#anyways my point stands that that would be my ultimate wish

[kavehater]

If I had a genie and could make one wish I’d wish that romantic relationships and anything to do with falling in love would be completely eradicated from existence. Not only is it gross and weird, but it’s also fundamentally an issue, like you can’t tell me it’s anything feasible to yearn for or believe in when so many crimes hardships and negativity stems as a by product of love. I wish everyone was aroace and we sprout from the soil via mitosis but somehow we still have genetic variation bc it’s a unique sub section of mitosis where it’s a hybrid of mitosis and meiosis.

[ironunderstands]

I've seen some people mention that at the end cutscene of 2.2, while everyone else in the dreamscape looks to be waking up/seems dazed, Ratio looks composed????? Like this is a normal Tuesday and said people said "what if he's been awake from the Order dream for actually a while lol"

Thoughts, o Aeon of Reading Comprehension?

Knowing Ratio, yeah, he probably figured out he was in a dream pretty quickly, perhaps even as early as 2.2.

There are two things that confuse this though:

It doesn’t linearly become Ena’s dream, there’s no specific moment in time where everything is no longer reality. Rather, the entirety of Penacony is slowly falling into the dream, with people like the Trailblazer going in first because of their sensitivity to Memoria. Honestly the Ena’s dream thing is very confusing, but what I’m trying to say is that it’s difficult to pinpoint when exactly Ratio woke up, but we can make a few assumptions

We just don’t see shit from Ratio’s end like, at all. The amount of screentime he has versus his importance in the story is nuts, to the point where I think they are almost deliberately hiding what went down on his end. Like bro how did you figure out Dormancy, what happened 😭

However, even with these limitations I still have somewhat of an idea of what I think happened.

The Ratio we meet next to Aventurine and Topaz following our “defeat” of Sunday likely isn’t the real Dr. Ratio. Because well, look at him. And look at them for that matter 😭 “The IPC is going to leave Penacony alone” “I Veritas Ratio am working with the Genius Society” this seems more like wishful thinking on the Trailblazer’s end rather than something that could ever happen in reality, especially since in what universe would Ratio find the time to somehow convince and work with the Genius Society on a topic neither he nor they would care about.

Moreover, this scene is also meant to make the audience go “hmm, something’s up” so the twist that it was all a dream had more impact. However, in that scene, Himeko and Welt also comment on how weird their behavior is, which makes me wonder. Were Himeko and Welt (and by extension Dan Heng and March) also experiencing the same dream as TB, or are they also fake, and TB’s closer relationship with the other members of the Astral Express makes them more realistic in Ena’s dream, objecting to the IP3’s behavior in a way they would in reality?

Anyways, tangent over, the point is, that Ratio wasn’t real, so where is the real Ratio? I’d say he’s experiencing a perfect dream of his own, just like everyone else on Penacony.

Which is why he woke up so early. Sure, the memokeepers could have sensed he was useful and woke him up so he could help wake others up, something which we can assume he’s doing based on the singular frame he gets in that cutscene.

Just based on vibes, it looks like he just helped those two people in the back wake up, and now he stands up to look at the Hunt arrows/stars/meteors? Shooting across the sky.

However, I want to entertain the idea that Ratio woke up on his own, because realistically, he 100% could.

Ena’s dream, and well, Penacony in general offers a perfect reality, and that’s not something Ratio believes in. He would immediately notice everything is too good to be true, and that would cause the dream to fall apart. Interestingly, Ena’s dream also seems to tailor itself to the individual, so what would be too perfect for Ratio to ever believe it could happen in reality?

I’m sure you have already guessed the answer.

How was it, Veritas Ratio? Having the thing that unraveled your dream be the one thing you have wanted all your life? How does it feel, knowing that being acknowledged by Nous is something that could never happen to you in reality?

How was it?

I still think it could have happened in other ways, or maybe he avoided falling into the dream in the first place somehow, but ultimately, I prefer my idea the most.

I hope this satisfies your question

[jesncin]

Are you at all excited for the upcoming Absolute Martian Manhunter book later this year? It'll be the most high-profile launch J'onn has been a part of for a long while, being DC's attempt at an "Ultimate Marvel" line. Given how the approach seems to be defined by removing elements of the characters' status quo - Superman has no Krypton tech, Batman is not a billionaire, Wonder Woman is the last of the Amazons etc. - I think there's a very real possibility that for J'onn they'd pivot in the opposite direction and give us a living Martian society. If only because J'onn has so little anyway, there's not as much to remove as with other members of the League, so the logical thing would be adding something back in to shake things up. I'm personally hoping for some combination of Weird and Noir.

I'm absolutely (heh) excited for it (because a new refreshing change even in an elseworld story is exactly what J'onn needs right now!) but also cautious and,,, concerned. DC's revealed the Absolute gimmicks for just about all the other solo supers but J'onn is essentially still a rumor? What's going on there? I was also concerned when Superman's Absolute gimmick was supposedly "he'll be more alien than human" "he doesn't have a fortress of solitude, no Kents, etc" which,,, sounds a lot like J'onn tbh but we'll have to wait and see. Sometimes writers do this thing where they try to do something new with Superman and it's just re-worked J'onn lore. And J'onn lore is fundamentally flawed so in turn that take on Superman doesn't work, but that's just me with early concerns.

Ooh! That's a good point actually! That feels like the most logical shakeup they could do, and YJa helped warm people up to the idea of a living Mars (which I also agree would spice things up and differentiate J'onn from Clark more). And I'd absolutely (heh) love more supernatural-weird-noir for J'onn! We finally had J'onn play into being a martian detective in the 2019 Identity run, but it was more cop drama than detective noir which I would love to see. My only addendum to the idea of a living Mars as an Absolute gimmick is, since YJa popularized this already, what else will this take do to innovate on that idea? My personal wish list is:

Revitalize J'onn's cast system (a mix of old and brand new characters. Don't just make him watch tv to care about humans. Give this martian relationships!!)

Figure out his themes outside of grief!! (I love sad Martian man but he needs to do more than that! It's been stagnating his character)

No Justice League stuff or other superhero cameos/team ups. (J'onn NEEDS to prove he can stand on his own as a solo character so he can stop being pigeonholed as the League's heart or therapist.)

Fresh new take on Martian world building (please get rid of Martian racism, it's dumb and never made sense. It's a shapeshifting society and the idea of characters like M'gann essentially "greenfacing" to "pass" is so weird)

Critical reimagining of J'onn's relationship to justice (we need to get rid of or critically examine his relationship to copaganda.)

Integrate Blackness more thoroughly into his character (CW Supergirl and that one Nubia Coronation special comic are still the only takes that have done this. Come on guys!!)

More thorough reflection of J'onn's multiple identities (undoubtedly what makes J'onn special. But the comics rarely dig into what it means for J'onn to be multiple people. I would love it if his identities [especially the racialized ones] weren't treated as so,,,disposable.)

Ma'alefa'ak please (I just want to see him again I don't even care if they do a bad job. However all I ask is he be a green martian and J'onn's twin again. And a slutty design.)

The last time we saw a big overhaul to J'onn's character was the New 52, and the major flaw of that run was that it had no clear thematic intention to how it interpreted his character. So we ended up with just a bunch of references and a convoluted edgy story that doesn't help J'onn become a self sustaining solo character. The Absolute line is the perfect platform to revitalize him as a character, but I hope the writers can think in the long term to combat his foundational issues.

[kindchenschema]

Ladies Night

This is my gift to @sillyhyperfixator for the @housemdanniversary :)

Characters: Thirteen, Cameron, Amber, Cuddy, House, Wilson

Pairings: Camteen + Gen Friendships

Rating: T

Summary:

"House. I need a favor."

Wilson's voice made House crane his neck backwards as he shuffled forward in the cafeteria line. It was a slow day, no case yet for a change, so his team was doing their (and his) clinic hours while he was having an early lunch.

Wilson, needing a favor? That piqued House's interest, as it was usually him who needed to be bailed out of trouble (barring their first encounter).

"Three wishes I will grant thee," House said as he took another step forward and grabbed a bag of chips from the counter.

Wilson smirked. "I just need one. Amber wants to host a Ladies Night at our place on Friday–"

"Host a what, now?" House sputtered. 

Wilson gave a sigh. "Ladies Night. Chick flicks, wine, truth or dare probably– who knows. Anyway, she wants… she… I need you to invite Thirteen. I figured, you know, you're her boss, so maybe she'd… take you up on the offer."

"You mean you figured I was her boss so she'd be forced to take you up on the offer," House remarked, as he took an apple out of the basket and bit into it, then quickly put it back as the line started inching forward again. "Since we both know Thirteen would rather shoot herself in the head than be in an enclosed space with CB."

"It wouldn't be just Thirteen."

House visibly perked up at this.

"So, who else is on the guest list?"

Wilson, who knew his best friend all too well by now, braced himself for the inevitable. "Cameron," he forced out.

If House were a cartoon character, Wilson thought, his eyes would be replaced by bright red hearts beating out of his skull and there would be steam coming from his ears.

"Oh, now THAT is JUICY!" House gushed a couple of decibels too loud to go unnoticed by the other people in line. Wilson gave an apologetic smile in their general direction and tried to shush House, but to no avail.

"You're on cloud nine right now, aren't you."

"Hah! More like cloud sixty-nine, my friend!" House exclaimed, so full of glee that he even paid for his lunch with his own money.

This was simply too good to be true.

"Get your mind out of the gutter," Wilson chastised lowly, but without any real annoyance. "Will you ask her, or not?"

House shoved the tray of food into Wilson's hands and, with the neck of his cane dangling between his thumb and bottom of his forefinger, put his hands on Wilson's shoulder in a gesture of utter sincerity. "Absolutely. She'll be there," he assured, leaving Wilson standing there in shock with the tray of food still in his hands.

___

"Absolutely not." Thirteen spat, shooting her boss an incredulous, bordering-on-disgusted look.

"Why not?! Spending the night with two beautiful women and one man, isn't that like your ultimate wet dream?" House asked, scandalized at her refusal. "Well, two beautiful women and Wilson," he quickly corrected.

Thirteen rolled her eyes. "I am not having a sleepover with one of my superiors, a colleague I barely know, and… Amber."

Kutner snorted, and she shot him a look, too.

House pouted down at her. "Oh sweetie, are you afraid the other kids on the playground won't like you? It's like daddy always tells you, just be yourself and–"

"Can we please get back to the patient?" Taub cut in, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Amazing idea," Thirteen sighed. "35 year old female–"

"Go to Ladies Night, or you're fired," House deadpanned.

Thirteen stared up at him grimly. "You can't be serious."

Kutner slightly raised his hand and pointed out, "Actually, I'm pretty sure he is."

___

"Hey- Cameron, wait!"

Cameron spun around on her heels. It had been a hectic day in the ER, she'd been awake since 5am and was running on only a couple of hours of sleep as it was - but, such was the life of a department head.

"What's up? Walk with me? Gotta bring this to the nurses station," she waved the files in her hand into the air once, and Wilson joined her stride.

"So, a couple days ago, after her PT session for her leg," Wilson started, "Amber mentioned to me that she wants to host a Ladies Night, and she'd like for you to be there. It's this Friday, at 7 o'clock."

Cameron gave an easy smile. "Aw, wow. I mean, I barely even know Amber, so it's sweet that she thought of me. Of course, I'll be there."

"Great," Wilson replied, "Thanks Cameron."

"I've never been to a Ladies Night," she mused.

"Ooh, Ladies Night?" a voice piped up beside them, and they turned around.

Cuddy was leaning against the counter on the other side of the nurses station, her eyes sparkling as she announced, "I love Ladies Night."

There was an awkward beat of silence that followed, Cuddy ducking her head still wearing that conspirational grin, and Cameron looking at Wilson expectantly.

"Um, I… Would you like to…?" Wilson trailed off, and Cuddy threw her head back in a laugh.

"Don't worry, James, I'm just kidding. I'm the big boss, I don't expect to be invited to these things," she said and it was genuine, but after so many years of friendship, he could tell the slight disappointment in her voice regardless.

"You're not Amber's boss anymore," he pointed out. "You are Cameron's boss, but-"

"I'm completely fine with that…" Cameron assured. Just then, her pager started beeping. "...but I have to run now. See you at Ladies Night!" And just like that, she disappeared out of their sight.

"...Great. So, Lisa, you'll be there? And just so you know, Amber originally did want to invite you, but she figured you'd be too busy with the baby and all."

"I have a sitter," Cuddy pointed out.

"Right, right, I'm sorry, I didn't mean–" Wilson stuttered, and Lisa gave another small laugh and decided to have mercy on him. For the second time that day, Wilson had two hands resting on his shoulders as Lisa leaned in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "It's okay, I know what you meant. Should I bring anything, to Ladies Night?"

"Just whatever you need to sleep."

Cuddy raised an eyebrow. "Oh, it's a sleepover?"

"I suppose I forgot to mention that…" Wilson admitted innocently. "Oh and, Thirteen will be there, too. But other than that, no surprises, I promise."

Wilson, you sly dog, Cuddy thought affectionately. That Amber sure has him wrapped around her little pinky.

___

Two days later, that tremendous Friday, Cameron was the first of the guests to arrive at casa Wilson-Volakis at a respectable 6:56pm. Wilson took her coat while Amber deposited the bottle of dry white she'd brought to the kitchen to be retrieved at a (not so much) later time. "You shouldn't have," she told Cameron, sounding about 25% honest.

Cuddy rang the doorbell at 7:00 sharp. All of her paperwork for the evening was taken care of; Rachel, who had an early goodnight story tonight, was (hopefully still) sleeping soundly under the care of her sitter; and now, Cuddy couldn't wait to let go of the stress she had pent up all throughout the week. 

"Oh, you really shouldn't have," Amber chuckled lightly as Cuddy handed her the organic merlot in a shiny red bag. "Between the bottle Cameron brought and James' two trips to the grocery store…"

"Honestly, I think we'll manage," Cuddy joked.

"Well, it is Ladies Night, after all," Amber conceded as she led Cuddy into the living room where Cameron was already waiting for them.

Thirteen arrived fashionably late, half an hour later, and shoved the bottle of prosecco into Wilson's hands as she hastily rid herself of her coat and shoes, like perhaps the faster she got in, the faster she'd get out. "Can never have enough of this stuff, right? Isn't that like, rule number one of Ladies Night?"

"I think rule number one of Ladies Night is, you do not talk about Ladies Night," Wilson joked as he showed her where she could hang up her coat. "Thanks, Thirteen." 

After he'd pointed her towards the bathroom so she could get changed into her pajamas, she walked into the living room where Amber, Cuddy and Cameron were chatting on the couch, and they all looked up at her as she appeared in the doorway.

Thirteen curtly nodded in greeting. "Ladies."

___

Thirteen made herself comfortable in an armchair with her knees bent to the side, ankles tucked snugly under her thighs, while Amber, Cameron and Cuddy shared the couch, with Amber leaning against an arm rest, Cameron on the other side with her chin resting on her knees and, in the middle, Cuddy sitting cross-legged, occasionally reaching forward to retrieve her glass of wine.

Not long after everyone was settled and the generalities had been exchanged - how are things around the hospital, how's life after being hit by a bus and almost dying, has House been arrested for malpractice yet, things of that nature - the doorbell rang, and Wilson went to retrieve the pizza form the delivery man. "We ordered one cheese, one salami and one hawaii- I hope that's okay for everyone? No one here is a vegan, right?"

Everyone answered him in affirmative, and Thirteen bit back a grin as she caught Wilson subtly sneaking a look into her direction. Oh, those pesky stereotypes. "Nope," she confirmed, popping the 'p' in her mouth.

Wilson went on to explain the planned progress of the evening as he refilled their wine glasses with Cuddy's merlot. "...As for the sleeping part of the sleepover, we've got a couch and a guest bed that fits two people, but there's also a sleeping bag, in case nobody wants to share."

They all nodded, the silent understanding passing around that Cuddy would be taking the couch, and Thirteen and Cameron would either share the bed or play a game of rock-paper-scissors over the sleeping bag.

"Sounds perfect," Amber complimented as if she hadn't planned every detail of the evening herself, and pulled him down into a kiss. "James, could you get us some more ice, please? Thank you honey."

Cuddy and Cameron exchanged a small smirk, and Thirteen couldn't help but smile down into her lap.

___

As awkward as this was, Thirteen was happy to see Amber like this - her usual bossy self, happy, and rested. With some healthy color on the apples of her cheeks. She still remembered laying eyes on her after the bus crash, so pale and fragile and… still, was the word that came to mind. She had just been so, so still. If she was being honest, Thirteen really thought she would die.

Never in her life had she been so happy to be proven wrong - yet, the memory still haunted her.

She quickly pushed that thought to the back of her brain, though, when she noticed three pairs of eyes looking into her direction.

"Sorry," she shook her head. "What were you saying?"

"You were kinda silent for a while, so Amber just asked how you're doing and if you're having fun, or if you need anything," Cameron supplied.

"I'm good. Just a little tired, I guess. You know, working for House, and all," Thirteen answered. 

Cuddy cleared her throat awkwardly as she took a sip of wine, and then Thirteen played what she'd said back in her mind and cringed inwardly. She hadn't meant it that way, but it occurred to her that what she said could also be construed as her rubbing it in, so to speak, since Cameron no longer worked for House and Amber never really got the chance to.

Her eyes widened at the realization that she'd just made a social blunder, but she played it cool nevertheless, because what else was she going to do. "But that doesn't mean I'm not having fun. It's good to see you still going strong, CB," she answered honestly.

"Awww," Amber cocked her head with a grin. "You care about me!"

"Hey, I was not the one that hated you," Thirteen joked back lightly.

"A little bit?" Amber narrowed her eyes.

So did Thirteen. "Okay, a tiny little bit."

After some more bickering, they settled on "Dirty Dancing" for the movie of the night, and Wilson obediently inserted the DVD into the player.

___

Shortly before 8, the doorbell rang again.

"Excuse me, ladies," Amber said courteously, waving Wilson off as he started to stand from his seat on the floor.

Amber looked through the peephole and blew an exasperated sigh out of her nose as she swung the door open.

"House?! What are you doing here?!" she hissed at the man standing in front of her, his coat unbuttoned to reveal the monster truck pajamas underneath.

"It's Ladies Night!"

"James! Come here!" Amber called, and Wilson immediately scrambled to the front door.

"Hey House."

"You told him?!"

Wilson scratched his head. "You wanted Thirteen to come and I just, well, I wasn't sure how to ask her because I don't actually know her that well-"

Cameron, alarmed by the commotion, joined them in the foyer as well.

"What's going on? House, why are you here?"

"I wanna have Ladies Night with you ladies."

"Okay, but," Amber started, in a voice one might use to explain simple multiplication to a high schooler, "as the name suggests, it's Ladies night, so–"

"Then why is Cuddy here?"

Everyone shot him the most unimpressed looks they could muster up.

Cameron sighed. "I say, let him join in if he wants to. All we're doing right now is watching a movie and eating pizza, a vagina is not a requirement for that," she tried to reason. "I- I mean if it's okay with you guys of course, you're the hosts, I just mean that, well… I don't mind if he stays."

Then, she turned to House sternly. "Don't even say it. "

"Would be way too easy anyway, you gave me like, twelve possible openings with that sentence," he paused for dramatic effect. "...Heh, openings."

Cameron cringed and shot an apologetic smile to Amber.

___

Back in the living room, with the movie on pause, a dull silence, minus the bickering in the hallway, filled the air. Cuddy was texting her sitter and Thirteen wordlessly munched on her pizza, hoping the nervous energy rolling off her in waves wasn't being picked up upon by the older woman sitting across from her. While House storming the party didn't exactly come as a surprise to her, it was also not really helping the fact that this was a hostage situation to begin with.

To her luck - or not, depending how one looked at it - Cameron, Amber, Wilson and House came striding back into the room soon. 

"We have another guest," Wilson announced.

Thirteen raised two fingers off her wine glass in acknowledgement, and Cuddy looked up from her phone, unimpressed.

"Hey ladies," House said, positively giddy. "Long time no see. So! Has Thirteen expanded all of your horizons yet? And by expanded I do literally mean expanded, but by horizons I mean-"

"HOUSE!"

___

Three quarters into the movie, silent tears were streaming down Cameron's cheeks, Cuddy silently dabbed her red-rimmed eyes with a tissue, and James, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning back into Amber's space, hiccuped into her crotch. "Shhh," she gently stroked her hand over his back. "It's just a movie, honey."

House, who was sitting on the recliner, exchanged a pointed glance with Thirteen and they simultaneously took a sip of their wine, and wished that it was something stronger.

___

After the movie had ended and the tears had mostly gone - as had the first bottle of wine - House and Wilson retreated into the bedroom, deciding to have a Ladies Night just the two of them playing a card game, meanwhile the ladies in the living room moved onto the next point on the schedule.

"Oh, I don't trust anyone but my hairdresser with these curls," Cuddy proclaimed. "But I can do a mean French braid."

Cameron laughs. "I think I'll take you up on that - is that okay with you two?"

"Sure," Amber said and Thirteen nodded.

"How do we wanna do this?" Cuddy asked.

Cameron considered for a moment. "Thirteen, want me to do you, and you do Amber?"

As their luck would have it, House chose that moment to pass by on his way to the bathroom and stick his head in the door, exclaiming an enthusiastic "YES!".

Four pairs of eyes were rolled, and then they moved on.

"No, I don't wanna mess with my hair, either."

Cameron accepted this and sank down on the ground in front of Cuddy. However, Amber narrowed her eyes.

"Why don't you want her to do your hair?" she questioned.

Thirteen shook her head with a small smile. You can take the girl out of House's team, but.

"I just straightened it earlier today. Better not to mess with it."

"I've got a straightener, you can borrow it in the morning," Amber said - it was less of an offer and more of a prod, and they both knew it.

"No thanks. I don't wanna have to wash it again," Thirteen swerved.

"Fine." Amber faked a nonchalant voice, depositing herself on the couch next to Thirteen - who had awkwardly been forced into the middle - and faced the arm rest. "Can you do a dutch braid?"

___

Amber announced that the second rule of Ladies Night is that they have to play Truth or Dare.

Thirteen was relieved. This, for a change, was a game she knew well. Cameron was nervous that the others would ask something scandalous of her, and Cuddy was nervous that they wouldn't. As the first, empty bottle of wine was spinning, Amber took it upon herself to open a second one.

Cameron smiled timidly as the first spin landed on her. "Dare."

"Mm," Amber hummed in surprise. "Interesting. Okay, I dare you to… spin the bottle again and give a compliment to the person it lands on."

"Are you going easy on me?"

"Just for the first round." Amber winked.

The spin landed on Cuddy, and Cameron narrowed her eyes, thinking. Her relationship with Cuddy hadn't always been the most positive - there wasn't anything bad that had happened between them, really, no catfight or dramatic fallout, they just seemingly had a general disdain for each other… until they didn't. 

Until forced smiles became genuine, and Cameron wished Cuddy a Happy Hanukkah as she passed her in the hallway, and Cuddy asked Cameron to fill her five inch heels as the Dean (and to Cameron's credit, at least she tried). This, Cameron supposed, was just how workplace friendships went sometimes.

"I admire you. A lot," she told Cuddy earnestly. "I value your opinions, professionally and personally, and I… I just envy that you have this- this clear set of morals, an amazing sense of justice, and on top of that, you never shy away from making hard decisions. I hope I can be more like that."

Cuddy smiled warmly. "Thank you, Allison."

Cameron returned her smile. "Okay, my turn now."

Next, the bottle landed on Amber (whose first kiss was with her middle school boyfriend), then Cuddy (whose favorite part of her body is her nose), then Amber again (who was remarkably good at pretend-performing Justin Bieber songs, it turned out). In the fifth round, the bottle finally landed on Thirteen.

"Dare."

Amber's eyes widened like a predator that had found its prey.

"I dare you… to pick one of us… for a round of seven minutes in heaven."

"What is this, middle school?"

Amber raised her eyebrows. "Are you saying no?"

"I'm saying," Thirteen breathed in. "That one of you has a boyfriend, one of you is my boss' boss, one of you is straight, and that you suck at this game."

"Straight girls kiss girls sometimes. It's a thing," Amber shrugged, ignoring the last part of Thirteen's statement.

Cuddy emptied her glass of wine. "This is true."

Brain too sluggish to properly handle… all of that, Thirteen looked over to Cameron, who was really, really beautiful when she blushed, and not by the least on account of the alcohol currently in Thirteen's system.

"Why not," the blonde breathed, her voice laced with something husky and a little dark that Thirteen had never heard before, but desperately wanted to hear again.

"Closet's that way," Amber directed and smiled conspiratorially at Cuddy as the other two women scrambled to get up. Cuddy refilled her wine glass and barked out a laugh with hooded eyes, simultaneously thinking, Oh, to be 27 again, and, Oh, how peaceful it is to be 40.

There was no light inside the closet, the only source of illumination from whatever shone through the crack of the door, and the only sound was each that of the other's shallow breathing.

"Have you ever kissed a girl before?" Thirteen asked.

"No," came the simple reply.

"It's okay," Thirteen said lightly, "Just… follow my lead."

It sounded a little cheesy as she said it, but she figured it's what Cameron needed. Reaching carefully into the dark, Thirteen stroked the backs of her fingers over the other woman's cheeks, and when she felt - heard - Cameron's lips part with a soft gasp, she went all in. 

___

Not soon after Thirteen and Cameron emerged from the closet, skin flushed and hair frazzled, with dazed smiles on their faces, the women collectively decided to call it a night. 

"I will take the couch, if you two don't mind sharing," Cuddy grinned.

"That's, um, fine with me," Cameron said, and Thirteen nodded as well.

"Please don't have sex on our guest bed," Amber warned with a yawn. "Goodnight, ladies. It was a lot of fun tonight."

___

Once in her own bed, Amber leaned over to kiss James. "Goodnight, honey."

"Goodnight, Amber," James kissed her back and reached to turn off the light.

"Goodnight," House called into the darkness from the middle of the bed. "Threesome, anyone?"

Which got him smacked in the arm, from both sides.

___

Thirteen and Cameron were lying in the darkness, facing each other, both wide awake. 

"Cameron?" Thirteen whispered, stroking the other woman's cheek the way she had done hours earlier.

"Mmh?"

"You said you'd never kissed a girl before…" Thirteen stated, dumbfounded.

"I haven't. But…" Cameron leaned closer into her embrace, her lips softly brushing Thirteen's, "you never asked me if I'd kissed a woman."

___

From her spot in the living room, Cuddy could hear the faint echo of what sounded like a heavy make-out session coming from the guest room. She shook her head with a chuckle, making a mental note to send the two lovebirds down to HR the following day, checked her phone one last time for any texts or missed calls from her sitter, and when she found there were none, she closed her eyes and let sleep take over.

[blamemma]

30 maxiel!!!

things I wish you’d said - this literally does not fit this prompt at all really, it does if you squint really hard at the end, but anyway :)) - 2,072 words - yes we're out of the depressed daniel era, but sometimes u just need to sit down and re-visit it for a lil cry

In the end, Daniel has to take a break from everything. Racing. Social Media. Public Events. Every One. Michael. His parents. Max.

He buys a converted van, featuring a sofa that pulls out into a single bed, a tiny kitchen, and a shower he can just about squeeze into, and heads out along the coast of Australia. He turns his phone off for the most part, only using it for Maps and to message the group chat his family forced him to set up every two days, a small update and a selfie, so they know he's okay, alive.

He avoids tourist trap areas; he received enough sympathetic looks and kind words in Abu Dhabi, can't face strangers who barely know who he is or what he feels, coming up to him and passing on their condolences.

He drives and drives and drives and drives.

Open road. Sandy banks. Rock faces and dried out trees. Open barren land with a singular road cutting through it.

He avoids busy restaurants and sticks to quiet bars. Drinks too much whiskey and then passes out on his too small, cold, bed. Stops off at vineyards he's been meaning to visit for years, stock-piles bottles of wine to gift his mum and dad when he eventually arrives back home.

Max had hated the idea. Had come stumbling out of the door of Daniel's home, sleepy-eyed from jet lag, when Daniel had driven up in the van after heading out early to collect it.

He'd looked perplexed, cocked his head as Daniel had clambered out of the driver's seat.

"What is this Daniel?" Max had asked. He'd walked forward to Daniel, still in his sleep clothes, an over-sized Enchanté shirt and tight boxers, arms lifted a little higher than his waist, looking to curl into the side of Daniel's body in the early morning sun that was already blisteringly hot.

"It's my van," Daniel replied. "I'm going to go away for a bit."

Max stopped in his tracks, his hands instantly forming fists at his sides, before stretching out his fingers again.

"What?" He asked again.

"I'm gunna go away for a bit Maxy. Just me. And the Australian Road. Get my head straight."

"No," Max had responded. Daniel knew this would be Max's reaction. It's why Daniel hadn't told him beforehand, had kept the secret since Brazil, an impulse purchase after he'd crashed out in his second-to-last race. "We have just got here Daniel. You are not going to go away on your own. You can stay here or I will come with you!"

Despite Max's defiant attitude, Daniel had won. He'd left Max at his home in Perth, the first time he'd visited as Daniel's boyfriend, a promise of barbeques with family and chasing each other on dirt bikes forgotten. They'd argued, they'd cried, they'd pleaded with each other to understand, but ultimately, Daniel's mind was set.

He hasn't spoken to Max in two-and-a-half weeks now. Doesn't know what he'd say. I miss you. Your love isn't good enough to fix me. I love you. I can't stand the way you pity me.

He doesn't even know if Max is still in Perth. He wouldn't blame him if he'd gone back to Monaco.

His decision had been finalised when his Mum and Dad had arrived in Abu Dhabi. The tears prickling at the corner of his mum's eyes as she'd pulled him in sent guilt washing over him. He'd failed. They'd sacrificed everything for him to drive. And he couldn't give them the one thing they deserved. A Championship.

He'd marked Exmouth as his stopping point, where he'd turn around and head back home, but he arrives, camps under the stars for two days, rents a boat and sits for hours with a fishing rod that's never successful and still doesn't feel complete. Whole. He'd imagined, in the days between Brazil and Abu Dhabi, that this would fix him. That a solo trip would give him all the answers. Show him whether he's happy with this being the end, or driven to find a way back.

Instead, he just feels lost and alone.

He clambers back into his van, pulls out the beaten-up map that came with the vehicle and tries to pick a new place to go. No where strikes inspiration in him though. The big bold lettering of PERTH near the bottom of the map taunts him over and over again and he scrunches the map up, throwing it at the windshield.

Across from where he's parked, just across his van on a grassed area sits a family, at a picnic bench, fitted with a barbeque. Two dads sat side by side, a young son and daughter sat opposite them. Daniel can't tear his eyes away from them, as the kids sit eagerly awaiting their dinner, laughing, conversing. They're happy.

He'd promised Isaac and Isabella in Abu Dhabi that when they got back to Perth, they could come round to his house, and they'd spend hours in the pool and have a large barbeque, and end the night around the fire with smores.

Instead, he'd been too chicken to say goodbye to them.

He'd promised Max that he'd take him hiking at his favourite spot. Take him out on a date to his favourite Italian restaurant. Promised trips to the farmers market, and out for brunch, and endless beach days. Promised him a winter break of relaxation. A Christmas at Daniel's parents, one filled with sunshine and shorts and a mountain of presents.

Instead, he'd made Max fly all the way out here, and then abandoned him. The guilt hadn't left him, not since he'd pulled out of his dusted driveway and away from Max.

He props his feet upon the dash and watches the family as they move about their evening. Burgers eaten far too quickly by the children. A plea from their fathers to at least try the salad they'd purchased. A rugby ball emerging from their bag that they kick around and throw to each other. Small gentle kisses shared between partners, an arm around the waist, one thrown around the shoulder. Kids piling on top of their dads as they fall to the ground in a tackle. Laughter. So much laughter. And joy. And happiness.

Daniel calls Max.

It rings and rings and rings. Then Max's voicemail sets in. Daniel tries again. It rings and rings and rings. He puts his phone down on the seat and starts his engine. He'll follow a road somewhere.

His phone rings. A photo of Max curled up asleep in the sheets of their Monaco bedroom fills the screen.

He answers immediately, clutching the phone to his ear. It's silent on the other end of the line.

"Max?" Daniel asks gently.

"Daniel," Max repeats back to him.

"Max." Daniel says again. "I miss you, I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking, and I'm just so lonely and I hope you're okay, please tell me you're still okay. Are you still in Perth? I'm so sorry Max. I'm gunna drive home. Yeah? I'm gunna drive back okay. You'll be there right? When I get home? I'll make this up to you. Okay--I'll drive home tonight and then tomorrow we can do whatever you want. Whatever you want. " He's crying, and his words are coming out so fast, but the simple sound of Max's voice, the Dutch intonation speaking his own name, collapses him.

"Where are you?" Max asks. Daniel can hear his voice quiver on the other end of the line and a fresh wave of guilt washes over him. He should be there right now, Max shouldn't be feeling this way.

"I'm in Exmouth, it's almost at the tip of Western Australia. So it's about 13 hours to Perth but I can drive through the night Maxy, and then I'll be back home tomorrow. Yeah? Does that sound good?" Daniel selfishly, wants Max to beg him to come home, tell him how much he's missed him, and needs him. Daniel can't even tell if Max is still in Perth, too scared to outright ask.

"You should get some sleep Daniel. And then come home. You should not drive through the night you might crash. And then I will not be able to shout at you for all the horrible things you have done and I will have to attend your funeral with all these unresolved issues of course, so probably my speech would not be that good." The glimmer of teasing that comes through in Max's voice makes Daniel clutch at his chest in want.

"Yeah, okay baby, I'll see you tomorrow yeah?" Daniel asks.

"Yes Daniel. Come home. I will cook dinner for you when you get back. We can have a lovely evening."

"Sounds good. I love you." Daniel responds.

"I love you also." Max says, and Daniel has to hang up quickly before Max catches on to his desperate sobs.

---

He does what Max asks, and sleeps. Not very well, and not for very long, but the next morning, he starts the van up at 5am and drives, joins the open road and heads home. He turns the stereo up, his Max playlist on loud and proud, singing along to the lines that resonate most to him. Whenever he stops off for fuel, and snacks, he texts Max, updating him on his journey and when he'll be home. Max responds to Daniel's first message, when he'd left Max know that he was leaving Exmouth, with Drive safe ❤️, the second message with See you soon! 😁 and the third message with I hope your bum is not feeling too numb!

He pulls up onto his track road and into his driveway just after 8pm and is greeted with a house decorated and ready for Christmas. Lights strung across the porch, pretend Snowman's just beside the front door, mistletoe hanging from above the entranceway. Max had put out all his Christmas decorations from years past.

He's already crying as he fumbles to undo his seatbelt, and stumbles out the drivers door.

The tears start falling when he sees Max running out of the front door towards him, jumping over the steps of the porch and bounding towards Daniel. Max stumbles into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around Daniel and pulling him into him. Daniel collapses into him, exhaustion and want and love all seeping out of him.

"Your mum showed me where all the Christmas decorations were kept last week. I asked her if she could show me. I thought that maybe if you would come home, it would be nice for you to come home to." Max finally says, his voice shaking, speaking into Daniel's neck. "Isaac and Isabella helped. They kept on asking where you were. And I didn't have an answer for them Daniel. I had to tell them that you'd gone on a trip. And then they would ask when you were coming back and I would say I do not know. And then they would ask if we could go and join you and I said I do not think we can. You were cruel, Daniel. You were so cruel."

Daniel finally wraps his arms around Max, kisses the crown of his head and cries with him.

"I'm better now Max, I promise you, I am better." He whispers into his hair. Max's grip around his waist gets tighter, pulling him impossibly closer.

"You never said you were bad, Daniel. I could tell and I tried to help, but you would always shut me down. You never said--"

"I know baby, I know. I'm so sorry."

Max's hand comes to the back of Daniel's neck, holding him tight, his fingers moving through his hair. It's all Daniel needs, he's realised. Is Max. Is Family. Is simple moments.

They both stand there, crying, in each other's arms, birds singing above them, the last remnants of the evening sun warming their backs, until Max, pulls away, intertwining his hand into Daniel's.

"You have to come inside now and eat," Max insists, stepping forward and tugging Daniel's arm. "Your mum has been giving me food every few days and I think that Brad is going to have to work overtime."

Daniel laughs then, his first proper, from-the-gut, endearing, happy laugh, in a long time. Max watches him, the way his eyes light up and his broad smile make up his whole face.

Daniel's back.

Daniel's home.

[goingsunnythousandmerry]

Marco x Reader Fluff Part 1

Author Note: Well my goodness. Did I get carried away. I love Marco and most of the time I can't pin-point exactly why, but the daddy vibe helps. Probably because he is a laid back goofball like me. Anyways, him (Spoiler) chilling on Sphinx Island post break up of the Whitebeard Pirates sent me on many an idea journey, so here is one. No NSFW this time, but I will right an added chapter for this story featuring that if it's what we want.

Anyways, let me know your thoughts, criticisms, requests, and if we want some NSFW with this and what we want. If we want other twists of Marco and his adventures to Sphinx Island and Wano, let me know below! Like, comment, follow. Thanks Friends!

Summary: I'm an OG Ace girl, so this focuses on a reader that was with Ace romantically and Marco was a good friend to her after his death. Two years after Ace's death, she falls for Marco. Includes reader finding out about Ace's death. Comforting by Whitebeard Pirates. Short description of year post- Ace's death. Reader going to Sphinx Island with Marco and developing feelings for him.

Warnings: Fluff, Talk about death of a romantic partner, falling for a friend of said loved one, falling for someone else post death of a partner, needy reader, angst, cuddling, spoilers of One Piece pre-wano, i don't own these characters

Falling for Marco the Phoenix

You watched a few ships of Whitebeard’s allies come into view from a distance. Fewer ships then they had left for the battle came into view from the deck of your ship. You were glad to see some of the crew and your allies were possibly going to make it back. You hoped for all, but you knew that was wishful thinking. You watched and waited as they approached the ship you were waiting on, one of Whitebeard’s fleet that had been kept away from the Paramount War, the Orca. You took a deep breath as the ships grew nearer.

You were a member of Whitebeard's crew. He had taken all but a handful of your crewmates to rescue Ace from his execution by the government. You and Ace were romantically involved, so Whitebeard forbid you from going. He made you stay behind, too worried you’d do something reckless and he’d lose his only daughter. He left you with a few others, who ensured you wouldn’t be able to sneak off and do something reckless. You made a few attempts after pops and Marco set off with the others. Ultimately, one of your fellow cremates helped remind you that you had a role in this war and it wasn’t saving Ace. You were a nurse going on to be a doctor, trained by Marco himself and would need to be there to help heal the injured when they returned.

As the ships began to pull up beside the Orca, you turned away and walked toward the far side of the ship where no ships approached. Too afraid to see who wasn’t aboard, you closed your eyes and deeply breathed in the salty air. Voices began to echo behind you, but you were lost in your thoughts and fears to make out their words. You stared at the sunset in the distance and focused on the sounds of the waves. The crew members who had stayed behind with you helped over those returning from your allied ships. You heard footsteps come up behind you and closed your eyes. Your jaw clenched and your breath caught in your throat.

“Y/N.” Marco said as he came to stand by the ship railing with you.

His body faced yours. He was covered in dirt and some dried blood. His brows were furrowed and a flat expression rested on his lips as he approached you. A breeze blew across the ship as you turned to look at him with your worry filled eyes. As his eyes met yours a soft smile grew across his lips.

“Glad to see you’re okay Marco.” You said as you gripped the rail tighter.

You looked over your shoulder to see your friends climbing aboard and your crewmates hugging. Marco looked on with you for a moment before he softly sighed and looked back out at the ocean before you. You hadn’t seen the tall build of Pops as you scanned the crowd.

“Where’s Pops?” You asked, turning your gaze back to Marco.

“Y/N.” Marco muttered as he grabbed the rail before him. 

“What? Wait… Wh… Where’s Ace?” You asked as you noticed there was no one else climbing aboard your ship.

Macro took a deep breath and swallowed hard. You took a step towards him as his gaze slowly reverted from the ocean back to your prying eyes. 

“Y/N.” Marco said as he adjusted his glasses.

Your face went white and your mouth fell open. You felt your knees begin to weaken. You gripped the rail tighter in one hand and reached for the hem of Marco’s shirt with the other. Your eyes started to water.  Your fingers dug into the rail so tightly they bled. 

“Pops gave his life to get us out… but… but Ace didn’t make it.” He said as his eyes began to water.

Marco leaped forward to catch you as you fell to your knees. Tears spilled down your cheeks prompting Macro to pull you deeper into his chest. His head rested on top of yours as a tear dripped down his cheek.

“Ace.” You whispered.

“Y/N. I’m so sorry. I wanted to be the one to tell you. I didn’t want you to see the paper first. We have him, we brought him back.” Marco responded.

“But Pops promised me…” You started to speak.

“I know Y/N. Now’s not the time for details, but Ace died protecting his brother. He made a choice. I’m sorry he’s not here to explain it himself.”

You buried your head in Marco’s tattooed chest and wailed. He held you and petted your hair. When you calmed down, he carried you to your bed and Izo, your best friend, laid down  next to you. You grabbed Marco’s wrist as he tried to leave.

“Marco, don’t go.” You muttered through with tear filled eyes.

“I have some wounds I still need to patch up. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Izo will stay with you for now.” He replied with a half smile.

You rested your head on Izo’s chest and he played with your hair. He hummed to you softly until you fell asleep. You kept your eyes closed, but began to awake to the sounds of Marco and Izo talking. Your head still rested on Izo’s chest, while Marco stood at your bedside.

“She’s been asleep for hours. I haven’t peed. I didn’t want to wake her. She keeps mumbling about Ace.” Izo whispered to Marco.

“Ace? Marco? Izo?” You questioned with a half lidded gaze.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you hungry? Can I get you anything? Marco asked.

You shook your head and sat up from Izo’s chest. You sat up on your knees and put your hands in your lap. You looked around the room, but only Marco and Izo were there. Your eyebrows furrowed as you turned to face Marco.

“Sorry Izo. You should’ve woken me. Where’s Ace?”

Marco and Izo looked at one another for a moment. Izo nodded to him and got up from the bed. Izo began to exit the room, but stopped at the doorway. He looked back and smiled at you before leaving the room. He gently shut the door behind him as Marco sat down next to you on the side of the bed. He stared at his hands a moment then turned to face you. Marco placed a hand on yours and suddenly, the events of the day came back to you as Marco started to speak.

“Y/N. Ace didn’t make it.” He said.

“Oh, so that wasn’t just a nightmare.” You said as your eyes began to water.

Marco shook his head and pulled you to lay back down and rest across his chest. Flashbacks of memories with Ace ran through your mind and the tears kept pouring down your face. Marco just held you close and rubbed your back.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

Marco. Marco was the man who got you through your boyfriend's death. He was your division commander when you first joined the Whitebeard Pirates. He gave you your tour on your first day aboard. Frankly, you had a crush on him before you met Ace. 

One year after you lost your boyfriend at Marineford, Marco had taken over the Whitebeard Pirates. How he managed to be the ship's doctor, interim captain, and constantly be there for you after you lost Ace, you could never figure out. Marco had stayed by your side every minute he could those first few weeks after Marineford. When he couldn't, he assigned Izo or someone else to be there for you. The first few nights after Ace, he slept next to you, every night, at your request of course, because you were afraid to be alone. He held you those nights, and petted your hair or rubbed your back. When you were comfortable being alone again, he gave you your space, but he regularly reminded you he was there if you needed him. 

He even told you that if you had a bad night, you could simply come wake him or lay beside him in his bed if you needed it. Whatever you needed, Marco wanted to be there for you.

The first few months were full of bad nights, so you regularly went to his room and crawled in bed next to him. You rarely woke him, rather, you just wanted to lay beside him and remember you weren’t alone. On those nights, even if he did wake and notice you, he didn’t hold you. He’d just smile at you, readjust his position, and fall back asleep. You simply slept beside one another, with a small space between you. Though occasionally, your hand fell to rest  upon his chest, he never held you like he had those first few weeks again.

4 months after Marineford you found yourself missing being held by Marco. You found yourself wishing he’d pull you into his embrace when you slept beside him. You still missed Ace dearly and were ashamed of your new thoughts about Marco, so you stopped going to his room. Marco never asked and you never told him why you stopped. Macro continued to check on you, but the check ins became less and less as Marco and the crew planned to go after Blackbeard.

One year after Marineford, Marco, you and the crew went to face off against Blackbeard. It didn’t end well. Most of you managed to return to the ship, but you were all in pretty bad shape. You and Marco worked diligently to patch everyone up, but many remained critical. You and Marco alternated shifts to best monitor your patients. For 3 days all you saw Marco for was  a short shift report and half-lidded gaze. You worried about him knowing how moral on the ship was and how little sleep he was getting.

 Once everyone was out of the worst of it, a few days after the battle with Blackbeard, Marco called a meeting in the dining hall. No one was sure what it would be about. Nerves ran high on board the ship that day leading up to the meeting. At the meeting Marco thanked everyone and announced the disbanding of the Whitebeard Pirates. He reminded the crew that together or apart you were a family, but Pops would want you all to follow your dreams. Without Pops, this pirate crew dream had faded.

You all drank and cried together that night. You and the crew  discussed where and what you wanted to do next. Without any other family, you weren’t sure where you wanted to go or what you wanted to do. You’d loved being a pirate, but you liked the idea of somewhere quiet for  a little while.That night Marco had left the gathering early to head to bed. You had stayed a while longer to drink, sob, and talk with your crew. As more people began to go off to bed, you stared over the railing at the sea and thought of Pops and Ace. Tears dripped down your face as memories replayed over and over in your head. This crew had been your one true family. You understood it was time to part, but you weren’t ready to give them all up at once. You wiped your cheeks, took a deep breath and headed towards Marco’s cabin.

Once you reached Marco’s cabin, you took a deep breath and knocked softly on his door. Marco was sound asleep when you entered. You quietly crawled into bed beside him, but the mattress squeaked as you did. Marco’s eyes began to open and he turned to look at you. He smiled when he saw you.

“Hey.” He said sleepily.

“Hey.” You whispered back with a smile.

As you laid down, you rested your head on the pillow near his head. He was laying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. He slept shirtless, so his tattooed chest was on full display. You desperately wanted to tuck your body against his side and trace his tattoo with the tips of your fingers. You wanted to rest your head on his muscular pectorals and tuck your head under his chin. You wanted him to pet your hair or rub your back. As your mind raced with memories of previous nights laying beside Marco, his eyes glanced over at you. You hadn’t noticed. A smile spread across his face as you took a deep breath and tucked your hands under your cheek, trying to resist the urge to reach for him.

“You have a good night?” He asked.

“Yeah. It was fine.”

“We’re coming up on the one year mark… One year without Pops, without Ace.” Marco said as his gaze returned to the ceiling above him.

“Yeah.” You said softly as your eyes began to water.

“We’ll all just get ourselves killed if we stay together, Y/N. Crews break up. That’s how new ones form.” Marco flatly replied.

A tear streamed down your cheek and you just thought about his words. He continued to stare at the ceiling. You wiped your cheeks and sighed.

“How do you just go back to being alone after something like this, having a family like this?”

“I don’t know.” Marco responded with a sigh. 

Marco looked over at you and wiped another tear from your cheek. He put an arm around you and pulled you into his chest. You rested a hand on his tattoo and nestled your head under his chin, a smile formed across your lips as you did. His hand rested on your waist and you just laid there in silence for a few moments.

“Where will you go, Marco?” You asked hesitantly as you looked up at him.

“I’m not sure yet. Pops had an island under his protection, I may go there and try to keep it safe for a while longer. What about you?”

You thought about his question as you mindlessly traced his tattoo with your finger. He ran his fingers through your hair. You stopped tracing his chest and lifted your head to look him in the eye.

“Marco. I want to go with you.”

“You want to go with me?” He questioned.

“Yeah, I want to help keep Pops island safe for as long as we can. A quiet life for a bit sounds nice, anyway.” You replied as you relaxed back into his embrace. “Is that not okay?” You asked hesitantly, as you pulled away from his chest.

“No it’s just, I didn’t think anyone would want to go with me. I was going to fly, but I can carry you I guess.”He shrugged his shoulders as he answered.

“Okay.”  You replied.

You nestled back into his chest and closed your eyes. His hand returned to your waist and he closed his eyes again. 

—-------------------------------------

The Whitebeard Pirates disbanded and you and Marco headed to Pop’s secret Island. Once on the island, you and Marco found a small village hidden away and surrounded by mountains. The two of you decided it was a nice place to stay while defending the village. Marco introduced himself to the townsfolk and offered his and your medical services to them, while also explaining he was there to protect the island. They were grateful and found the two of you a small two bedroom house to stay in. Marco had explained to them you weren’t a couple, but the house was all they had in terms of extra lodging. Marco, then discussed with them the idea of building another house for you, in case you decided to stay long term. The townsfolk were agreeable to this and the two of you got settled.

In the house Marco took the room on the first floor and you took the room on the second. You unpacked your things and went to one of the town folks' homes for dinner. The two of you returned to your house and Marco pulled out a bottle of sake. You sat together out on your front porch and stared out at the village. You toasted to your new chapter, but reminisced about the old. You talked about Pops and Ace. Marco finally told you about what happened at Marineford. You cried softly as you thought of Ace. You tried to go to bed alone that night, but found yourself knocking on Marco’s door. You slept beside him with your arm outstretched towards his. Your fingers nearly touched, but neither of you moved to make it so.

Marco and you kept busy by helping around the village. You helped teach the children about the world. He helped by giving medical exams to the townsfolk and their animals. You got into a routine, working all day, making dinner for the two of you or joining some of the villagers at night. You laughed and told stories. You danced and you sang together. At night, you’d always find yourself coming back down to sleep next to Marco. He usually pretended to be asleep, but he could never actually fall asleep until you were by his side. He or you always moved close enough that you were almost touching, but never were. 

Everyday, you craved to be in his arms. Everyday, you told yourself you were going to ask him about it. Everyday you chickened out. You loved your life and your routine. After several weeks of being on this island, you began realizing what you loved most about your life, was sharing it with Marco. With this realization, you began noticing your attraction to Marco.

 It started slowly with your noticing how cute his smile was one night. How plump his lips were when he thought hard about something. Then a few days later you couldn’t stop thinking about how he adjusted his glasses when he worked with a patient. At breakfast one morning, you couldn’t stop staring at him as he drank his coffee and read the newspaper. Entranced, by how intensely he gazed at what he was reading, but how delicately his lips wrapped around the rim of his coffee mug. You wondered what they felt like and how they would fit into yours. You found yourself wanting to be closer to him and missing him when he wasn’t with you. You’d find excuses to hand him things in the hopes of brushing your fingers against his. 

One night, while Marco was off helping a villager, you took a shower. As the water poured down your back you thought of Marco. Butterflies danced in your stomach as you thought of another evening, sharing dinner with him, reflecting on your days together, and laughing with him. You began washing the conditioner out of your hair and hummed as you did. You thought about how you met Marco, then it hit you fully. You gasped and dropped your soap as you realized you had feelings for him. 

You quickly finished cleaning up and got out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a towel, and you rushed to your room. You picked up your picture of Ace and sat down on your bed holding it in your lap. You smiled as you stared at it, tears forming in your eyes as you squeezed the picture in your hands tighter.. You raised your thumb to your lips and bit down as tears streamed down your cheeks. You had feelings for Marco. You felt like you were betraying Ace. Ace was your everything when he was alive. You missed him more than you could ever put into words, but he wasn’t here and Marco was. It had only been 2 years, but you couldn’t help but wonder if  that was enough to mourn the great love of your life. Was it okay to be falling for one of his best friends? The guy who comforted you and was there for you when he was gone? 

You were too lost in thought to hear Marco come home. He had called up to you and came up the steps when he hadn’t heard you call back. Your door was open, he saw you sitting on your bed lost in thought and he grew worried. He stood at your doorway and knocked on the door frame. You gasped, dropping the photo into your lap and griping the towel to your chest.

“Hey.” He said gently.

“Hey.” You replied as you wiped tears from your reddened cheeks.

He looked down at the picture in your lap and smiled. He moved to the end of the bed and sat down next to you. You turned to meet his gaze and stared at him blankly, your eyes still glistening with tears. He pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you. You wrapped your arms around him and sighed.

“I know, kid. I miss him too.”

He rubbed your back as you rested against him. Marco put his head on yours. You sat in silence just breathing and holding one another for a few minutes. Tear drops dripped down your cheeks. You pulled away first, your hands slid down to rest on his chest and your gaze shifted up to meet his. He smiled at you and you smiled back. Your smile weakened as you looked down at your hands on his chest with hesitation.

“Marc.. Marco, do you think… Do you.. Do you think Ace … do you think he would want me to find love again or pine for him forever? You asked with uncertainty. 

Marco’s smile faded as he stared at you, his hold on you softening. You lifted your chin for your eyes to meet once again. He laughed softly. 

“I’m sure Ace would have always jokingly told you to pine for him forever, but the Ace I knew wanted to be free and he wanted everyone he knew to be free too. That being said, I don’t think he’d mind if you fell in love again.” Marco replied.

He looked at you then looked away, turning to face the wall in front of him. He brought his hands to his lap and took a deep breath. Your heart sank as he pulled away from you. Your hands fell to your lap. You smiled at him, but it faded as he continued to stare in front of him.

“Thanks, Marco.” You responded as you looked at Ace’s picture one more time.

“Yeah, well sorry to interrupt, I was just worried about you. I’m headed to bed, goodnight.” Marco said barely making eye contact with you.

You tried to reach a hand to him, but he stood up abruptly and walked away before you could. You didn’t understand why he had been so cold at the end of your conversation. You appreciated his perspective though. Marco was right, Ace lived a life of no regrets and became a pirate to be freer than anyone else. He loved to help people discover who they truly were and what would bring them joy. Knowing that about Ace, you thought maybe he would be okay with you moving on. You took a deep breath and kissed his picture, setting it on your bedside table where you had removed it from. You put on your pajamas and crawled into bed. Tomorrow, tomorrow, you would tell Marco you had feelings for him. If he didn’t feel the same, you’d move on. By doing so, you’d have lived the way Ace would have wanted, with no regrets, and you would find a new way to live free. For the first time in a while, you slept apart from Marco to think. 

—------------------------------

Your plan was to tell Marco the next day, but you found it hard to find him. You lived in the same house, but he was suddenly out in the early hours of the morning and not home until late at night. You missed him. You had tried to find him in the village, but he was always busy working, and didn’t have time for you. After three days of this, one of the villagers came to your door and informed you there was a house ready for you to move into. They told you one of the elders of the village was moving in with their children, so their house was soon to be vacant, and Marco had inquired about it for you. The villager had only come by to see if you wanted to see the house. The original plan was for you to only temporarily live with Marco. He and the villagers were going to build you a place or you’d wait for a vacancy, you just wanted time to decide if you were staying or going. You’d fallen in love with this village, but part of that love was living with Marco. Now, here was a villager telling you Marco was kicking you out.

You had to talk to Marco. You searched everywhere you could think of for him and couldn’t find him anywhere. The villagers had no thoughts on where he was either. You finally gave up and decided to wait at home for him. You grew tired of waiting for him late into the night and fell asleep. When you awoke, you went to his room, but found the door shut. You knocked, but he didn’t answer. You fell asleep on the couch in the main room, hoping to catch him in the morning, before he could sneak off again.

In the early hours of the morning, when it was still dark out, a banging was heard at the front door to your and Marco’s home. You awoke on the couch with a gasp. Marco’s door swung open and a shirtless Marco ran out of his room. 

“Y/N, Marco! We need your help!” the voice of a villager yelled through the door.

Marco ran to the door and pulled it open. He ran a hand through his hair and panted as he looked upon the villager. You sat up on the couch and looked upon the two men in front of you. Butterflies swirled in your chest as finally, after days of not seeing him, Marco stood before you. Your mind raced as you looked to the villager. The villager’s eyebrows were furrowed and they looked scared. You tried to calm yourself by taking some deep breaths and turned your attention to what Marco and the villager were discussing.

“What is it? Is someone hurt?” Marco asked.

“Worse. Pirate flags spotted headed to the shore beyond our entrance.”  The villager replied.

Marco’s jaw tightened as he gripped the door knob harder. You clenched the couch harder between your fingers and directed your gaze to Marco. You had both feared this would happen. That’s why he wanted to come here in the first place. 

“Thanks. I’ll handle it. Make sure everyone stays indoors. They won’t make it to the village, I promise.” Marco said to the villager with a nod.

The villager nodded in agreement and ran off. Marco let go of the door handle and ran to his room. You stood up and headed to his doorway. Marco didn’t look at you as you stood there, instead he began rifling through his drawer for some clothes.

“Y/N stay here. Wait for my call, if things don’t work out, I’ll have you take the villagers out of town somewhere safe.” Marco instructed as he zipped up his pants and tossed on his button up shirt.

“Marco, I can help you, you know I can fight. Let me come.” You said taking a step towards him.

“What? You want to help dressed in that?” Marco replied, turning his head to look you up and down. “No, stay here, protect the village.” He said sternly.

You looked down at your outfit. You were in your pajamas, a spaghetti strap cropped tank top and shorts that cut high enough they didn’t cover your whole ass. You looked back at Marco. At least he had looked at you, it had been days since you had seen him last. Marco finished putting on his shoes, then stood up and headed towards you and the front door.

“Marco, I…” You began.

“Not now, Y/N. Just protect the village and listen for my call.” He said as he brushed his shoulder past yours and headed towards the door.

He looked past you as he exited. You watched as he ran out the door and transformed into his phoenix form and took off towards the beach. You ran out the front door after him.

“Marco… Be careful!” You yelled up at him. 

Your eyes started to water as fear grew in your heart. Your breathing shallowed and you heart began to race. The events of losing Ace flashed through your mind. You wrapped your arms around yourself, closed your eyes, and tried to take deep breaths. 

“Marco will be okay.”  You whispered to yourself. 

You exhaled and headed back towards your house. Your House sat primely at an angle where you could see people coming from the one entrance to the rocky enclosed village. You chose to wait there for Marco’s call or for signs of impending attack. Your position would give you time to awaken villagers and direct them to safety, while preparing for attack. Marco had promised they wouldn’t make it to the village and you believed him. You ran upstairs and changed. You changed into a sundress that you had once seen Marco light up, after seeing you come downstairs in. Surprisingly, it was breathable for fighting, but you knew Marco, he wasn’t going to let you do any fighting. He was going to keep the danger at bay. Your dress  was white with blue flowers the color of his sash. It had spaghetti straps and the hemling cut at your mid-thigh. It was a bit low cut and it also had a cutout in the center of your chest to further accentuate your cleavage. 

Yes, you were in a dangerous situation, but you believed in Marco. After he handled this, you knew you were finally going to get your chance to find out what was going on with him. You were finally going to tell him how you felt. You returned to the porch of your house and looked up at the dark clouded sky. Rain began to pour as you stared at the entrance of the village and held your transponder snail. Memories of you and Marco played through your head as you began to hear crashes of thunder and hear the blasting of canons. The sun began to rise, but the heavy clouds kept the world around you dark.

“What will I say to Marco..? He better be okay.” Was all you could think to yourself.

The storm raged on and you continued to wait on the front porch of your home. You thought of calling him, but didn’t want to interrupt. You thought of running down to aid him, but you knew you had to be the defense if he failed. You sat, hands gripping into your thighs as you waited. Your eyes began to water as more time passed, tears slowly dripping onto your hands. The thunder stopped, but the rain continued to fall. You looked at your reddened thighs and wiped your cheeks. A breeze blew by, causing your hair to fly into your face. You looked up to fix it, and saw something in the distance. Something flying above the rocky ledges that blocked all sides of the village. You stood up and ran off your porch into the rain. You raised a hand to block rain from getting your eyes and stared up at the flying image  getting closer. You saw Blue flames whirl, it was like he was putting on a show for you and the village. 

“Marco!” You yelled as a smile formed across your face from ear to ear.

Marco flew to hover over the main area of the village where citizens were peering out of their homes with worry. You stared over at him as the rain continued to fall down upon you. 

“Coast is clear, guys, thanks for your patience.” Marco called. 

“Thanks Marco!” The villagers began to yell up to him.

“Marco!” You called happily.

Marco flew over to you and scooped you up out of the rain. He brought you to the front porch of your home, where he transformed back to his normal self. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace. His wings slowly faded back into his toned forearms. His hands held your waist tightly as yours slid down to rest upon his damp chest. You bit your lip and looked up into his eyes. Now out of the rain, Marco removed his glasses from his pocket and put them back on his face. His hands then returned to your waist.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. You had me worried.” You said.

“I told you I’d handle it. Now why are you soaking wet? I told you to stay here.” Marco questioned.

“Sorry, Commander.” You said with an eye roll.

He laughed in response.

“Marco…” You started to say as your eyes glanced to your hands then back to meet his soft expression. “Where have you been, what’s been going on with you?”

Marco’s gaze fell to stare at his hands upon your waist. His grip loosened, then tightened again as he hesitated. He took a deep breath and lifted his chin. His dark eyes found your (E/C) ones. You smiled at him as he looked at you and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“Marco. I haven’t seen you in days and you tried to kick me out. What’s going on?” You said slowly as you moved one hand to grip his arm. 

Marco took another deep breath and turned to look at the entrance of the village. Still holding onto your waist, he ran his tongue between his lips. He removed a hand from your waist and used it to adjust his glasses. When he was done, his hand once again returned to your waist, but it rested there more gently this time. 

“You asked me about love after Ace… I wanted to let you go if you wanted to go, but it was hard, Y/N. I couldn’t be here and watch, I didn’t want to hear about it.” Marco replied.

You reached a hand to his cheek and gently turned his head to face yours. You stroked his cheek with your thumb and looked deep into his eyes. Your other hand on his chest fell to his abdomen as you stepped closer to him. His body stiffened, as did his grip on your waist. He looked at you, jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Marco, what are you saying?” You asked.

“Isn’t it obvious, Y/N?” Marco questioned as he stepped back from you, his hands falling from your waist to rest against his sides.  “I have feelings for you. I have since the first day I gave you the tour of the Moby Dick. I’ve always felt bad about it, especially after Ace, but I promised him I would protect you, I’d be there for you. I couldn’t help falling for you. Then the other day you asked me about falling in love after Ace and… and I couldn’t watch you fall for someone that wasn’t me again. So I decided to take myself out of the equation.” 

He stepped back further and turned his gaze to the ground. Your hands rested clenched in front of you. The rain began to let up outside of your porch. You closed your eyes and a smile grew across your lips as you replayed the words Marco had just confessed to you in your head. You chuckled, questioning if it was real. Your eyes flicked open and your body relaxed.

“Now who said there was anyone else, but you?” You asked, taking a step closer to him.

“Huh..?” Marco replied, as his head jerked up for your eyes to meet.

“Marco, I’ve been trying to find you for days to tell you I’m in love with you.”

Marco blinked as you nodded at him with assurance. A hand moved to caress your cheek while another pulled you closer to him by the waist. Soft, warm lips pressed against yours. Marco’s kiss was intoxicating, full of a passion you didn’t know he had for anything except pineapples. Your hands wrapped around his neck. The rain stopped on the other side of the porch and the sun began to come out. You heard the sound of villagers cheering as you and Marco finally kissed.

NSFW Chapter to come.

[jaydencoolguy]

George's Relationship with his Father

I have some thoughts about the relationship George McFly has with his dad, Arthur McFly. I'll put it under a cut because it's gonna get long. And I mean long.

Okay, while watching a playthrough of the BTTF game I noticed that George says this:

"Hey, sometimes you gotta go out on a limb for the ones you love, right? I wish MY dad had understood that."

I'm like, "Woah, what? What's his relationship with his father like???" So I head over to the wiki and find THIS:

"Here we see that Arthur is about as wimpy and spineless as George since he gives his son many pathetic reasons not to attend such as college being hard and his grades that he received in school. He even tells George that he will never succeed in life with his current grades and such which could be the primary reason why George becomes a pushover in the original 1985."

Furthermore, he's described to be "a dead ringer for 1955 George in looks, voice, and personality."

Obviously George doesn't (or didn't, since he's implied to be dead) have a very good relationship with his father. But what's really interesting about this is the fact that they're practically the same personality-wise. (They're both pathetic, pushovers, doormats, etc.) Do you think that George sort of resents himself for acting the way he does (or did, in the case of the new timeline)? Because he hurt others the way his dad hurt him, since his actions reflect his father's? God, that's sad to think about.

You would think, in the case of the original 1985, that he would actively try to stray away from being like his father, but obviously, he failed. This is true to real life generational trauma, in which you swear you will never end up like your parents, but you do anyway because the way they treat you and act sticks with you. Yeah, you get the point right?

George's dreams got shot down by his father, and in the original 1985, he didn't have the courage to stand up for himself. Arthur never stood up for him either; and George ends up just like him, albeit more passive... at least he lets Marty do whatever he wants for the most part. Speaking of which, I think Marty serves as an interesting parallel to George's relationship with Arthur, since Marty actually gains a lot of courage and confidence due to the fact that his father is a pushover. George loses more of his sense of self worth because of his dad, since he never believed in or helped him. As a result, he never tries to achieve his dreams and remains unmotivated.

Now let's switch gears to the new 1985. Because of Marty's help, George gains the courage to stand up to his bullies and thus, becomes a more confident person. He gets motivated to do better. I'd like to think that because of this, George also stands up to his dad as well, becoming more successful in the process. I think that he sort of wanted to stick it to his dad, to prove that he can be successful and that he could do anything he set his mind to. This probably pushes George to work harder, which ultimately pays off as seen in the ending of Back to the Future 1. He had achieved his dream as a writer and had a better life overall. However, it seems that George's success hadn't changed his father one bit, as seen in the clip I included above. Even though George ended up happier and wealthier, it didn't mend his relationship with his dad. I don't think Arthur is necessarily a bad person, but he could've definitely been a better father.

This is an almost tragic part of George's character, even in the fixed timeline. It demonstrates how you could be similar, yet so different from your parents. How the way they treat you impacts the way you act, depending on your circumstances and the way you view yourself. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this worthless ramble!!!

[prettybrownelf]

I need Eddie Munson x male reader who Acts lile Wednesday Addams!! Pleaseeeee

a/n- I hope you enjoy!

The Cold Goth And The Eccentric MetalHead

Non MLM/NBLM DNI

Pairings- Eddie Munson x Male Reader

Summary- Eddie finally gets a date with the goth he's been obsessed with

Word Count- 926

Content Warnings- None, Slight Fluff

To say Eddie was excited was an understatement.

He had been working up the nerve to ask you out for weeks, and he honestly didn't expect you to say yes. Of course, you didn't exactly seem excited about it, you just gave him a stone-faced ‘ok’, but that doesn't matter now. He finally gets to go out on a date with the boy he couldn't stop thinking about.

Robin said it probably wasn't a good idea, that you would probably break his heart in some way, but Eddie didn't care. He understood why everyone else would think that about you, but he saw something different. You weren't just a cold-hearted goth to him, there's more to you, and Eddie wants to see it.

Eddie's legs refuse to stay still as he paces in front of the carnival. ‘Did he stand me up? Did he just say yes to get me to go away?’ Eddie's thoughts are stopped by the familiar monotone voice he loved so much. “Munson?” His eyes shoot to you immediately, scanning over your black and white clothes. You stood with perfect posture, hands held firmly behind your back. Eddie a soft smile crawls over Eddie's face as he messes with the chain at his side. “Hey! You look great.” You seem weirded out by his compliment but nod anyway. “Likewise.” Eddie moves to the side and bows jokingly. “This way my good sir.” You say nothing as you make your way past him, Eddie standing beside you as you both make your way into the carnival.

Bright lights and colors surround the two of you as Eddie stops at one of the games. He picks up one of the fake guns as the woman behind the counter takes a ticket from him. Sweat builds on his hands as he tries to keep his concentration straight. ‘Don't embarrass yourself. Don't embarrass yourself.’ But ultimately, he does.

Eddie groans as he puts the gun back, looking at his score of three. The woman shrugs and wishes him luck next time. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly as he turns back to you. “Sorry, I was trying to win you that big back bear up there.” You're silent as you hand the woman one of your tickets, picking up the fake gun. The wooden panels move back and forth as Eddie watches in awe. Your face is straight as normal as you effortlessly hit every single panel. The woman behind the table seems taken aback as she asks which prize you'd like. You wordlessly point up to the large black bear. Eddie stands like an idiot as you look up at him, holding the bear in your arms. “Let's go.”

Eddie follows quickly behind you as you make your way further into the carnival. “Holy shit dude, how’d you do that?” “I loved hunting with my father when I was younger, it was a great bonding experience.” Eddie nods. “I used to hunt with my uncle, mostly deer though. What did you guys hunt?” You look up at him, face never changing. “Anything that wouldn't run fast enough.” Eddie nods slowly as you look away from him. Eddie was getting nervous. You didn't seem to be enjoying your time, no matter how many jokes he cracked you didn't even give a hint of a smile. Eddie walks with you to the entrance as the night comes to an end.

Suddenly, a small booth catches Eddie's eye. “Stay here for a minute.” He says as he runs off before he can hear your response. The old man behind the counter looks up at him and smiles. “Hey, could I get that scorpion necklace?” He nods as Eddie ruffles through his pockets for money. The second the chain is in his hand Eddie runs back to you, quickly thanking the man.

Normally Eddie would try to be more put together, but his mouth is moving before his mind can tell him to stop. “Listen, I know this really isn't your scene, and I'm sorry if this was just a huge bore for you.” Eddie pulls out the small necklace, a small scorpion contained in gelatin in a small jar.

For the first time all night, Eddie sees a spark of something in your eyes. “So I got you this, I thought it was kinda your style.” You wordlessly turn around for him to put it on you. Eddie prays you don't notice how he clearly enjoyed touching your skin as you turn back to him, holding the small jar in your fingers.

Eddie's face lights up as a small smile crawls to your face. “This is magnificent.” But the smile is gone just as quickly as it came as you look up at him. “I will cherish it till my dying breath.” Eddie smiles as he walks you to the front of the carnival. Before he's able to say his goodbyes, you turn away from him. “I really enjoyed our time together tonight Munson, I would like it if we could do this again.” Eddie can feel the blush on his face as you turn back to him, refusing to meet his eyes. “Yeah! Yeah, we can absolutely do this again.” You seem conflicted as you take a small step toward him, Eddie moves closer, feeling his face getting redder. You quickly kiss him on the lips as you immediately begin walking away, leaving Eddie in shock. “I'll see you later Munson!”

Eddie smiles to himself as he watches you go. “Yeah, I'll see you later.”

[undead-supernova]

I'll Pay the Price, You Won't.

Monsters in the Darkest Dark / Masterlist

Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8

plot: "I broke my own heart 'cause you were too polite to do it."

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: media/public scrutiny of reader's body, hurt/no comfort, fighting, mention of smoking, my apologies

wc: 3k

You didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

Honest to God, your intentions were nothing but pure.

And yet, against all odds, your fate was sealed the moment madness broke loose.

The morning had been gentle, awoken by the smell of burnt toast and melted butter. Eyes opening to the sight of Eddie handing you a plate and a cup of coffee. It was simple. Effortless.

He greeted you with a slow kiss, leaving behind the drag of your teeth against his lips. Toast left to grow cold on the nightstand as you dragged Eddie back into bed.

Most of the morning and afternoon seemed to slip away seamlessly, with gentle kisses and sunscreen and the promise of Jeff’s cooking. And it was all fine and good that evening, laughter pouring from your lips as you sat with Eddie. With Jeff, Gareth, Grant, and Ronnie. Playing an awful round of drunken charades and talking about what was next for the band. Wondering what the next album would sound like. Ultimately, Jeff was the one to shut it down, walking into the room with ice cream and a promise to watch Taskmaster.

But Eddie wanted to head to the beach alone, saying he wanted a moment to himself. You couldn’t blame him. This night was especially beautiful, the stars sprinkled against the obsidian of the sky. The air was just right, blowing a cool breeze through your overheated bodies and leaving behind warmth.

You paused at the halfway point between the beach and your shared house, watching him tuck a cigarette between his lips. Told him you’d see him soon. You let him go, disconnecting your matching calloused fingertips before heading back to your room.

Downed a few glasses of water. Laid back on your bed. Grabbed your phone for quite literally the first time since you’d called Este the previous morning. It’d been left idle on the nightstand, finding the lack of connection quite freeing.

But there you were, ready to venture back on. 

So, you opened Instagram.

It was supposed to be a silly little post. Really, that was all it was supposed to be. A moment of nonchalance. Nothing too big. Just a wish for Mary to have a happy birthday tomorrow when you couldn’t be there yourself. A small gesture of appreciation during the stress of finals.

But as soon as it was posted, you saw the comments grow.

And grow.

And grow.

And you knew you shouldn’t have looked.

You knew.

But you did it anyways.

You pressed on that stupid little comment icon.

And you found exactly what you shouldn’t have.

“What?” you whispered to yourself before going to Google and searching your name.

And within seconds, it was there in front of you. Articles splattered with pictures of you and Eddie on the beach. Specifically zoomed in on your stomach from the side. There was one of you and Eddie sleeping, as if that wasn’t creepy enough. Three showed a red circle drawn around your tummy and the appearance of a double chin. And then there was a video of you making out from across the street, laughing and all over each other. One or two pictures of you in the club, dancing in the mosh pit.

Of course, all the pictures made Eddie look good. A fucking dreamboat. But you? Not a chance.

The articles said nothing about Eddie other than feeling bad for him. But for you, they spoke about how you “gained weight.” How you were “unhealthy.” How you looked “horrible” compared to him. That you were letting yourself go, standing next to the Rockstar who’d only “dated” thin girls; healthy girls—trying to make the words synonymous with one another. Trying to tell the public that your normal body was the problem.

And by association, you. You were the problem.

Eddie had promised privacy, safety. That this was an island of seclusion. And here the internet was, laughing at you. Laughing at Eddie for being dumb enough to be with you. Laughing at your relationship. Despite your heated kisses. Despite the grin on his face and his arms around you. Despite every pretty word that left his lips when he was given the chance.

And, yeah, maybe his words should’ve mattered more.

But you couldn’t help but consider it.

Maybe they were right. Maybe you didn’t fit.

And it was only a matter time before Eddie saw it.

You didn’t know what the breaking point was, couldn’t pinpoint the exact cause of the shift. Maybe it was one of the comments, one of the pictures. Maybe it was the metallic taste in your mouth that began to turn sour with nausea. It could’ve been the girl from last night or the way Ronnie never stopped looked at you like you were running out of time.

Regardless, you snapped.

And you knew you had to leave before Eddie had the chance. Find a way to break him gently so he didn’t feel obligated to keep dating you. Out of pity, out of politeness. 

If you left in the night, left in the shadow of the moonlight, maybe it could soften the blow. 

A swift, clean break. 

But as you started packing, you couldn’t help the tears gushing down your cheeks. Voices came at you from every part of your brain, screaming each vile word spoken about you in the last few years. 

It was too much now, the internet doing exactly what it wanted to do. You’d tried not caring. You’d tried to block out the noise and focus on the life you desperately wanted to live. Tried to let the love you and Eddie shared be the only sight, the only sound that mattered. But you just couldn’t take it anymore.

And maybe you needed to leave it all behind. Give the world what they wanted and go dark. Erase yourself from the public, from the narrative, and find a way to fade from view. Vanish into the shadows and let yourself become merely an echo in the ever-flowing chamber of public consumption. 

But where would Eddie be in all of this? What would you do with the silence, with the echoes of him drifting down your hallways? How would you be able to willingly follow that treacherous quiet? And was there any chance of survival?

It all ripped through you, your sobs ricocheting off the walls. 

And it was then that you heard his voice.

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s going on?” he asked, rushing over to you. “Are you leaving? Hey, talk to me. What happened?”

He was so beautiful in his black tank top, hair finally resting over his shoulders for the first time in days. A pretty reminder of just how much this was going to sting.

“I can’t keep dealing with this stuff,” you muttered, zipping up your suitcase. “I need to go.”

“Dealing with what?”

You couldn’t help the bitter chuckle that left your lips as you opened up your phone, still honed in on a TMZ article. He took your phone, eyebrows furrowing as he scanned the pictures. Read the accompanying sentences. 

But then he paused, avoiding your gaze. Voice growing quiet as he said, “I thought you stopped looking at social media.”

“I just wanted to post something for Mary’s birthday,” you explained. “And then…” 

“Sweetheart,” he said gently as he put the phone on the bed. “You’re so beautiful—"

“I don’t believe what they say about me,” you stated, watching his eyes widen as they finally met yours. “I’ll make that clear. I know my body is beautiful the way it is. I know that it’s my body and it doesn’t need to look the way that I’ve been told it needs to. I don’t feel bad about my body.”

“Then why…”

“Because it’s invasive,” you said. “Because I have become a target and I’ve got a lot of easy shots to take. My dating history, my weight. The validity of my bisexuality when I write about men. All of it. 

“Eddie, I am tired of being a joke. I am tired of being seen as some fictional character to write think pieces about and scrutinize and everything else. Maybe I should go into hiding for a while or something.” You shook your head, trying to go back to your frantic packing. “I don’t know. I just can’t be here.”

“I’ll come with you,” he said, pointing at his pile of clothes in the corner. “We can go back to New York and—"

“No,” you said harshly, looking at him. “I don’t want you to come with me.”

Slowly, he lowered his arm. “Uh, why not?”

You paused, knowing you had to deal the blow. Even if it was the last thing you ever wanted to do. “Because I don’t know if we should keep going. I don’t know if this is good for us. For you.”

He flinched away from you; eyes still boring into yours. “What the fuck are you even saying? That you’re just giving up on us because of strangers on the internet?” He scoffed. “Like they matter? I mean, what do they have to do with our relationship?”

His eyes widened, the reality of the situation washing over him. “If their dumb opinions win right now, what does that make me? Collateral damage? Or does that… Does that mean that I’m the problem?”

“Eddie, you’re not a problem at all—"

“It sure sounds like it,” he interrupted. “What’s the common denominator in all this? I asked you to be mine. I’m the one who got you the bikini. I’m the one who asked you to come. I’m the reason you’re given this shit.” He let out a short laugh. “I guess I’m the problem in this equation, huh? Gotta cut me out.”

“No!” you exclaimed before pointing at your chest. “I’m the problem, Eddie! It’s me!”

“Bullshit.”

“Eddie…”

“You act like you’re some problem for everyone,” he started. “With all these fucking people that love you, that see that goodness in you—see the real you. Like…you don’t even realize how much you actually shine.” He sighed, shaking his head. “And yet, you chose to be with me. I didn’t even really understand why, but I was just fucking happy to be yours.”

“Eddie, please,” you whispered. You didn’t know what you were asking. For him to stop saying these things? To stop fighting for you? To give up when you wanted nothing but to stop hurting him? 

Eddie took a step forward, eyes never leaving yours. “And I was so fucking happy because I’m crazy about you. And I thought you were, too.” He paused before his face drew closer. “Are you?”

You sniffled, no longer trying to wipe away your tears. And you cracked, unable to stop yourself from nodding. Because Eddie was what made you weak, made you bend. 

His face was so close, and his cheeks were flushed. You could smell the ocean and the faint hint of nicotine wafting off him. Could feel your callouses brush up against one another. And you were curling into yourself, daunted by the weight of his presence. By his stare.  

How could someone like Eddie still want you through all of this?

“Y-yeah,” you uttered. “Yeah, I am.”

Closer now, his forehead met yours. But your eyes still held each other, neither one of you able to look away.

“Then why can’t that be enough?”

A ragged breath left your lips. “We know why.”

“They don’t matter.”

“Maybe they’re right,” you whispered. “Maybe they see what we can’t.”

His features softened, his lower lip beginning to tremble. “Am I not worth it?”

You shook your head. “Don’t say that about yourself. Please.”

“You told me last night that you never wanted to be with anyone else,” he said, jaw tightening as his eyes glassed over. “And now you’re breaking up with me? Did you really just lead me on for six months? ‘Cause I thought you wanted to stay. That…that, I don’t know, you trusted me. Trusted what we have. Because it’s real. It’s all real. At least…at least it is for me.”

He took a step back, shaking his head. Emotions darted across his face, seeming to change every few seconds.

Frustration, anger. 

Sorrow, grief.

And then he sniffled. Tears spilled over. His face fell into a scarlet flush, lips curling open as a sob left his mouth. 

Every little detail that was surely going to haunt you for the rest of your life. 

“I just don’t fit in your world,” you whispered.

“That’s fucking horse shit,” he cried, furiously wiping the tears from his eyes. “You fit in so perfectly to my life. Can you not fucking see that?”

You could only reflect him, trying to cease your tears as you watched your hearts break in real time.

“I don’t,” you whispered. “You just don’t see that yet. I’m doing this for you.”

“No, you’re doing this for you.”

“This is the right thing to do!” you exclaimed, a hiccup escaping your lips. “This is how I protect you!”

“This is how you protect yourself.”

“Eddie, please. You can’t see it yet, but I promise I’m not good for you.”

Everyone knows it, you wanted to say. They see right through me.

And in due time, he would, too.

Eddie stepped towards you, lifting his hand to your face as if he was going to caress your cheek. But he stopped, curling his fist before bringing it to his lips to try and suppress a hiccup. Shook his head. As if he knew he had lost. As if this battle was already over and he was collecting his participation trophy.

“If you do this, you’re hurting me!” he exclaimed, gasping. “And if you sit there and act like you’re not good enough for me? You’re not just wasting that shit on yourself. You’re losing me in the process.”

“Eddie, I…” You couldn’t even finish your sentence. It was all there, lodged in your throat, unable to escape.

“Do you want to lose me?” he asked, tugging at his hair. “Do you care?”

“You know I care,” you said harshly. “That’s why I have to do this.”

“No, no, no. I’m showing my cards, okay?” he croaked, pressing his hand against his heart. “I don’t want to be with anyone else. I want you. I want a life with you, and I don’t want to sit here and have to wonder what anyone else thinks about it. I meant it when I said I wouldn’t trade you for the world.

“Could you say the same?”

Your eyes darted between his, soaking in his words as they spilled from his lips. He was saying all of the right things, all of the tiny things that made you want to cave. Made you want to call this off and get into bed. Forget that you ever made a decision. But you knew that you had to do this. If it wasn’t now, it would happened eventually.

And your silence was enough for him.

 “I just,” he sighed. “I love you.”

A short gasp left your lips.

He’d said it. He actually said it.

And you were still standing there, saying nothing.

Doing nothing.

Eddie crossed his arms over his stomach, digging his fingernails into his elbows. You could see him pushing into his stomach. 

“Say something,” he pleaded.

“I’m setting you free, Eddie,” you replied, barely above a whisper. “Goodbye.”

Grabbing your suitcase, you reluctantly took a few steps towards the door.

“Why do you have to do this?” you heard him whisper, voice cracking. Like he was saying it to himself. Like he knew that this was done. 

You turned back.

“I’m here fighting for you. And you’re just…walking away.”

And though you watched him fall to his knees, cries getting louder, you didn’t help him up.

You wanted to. Oh, how you wanted to fall back into him and explain that you wanted him so badly that it was tearing you apart. That you also wanted to fall to the floor, contort yourself into a fetal position and hyperventilate. That you understood. 

But you didn’t.

Like a coward, you walked away. 

You sat on a bench by the pier for a while, sobbing into your hands, drenching your skin in salty tears. Listened to the crashing of the ocean, the white noise driving you to the brink of insanity. You stayed there until the sun came up, regretting everything you’d said. Everything you did. 

But it was already too late, catching the first boat back to the mainland.

So now you were sitting on the back of a boat, staring at the empty dock as you waited to pull away.

And in the distance, you thought you saw Eddie standing there.

But it wasn’t him.

It was Ronnie, with her arms crossed over her chest, giving you a scowl. Body rigid as she watched you go.

“You’re nothing but a coward.”

“I know you’ll gladly throw it away just because it isn’t the fucking fairytale you imagined.”

But there was one other thing Ronnie had said to you, the one that stayed stuck in your mind the entire way back.

“Don’t drag someone into your fucking mess if you can’t clean it up.”

And that’s exactly what you were. A godforsaken mess that had to be removed before you could ruin Eddie’s life any further. And if it cut you to the core, sobs wracking your body the moment you fell into Scott’s arms at the airport, then so be it. 

“What did he do?” he asked, pulling you further into the private lounge.

You merely shook your head, clutching your fifth tissue smattered in tears and snot. “It was me. I’m just a fucking mess. A stupid, idiotic fool. A coward. A fucking idiot. I—” 

You choked on another sob, curling further into his chest.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” he whispered. “You’re not any of those things, okay? You’re only human.”

Not to anyone else, you wanted to say. I’m not a human being. I’m just a machine for others to gawk at. 

“I wish I could go back to the beginning.”

“As much as I wish I could take you back…” Scott sighed. “Darlin’, none of us can go back.”

Seven hours later, you ended up back at your New York house without paparazzi sneaking into the airport. Sat in the deafening silence, all alone. Went to your bed, alone, staring at the made bed. Shook your head. Decided to go back downstairs. Laid on the couch, curling into a fetal position.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there, making yourself as small as you could. But you watched dusk turn into dawn. And as the cold light of morning washed over you, you realized that your life was never going to be the same. Eddie Munson was gone.

And as far as anyone knew, so were you.

as always, a big thanks to @strangergraphics for her lovely dividers. sorry to *gunshot* you all in the process of releasing this!

[yourhighness6]

A Yue Stan's Thoughts on Yue's Character in NATLA

As much as I appreciated what NATLA was trying to do and think it is worth a rewatch, can I just say as an unapolagetic Yue stan that they completely ruined her, and Yukka by extension.

And say whatever you want about her scenes leading up to the sacrifice (which did make me cry, I'll admit, her speech about living was actually a nice addition), but it was actually this line that left me absolutely seething and in my opinion proves that the writers completely misunderstood what made the sacrifice so powerful:

I actually had to pause the television and collect myself after this one because holy fuck is this the stupidest thing I've ever heard. The entire point in the animated show was that she didn't get to make her own choices before this point. She didn't get to choose who to marry, she didn't get to choose her role in society, she didn't get to choose basically anything about her life besides maybe how to style her hair or something. Yue was a character who was extremely dutiful, but also extremely boxed in by her duty. It was both her greatest strength and her greatest weakness, a parody of itself, just as her mere existence was a parody: while she was saved by the moon spirit as a child and allowed to live on, it was that very reason that she eventually gave up her life. And the very fact that she was given these choices in the first place in the LA seriously undermined the idea of her sacrifice. Yue was told her entire life what to do, and although she did manage to find a bit of freedom through her brief romance with Sokka, ultimately, she still didn't get to publicly be with him or reject Hahn or anything similar. Her sacrifice was what she saw as her duty, yes, but her sacrifice for her people was also a way of standing up for herself and finally resolving to make her own choices. In that moment, she not only saved her people, but she finally made a decision for herself instead of doing something someone else told her to, even going against Sokka's wishes to do what she thought was necessary. So in the LA, with her having a place of influence in her community, with her being able to call off her engagement, with her being told that she could one day be chief, to that stupid fucking line implying that she was in no way ever repressed and free to make her own decisions the entire time, removing all of her character growth and any character significance to her actions, it was all basically pointless. It made Yue into a plot device for Sokka to bond with and to move the Aang-and-Kuruk plotline forward. In the animated series, Yue was not a plot device, and she was extremely well written, whereas in NATLA, her character fell completely flat. She talks about responsibility and pressure in her first scene with Sokka, but other than that, she has no depth. In other words, she has no depth besides her relationship to him.

Anyway, I hope we can all agree that her characterization and a lot of the decisions made in the last two episodes of NATLA were nothing but a pile of bulshit. From Iroh killing Zhao to Yukka having zero chemistry to Katara just magically becoming a master to Zuko being shelved to the plotline about Aang not feeling like he belonged having absolutely no buildup beyond a throwaway line in the second episode to everything about Yue I spelled out above, I would go as far to call it just plain bad. Again, I'm glad it got renewed, and I'll be the first to say a lot of other episodes get unnecessary hate, as well as that we are working with slightly different characters (especially Azula) in this version than the first, but I was really disappointed with seeing Yue in LA for a second time.

[pomplalamoose]

Hey bae 🙏 do you think we could get something about turning sith!luke to the light side?💗

Hiii dear anon, thank you for your ask🩵

It's been a while since I received one and I'm sooo excited, especially since I get to talk about Sith!Luke, my beloved

I wasn't sure what exactly you wanted but I hope you like this discussion of possible scenarios anyways <33

• when it comes to turning Sith Luke back to the light, I think it really depends how and why he choose the dark side in the first place and what interpretation of him we're talking about

• if, for example, he turned during the original trilogy, you'd have to approach him differently than it would be the case if he grew up raised by Vader

• while his struggle to remain on the right path for himself and the galaxy is often highlighted in the movies and books, trilogy Luke never strays too far away from what Obi-Wan and Yoda taught him

• he certainly has his darker moments in which he considers everything he loves lost, but ultimately, even then, he'd rather sacrifice himself for the greater good than reach for the power Vader, and later the Emperor, offer him

• "Never. I'll never turn to the dark side"

• "Soon I'll be dead and you with me"

• so should he fall or, for whatever reason, deliberately make the decision to join the dark side, I see two possible ways in which this could turn out, his stubbornness and wish for justice and equity being one of the more important factors

• 1) he's convinced it's for the best and in favor of many

• it's hard to resist a seemingly easy solution in times of crisis, especially if it's offered in a tempting way and Luke is by no means unreceptive to manipulation

• however I do believe he'd realize his misconception rather quickly and so the most prominent thing keeping him from pursuing the light again wouldn't be his ignorance but his deep shame

• because of the weight he carries he's very hard on himself and no less so as a Sith

• consumed by the dark side he'd probably be less focused on improvement but on self doubt and hatred instead

• he may even go as far as to remain in this situation willingly as a way to punish himself

• not only would he think himself deserving of being miserable but also think it's for the better if he never comes near his loved ones again, afraid to hurt them

• here his stubbornness hurts him decidedly more than others because obviously there's still good inside of him, he just isn't allowing it to be there in favor of another misconception and self doubt

• ("I don't deserve to be around my family after what I did.", "Because what if I'm truly evil and don't know it?", "What if they fall victim to one of my mistakes and get hurt?")

• in this case it'd definitely be possible to make him see reason

• Luke is able to and eager to learn from the past, as well as adapt to a new point of view

• if he can believe it's for the best to join the dark side, he can believe the opposite once more

• it may need patience and coaxing, much affection, assurance and insistence but through your love (romantically as well as platonically) he'd be able to find himself again

��� 2) his opinion of the galaxies political situation changes to such an extent that he's convinced his fall to the dark side is genuinely important in order to implement a just system

• I will be honest, I have no idea how that would even happen but let's stick with the idea anyways because we're taking about Sith!Luke here

• (maybe he was brainwashed???)

• in this scenario I imagine it to be rather difficult to make him reconsider

• not only is he now convinced of what he's doing is inherently good but also of the fact that the people not sharing his opinion have some devious plans to make those he's so set to protect suffer

• Luke firmly stands by what he believes in and while that is a wonderful attribute to have it's rather problematic when it's used for harm

• that man is ready to fight for his convictions and I see him defending them in a way similar to how he resisted the dark side in RotJ

• he's still Luke though and not stupid, I belive it still possible to reason with him especially if you're someone he admires or otherwise holds dear

• in order to get him to listen to you though you'll need time and patience to get under his skin

• now let's take a quick look at the interpretatiom of the Sith!Luke I write about

• to some extent he's still the same person as trilogy Luke but while they share certain traits, they turned out like opposites due to the circumstances they were exposed to during their lifes

• basically my Sith!Luke is a "What if Luke and Leia were raised with the dark side by Darth Vader"-version in which he grows up in a galaxy after the Empire defeated the Alliance and thus doesn't know anything about Jedi since they just,,,don't exist anymore

•(granted, this is a rather dark AU but I saw no other way in which Luke would act like he does in my fics, without any hope of him changing his ways)

• (there are of course works that discuss a different outcome, exploring Luke turning to the light side despite being raised as Sith, so it is of course a possibility if that's what he's set up to do)

• (I, however, like to center my Sith!Luke around the idea of just that being unthinkable since it's so far fetched and ooc for a person so full of light and good)

• (please keep that in mind when continuing to read, xx)

• this too is the only case in which I think it wouldn't be possible to turn him to the light side because the concept in itself is a foreign and outdated one

• it does exist, yes, and Luke is aware of it too, after all he's well studied and educated, has to be if he is to be the successor of his father

• but it is nothing that seems worth looking into further since the classical "fight" between good and bad is a thing of the past

• because while Luke may not agree with every political stance his family takes he knows he'll be the Emperor sooner than later, able to make changes as he likes

• in this regard, depending on the role you take on in his life, you might be able to slightly influence his decisions and/or his treatment of a certain group of people

• if you're important enough to him he'll listen to what you have to say, though he won't necessarily implement it into the system

• you are well advised to approach such attempts carefully though since you don't want him to suspect you of disregarding his status and position

• or, even worse, want to alienate him from his family and loved ones

• because no matter the universe, Luke would move worlds for those he cares for and accordingly (mainly Sith!Luke) grows easily suspicious when someone so much as questions their behavior, motives, etc. or insinuates to be against them

[insomniac-101]

Metacrisis Doctor Character Analysis

Sooooo… I heard some of you are still on the fence about Tentoo.

Now, why you would be is completely understandable. I mean, it took me rewatching the show as an adult to really understand the nuance behind his ending but it’s been years, and it truly saddens me to see that there is still so much confusion surrounding his existence. Especially since he essentially reaffirms the overarching message of the show, and without him, it would not be as impactful.

But no fear! I love analyzing this era in particular and so, it would be an honor to share with all of you my interpretation of how he fits in Ten’s overall development as well as the potential questions raised by his existence. 

After all, he is such a great addition to canon and so I wish to spread my excitement now that there is a chance we might see more of him!

(P.s I swear I will get to Ten eventually lol but his character in particular tends to mesh into other character arcs so much, that it is easier to address them in parts rather than all together.)

Now then, let’s set something straight from the get-go. 

Tentoo’s existence does not get in the way of the Doctor and Rose’s romance. It is actually quite the opposite, it only goes to reaffirm how much they love one another. 

How they were essentially made for one another (Literally and figuratively lmao).

So much so, that Ten was essentially split into two as a means of holding onto the hope of keeping her in his life.

To reduce his existence as a mere love rival, in my opinion, is such a disservice to the narrative because not only does it imply that Rose’s ultimate choice to be with Tentoo is shallow but it also does not take into account crucial aspects of the Doctor’s character arc overall. Who by extension, also applies to Tentoo.

During his tenure as the Doctor, we observe Ten's strong inclination to merge with humanity, as he fervently yearns for it. That increasing temptation is what often puts him at odds with his role in the universe, and in turn, compels him to uphold strict barriers between himself and other humans. Even if it means causing harm to himself and the people he holds dear

As the only time lord in the universe, he cannot afford the luxury of possessing a human life, so he attempts to convince himself that his fascination with our way of life is merely admiration, rather than a genuine desire to experience it firsthand. Thus, he considers himself an outsider because he realizes that if he were to succumb to his desire, his happiness in experiencing it would be fleeting.

Despite his longing to experience a different way of life, he cannot bring himself to give up his identity as the last living time lord, as that would mean forfeiting an essential aspect of himself and the final vestiges of his people. Thus, although he may yearn to live a more leisurely existence, he would never do so, as it would entail sacrificing too much. 

Not to mention, it would mean pitting his own needs against those of the world, and his selflessness would never allow that to happen.

At least, not yet anyways.

In spite of his upbringing, his rebellious attitude that made him stand out amongst other time lords made him curious and flighty. Often roaming the universe in an attempt to find strange occurrences that counter his understanding of how it works. He finds joy in living a life on the run, and for a while that is all he really wanted.

However, with constantly moving, there comes a point where one realizes that there is no one to return to. That the thrills only serve as a distraction of what is actually compelling him not to remain stationary, and by not stopping to consider what he is leaving behind, he is not being conscious of the consequences. 

The Doctor's decision to become a wanderer stands in stark contrast to the nature of his people.

A problem that only worsens once the time war effectively orphans him.

Traveling and saving others allows him to put aside all his self-loathing and forget what it feels like to be utterly alone, but it is not enough to fill the void of loss. Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying this is a solely negative thing by any means, but the manner in which he utilizes it is harmful because it comes at the cost of never changing his tendencies to self-sabotage. Given that he doesn't stick around long enough to have it catch up to him.

Frankly, it enables his assertion that he doesn’t deserve happiness and so he never seeks it out, in spite of knowing what it is he wants.

In his eyes, it is easier to let go than to let in. 

To fall deeper to cynicism and negativity because it protects him from further pain

 And boy does the narrative pull the ultimate uno card on him, flipping his whole perception on his manner of living by introducing one major character. 

The individual, who practically embodies this very temptation is none other than Rose Tyler.

It is her introduction into his life that almost seems to further prod at this desire of his. Before,it appeared that he watched human life from a distance simply because it was less painful than being alone and grieving the loss of his own people. But with her, he is left to consider whether he could actually experience something as deeply fulfilling as love. Whether a man drenched in the blood of his kind is worthy of change and forgiveness. It is because of this that his final act as Nine is one of self-sacrifice, as he dies hoping that this new form will embrace the humanity and kindness that she utilized to save him in his darkest moments

But between him and humanity will always be a barrier, which is all the more tragic once one considers how Ten was born out of Nine’s pursuit of it. It makes the unattainable nature of it, all the more hurtful.

Now I can name multiple examples of this longing being implied all throughout the RTD era but I assume most people know what they are. I mean they’re not exactly subtle lol but I urge you to keep those in mind as I continue.

With that in mind, however, I can now address the most overt display of this desire of his and that is none other than in the episode “Human Nature.”

Within this story, we are introduced to John Smith. A persona, that was curated by the Tardis as a means of saving him from falling victim to a gang of evil shapeshifting aliens. Here, we are shown a version of the Doctor that is weirdly familiar but at the same time, completely different.

However what I make of these differences is not really to prove that they’re so different that they're incomparable, but rather that they share way more than one would think at first glance.

John Smith is unremarkable. He is kind, intelligent, witty, and imaginative in the ways the doctor is but his demeanor is drastically different. More often than not, being seen as quiet and shy, and more of a follower than a leader.

I don’t think him taking on the role of a soldier in his final moments is a coincidence. Rather it is a testament to who the time lord is: a traumatized man who has a knack for finding himself in the same position over and over again because he has a tendency of repeating mistakes.

Think about it, in the war, the Doctor was not one who stood to the side and never took part in the violence. He admits that he took an active part in the fight, with him being the one who ultimately stopped it against his better judgment. This is to say that this more obedient version of himself (that seemingly seems fine with physical punishment and sacrificing the life of his students, if it is not under his call) isn’t really all that foreign to us given that at one point, he assumed a similar role in the time war. His ability to resort to violence, even when human, is a testament to this. That he is bound to his past deeds and that a human life will not change that he is deeply changed by this event in time lord history.

He is more prone to violence when prompted and he is not one to disregard an order that is given to him. He even seems to be more classist by nature of living in the current time period. So much so that he doesn’t seem to form much of a bond with Martha in spite of them spending so much time together under her employment.

Although he is brave when it matters, there are moments when Ten can be rather cowardly. And that holds true to both John and the Doctor, with both seemingly running the moment they are confronted with the consequences that come as a result of their impulsive decisions. This knack for running from their problems never impedes their awareness that what they are doing is incorrect but nonetheless, it's that temptation to defy the unavoidable that makes them avoid confrontation. Resorting to denial as a scapegoat, before ultimately returning to do what is right. 

While the Doctor's innate selflessness sets him apart from others of his kind, he is still susceptible to making similar mistakes.

That haughty, and arrogant nature of his people are the very same qualities that can be found in him. This is especially shown through the manner in which John interacts with people he perceives as below him.

The culture of time lords is quite classist by nature. They assumed themselves to be the rulers of the universe and claimed superiority over other races because of their advancements. It is because of this complete disregard for others that aren’t themselves that they suffer greatly in the war.

With that said, it is because of this that I think he is able to assume a more indifferent demeanor towards the servants in his household. Mainly because a huge part of who the Doctor became was a direct result of the opposition he held toward the beliefs of his own people. He found their rules arbitrary and outdated, but just because he knew better does not mean he is exempt from repeating their mistakes even when he is conscious of who he is.

No this manner of assuming self importance takes on a different form, when he is aware of it.

He often assumes himself untouchable and the wisest in the room, and wields his status as a time lord as a means of making sly comments toward humankind. Of course, one could argue it is harmless as it does not come from a place of malicious intent. However his assumed superiority can make him incapable of recognising his own faults as a person, which can lead to disastrous results. Especially when he seemingly doesn’t consider the consequences of his involvement in other people’s lives.

Something that Joan points out.

“Answer me this, just one question, that’s all. If the Doctor never had visited us…never chosen this place on a whim, would anyone here have died?”

To completely deprive him of his timelord nature, would mean to leave him vulnerable to adopting the very same attitudes he resented in his own culture. This is why John Smith does not respect the opinions of his employees, in spite of knowing better than to underestimate the importance of the people around him. It would make him unable to recognize the patterns of discrimination elsewhere as he is no longer privy to the wisdom he gathered from his years of living.

By completely adopting humanity, he is none the wiser to fall into their faults as individuals.

That being said, this quiet side of him is really not that strange either once one considers that we have seen that Ten in particular has a knack for hiding his feelings behind a mask of cheerfulness. This version of himself may not be boisterous and loud, but that does not make him any less thoughtful. Shown to have strong stances on certain matters even if he doesn't share them with others. He is more honest with his feelings, and with this comes perhaps the biggest indicator that John Smith shares a lot more with the Doctor than we initially thought.

John Smith falls in love.

It is no coincidence that in this very episode, he develops romantic feelings for the school nurse and he has a dream about Rose Tyler. One where she keeps walking away but all the more, he is motivated to follow. All for the sake of recovering a “perfect Rose.”

Even when he is fully human and not aware of who she is, there is a part of the Doctor that fiercely hangs onto her, manifesting in his dreams. The thought of being with her and finding her, is of the utmost importance even when he cannot seemingly remember why. Which goes to show you just how much the Doctor treasures the love he has for her. It is she, that is able to tempt these feelings even in her absence because she is the reason they exist to begin with.

This inclusion of her in the story ties his pursuit of humanity into a pursuit for her. Making both the main motivation behind his need to experience it, even if he is not fully aware of why.

“You knew this all along and yet you watched while Miss Redfern and I …”

“I didn’t know how to stop you. He gave me a list of things to watch out for, but that wasn’t included.”

“What falling in love? That didn’t even occur to him?

“No”

“Then what sort of man is that?”

This is why John Smith expressing horror at the thought of there being a version of himself that cannot love someone is so heartbreaking. Because through him we know more than ever that that is not true, that he is more than capable of loving others as the Doctor but the problem is that he never would allow himself to do so. It is not a matter of whether or not he can, but rather why he can't.

When John chooses to sacrifice himself, it mirrors the same actions the Doctor takes in his present life. Choosing to leave behind what he wants for the sake of what the universe requires him to do. 

So when he reasons with Joan that John Smith is still a part of him, he means it. For it is an expression of the Doctor at his most vulnerable and honest, that allows for the existence of someone like John Smith. But alas, his life is not a life he can assume given his alien nature.

But with this choice to live on, as is, we are only left to come up with a single conclusion.

In order to live a life that is both fulfilling and meaningful, the Doctor can neither be fully human nor a timelord. 

Although he is a timelord, the overwhelming sense of loneliness that he experiences is debilitating. He can try to reason his way around needing companionship and love, but no amount of thinking will deny that it is something he desperately craves.

Humanity provides him with all the necessary attributes he lacks, but in exchange, it demands that he sets aside his principles as a protector of time. To put aside his own fears of seeing those he loves wither away if it means he'll get to know them for the entirety of their short lives. 

Individually, achieving either one is impossible since pursuing a single path would leave the other side of himself unfulfilled. He is at war with himself, essentially.

Therefore, he must endeavor to discover a balance between the two divergent viewpoints, instead of attempting to abandon one in favor of the other.

….Guess who embodies middle ground is?

Tentoo represents that balance, down to the biological level.

In order to understand why though you have to understand one crucial detail: Ten and Tentoo are the same person.

What Tentoo is, in relation to Ten, is himself lol

A regeneration that went wrong because the regeneration energy that was meant to heal the time lord body, was siphoned into his once freshly regenerated hand. In other words, instead of remaining within one body like the usual regenerative process, it was put into a separate vessel that came from the original body. Which allowed it to regenerate the body it was missing, and essentially created what would be a second Doctor.

The reason why this process differed from previous regenerations is due to the fact that the transferred regeneration energy was already partially depleted, resulting in a reduced dosage that could facilitate partial healing but not a complete regeneration.

(It was established prior to the Christmas invasion that there are limitations to the cellular energy that a time lord uses to regenerate, mainly in the sense that it can run out. When in small quantities, however, it can be used to heal smaller injuries if it is used within the first 15 hours of a regeneration cycle. It's this small amount he has left that allows him to regenerate the hand he lost to begin with.)

We are aware of this fact because the time lord Doctor utilized a portion of the energy to recover from the Dalek's attack, but not a sufficient amount to trigger a full regeneration. This is why he sends the rest into his severed hand, because if not, the cycle would have proceeded.

Due to this, however, the energy seems to not be able to proceed with anything it was planned for. So it sits on standby, not by choice, but because the hand itself is technically a regenerated hand. It can't do much other than wait until it receives more energy from the original time lord body or find another source of energy that is compatible to recover the body of the disembodied hand in its entirety.

So what ends up happening?

It's Donna.

Donna is what ends up happening.

Upon touching it out of curiosity, Donna appears to experience no immediate negative effects.. This serves as another indication that the remaining regenerative energy was minimal, as we, the viewers, are well aware that the standard dosage would be detrimental to humans.

However, this is where it gets interesting because seemingly the energy is utilized in a manner that is unlike any prior regeneration process. 

As previously mentioned, it can be deduced that the reason why other time lords never considered becoming human as a way to avoid regeneration was due to their sense of superiority. They did not view humans as equals, therefore, a human existence would not be regarded as advantageous.

Furthermore, their society places little importance on outward appearance due to the frequency with which time lords undergo transformations. Thus, this occurrence is primarily a result of Ten's deviation from their viewpoint on regeneration. He perceives it as a form of dying, akin to the experience of a human, even though this does not apply to him.

It is worth considering the anatomy of a time lord when attempting to comprehend how he appeared to transform into a hybrid. According to our understanding, although they appear human on the outside, a time lord's body contains numerous organs that are absent in a human body. As a result, it is theoretically more intricate than that of a human, but at the same time, similar enough to be somewhat compatible as a point of comparison.

Given the limited amount of energy remaining, it would be logical for the energy to use a human body as a template when attempting to essentially create a new body out of nothing.Not only because Donna was the only one available to touch it, but because the anatomical similarities as well as the less complex nature of a human body would prove to be easier to make than a fully timelord one.

In other words, the regenerative process was utilized as a means of healing both bodies without resulting in a complete regeneration, which is what makes this instance unique.

(that we know from prior scenes, at times, requires so much energy to heal that that it is capable of damaging the Tardis)

This is why he says that he essentially came out of Donna. Because in a way, he did. His body was fashioned off of her biological makeup as a means of compensating for the lack of cellular energy used to heal his body normally.

This is why it in turn makes her half time lord, because the energy changed her according to the metacrisis. Transferring Time lord DNA into her, as a means of making up for the loss of DNA she experienced in the process.

But where the two differ is in creation. Donna was already human. Herbody is that of a full human, not of a hybrid. Her brain in particular is not capable of handling the centuries of knowledge/memory of a timelord and so that is why her body eventually gives out. That is why, the Doctor has to lock her memories away.

Because theoretically, it is easier to make an immortal body mortal. Given that their body is meant to be extremely resistant to factors that would usually decimate a mortal one, but the same cannot be said about the opposite as we are far more delicate.

Tentoo though, he's chillin. 

Not only because his body is able to effectively restore itself with that leftover energy and the human boost, but also because his entire body is made to handle both timelord and human aspects. He will not suffer the same fate as Donna because he is born as both. 

They're in perfect harmony within his body, unlike Donna whose human aspect was being taken over by the superior time lord genes.

This is why they are fundamentally the same person: Ten and Tentoo.

Because not only do they come from the same body, but the same regenerative energy as well. This is also why they share the same memories. The regeneration energy appeared after he was shot by the dalek ray, and so, that moment was effectively the point by which their shared consciousness stopped. No longer existing in a sole body, but two.

It is because of this same shared energy that the appearance of neither changes: because it was utilized to heal both vessels and abort the regenerative process.

(Also it technically did take up a regeneration canonically hence why I called it a sort of botched regeneration. Which would make sense, given the amount of energy that was used to carry out the healing of two bodies.)

In summary, everything that makes the Doctor, the Doctor, is still in both bodies.

They're not twins, they're the same man through and through. Down to the manner in which they're born, with both effectively existing out of their love for Rose and humanity.

In the same way that the doctor claims that Tentoo was born out of hatred and war, it is his love and wishes to appease her that spawned his existence. So really the differences between the two are almost non-existent if not for one crucial detail: unlike the time lord, Tentoo is not bound by the obligation to serve the universe.

This is where things get fascinating.

Now that there are two bodies, they essentially function as parallel versions of the same man. 

They are different, not because they're not both the Doctor, but because their circumstances allow them to make different choices. From there on out, both will inevitably grow to be different people. As Tentoo essentially embodies the most authentic representation of a human Doctor, having had the option to abandon his responsibility as the guardian of the universe, he provides us with an insight into what the Doctor would be like at his most honest.

That is why Tentoo acts on impulse and commits genocide. Not because Ten wouldn't have done the same given the chance to give into the temptation, but because the fact that he is not fully time lord affords him the privilege to do whatever the hell he wants. He is not bound to the obligation to put the wellbeing of the universe above his own personal interest, so he erredicates them as a means of protecting the people he loves. Choosing to prioritize the people he cares for even if it comes at the expense of the dalek race

He is, effectively, free.

This is why him choosing to spend his life with Rose is such a major decision. Why when prompted by Donna, he chooses to confess his love for Rose in her ear. Despite having the freedom to choose anything, what he desires most is her. 

This revelation solidifies that this Doctor also has deep love for her, and it also implies that this is likely what the Doctor would have chosen as well, had he been given the option to leave his responsibilities behind.

Through Tentoo, we get insight into who the Doctor would be if not for his duty. A person who has the means to express themselves without any apprehension of potentially outliving their loved ones. In simpler terms, someone who can evolve and grow without the burden of guilt for being the only survivor of their kind constantly plaguing their mind. At present, this version of himself will never be alone again and can fully immerse himself in a dimension of existence that was previously only possible through John Smith.

This is why the Doctor seemingly resents him because he wishes he had the freedom to choose this life. 

It’s due to this that the notion of them being romantic rivals is also ludicrous because they are the same man. 

Had it been under different circumstances, the one who would have confessed his feelings and given Rose the chance to choose would have been the timelord. But because he is not afforded the liberty to not consider his alien nature and by extension his obligations, he cannot bring himself to initiate it. 

This is why Rose choosing to kiss Tentoo in front of the time lord doctor is crucial because it is her way of expressing that the love she extends to Tentoo is also his. That she understands that they're the same man but that ultimately, she understands that his duty is what needs to be prioritized. It is a goodbye, but also an act of gratitude for baring the extent of his feelings to her through Tentoo.

Their happy ending is not coming at the cost of Ten’s, no, rather it is what ensures that he will have one at all.

But consider this, does this not raise some major questions about who the meta crisis doctor can become?

Think about it.

Since he is no longer bound to the role of the universe's protector, there is no longer a necessity for him to act in accordance with his previous principles or obligations to do what is right.

Although Ten usually aimed to make selfless choices, he must now prioritize his own life. The stakes have shifted, and he can no longer place others' needs above his own, especially since his newfound life with his loved ones can be taken away at any moment.

As a human, he would come to understand that he cannot simply leave behind the problems he creates for others to handle. He must face the consequences of his actions and learn to maintain good relationships with those around him. With staying in one place, he bears the responsibility of building trust with others and can no longer solely rely on his reputation to get by.

Remember, he is effectively starting from scratch in Pete’s universe. He has no background on their history nor the tools he wielded when they first landed there. While waiting for the tardis to grow, he would have to effectively assume a human life until it reaches maturity.

With that in mind, he also no longer has any semblance of power over anyone. He is practically on the same level of awareness as anyone else albeit with more wisdom. Meaning he cannot hold what he knows about the future over others, and will have to adjust on collaborating with others to get things done even if it comes at the expense of his own ego lmao.

Most importantly, he can no longer stew in that self-hatred he is so privy to, and with time he will have to relearn what it means to forgive not only others but himself. To put aside that hatred and embrace the time he has with the woman he loves, even if it means confronting parts of himself he is not fond of. This will involve intimately acquainting himself with the perspective of humans to a degree that was impossible before. 

Such as in the way we humans seemingly uphold survival above all else.

Or how our morality can be very fluid in certain situations, as we are not afforded the guarantee of another life.

He will have to learn to cope with the helplessness all mortals feel when confronted by death and that in turn, could either harden him further or make him more aware of his own faults as an outsider. To understand where he went wrong in assuming that his human companions would sacrifice their perspective as a means of adapting his own.

That isn't to say that it is all bad though.

Just different.

Because this change in circumstance can either prove to be very detrimental to Ten or beneficial, and it all depends on how he manages to cope with it.

It makes him unpredictable, in a way that Ten was never afforded the privilege to be.

This could potentially demonstrate how a harmonious balance between Ten's human and Time Lord aspects would manifest in reality. To see what it would actually mean to have a time lord assume a life as a mortal. Reason being, that up until then, he only really saw humanity from a distance. This experience can aid him in developing a deeper understanding of humanity and its shortcomings as well as those of his own people.

Admittedly, John Smith served as a reference point for us. However, that modified version of the Doctor was oblivious to the gravity of his own existence. He possessed his own unique identity, with his Time Lord essence locked away. This highlights why adopting a purely human existence would never be suitable for him, as it would entail relinquishing his Time Lord perspective.

The sorrow of Ten's story lies in the fact that he could never truly embody both aspects of himself simultaneously. He was always bound by his alien nature and unable to fully embrace his human longings. This is why his story appears to have two different outcomes - with his human persona living a joyous existence, while his Time Lord form regenerates in isolation.

In his final moments, he chooses to reject this fate and resist the need for balance, instead becoming increasingly desperate to avoid regeneration. Consequently, he succumbs to the same power-hungry inclinations as his predecessors, as he tries to exert control over his fate without addressing the underlying problem.

“Well exactly look at you! Not remotely important! But me? I can do so much more! So much more! but this is what I get. My reward, well it’s not fair!....I’ve lived too long”

He could have done so much more, done so much differently if only he would have not put himself in a box. He did what was right, what was proper, yet the sacrifices done at his expense led to the same outcome.

The issue lies in his unwillingness to make compromises and achieve a state of equilibrium between his two perspectives. Instead of seeking balance, he retreats to his alien and disconnected nature, which creates a barrier between him and those around him. His decision to not confront his fate as a solitary wanderer earlier, prevented him from expressing gratitude to those who loved him when they needed it most. His need for distance denied them the chance to truly comprehend his appreciation.

He is solitary because he never allowed himself to consider an alternative, and this realization dawns on him too late. Now that everyone has departed to follow their own paths, he finds himself back where he began. 

His failure to take personal risks and develop attachments has fulfilled the very curse he sought to break.

Ultimately, what frightened him the most was not the idea of losing the people he grew to love, but the prospect of being alone while they continued to live on without him.

“Yeah what about you? Who have you got now?”

“No one, i’m traveling alone. I thought it was better alone..but I did some things that went wrong. I need..”

The central message of the RTD era is that happiness often comes at a cost and not every enjoyable experience will lead to a happy ending. However, the theme is not that an unhappy ending diminishes the value or significance of the moment, but quite the opposite - that the joy and meaning of the experience make it worth the cost, regardless of the outcome.

The RTD era's narrative encourages embracing the uncertainty of life and finding joy in the present moment, even if the outcome is uncertain or potentially disappointing. These moments can help alleviate the pain of difficult times, inspire risk-taking, and lead to unexpected achievements, ultimately leading to a more fulfilling life rather than a long one.

Create a life that is customized to your individuality and maturity gained through experiences, rather than one that fixates on regret and what-ifs.

The Doctor finds it difficult to fully embrace the present moment due to the constant reminder that everything is fleeting and temporary, causing him to always be looking towards the future.

Tentoo, on the other hand, is anchored in the present because his perspective will evolve through his exposure to humanity. He will learn to fully embrace the joy and sorrow of living life to the fullest, cherishing every moment, even the mundane ones. He knows that life is temporary and that every day is a precious gift, which is why he will live each moment to its fullest. Despite the inevitable challenges that will come his way, he will remain optimistic, confident that his joy will only grow as he continues to live.

His ability to balance both his human and Time Lord nature allows him to fully embrace all aspects of his life, without giving preference to one over the other. Which in turn, further establishes his unique identity and reinforces the qualities that made him a beloved incarnation of the Doctor.

Tentoo is able to love without hesitation, expressing his affection to those he cares for and acknowledging the importance of emotions that were once discouraged amongst his own kind.

In other words, be Tentoo.

(not the mass murder part though lol)

Be the version of yourself that doesn't hold back and don't commit the same mistakes that the Doctor did out of fear.

So yall be more kind to my boy!

[thotsforvillainrights]

Can you do S/o gets jealous of another girl flirting with muscular?

(Muscular's S/O is catching hell tonight lol)

~A little bit Jealous for Once~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up|drabble

"It's called a root beer float! It's pretty much a good drink during the summer where I'm from." You slide the drink across the table ever so slightly, being extra careful due to the condensation making the the metal top slippery. He stares at it for a minute and then looks back up at you flatly. "It's soda and ice cream..." You roll your eyes and sigh at him. "No, it's a root beer float. Try it and stop being so scared." You smirk at him, knowing that challenging him is usually the best way to get him to do what you wanted. "I aint a pussy if that's what you're getting at." He grumbles before taking the extra long purple straw and sipping it.

"This shit is disgusting." He looks back at you and frowns before pushing the drink back over to you. Of course you're laughing at him and he smiles a small bit, the sound of your laugh making his big heart flutter. Your laugher and date is cut short when a random person comes to the table and starts cutting into the conversation. "Root beer isn't the most delectable huh?" They chuckle and he nods. "Agreed, this shit is nasty." This random person starts to cut in more and more, eventually having a full fledged conversation with him that goes from food, to music, to gym stuff while you're being ignored. Finally you run out of kindness and patience before clearing your throat loudly and glaring at the person (who seems unbothered by you). "Goto, my head hurts. Let's go home..." You say darkly and he tilts his head a bit. This isn't like you...

Well scratch that. This is like you but mostly like you when he's pushed all your buttons. As far as he knows, he hasn't pushed anything yet.

Ultimately he decided to not try his luck and to just obey your wishes. You pull him quickly out of the diner doorway and down the sidewalk, grumbling to yourself while hold his arm. Reality clicks and he finds himself chuckling before full on laughing. You pause and take a seat on a nearby bench while he stands still next to you. "Jealous eh?" You find yourself stumbling over your words at what he said. "N-no! I'm not...Not even the slightest-" He cuts you off with more loud laughter. "St-stop!"

Finally you managed to survive the onslaught of teasing. You keep your skin thick for times like these with him anyway. It was just last week that he watched you fall on the curb and spent 30 minutes laughing at you for it. However, there was one thing he did as well...he patched you up afterward. And so now, you shouldn't be surprised he's leaning down and planting a rare soft kiss on your head. "Calm the fuck down would you? I wasn't interested in that random person in there just in case you were worried. If I were, then I definitely wouldn't be with you. Lucky for you I don't like folks that look like they've snuck onto this planet and shit. besides, if I ever decided to up and leave then there's no way in hell I'd get away with it. I love you too much to even stay gone less alone think about leaving in the first place. Calm your ass down." He reassured you in his own special way.

Maybe not the most romantic but you get the point nonetheless.

[silviaeaber]

Just finished writing this, didn’t edit it. I suck at descriptions and it’s probably OOC. Also it’s a shameless self-insert. Fuck it we ball fuck it we ball fuck it we ball

A crowbar slunged over his shoulder, the Devil’s Butcher stalks towards his prey.

He’s done with work for the day, his mechanic uniform stained with oil. One murder a day keeps the doctor away, is what he said many months ago, on new year’s eve, to his fellow serials in the server - a resolution, a wish. He ended up failing, having to miss a few days for various reasons, but he still does it most days. Today was supposed to be a skip, but he found a prime target. And he’s aching to do it. Fuck, the kills aren’t as satisfying as they could be if his darling was his pretty little victim, but she’s more entertaining alive anyway. Cute, too. And it’s not like he’s gonna kill her out of nowhere, anyway… not after everything. He does think about what her heart would look like held in his fingers, though. Squeezed and bled. The ultimate act of love - though his darling disagrees, loves to pout about it and call it ‘the equivalent of a one-night-stand’. Eh, guess they just love differently, she and him. Relationships are all about accepting the other’s differences, yadda yadda. He doesn’t mind, he loves her, and she’s corrupted enough anyway - all nice and obsessed with him.

Point is, today at work, Ronin had a very interesting client. Guy in his 30s, with his younger girlfriend. The guy insisted they stayed and watched the repairs. Poor girl clearly wasn’t into cars, but she tried so hard to get into her bastard boyfriend’s interests. Bastard, yes, ‘cause the fucker kept making comments that were eyebrow raising to say the least. The usual, casual misogyny found in oh so many couples. The classics, a bit of shut up, some fondling when she was clearly uncomfortable, putting down her hobbies, the very fact that she was clearly much younger than him - barely 18, Ronin guessed.

That’s how he chose today’s victim. His preferred victims are assholes and abusers, especially if they’re Christians - which the guy is, judging from his cross necklace. Sure, those are more guidelines than rules, but Christ, is killing those type of fuckers satisfying.

And so, right now Ronin is following the bastard - now alone, his girlfriend having uncomfortably left at some point - towards, funnily enough, Purgatory. Didn’t even need to sneakily lead him there.

With his free hand, Ronin takes his phone and dials Silvia’s number. She picks up before the first ring is even over and Ronin has to keep himself from laughing out loud.

“Ronin,” she says, her tone pleasantly surprised. He just knows she’s anticipating hearing his voice. “What’s up? Are you still coming over?”

“‘Course I am, darlin’,” he answers, and he can practically see her smile. “Jus’ wanted to tell you I’ll be late. Met some fucker at work.”

“Ohh, okay.” Silvia pauses. “Well then, have a nice murder and, uh, come back soon? I miss you.”

“Miss you too, baby. See you soon.” Ronin chuckles when Silvia blows him a phone kiss, and then puts down the phone and focuses on his to-be victim again.

They’re alone now. ‘Poor’ bastard walked far enough that no one’s around, and they’re right in Purgatory. Ronin can’t help the grin slowly forming on his face. No matter how many times he does this, the thrill never fades.

“Y’know, cars and people have a few things in common,” he speaks, and the guy jolts and turns around. His annoyed gaze turns to alarm when he sees the crowbar. “For example, I know what the insides of both look like. Ain’t that a fun fact?”

“H-Hey, man, you’re the- I know you from today, yeah? The mechanic?” The guy tries to look tough, but the realization is already dawning in his eyes. He’s in Purgatory, being approached by someone with a crowbar. “I, listen man, I’m just passin’ by, my home is that way, don’t want to cause trouble—”

Ronin laughs out loud. “Oh, there’s no trouble. Well, maybe one. My crowbar, see, it’s hungry. And so am I.”

The guy starts to run, but Ronin is faster and stronger. He slams the guy against the wall, and crack, something is broken and the bastard wails. Ronin cackles.

“Why why why me…” The man coughs and sputters as Ronin slams the crowbar against his knees, and he screams louder and slumps. “Please please please I’ll do anything, I’ll— I’ll help you find another victim, a better one!” he pleads.

Ronin is amused. “Yeah? Who’re you gonna find for me?”

“A… a girl! I’ll find you a girl. One of my girl’s friends?” suggests the guy, panting in pain. “It’s gotta be more satisfying killing a girl, y-yeah? You like them, right? I’ll find you one that’s nice and soft and— just let me live please and I’ll find you your most satisfying kill!”

Nice and soft. That description reminds him of Silvia and he chuckles. “Sorry to say, but it’s your unlucky day! There’s no one nicer and softer than my girl.” He kneels in front of the sobbing man, whose trembling hands are holding his broken kneecaps. “You know what I find really fuckin’ funny? I’m a damn serial killer - I am all that’s filthy and grotesque in this world - and yet, I still treat my girl better than you do yours. Christ, not that it takes much.”

“I-Is that what it’s about?!” wails the guy, tears streaming down his cheeks, “Are you- are you some kind of vigilante protecting women, or—“

“Vigilante?!” interrupts him Ronin, and he cackles. Loud, not holding back. “Jesus, no, I’m not V. Nah, don’t get me wrong.” Ronin stands back up, crowbar in hand. “Yeah, fuckers like you make my blood boil. But that’s not the only reason why I do it.” He readies the swing, ignoring the man going no no no no no no… “I just love hearin’ the crack of skulls.” Crack. “The squelch of blood and meat.” Squelch. “I like to swing this baby again and again and again and again…” And he does. Again and again and again and again. Ronin laughs madly, blood spraying on his face. “Because I’m fuckin’ depraved!” he tells the maimed corpse, “I’m the devil!”

And then he dips his crowbar in the man’s blood. And he draws on the walls and on the ground. Pentagrams, horned devilish figures. And he feels so fucking good and in control and he’s having so much fun. He adjusts then man’s necklace so that the cross is right where his forehead used to be.

And he cackles and takes pics and he takes out a small vial, he found it in Silvia’s home and she let him take it because she’s just that nice, and he fills it with that fucker’s sickly sweet, red liquid. Freedom in a bottle.

He’s about to send the pics in the server, his bloodied finger hovering over the send button, but he hesitates. Nah, he kinda wants Silvia to see them first. See what she thinks.

It doesn’t take long for him to take care of what he needs to not get found by the cops, and then he’s off to Silvia’s house. She’s home alone tonight, no one to bother them except the cat - but he’s not really a bother, Ronin likes that silly creature - and he knows she’s waiting in her room like he told her to.

It’s easy to climb the sides of the house to reach the balcony in front of Silvia’s room, it’s not that high. He can see her inside, on her computer, frantically typing something on what looks like a word document. Aw, that’s his writer darlin’. And then Ronin knocks, grinning. “Hey, darlin’.”

Silvia jolts. “Aaaaah oh my god, hey!” She laughs, embarrassed, as she goes to open the window to let him in. There’s that usual cute, shy smile on her face. That dreamy expression she makes every time she sees him.

“Scared you, darlin’?” Ronin wraps his arms around her and she hums happily, not even minding the blood still on him.

“Mmh, I was just absorbed in writing.” She gestures at the computer. “Still practicing my descriptions. It’s uh, not working. Always feels like I’m putting someone else’s words in my mouth.”

“Eh, ‘s fine, as long as you keep writing. Don’t stop. You have to do something with the inspiration I give you.” He pats her head, almost condescendingly, and she melts. He snorts. She’s funny.

After a moment, she says, “So, the guy.”

“The guy,” he repeats, grinning.

“The, you know, the victim. The ‘fucker’ you told me about. How did it… go?”

“Mmh, glad you asked, baby. Because I took some nice pics that are definitely worth a look.” He shows her the pics on his phone, and she looks at them with an unreadable expression on her face. “You’re the first one who gets to see them. Say thank you, Ronin.”

“Thank you, Ronin,” she chirps, cuddling up to him as her eyes scan the gory spectacle. “What did the guy to do deserve this?”

“Was horrible to his girl. She’s better off without him,” he says.

“Mmh, nice.” Silvia closes her eyes, the slightest satisfaction visible in her features. “I’m getting used to your pics. Don’t know what to think about it.”

“I know what to think about it,” he grins, “It’s really fuckin’ funny. Sweet girl, wouldn’t hurt a fly unless provoked, yet so eager to see gory pics of her boyfriend’s murder victims.”

She blushes, a shaky, awkward smile on her face. “Glad you find it entertaining, at least.”

“Yeah, baby. Really fucking satisfying to see hints of grotesqueness in you,” he drawls. “Grotesqueness I’ve corrupted out of you.”

She pouts. “You can’t just say that, it’s hot.”

He laughs. “You’re kinda easy, huh? Oh, by the way—” He takes out the blood vial and throws it at her, who barely catches it, clumsy girl she is. “That fucker’s blood. You’re welcome.”

“Ew, no.” She frowns and gives it back to him. “I don’t want an abuser’s blood, ew, gross.”

“So you like the pics but not the real thing? Tsk tsk, darlin’.”

She crosses her arms. “No, listen, it makes sense. Blood is super intimate and it’d just be weird to keep the blood of someone I hate.”

“Then kill me, baby,” he coos, “Kill me and take my blood, and more.”

“Well… no, that’s not okay either because…” She looks troubled. “Because then you’d be gone and I’d be sad!”

He chuckles. Yep, that’s a classic Silvia opinion. “Yeah, yeah. Such a bleedin’ heart you are, darlin’.” He cups her cheek with his hand. She feels soft. “Tell you what, we’ll get a couple more vials, one for me and one for you. Then we can cut each other juuust a little, just enough to fill ‘em. So we can both have each other’s blood and keep our lives. How’s that sound, darling?”

She blushes. She actually blushes. Yeah, despite her gentleness, she is a little bit of a freak sometimes. “Will you cut me gently?” she asks in a whisper.

He presses his lips at the top of her head. “I’ll cut you so gently and nicely that you’ll love the pain, baby, I promise.”

He feels some kind of warmth when she squeals and clings to him, embarrassed. Yeah, it’d be lovely too see her chest cut open. To hold and kiss her heart as she fades away.

…But this is nice, too. He might be the devil, but he doesn’t mind just spending a cozy night in with his darling.

[ankmankpank]

4*town stalker AU part 2: Aaron Z.

Tw: stalking, cussing

More to come with other members, Aaron T. already done!😘

-he’s there.

-everywhere.

-you were starting to go crazy(crazy? I was crazy once)

-and didn’t like it

-the thing is, you saw someone on the street one day

-he looked sad

-but he was too pretty to be sad

-so you like, gave him a smile

-to spread your kindness

-he didn’t smile back

-rude

-but he didn’t leave you alone neither.

-since that, you saw him everyday

-when you weren’t walking on your usual path where you saw him first, he’d show up somewhere else

-first it was another street

-then you saw him from a bakery’s window

-then in the plaza where you went with your friends

-while you worked

-went home with your car

-then he started showing up outside your window

-you lived away from the city, in the woods

-so it made him easy to be unnoticeable for others

-and watch you from the trees

-but making sure that you always see him

-scary

-and he didn’t even hide his face

-as if he saw no point in doing so

-and if he wasn’t pretty, you’ve told the police by now

-yes yes, don’t judge by looks

-but the way he looked at you

-wow

-you felt watched, but not in danger

-felt a weird sting in public, but always safe

-but so done with him by now

-so kitchen knife in hand

-your really fuzzy coat over your cute pjs

-bunny slippers

-and you are going to confront him now.

⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚

-you stormed out into the porch with the outfit and weapon mentioned in hand

-and luckily, your confidence didn’t fly out of you this time

-even when you knew he was watching

-somewhere, he was in the woods

-watching you right now

-…

-maybe you could’ve dressed better?

-anyways

-fuck him and this

-your ultimately cute pjs won’t stop you from anything!

-“Listen!”

-fuck you sounded dumb

-cringe cringe cringe go back into the house and drink some hot chocky girl!!

-well that would be even more cringe..

-you had to finish this

-“Uhh.. I know what you’re doing! And I do not fucking like it! If you like me that much.. uh. Don’t be a loser and come up to talk to me or something!”

-well you sounded like an even bigger loser now

-great job Y/N

-oh you wish your voice wouldn’t crack like that

-“Because you’re being a creep and it’s fucking embarrassing! Grow some balls or kill yourself or something but leave me the fuck alone if you don’t know how to talk to a girl!”

-deep breath

-yeah, you were done

-…

-was he still there or you were just shouting to the air?

-…

-you felt bad now.

-okay, what if he has a crossbow or something?

-and waited just for you to break to kill you??

-shit

-okay, time to go back to the house

-let’s turn around, head for the door and just-

-“You got me.”

-fuck his voice was hot

-and FUCK he is REALLY talking to you right now

-you stopped in place

-but didn’t dare to turn towards the woods again

-“Uh, don’t kill me?”

-…

-“Like, pretty please?”

-ow this was embarrassing

-…

-awkward

-“Wasn’t planning to.”

-FUCK YEAH

-oh only if you saw yourself right now

-but he did perfectly, and the way you boxed into the air in victory was absolutely adorable

-like can you take anything seriously for more than two minutes?

-you were seriously so cute

-okay.

-big breath

-turn around Y/N

-show dominance

-and hope that as you turned around, you’re not looking at a completely wrong place in the woods

-but you can’t fucking see him

-irritating

-"So, what's your deal? You're out here lurking like a shadow."

-…

-was he a robot?

-why did you have to wait seconds until he responded??

-..

-"Just enjoying the view."

-“The view of what? Me standing on my porch feeling like I'm being watched? Weirdo."

-…

-let’s hope you didn’t hurt his feelings

-Y/N.

-HAVE YOU LEARNED NOTHING.

-don’t care about his feelings

-ppffthh… no.

-"Seriously though, it's creeping me out. Are you planning something ugly?"

-sinister would be the best word but you would’ve felt embarrassed saying that

-“Not my style.”

-said much, thanks

-you looked at the thick railings of the porch

-big breath

-one leg after another

-and you sat on the railings, looking into the dark in front of you.

-"Then what is your style? Besides being mysterious and lurking in the shadows. Boo, I’m dark and mysterious!"

-mocking him felt good

-and he found you doing it cute too

-but you didn’t have to know that

-for now

-"Guess you'll have to stick around to find out."

-“HA. Why would I do that?"

-"Because you're intrigued. Admit it, I've got you curious."

-well, his voice for sure..

-and his face…

-how tall he was…..

-Y. N.

-"Or maybe I just want to make sure you're not being sketchy.”

-…

-fuck him and his silence!

-“Never.”

-"Well, you're definitely not winning any awards for transparency."

-he chuckled

-you liked his voice!

-okay, you liked everything on this earth that existed and wasn’t bad

-he was..

-but..

-never mind.

-"Who needs transparency when you have “mystery”?"

-oh you mocked him for being mysterious and he mocks you for mocking him?

-that’s what’s happening?

-bitch.

-"Mystery is overrated. I prefer honesty."

-that sounded cringe Y/N, throw yourself off the railings!

-“Rare commodity these days."

-"So is common sense, apparently."

-"Touché."

-…

-well this was awkward

-for you, at least.

-he liked this.

-“Uh, no offense dude.. Correction, all offense. How long are you planning on staying?”

-…

-was his brain this slow?

-“Like, tonight. Here. I have to sleep.”

-…

-you were really close to just leaving him here

-wait, why wouldn’t you?

-you had all the rights to

-he was the creep

-and the one you needed, but you didn’t know that yet

-“I don’t know. You’re fun.”

-bitch

-"I'm just entertainment to you, no? Chaarming."

-you hoped he’d see your eye roll

-he didn’t, the house’s lights were coming from behind your back

-but he could sense it.

-"Pretty much.”

-took a while, fuck.

-“You’re impossible!”

-“Yet you’re talking to me.”

-“Bye then!”

-with that, you turned and jumped off the thick wood railings

-and walked into the house

-you really wanted to run and felt his eyes on you, but you didn’t wanna seem like a pussy

-good that you always lock the door

-so it wouldn’t seem like you’re about to shit your pants from fear

-but you are.

⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚

-a week passed since your first real talk with him

-you didn’t give him the satisfaction to talk to you again though

-until now..

-middle of the night

-you were trying to sleep

-but obviously couldn’t

-since your bedroom was on the top floor, balcony it is

-you didn’t turn your lights on, just walked out to your beloved balcony connected to your room

-and bent over the stone railings to look down into the woods.

-…

-you needed to work courage up to this

-“Hi!”

-…

-…

-only the sound of the trees

-well, at least he’s not on your dick now!

-good.

-“You know, shouting into the void looks really dumb from here.”

-fuck.

-“And ‘you know’, if you're going to stand there staring, you could at least say hello."

-"Hello seems a bit too conventional for me."

-did he learn to respond in time?

-amazing

-no it’s not shut up

-"I should have known you're not the conventional type."

-"Conventions are for the unimaginative."

-as if you’ve heard him move

-like kick a rock or something

-but who knows

-could be the animals being just as scared as you are

-but wait..

-you’re not scared?

-"And what brings the imaginative you to my humble abode today?"

-it’s tearing his heart up

-that he can’t go over and pick you up

-and spin you around

-because you could have the knife with you now too..

-though he could just twist it out of your hand

-he didn’t really want to touch you like that

-to cause you harm

-…

-"Just enjoying the view. You have quite the picturesque porch."

-and he almost made you believe he’s complimenting you

-which he did once already

-hihihi

-STOP GIGGLING INSIDE YOUR HEAD

-so you rolled your eyes

-to keep it up

-I mean, the poker face

-"Flattery will get you nowhere, you know."

-"Nowhere's not such a bad place to be when you have good company."

-you could hear his fucking smirk

-bitch

-"Smooth. But I've got to warn you, I have a strict 'no lurking' policy. Mhm.”

-why were you saying such dumb things?

-because

-uhh

-you needed to drag the time

-to get more out of him

-yes!

-absolutely not because you actually wanted to talk to him..

-"Wouldn't dream of it. Just passing by, admiring."

-he was.. funny at some point

-you tilted your head

-"Admiring or analyzing?"

-…

-oh you thought you were making progress!

-talk, mystery man, talk!

-…

-"A little bit of both, perhaps."

-you giggled at this

-shit.

-you shouldn’t have

-"Well, as long as you're not planning to steal my garden gnomes or something."

-"Not today, at least."

-heh

-you.. liked his company

-fuck.

-…

-“Not like I care, but.. do you have a name?”

-“Only for friends.”

-bitch.

-did he even have friends?

-"Hmm, fair point. But I like to know who I'm talking to. Call it a quirk."

-oh he wanted to scream from how cute your giggle was just right now

-…

-Well, perhaps he could tell you..

-“Z.”

-…

-“Like the letter Z?”

-silence.

-so, yes. The letter Z.

-“Rapper ass name. Real?”

-…

-..

-.

-“Aaron.”

-“Thanks!”

-you liked that name!

-but Z. fit him too.

-…

-you got what you wanted, no?

-why did you want to keep talking to him then?

-but you shouldn’t

-“Well, I guess I’ll let you get back to.. whatever it is you do out here.”

-watch you, that’s what Z. does.

-…

-“Same. Don’t want to keep you from doing your thrilling balcony activities.”

-you cracked a smile at that

-pfft

-he was.. good company at least

-“Right. Bye.”

-you almost said good night

-you say it to everyone

-but not to him

-Z. doesn’t deserve it

-Aaron

-or whatever his name is

-creep

-so, back to your room it is

-“Good night, Y/N.”

⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚

You started staying up more and more late

Just to talk to him

If the past you when he started the stalking would talk with the present you, it would freak out and probably stab you first with the kitchen knife

But he is a sweet guy when you get to know him

And you learnt a lot of things about him

Which meant he wanted to share!

He had trust in you

Things like, his friend is also an Aaron, that’s why he’s Z.

He likes sports

Correction, loves

And sadly, he’s very lovable

And all these porch and balcony talks turned into you inviting him inside when it was raining once

And he was beautiful

Inside and out

You just needed time to realize that

“And that’s how I met your father...”

[thedreadvampy]

absolutely sucks shit when people are like HOW DARE YOU SUGGEST PUTTING ANY CONDITIONS ON YOUR VOTE as if. the constant shift right doesn't have to do with the belief in major parties that they're owed votes by default on account of not being the other guy.

like they're going to ignore the public's wishes either way but fuck, you don't have to make it that easy for them. literally the second they get in. oh pwetty pwease Mr Biden can you wespect basic human wights? don't worry sir you'll still get my vote if not but I thought I'd ask nicely!!!!

hold their fucking feet to the fire dude. make it clear that your vote is conditional on them listening to the public on the clear and vital points.

(btw 'refusing to vote for Clinton is how Trump got in' no it literally is not. please remember that Trump lost the popular vote anyway and only got in because your country has a weird fucked up system where states are allowed to ignore how their constituents vote.)

(Refusing to vote New Labour after the Iraq War is how the Tories got in over here. Kinda. because what actually happened was we had the first hung parliament since 1979, and then the Lib Dems sold the country up the river for some minor concessions. and then Labour spent the next 10 years actively kneecapping itself by painting its own leadership as a bigger threat than the Tories, and when they had a leftist leading them they still brought the Tories to a hung parliament again in 2017.)

(anyway the point is you all seem to have a majorly inflated sense of how much democracy is involved in elections. Ultimately in cases where the race is close-run it is not the electorate that decide, it's like 100 people in positions of high power, be it the electoral college, the party leadership, or otherwise.)

(none of which is to say your vote is useless. your vote is valuable to politicians. there's a limit to how much they can get away with ignoring the public. but. because your vote is valuable, it's only useful as leverage if there's a possibility you might not give them it. and let's be clear, people WILL change direction if they're worried about losing votes. but unless you're offering them massive funding, then the only reason your opinion would carry any weight is if there's a possibility of your vote being withheld. if you stand up and say VOTE BLUE NO MATTER WHO YOU'VE GOT MY VOTE WHATEVER HAPPENS then like. You might as well just say 'ignore me, pay attention to those guys who might not vote for you'.)

if the centre and the left's votes are vocally assured regardless of the party's policy or stance, then the party will move right. bc they've already got you, so it's time to court the undecideds. YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT NECESSARY TO A POLITICIAN'S SUCCESS TO LISTEN TO WHAT YOU WANT. they don't care. you have to use what little leverage you have, your vote, to make them care. it's the only form of accountability we can bring about that doesn't involve, like, storming the winter palace 🤷‍♀️