able to haddle by themselves(Considering both Shikadai and Inojin inherited other techniques like wind release and the beast scroll)

Welp, I didn’t want to write this tldr haha. I may be wrong with this reasoning, I just hope I’m not straying out too much of the facts.

@hotmonkeelove Let’s hope they show more Anko interacting with the kids. I keep thinking there must be a reason why Chouchou and Anko were afiliated aside from “lol chubbies“ I want SP to deliver but they have dissapointed me so many times...

@ascrolluponthemoon  I think it would be cool! And honestly I think snakes match their personalities better. Katsuyu for Mitsuki? Their colors match and they are both very polite but it feels wrong xD? Same with Sarada and HOT BLOODED ACTION Gamabunta(Or is it going to be Gamakichi?) Dunno, feels weird, but it is one of the things I’m looking forward to see.

@nite-baron Thank you so much for your hard work!! I’m looking forward to it.

@miss-akimichi  Yes!! Defenitely. But you have to babysit the sites and its annoying. If I find cute Mitsuki and Chouchou merchandise, I will let you guys know. Just in case it might interest you alll and you want to get it before it’s sold out lol.

@miss-akimichi No prob! Thanks to you for posting such cute headcanon! I...uh.. I was drawing a comic but I’m unsure of posting it. They came to be a little touchy with each other since they are married adults and stuff(Defenitely it’s not nsfw! But I can see some people be bothered with it haha) Perhaps I will post it under a read more... or simply ask you guys if you want me to post it.

@mdlouie Thank you!! You are very kind! We are def better! At the very least we recovered our voices XD Since it’s a virus, you have to wait for it to pass. But yes, we are better now.

@flyflywingedbear -_- Yeah me too! Its painfully obvious the Mitsuki arc is just an extender for the anime not to catch the manga. Who is popular? Mitsuki? Well, let’s drag the story with this LONG arc that promises to focus on his background but it turns out we will not touch it haha. The max offender was both the OP and the ED XD We got a bunch of cute inoshikacho moments and development tho, I can forgive those parts. But for a “Mitsuki arc” it lacked of the Mitsuki POV. How many episodes had to pass for him to say he felt like he was not reaching his friends? I felt cheated and offended. As expected of a series named Boruto, son of Naruto.

Thank you so much for the cutest messages in the lastest comic! I told you this was going to be very cute XD The only reason why I felt to doing more than the Valentine one(Which is more romantic, also they are a tad older, like 13 to 14)

[oneharry]

bestfriend!harry part two??? mhmmm

IT’S FINALLY HERE

I HOPE YOU ENJOY

IT’S A BIT DIFFERENT BUT I’M TRYING TO GO SOMEWHERE WITH THIS

HERE’S PART 1 BTW

Y/N is frantically running aroundthe apartment, trying to pick up some of the mess. They’ve been pretty carelesswith the way they kept the flat lately, because well, she’s a busy woman, andHarry still seems pretty down. He offered to pay some of the rent, which hedidn’t even have to do. She doesn’t want to ask for more.

She also tries to hide theembarrassing things laying around (like the outstanding amount of wine bottlesin the recycling bin, the cheesy workout DVDs, some corny romance novels andthat huge, neon-coloured vibrator Perrie got her when she came back from herJapan student exchange five days ago, to name a few). What’s left clutteringaround is mostly Harry’s, now, and as much as she doesn’t want to bother him,it needs to be cleaned up.

“Harry,pick up your shit a little, will ya?”

Harry mumbles out an unclearresponse from the sofa. The sofa, or what’s been primarily used as his bed forthe past three weeks, now, at least on most nights. Some nights, Y/N’s notsleeping at home and he gets to sleep in her bed. Some other nights, he gets tosleep in her bed for no good reason. She’s not out. She’s also in the bed.

Harry gets up from where he’s beensitting for three hours’ worth of How IMet Your Mother. He takes his time stretching his arms, groaning, as Y/Nwalks by to pick up some of the clutter and prods her fingers in his left side.It results in him bringing his arms back down quickly, yelping.

“Ow! Hey, don’t do tha’.” She laughsat his reaction.

“Then help me out a little, yeah? Idon’t want Sam to be repulsed by your mess.”

He chuckles and bends over to pickup some dirty clothes from under the sofa. He stands back up for a while andlooks at Y/N with a smirk.

“Ya really think a few hoodies lyingaround can keep a man from liking you?” he asks, cockily. “Geez, Y/N, do youeven know yourself?”

She sighs and rolls her eyes, whilehe actually awaits a response. She can’t help but smile at him.

“I know we’re married, but noteveryone feels the way you do towards me. Some people don’t even like me, canyou believe that?”

After Harry’s breakup, him and Y/N –who had also hit a (much smaller) wall herself after a series of datingmisfortunes – jokingly suggested that they should just marry each other. So,for the last couple of weeks, their lives have been punctuated by the aftermathof that tipsy inside joke: “Turn that shit down, sweet lumpkins, m’tryna take a nap,” “Yo, soulmate, did you make coffee?” and “Would you mind taking out thetrash, my sexy mystery rain man?”

Before Harry’s previousrelationship, Y/N always called him affectionate pet names on a more seriousnote. She does that with a few other close people in her life (mostly Perrieand maybe Liam) but it was way, way more frequent in Harry’s case. She stoppedabruptly at one point, he pretended not to notice. He did find it disturbingthough. But nothing else changed, so he didn’t think much of it. They now somehowmanage to bring it back ironically.

What’s even more ironic though, isthat they can joke about being in a very committed relationship, but they nevertalked about that kiss on the first night after the breakup. They also nevertalk about the multiple other occasions on which kiss happened. They,correspondingly, never talk about the cuddles, the very close, non-platoniccuddles, how Harry isn’t even ashamed of enjoying being the little spoon (whichhe was in his past relationships), and how when he isn’t the little spoon, heholds Y/N close enough so at some point she definitely feels his thickeningmember through his sweatpants or boxers, but she says nothing at all. They bothdon’t say anything, like they’re just friends who do that, like that’s a sanerelationship to have, like it can just bea thing. It’s all eating Harry alive.

The pet names, how the back of his stomach kind of bubbles up when shecalls him love of my life, no matterhow many layers of sarcasm there are, it all hurts. He’s angry that he can’tun-taste her lips and tongue, that he can’t un-live that enthralling momentwhen they absent-mindedly made out listening to Tame Impala, he kissed down herchest and abdomen and came strangely close to eating her out. It all messeswith him more than anything ever has.

“Listen, there’s some behaviours I’dlike for you to adjust,” Daphne said, fixing the slim strap of her clutch bagaround her body.

Y/N’s first thought is to somehowbelieve that Daphne must be drunk, but she quickly reasoned with herself,remembering that her and Harry just got here. The Yorkshire woman actually usedthis occasion – her asking for a moment alone with Y/N in Liam’s room – to dropher jacket on the bed with the others, specifically next to Y/N’s. Y/Nswallowed, annoyed, thinking that her jacket will probably smell likecigarettes for days if she didn’t wash it right away.

“What’s that?” Y/N asked trulyintrigued. Daphne chuckles, innocently.

“Can I ask you this – and I reallydon’t mean to be rude – but why would you even call Harry pet names?” Y/Nshrugged.

“Because I care about him, I’d say,”she replied. Daphne nodded along as she spoke. “We’ve been friends for years,we developed nicknames for each other, and stuff.”

“No, I get this. S’just that Harryhas a girlfriend now,” Daphne said while waving at Y/N, like she was trying tosignal her presence, like Y/N didn’t notice her enough. “Dunno, it’s weird. Youreally don’t feel weird about it at all? Calling someone else’s boyfriend ‘honey’ and ‘love’?”

“I don’t think of it like that. It’snot a romantic gesture. I call Perrie and Liam ‘babe’ all the time and they’re both in relationships.”

“That’s different.”

“How is it different?”

“Well for starters,” Daphne clearedher throat, leaning against the edge of Liam’s desk, trying not to display howannoyed she was, “you’re way closer to Harry than to anyone else. Also, Perrieis straight. She couldn’t be attracted to you. Liam doesn’t date girls either.”

“He does, though. He’s bisexual.”

“Well, his partner doesn’t seem toworry about you.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know, you’re friends.”

“Not really. We don’t hang out. Onlywhen I’m with Liam and he’s there,” Y/N paused. “He just likes me, I guess. Isthat the difference?”

“Y/N, I don’t hate you.”

“Yeah, but you don’t like me. Youdon’t have to like me, Daph,” She walked up to Daphne, who actually didn’tsmell like cigarettes. She smelled annoyingly good. “I know you’re not reallyfond of me, I’m not that stupid, I see it.”

“Y/N…”

“I understand it can freak you out abit that I’m so close to your boyfriend. I respect you, so I’m going to cut thepet names, but you need to understand that Harry and I love each other. Not inthe way that you and him love each other, at all. We’re best friends and wecan’t put everything we’ve had for the last eight years aside to leave room foryou.”

Daphne just stared at Y/N andnodded. She hated that Y/N was right. Her and Harry have a thing that she willnever understand, but that she has to deal with.

“I’m sorry Daphne, that wasincredibly harsh.”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” she chuckled. “Youand Harry have a thing. I don’t want to come in the way of that. I just need toadjust myself to that. I’ll be fine. Thanks for understanding, I see why Harrycares about you so much.”

She was cut off by Louis knockingand opening the door without waiting for a response. He stopped moving abruptlywhen he was greeted by Daphne and Y/N’s straight faces.

“Am I interrupting anything?”

“No! We’re all done,” Daphne replied,grinning. “We were just chatting.”

“The room is yours,” Y/N added,getting up, walking out and patting Louis on the shoulder, “you and Liam canbang all you want.”

Louis laughed at Y/N, and Daphnesighed. She hated how everyone liked Y/N. She was likeable, and Daphne had noreason not to like her, except wishing her own relationship with Harry was asprofound as his friendship with Y/N. All Daphne could do is be friendly, toeveryone, which she already was. Perrie once described her as annoyingly sweet, which was prettyaccurate.

She got up and tapped Louis’ shoulderas well.

“Just make sure you remove the jackets from the bed before you do thedirty, yeah?” That made Louis laugh.

“No,” Harry said.

“What? No to what?” Y/N asks,confused.

Harry realises he actually had beenpondering on his own for a while and that the context was lost. He chuckles.

“I find it hard to believe thatanyone would not like you.”

“I know some people who don’t likeme,” Y/N responds, cleaning the dining table.

“Really? Like who?”

“Your ex.” Harry sighs. She pointsat a towel on the floor for Harry to pick it up.

“Daph didn’t hate you.”

“But she didn’t like me. Pick up thedamn towel, love.”

Harry can’t think of any way torefute that. Daphne always wanted to be nice, and she never wanted to deceivehim. She always found a way of convincing Harry that she liked Y/N when she soobviously didn’t. She tolerated her, and she was always publicly sweet to her,but it seemed like chore, like community service. Yet, she was somehowirreproachable. The reason it looked so much like she was doing it against herwill was hard to pinpoint.

Harry reaches down for the towel andY/N playfully spanks him as she walks behind him to get to the bathroom,probably to get ready for her date coming over. He is a bit startled at first,before becoming angry at himself for getting slightly turned on. He wonderedwhen those interactions became so normal.

“My back hurts today,” Harry said,out of nowhere, really. “Dunno. Probably slept weird.”

Y/N gazed travelled from the tellyto her new unofficial roommate, who was shifting on the couch, trying to find acomfortable position. He was clearly dropping hints that he didn’t want tosleep on the couch tonight, for what literally would only be the fifth night inthe week and a half he had been staying here, but she pretended not to knowthat. She decided to push the tension even further, slightly amused.

“Want a massage?”

Harry’s whole body tensed for half asecond, but he then played it off like it was no big deal at all, like thethought of it didn’t already make something in his chest feel swirly.

“Yeah, sure. F’ya want.”

He turned around a little so hisback is facing her and cracked a big smile as he felt her hands start to rubhis aching back. His shoulders dropped a bit and she chuckled.

“We should get you a propermattress,” she suggested. “Maybe at least an inflatable one. This sofa sucks.”

Harry winced as Y/N’s fingers workedon a bad knot at the bottom right of his back. The throbbing pain slowlyworsened before suddenly stopping, getting him to exhale loudly in relief. Herhands were incredibly soothing. She was very good at massages; despite beingpersuaded of the opposite.

She scooted a bit closer to him, andsomehow, without seeing it, he sensed it. He felt a sudden heat around him anda shiver up his spine. His back tensed up slightly. Y/N laughed.

“Hey, relax.”

He took a deep breath and tries tofocus on the television, but Y/N touch made it harder than he thought. She keptkneading his back until she felt like he was finally relaxed (which he neverwas, his body felt like it was on fire). She then leered and ran her fingers onthe back of his ribs. He wormed around a bit and giggled loudly.

“Ah, Y/N, tha’ tickles!”

She snickered and he turned around,with a defeated sort of pouty smile. She, for some reason she didn’t want toconnect with, found that smirk extremely attractive, and her body absentmindedlykind of stopped all activity to just, stare,and Harry didn’t really react. He stared back, his face slowly approaching hers.

After their lips locked for a shortthree seconds, they looked back at the screen almost in an inhumane manner,like there wasn’t a single feeling involved in the kiss. In reality, Y/N wasactually weirdly overwhelmed, and Harry had a whole entire Big Bang in hischest. But they don’t talk about that.

As their movie ended and the creditsrolled, Y/N turned off the TV and yawned.

“M’going to bed,” she mumbled, stretching.She slowly got up and lazily walked to the bedroom. Harry just silently staredat her. She looked back at him as she stood in the room’s doorway.

“Aren’t you coming, H?”

Y/N touch, lately, feels like thebest thing to ever happen to him. But it’s weirdly narcotic, and he feelshimself starting to actually crave or even need it. She fills that need,always. It’s like she senses his lust and actually wants to quench it. It’salmost like she also feels it, sometimes.

Harry throws the towel in thelaundry basket by the bathroom door and smiles to himself. She didn’t need toslap his butt just now. She did it anyway. And every time she kissed him, shedidn’t need to.

It feels so natural, like there is absolutelynothing unusual of off about them showing that kind of affection towards each other.No word has to be said. Maybe it’s a rebound. But he was already confused atthe end of his relationship with Daphne. Maybe it’s loneliness, because they’resurrounded with so much love – Perrie is already planning on buying a condowith her boyfriend, and Liam just loves his, and gushes about him so much he’son that thin line between adorable and irritating – and maybe they crave thatsame sensation.

He wants those small things (andbigger things) to keep happening. And he wants them to happen with Y/N, and Y/Nonly, somehow. He denies the obvious reason why. But what he is fully consciousof, is that Sam is coming over, and he despises the thought of her with anotherman. He is very, very aware of that.

[richincolor]

Group Discussion: Love, Hate & Other Filters

A searing #OwnVoices coming-of-age debut in which an Indian-American Muslim teen confronts Islamophobia and a reality she can neither explain nor escape–perfect for fans of Angie Thomas, Jacqueline Woodson, and Adam Silvera.

American-born seventeen-year-old Maya Aziz is torn between worlds. There’s the proper one her parents expect for their good Indian daughter: attending a college close to their suburban Chicago home, and being paired off with an older Muslim boy her mom deems “suitable.” And then there is the world of her dreams: going to film school and living in New York City—and maybe (just maybe) pursuing a boy she’s known from afar since grade school, a boy who’s finally falling into her orbit at school.

There’s also the real world, beyond Maya’s control. In the aftermath of a horrific crime perpetrated hundreds of miles away, her life is turned upside down. The community she’s known since birth becomes unrecognizable; neighbors and classmates alike are consumed with fear, bigotry, and hatred. Ultimately, Maya must find the strength within to determine where she truly belongs.

Review copy: ARC via publisher

Welcome to the Rich in Color discussion of Love, Hate & Other Filters. **Beware, there are some spoilers ahead.**

Crystal: There are so many reasons for me to love this book. Maya’s voice had me from the very beginning with the words, “Destiny sucks.” Her wry humor had me smiling so many times. Her passion for creating movies is also awesome.

Jessica: Seriously, what an opening line. Maya’s voice definitely grabs you from the get-go. I didn’t think of this until you brought it up, but the way Maya’s passion for filmmaking provides yet another lens for her life is fascinating. I’m looking at the cover (what a great cover), and what the title means is finally registering. I know, I’m a little slow on the uptake. Maya see her life through the filters of love, hate, and the narrative bent of filmmaking. And, on a meta level, the reader sees Maya’s life through her romance, the Islamophobia that harms her, and the snapshot moments of other people’s lives leading up to the terror attack and its aftermath. It really paints a complete picture.

Audrey: I agree, I really enjoyed Maya’s voice and the frequent camera/filmmaking references. Her little asides about how things would go if this were x sort of movie were fun. I really enjoy reading about characters who have passions that seep into many corners of their lives, and Maya’s habit of filming things was a great way to establish her character (and plot-relevant). Sometimes the best way to get to know a person is to dive deep into the things they geek out about, and Maya’s passion for filmmaking was a great way to get to know her.

Karimah: I liked Maya’s voice as well and agree with you Audrey that her “teen movie” asides were great. It gave us a great insight into who she is and how she sees the world, and I truly connected with her. I giggled a couple of times at some of her comments and loved that she had a great sense of who she truly at such a young age.

Crystal: Maya is facing several challenges because of family expectations. Her dreams do not exactly match up with their dreams for her. The love in the family is easy to see, but that doesn’t mean there is smooth sailing. In some ways it makes it even more difficult. It’s hard to go against the wishes of people who love you and want the best for you. I adored Maya’s aunt. If we all had a Hina in our lives, what a wonderful world it would be.

Jessica: I think what really grabbed my heart early on is Maya’s introduction of Hina, where she says that despite being so different, Hina and Maya’s mother are actually best friends. This really set the tone for me of how much love Maya had in her family. Her parents may have had very specific ideas and goals for Maya, but you knew that in the end, they would come to accept what made Maya happy — just like how Hina and Maya’s mother are best friends.

And of course, on the surface, Maya’s parents seem unreasonably strict, and Maya struggles against those restrictions. But when her parents shut down and rule out Maya’s dreams, not out of a desire to control her, but a desire to keep her safe in the aftermath of a terrible event, you can again tell that they do it out of love, even if they aren’t necessarily right. I think anyone – especially anyone from an immigrant background – can recognize that parental instinct, those warnings to keep your head down, do the safe thing, don’t stand out, stay safe. That really hit home for me.

Audrey: As an adult, when I’m reading YA, I often find myself torn between the parents and the teens. On the one hand, I totally get why Maya’s parents have those expectations for her and why they’re so upset when she springs her own desires on them; on the other hand, I sympathize with Maya wanting to forge a life outside of those expectations. Hina was a great character, not only because she often took Maya’s side, but because she established a model for Maya to follow. Hina is living proof that Maya can build a life that suits her while–someday–forging a more equal relationship with her parents.

I really empathized with Maya’s parents’ fears after the terrorist attack and how immediate the backlash was for their family. They remembered the Islamophbic outbursts of violence after the September 11, 2001, attacks, so of course their first instincts were to protect their daughter. While I wish they would have listened to Maya more, I can’t entirely fault them for their reaction.

Audrey: Were there any other characters you particularly liked besides Maya? I was very fond of Violet. She was close to everything I want my YA heroines to have in a best friend. She didn’t have as much screen time as I’d hoped, but I appreciate her support for Maya and how she cheered her on all the time.

Crystal: I totally loved Hina. Like Audrey said earlier, Hina proved that it was possible to carve out a life that fits your own dreams. She knew what she wanted and worked on maintaining relationships in spite of the hurdles.

Karimah: I liked Violet as well. I’m glad that she knew how to best support Maya in her budding relationship with Phil and was completely supportive of her after the terrorist attack. She was a great best friend for Maya and I love that she was written in such a manner. I also liked Phil as he was much deeper than the typical romantic lead. Usually the romantic lead is this idealized version the “popular hot guy” but he was actually the total opposite. I mean, the way Maya described him he seem attractive, but he had a secret himself and had the same family tension as Maya. He was also so sweet to Maya and supportive of her as well.

Crystal: The format of the book is a little unusual. Maya’s story is sequential, but it is interrupted with brief moments from another perspective. These interstitials (a new word for me) definitely add mystery and suspense. Some of them are also very unsettling. What did you think of this choice in the storytelling?

Jessica: At first, I was a little on the fence about it, because I knew where the story was going. I didn’t know how I felt about portraying someone about to commit a terrible crime. It was haunting and beautifully written, and definitely added a layer of suspense. It was, ahem, a great filter for the book. At the same time, I still am not sure how I feel about the portrayal of the terrorist in the aftermath (spoilers ahead, stop reading if you haven’t finished the book) — I guess, I’m always a little leery of narratives that show an abused child becoming a criminal when all too often, people who commit hate crimes are the privileged and angry, not the people who are most vulnerable in society. The terrorist had a mix of privilege and resentment, along with a terrible upbringing, so it’s certainly not a black-and-white narrative that I’d condemn. But it does unsettle me.

Anyway, that’s my long-winded way of saying, I think it added a lot to the book, while also shaking up my preconceptions about a lot of things.

Karimah: Since my WIP has interstitials (didn’t know that is what they were called) has them, I really enjoyed them. I felt like it gave us an insight into the terrorist’s mind as he leads up to the act. I like how they allowed us to connect to different people who were affected by the act as well. It brought the terror of the act, aside from how Maya’s family is affected, to life. However, like Jessica, I was a bit annoyed by the narrative of the abused child becoming a criminal. I felt like it was an “easy out” for the terrorist instead of being real with that he just had hate in his heart and a desire to cause destruction. I get it was trying to humanize him, but with so many terrorists of his ilk called “lone wolf” and humanized when Black and Brown victims of police are demonized, it hurt.

Audrey: The interstitials felt very cinematic for me. Maya’s the main character of this movie, if you will, so the camera mostly sticks with her, but the interstitials were brief cuts to the danger that had been building unbeknownst to her. That ramped up the tension for us as a viewer/reader, and then afterwards we got to see the truth unfold on the periphery while we stayed with Maya (because her story was the emotional center of the story). I think it was a fitting narrative device for this book.

But like you said, I was really disappointed that the abused child backstory showed up. Maybe I’m just bitter and angry and frustrated (hi, all of last year), but I’m entirely uninterested in any story trying to mitigate angry white men’s hateful actions, especially when we saw how much Maya and her family were hurt because of it.

Crystal: One last note about the romances. I had to smile with her first love interest. The actions were fairly innocent, but the descriptions were still quite sensual. The second romance was filled many roadblocks, but was a unique set of circumstances. It was complex and I also appreciated the ending that seemed very realistic. (Trying not to spoil too much here, but it’s not a fairy tale.)

Audrey: I thought it was great that Maya had two love interests and how both of those stories came to different conclusions. It was nice to see how messy feelings could get and how Maya tried to navigate both romantic options. (As a side bonus, I really liked the fact that the guys didn’t know about each other, so we didn’t have to endure any jealous posturing.) I’m really happy we got to see Maya exploring her feelings and sorting out what her heart really wanted.

Karimah: I really, really loved both romances because they were just so real and I feel that Maya handled both of them so well. She was honest with herself and her feelings and rightfully made the right call with her first romance and I loved the slow burn that was the second. It was refreshing that all of them were honest with each other and were able to talk through their issues. It’s so healthy and teens need to see what healthy relationships can look like. And I like that the end was more about Maya being in love with herself, standing up for herself, instead of a “happily ever after” with a significant other (sorry for the spoiler).

If you’ve already read Love, Hate & Other Filters, we’d love to hear your thoughts! If you haven’t had a chance to read it yet, we recommend you get it soon.

[sp4c3-0ddity]

i actually wrote college AU fluff that’s gen, for once. i would like to thank everyone in the Pidgance Positivity Discord for enabling my chemist Hunk headcanons

and I would like to apologize to Hunk for having to deal with Lance in lab

Read it on Ao3

or read all ~2500 words below!!

Hunk regretted telling Lance his lab section number approximately three minutes into the first experiment.

“Hey, Hunk,” Lance said from his own hood, “can I borrow your scoop?”

Hunk, scanning his procedure for the third time since he wrote it, glanced towards him and asked, “What’s wrong with yours?”

Lance held up the metal scoop. “It’s got these white spots on it,” he said, pointing to one. “What if they contaminate my experiment?”

Hunk raised an eyebrow, surprised by Lance’s concern, but rather than pass over his own scoop, he took Lance’s and looked at it more closely. “Uh, Lance,” he said, “these spots are calcium carbonate.”

“Which is…?”

Hunk pinched his lips together and carefully asked, “How the heck did you pass general chemistry?”

Lance stared at him for a beat before snatching the scoop out of Hunk’s hand and walking over to the sink, mumbling something about all his friends being jerks. And Hunk took advantage of his temporary absence to start setting up his experiment.

“You doing okay, Hunk?” Shiro, the TA, asked when he came over.

“Yep,” Hunk said. Now he held the separatory funnel in his hand, prepared to shake it.

“And you, Lance?” Shiro prompted.

“Peachy,” said Lance.

Shiro crossed his arms as he eyed Lance. “Then why aren’t you wearing your safety goggles?”

Lance’s separatory funnel almost slid from his grip, but he recovered it before it could fall. “I’m fine though,” he said.

“Then make sure you stay that way by putting on your goggles.” Shiro patted Lance’s shoulder as he passed, approaching another pair of students in the middle of their experiments.

Lance looked at Hunk. “You…wouldn’t happen to have an extra pair of goggles I can borrow, do you?”

Hunk sighed as he vented gas from his funnel and set in place, turning the stopper and draining the bottom layer of fluid. “I thought I reminded you to bring your own pair.”

“Yeah, well…I forgot. And then I thought hey, at least I avoid those red lines I get after lab.”

Hunk rolled his eyes. “Lance, one day you’re gonna be that guy that people tell stories about.”

“Sounds good to me,” Lance said, already busy with draining his own separatory funnel.

They worked in blessed silence for a good few minutes, at least until Lance said, “Hey, Hunk, I think I threw the wrong layer away.”

It wasn’t that Lance was completely inept, exactly. It was that Lance was inept at certain things…like chemistry, and Hunk, for the life of him, could not figure out why the hell Lance chose a major so heavy with it.

“I like marine biology,” Lance said once when Pidge asked him, “and marine biology needs it.”

Pidge, for her part, did not like chemistry and did her best to avoid it, though luckily her interests did not align with it beyond a single semester of general chemistry that she currently procrastinated. “I’ll take it next year,” she said if anyone asked, and then mimed gagging whenever she caught sight of Hunk’s and Lance’s organic chemistry textbooks.

“Chemistry is just applied physics, Pidge,” Hunk told her.

“Well, keep it away,” Pidge retorted, holding her computer over her head as if chemistry was contagious.

Hunk glanced at her computer screen, curious about what she worked on. “Pidge, is that file’s name Mordor?”

“Yup,” she said, glaring at him.

“What is it?”

“It’s the worst coding assignment ever,” she explained.

“And it does…?”

“Well, one does not simply code for Mordor, that’s for sure.”

Hunk took that as a pointed sign that he was invading her privacy and didn’t press her for more details. Odds were it was a differential equation solver…or something like that.

Lance, for once, elected not to participate in their conversation, instead keeping his eyes on the chemistry textbook open in front of him. He pressed his hands to the back of his head, looking focused, at least until Hunk noticed that his eyes weren’t moving and had glazed over.

“What’re you stuck on, buddy?” Hunk asked.

“Huh?” Lance glanced up at him. “Oh, hybridization. Why is a carbon with a double bond sp2 hybridized again?”

Hunk set to explaining, but Lance interrupted him, “Wait, wait, wait. What’s this about pi bonds?”

He looked at Pidge, though he knew beseeching her for help was pointless, and sure enough she focused on her computer again, mumbling something about for loops and iterations.

“You know what?” Lance said after Hunk tried yet again to explain the finer points of hybridization. He stretched across the table until his arms were on either side of Pidge’s laptop, forehead pressed to his open book. “Why don’t we take a break and get some coffee?”

“It’s four o’clock,” said Hunk.

“You don't even like coffee," Lance said.

Hunk looked between his friends:  from Lance, unfocused and annoyed, to Pidge, frustrated and open to his idea. So, despite the knowledge that he and Lance had a midterm in two days, he agreed.

“See, Hunk, here’s the thing,” Lance said as they left the lecture hall, their exam behind them, out of sight and out of mind, at least until the professor graded it. “This isn’t the right kind of chemistry.”

“Oh, yeah?” said Hunk, raising an eyebrow at him. “What’s the right kind then?”

“Well, you know…” Lance waved a hand dismissively. “The kind you have with someone, like romantic chemistry. Like what you and Shay have.”

Hunk rolled his eyes and said, “For the last time, Shay is just a person I met and admire.”

“She gave you a rock,” Lance pointed out with a smirk.

“She’s a geology major,” Hunk said.

“It was a very pretty rock,” Lance said. “There were those crystals on it.”

“Quartz.”

“See?” Lance elbowed him in the side. “You even remember! And I know for a fact you keep it on your desk.”

“All right, fine,” Hunk said with an impish smile of his own. But before Lance could gloat about being correct, he added, “I admire the rock she gave me too.”

“You—” Lance lightly punched his arm, and they both laughed.

Lab got even worse after the midterm when Keith switched into their section.

“What happened that you had to switch this late in the semester?” Hunk wondered.

To his amazement, Keith flushed red and admitted, “I…went out with the TA.”

Lance’s jaw dropped, and Hunk stared at him incredulously. “Like…on a date?”

“Yes,” Keith said tersely, but from the way he very pointedly set up his experiment without even glancing towards Hunk or Lance, he refused to speak further on the matter.

“Now Keith and his old TA had chemistry,” Lance grumbled under his breath.

“We have chemistry now,” Hunk said when he noticed how far behind Lance was in his experiment. He’d only just finished setting up his reaction in the sand bath, but Hunk’s was nearly done, the color inside the flask already changing.

To be fair, today’s experiment was fairly short.

But within a few weeks, Hunk noticed a pattern emerging:  Keith finishing first, and Lance’s work turning sloppier while he tried to catch up.

“You know it’s not a race, right?” Hunk told him.

“I know but I’m still gonna win,” Lance retorted as he scooped his reaction’s product onto a piece of weigh paper while it was still damp.

“You’re gonna get over a hundred percent yield if you weigh it like that,” Hunk pointed out.

“Even better.”

“So you’re okay claiming to create matter?” Hunk asked.

“Shiro doesn’t care,” Lance said. He put the paper on the balance and, without waiting for it to stabilize, jotted a number down in his notebook. “He only cares that we have a number.”

“Okay, this is true,” Hunk conceded, “but you do know that scientific accuracy is kind of…important?”

“Oh, now you sound like Pidge.”

Hunk rolled his eyes and gave Lance up for a lost cause, but he had his revenge when he ‘forgot’ to reply to a text message asking him to correct his post-lab report.

Somehow, Lance survived the lab that semester with decent grades on all of his reports – though Pidge predicted that it was all thanks to Hunk.

“You’re not even in our class,” Lance grumbled.

“I don’t need to be there to know it’s true,” Pidge retorted.

“Well, Pidge, I guess I can’t see that movie you wanted to see on Friday after all,” Lance threatened, arms tightly crossed.

“That’s okay,” Pidge said, sounding unbothered. “I’ll take Matt with me instead since he’s visiting.”

Lance narrowed his eyes at her. “Then I’m changing my Netflix password.”

Pidge’s eyes snapped from her physics textbook to his face. “You take that back!”

“Only if you take back what you said about Hunk enabling my grades!”

“Why would I take back the truth?” Pidge demanded. “What are you, the Catholic Church?”

“Oh, comparing yourself to Galileo again? How high and mighty of you, Pidge!”

“You understood that reference?” Hunk wondered, interrupting their budding argument and surprised despite himself.

Lance gestured towards Pidge, who rolled her eyes before returning her attention to her studying. And he said, “She’s used it before. I’m just adapting to her.”

“Then why can’t you remember what the Grignard reaction is?” Hunk asked, pointing to the organic chemistry notes spread out over the table between them. “We’ve been over it so many times.”

“Grignard?” Lance narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “That’s the one with manganese, right?”

“Magnesium,” Hunk corrected, “but that’s closer than your last guess.”

Lance grinned. “Ha, I’ll ace the final then. Wait and see, Hunk.”

“There’s a really big difference between manganese and magnesium,” Pidge then pointed out. “I don’t have to have taken chemistry to know that.” But when both Hunk and Lance glared at her, she smiled sheepishly and added, “But good job, Lance.”

“Thanks, Pidge,” Lance said wryly. “I guess I won’t change my Netflix password after all.”

They had assigned seats during the final exam, so Hunk didn’t have to deal with Lance’s leg bouncing and vibrating the whole row of desks. But he did have to deal with the stress of seeing Lance finish before him, and wonder if he managed to answer every question on the exam or simply gave up.

Then again, it wasn’t like Lance to give up, even if he had no skill at something, which, well… They’d studied together every day for hours at a time for almost two weeks, and though Lance spent half that time distracted by one thing or another – usually a game on his phone or a conversation with Pidge – he still learned something.

Probably.

Hunk ignored the anxious churning in his stomach as he returned his focus to the exam. He thought he’d paced himself quite well so far, but between the time on the clock and the questions he had left to answer, he started to doubt himself. It didn’t help that someone in the row in front of him kept swearing under his breath.

Chair, and…a boat, Hunk thought as he drew cyclohexane in its two most stable molecular configurations. He was careful to count sides on each shape, to make sure that the hexagons had six corners and the pentagons had five.

He would not lose points on mistakes that wouldn’t have happened if he’d paid more careful attention to detail.

Name the following organic compounds. Easy, Hunk thought.

Propose a synthetic pathway between the reagent and the product. Oh, and this one had suggestions.

By the time Hunk reached the last question, he was grinning, feeling better about this particular exam than he had about anything in the last eighteen weeks of the semester…at least until Shiro called time.

Hunk glanced up at his lab TA before writing his best guess for a question he’d barely scanned, then, after passing the paper over to the TA that collected them, he mentally calculated what his score would be based on questions he knew he got correct.

Well, at least he would pass, right?

Hunk walked with Keith out of the lecture hall; he tried to ask him what he got for that last question, but Keith said, “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Why?” Hunk wondered, eyebrow raised. “Did your girlfriend tell you what was on the exam?”

“No!” Keith said quickly. “I just don’t like talking about exams after the fact.” He crossed his arms, and after a beat added, “And the TAs don’t know what’s on the test until we do.”

“I knew that,” Hunk said. “Shiro refused to tell us anything.”

He and Keith parted after that, and Hunk met Lance at the cafe on campus, where Pidge waited for them at a table in the corner. “What time did you have to get here to get a table?” Hunk asked her.

Pidge didn’t look up from the old history exam she held in her hand when she replied, “Two minutes ago.”

“Seriously?”

“Right on the hour, when people go to class.”

“Nice,” Hunk said appreciatively, sitting down right as Lance joined them with three drinks:  hot chocolate for Hunk, who didn’t enjoy coffee, black coffee for Pidge, who didn’t like milk, and iced coffee for Lance, who didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘cold’.

“So how do you think you did?” Lance asked Hunk.

Hunk sipped his drink, considering. “Not too bad,” he said. “I think I’ll get at least an eighty percent.”

“Not too bad?” Lance said. “I’d kill for that.”

“You’ll pass,” Pidge said after shooting a brief glance at him. “You’ve been studying your ass off.”

“Look who finally noticed all my hard work!”

“Your lab report grades might bring you down though,” Pidge continued as if she hadn’t heard Lance. She stared straight at him as she emptied three sugar packets into her coffee and drank deeply from it.

“I got decent grades on those,” Lance whined.

“Shiro’s an easy grader then,” Pidge said. “I saw your reports, and I may not know what half those molecules are called, but reports are supposed to be easy enough to follow. And yours were kind of—”

“Don’t say it, Pidge,” Hunk beseeched her.

“—sloppy.”

Hunk sighed, but to his surprise Lance admitted, “I guess I could’ve done better, but I would’ve done a lot worse without Hunk’s help.” When Hunk threw a glance at him, he added, “I was in good hands.”

“That’s true,” Pidge agreed.

Hunk smiled, glad Lance could confess to needing his help in regular conversation, but the smile disappeared when Lance said, “Oh, yeah, that reminds me:  which section are you taking next semester?”

Hunk wondered if it was too late for him to drop out.

[eldritchsurveys]

876.

5k Survey IV

151. What is louder and more annoying: 200 adults talking or one four-year-old screaming? >> I’m pretty sure I’ve never heard 200 adults talking at one time. Regardless, I’m sensory-defensive, so many things register as the same level of “too loud” for me. Both of these things would be simply “too loud”. 152. Do you believe the stories about planes, boats and people mysteriously disappearing into the Bermuda triangle? >> I find them vaguely interesting. I liked the X-Files episode about it, Gillian Anderson’s character (it wasn’t Scully, technically...) was excellent in it lol. 153. Who are you the most jealous of? >> I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it. 154. What is the happiest way you can start your day? >> In an Inworld cuddle pile. 155. Do you ever have moments where you feel like everything is all right in the world? >> Occasionally.

156. Who thinks that you are offensive? >> I don’t know who thinks I’m offensive. It’s not like people go out of their way to tell me that or anything. 157. If you had to teach a class in something, what would you be able to teach people? >> I’d rather not. I greatly prefer being a student, anyway. 158. Have you ever had a spiritual experience (an experience that cannot be explained by science)? >> I’m sure science could contrive a reasonable enough explanation for the things I experience (and if it can’t now, it probably will eventually). Regardless, I prefer my explanations, and I’ll stick to them. 159. Do you believe that this experience was truly mystical or do you think there is some scientific explanation for it, only you don’t know what it is? >> An experience being explained in a scientific fashion doesn’t prevent it from being mystical. There are plenty of mystical experiences that science has an explanation for, after all, but the people involved in those experiences keep their own counsel. I think both a mystical explanation and a scientific explanation can exist comfortably side-by-side in my brain; they’re both useful for different reasons, particularly when it comes to communicating the experience to others (I wouldn’t use a mystical explanation when speaking to a hard materialist, for example, because, like... what would be the point...?). 160. Do you get offended easily? >> I wouldn’t say that, no. But I tend to be automatically distrustful of people who seem to go out of their way to be “offensive”. Just because whatever they’re saying doesn’t directly hurt me doesn’t mean I want to hang out with someone who says the kinds of things they say. 161. Would you still love and stay with your significant other if he or she had to have a breast or testicle removed? >> I can’t imagine being affected by that sort of thing at all. 162. Do you believe in fate or free will? >> I don’t care to choose a side. I think the discourse around it is interesting. 163. Do you believe that only boring people get bored? >> Of course not. That’s a rude (and, of course, entirely inaccurate, but mostly rude) thing to say. 164. Can life change or are we all stuck in vain? >> What does this even mean? 165. What changes are you afraid of? >> The kind that cause me pain. 166. Are you a day person or nocturnal? >> I prefer to be awake in the daylight and asleep at night. 167. What one CD could you listen to for an entire week (no mixed CD’s, it must be an album)? >> Why would I even have to do this anymore? It’s 2020. 168. Which is worse, working in retail, food service, or an office? >> For me, all of them are equally bad. Well, okay, maybe food service is worse because there’s the added layer of having to handle food and be around mucky gross things. 169. What’s the coolest job you ever had? >> Manning merch tables at local shows. 170. What is one central idea that your thoughts seem to come back to? >> There is no central idea...? I’m not sure how one even determines this. 171. Have you ever wanted to be an actor/tress? >> I was one in Inworld’s first iteration, when I was physically a child. But I have never really had interest in being one in this world. 172. If you had the power to control one person and make this person do anything you wanted for a whole day, who would you pick and what would they do? >> Total power exchange is totally not my scene, I’d get bored of it way too easily. I could absolutely see myself snapping, “make a fucking decision for yourself for once” after like an hour or two, lmao. 173. What star sign are you and what is your sign like? >> Gemini. I’m not going to go into an explanation of Gemini’s commonly-recognised traits, Google can take care of that for you. 174. Did the Blair Witch Project scare you? >> I haven’t seen it. The new Blair Witch game looked vaguely interesting. 175. Are you in constant fear of death? >> Not constant. I did spend about a year or so like that, recently. It sucked pretty bad. 176. Does fear of death keep you from building a life? >> No. Sometimes I get that bone-deep “what’s the point” feeling, but like... that feeling will just have to exist on its own while I go ahead and keep doing stuff. I can’t give in to that. 177. Do you like all your movies to be in wide-screen? >> I’m not sure what the alternative is, or what the difference is or whatever. 178. Are you a fan of any comic books? >> Sure. 179. At what age did you attend your first funeral? >> I don’t remember. I vaguely recall one happening when I was young, but I have no idea what exact age I was. 180. What do you smell like (lotion, cologne, sweat)? >> Just... like, a person. I showered this morning, but the fragrances from soap and lotion don’t linger very long, and it hasn’t been long enough for me to start smelling like sweat or anything. So I’m somewhere in the middle. 181. What are your greatest sources for wisdom? >> Oh, you know. People. 182. When you were little, where did your parents tell you babies come from? >> My father never had that discussion with me, I figured it out from reading books. 183. What is your favorite band? >> I don’t have one. 184. What’s the best cheesy 80’s song? >> Come On Eileen. /picks one at random 185. What’s the best kind of movie to see on a date? >> I’m not the person to ask. 186. Do you like to sit in the front, middle or back of the Movie Theater? >> Back, absolutely. And woe unto the people who have the same idea and try to sit near me. 187. Have you ever been inside an abandoned building? >> Yeah. 188. Under what circumstances would you agree to work for free? >> The circumstances where I really just want to do whatever-it-is and it isn’t too intensive, I guess. And where I feel like my work is valued in some other way if not financially. 189. Candles or strobe lights? >> Candles. Although sometimes in a dark area, a candle flame dancing around on the wick will have a kind of strobe-y effect, and I hate it. 190. Do you think the Lord of the Rings movies are true to the books or did Hollywood change the story too much? >> I don’t know, I didn’t read the book. 191. When you see a stranger on the street does your first reaction lean towards thinking of this person as a potential friend or as a potential threat? >> I don’t think of them as a potential anything.  192. Is it natural for human beings to fear and distrust each other, or is it cultural? >> Obviously it’s cultural, or every human being in every society on earth would fear and distrust everyone else with or without cause... which... is not the case... 193. What do you really want to buy? >> Nothing. I don’t have the money to buy anything right now, anyway. 194. You have to choose. Would you be happier marrying someone rich for their money or living in the streets and subway tunnels with someone you love? >> God, do I hate this question. First of all, neither money nor love are “everything”, but “love” is work, not some kind of magic bubbly gushy feeling that happens no matter what, and that work starts to take a backseat when all one’s energy is devoted to simply surviving from day to day. How do I know? Take a wild guess. Second of all, the question doesn’t take into account whether you can also love someone you’ve married for the sake of financial security. (Spoiler: remember, love is action and will and intent, not magic, so yeah, you can.) Third of all, can I stress that there’s nothing fucking romantic and movie-like about being homeless? Because sometimes I feel like people imagine “we’ll share a cardboard box and be free of the shackles of modern society <3″ or some shit and meanwhile I’ve seen homeless couples, many homeless couples. I’ve been homeless couples. It sucks. That’s the end of the story. It sucks. (There’s probably similar romantic notions about marrying some tycoon and being a kept lady/boy, or whatever, which do not at all measure up to the reality. I’m sure a lot of people end up abused and neglected and miserable in their gilded-cage master bedrooms, afterwards. But since that’s not my experience, it wasn’t the focus of my fathomless ire with this question, lol.) 195. If someone wanted to understand you what book could they read that would help? >> That’s not going to happen. 196. Do you think it’s odd that Americans have freedom of religion and yet call themselves ‘one nation under god’? >> I don’t think it’s odd because I’m pretty used to how the United States works in that respect. I know it operates under conservative, Christian hegemony while playing the role of secular, progressive Western nation on the outside.

197. In what sense are you a minority? >> I’m Black, disabled/neuro-atypical, socially considered female, trans, and queer. I think that covers it. 198. Are you anti social? >> No. I have a few asocial behaviours and inclinations, but I’m not anti-social. 199. Do you photograph well? >> Sometimes. Not often, in my opinion. 200. Do you think that human beings would survive through a nuclear winter? >> I don’t know. I’m not knowledgeable enough about either human biology (and psychology) or the specifics of nuclear winter to say.