#anyways yay for this book getting picked for book club!!!

[lilyoffandoms]

Flynn O’Malley for @choicesbookclub

[Grant] [Naomi] [Kate]

I played along, but I truly wish I could have interacted more with this book club because this is one of my top ten favorite choices stories. Anyway, have a Flynn from Cian’s pov on their houseboat.

[no background & morning fog background under cut]

VoS Drabble - Flynn x Cian

A/N & Warnings: I just always imagined Flynn was never a morning person but Cian, being a rise before the sun kinda guy, gets him to get out of bed (sometimes) and join him on the deck to watch the sun paint the sky. Flynn complains (good-naturedly), slips on last night’s shirt - or even better, Cian’s shirt - and joins him on deck with coffee (lots of it. I just need this for them okay?!

The sky is dark shades of purple, red, and orange as the first rays of light make their way over the horizon. It was these colors that make clear what Homer meant when referencing the wine dark sea.

He can hear Flynn moving around below and he laughs to himself when he hears Flynn trip in the dark room with a curse.

He’s told him countless times, he doesn’t have to join him this early but Flynn always does if he wasn’t called out by the station. Not that Cian is complaining. It’s one of his favorite times of the day together.

The telltale clink of coffee cups announces Flynn’s arrival up the stairs. His grunt of good morning announces his arrival on the top deck.

Cian turns and smiles at him. “Did you bring enough coffee?” he teases as Flynn hands him a cup and pours his own from the thermos.

“Not nearly enough for this ungodly hour,” Flynn shoots back with a quirk of his lips.

——————————

My Art Ish Thing Tag (Choices Edition): @storyofmychoices @aallotarenunelma @twinkleallnight @thosehallowedhalls @dutifullynuttywitch

[thessalian]

Astrid vs a Return to Fort Gobbo

Back at the goblin camp, where everyone now hates them

Astarion: And how are we getting through this, if I may ask?

Astrid: I have a few contingencies. Gale?

Gale: This is where we pay attention to what you're handing me, right. Um ... Hold Person, Speak With Dead-- Have we ever used those?

Astrid: I have a necklace that lets me do so and I ... kind of haven't. Anyway, keep going.

Gale: Oh. ...Oh! Well, this will be useful!

Astrid: You're getting my drift now, yay! Now, everybody get ready for ranged.

Gale: *reads from scroll*

Sleet Storm: *covers the entire area of the gate in ice*

Astrid: *pulls out lute; singing* "So we're not / Made mind flayers / We'll become / Goblin slayers / You'll slip and you'll slide / And soon you'll have died / Walking in a winter wonderland..."

Stabnation: *ensues, mostly at range*

While exploring a bit more

Astrid: How did these guys sleep through the noise we made down there?

Gale: From the smell of them, they drank the best part of a distillery.

Astrid: ...I feel better about that, actually. At least they're anaesthetised. *stealths and starts one-shotting the sleeping bugbears and goblins with arrows, one by one*

Astarion: Aww ... look at our little assassin. I think I'm actually proud. *grins at Shadowheart* And you could see it as her giving your Lady Shar Her due...

Shadowheart: Shut. Up.

And somewhere between goblin massacres

Shadowheart: Um. Look, you were talking about friendship and trust and everything, and ... I don't remember much, but I do remember that Shar devotees saved my life when I was young and I kind of owe them forthat.

Astrid: ... *all the hugs*

Shadowheart: I am covered in bugbear.

Astrid: That's okay; we're all covered in bugbear. Astarion got overenthusiastic.

Astarion: Sometimes you hit the carotid artery as collateral damage, alright? You compromise that one, and it's quite the gusher. Call it an occupational hazard and move on, already.

Now inside the Shattered Sanctum

Astrid: Hmm. The Underdark would be down, so maybe those pits are a good place to start?

Astarion: Oh, very well. *picks lock on cage door*

Giant Spiders: Oooh, DoorDash!

Astrid: ...Yes, and we brought you nicely compliant meals of fresh-killed goblin, with a side of bugbear.

Giant Spiders: Hrm. Fair. Best tip we can give you is letting you loot the place.

Astrid: Much obliged! Oh, you haven't seen a gateway to the Underdark down there, have you?

Giant Spiders: Not so much, no.

Astrid: Okay; thanks anyway. Have a nice day!

Giant Spiders: *go to feast*

Gale; Astarion; Shadowheart: *staaaaare at Astrid*

Astrid: ...What? The goblins are already dead. What will the giant spiders do; make them deader?

Gale: I'm honestly just astounded that you can manage to talk your way out of everything.

Astrid: Ah, if only I were a tiefling, and could call myself a silver-tongued devil and still be at least half literal about it. Anyway, I guess we keep looking.

In High Priestess Gut's quarters

Ogre: You don't belong in here!

Astrid: ...High Priestess Gut has a handmaiden? Well, I guess that explains the hair--

Ogre: Wut.

Astrid: You don't expect goblins with coiffures, okay? You did a wonderful job given the size disparities! Anyway, we just want to have a quick look around; you won't even know we're--

Ogre: HEY. YOU. YOU STEAING. YOU STOP THAT NOW!

Gale: *book in hands* ...sorry. Reflex. Just can I finish this chapter--?

Ogre: *raises club* YOU GO SPLAT.

Astrid: *Vicious Mockery resonance* I LIED; HIGH PRIESTESS GUT LOOKED LIKE SHE GOT HER HAIR DONE BY A HURRICANE WITH TREACLE ON ITS FINGERS AND HER JEWELLERY CLASHED WITH HER OUTFIT! IT TAKES A SPECIAL KIND OF FUCK-UP TO CLASH BONES WITH LEATHER, BY THE WAY!

Ogre: *growls in pain and anger; turns on Astrid*

Astrid: *uses Flourish; actually knocks the ogre down*

Shadowheart: *uses Bramble Shield to Entangle ogre prone on floor*

Astrid: Okay ... that should hold her until we find what we're looking for and--

Astarion: *FEEDS*

Astrid: ...What is it with you and helpless women?!?

Astarion: You were in no way 'helpless', and anyway, I don't know what's to hunt in the Underdark so I'm getting a feed in now.

Ogre: *breaks free from Entangle through sheer aggravation*

Astrid: Ooooooor we kill the now very angry ogre so we don't have to worry about her, and then we have a long talk about you all stepping on my cue lines.

Gale: Sorry...

Astarion: Oh, fine.

Astrid: Oh, not you, Shadowheart; you did great.

Shadowheart: *littlesmile*

Astarion: You really had better get a move on before you lose the cinnamon roll, you know.

Gale: Shut. UP.

Astarion: Or were you only cosying up to our bard to make your ex jealous?

Gale: ...............IGNIS!

Astarion: *reflexively ducks*

Fire Bolt: *was thankfully aimed at the ogre, who is now very, very dead*

Astarion: ...I suppose thanks are in order for you not aiming that at me.

Gale: I would never. Not when you're standing that close to a bookshelf, anyway.

Astarion:*eyeroll* Thanks.

And, after a lot of looting

Shadowheart: Looks like we have to move these panels on the floor into the right positions. Didn't that note we saw on the ritual table outside say something about--?

Astrid: Or we could pull that lever, at least after we do something about it being locked in place.

Astarion: *produces lockpicking tools* Anything to avoid running around the floor like idiots for the next half-hour.

Door: *opens onto some glowy fungi and a very long ladder*

Astrid: Okay ... one for you and one for you and one for you and one for me.

Gale: What are-- Wait, you made Potions of Feather Fall?

Astrid: I still don't have the spell, and given how long this ladder is, we'll have plenty of time to chug those during any fall that would kill us. And if we don't need them, well, maybe they'll come in handy later. Come on! Let's see what wonders the Underdark has for us!

Astarion: She is unbearably cheerful.

Astrid: If it'll appeal to you at all, did you ever wonder what drow blood tastes like?

Astarion: If it's anything like their worship, I assume deep dark shadows and other people's pain, with a touch of venom for kick. ...That sounds remarkably appealing and your powers of persuasion are frustratingly good. All right, let's go.

[yourlocalmikankinnie]

Ddlc and Danganronpa Characters with a Tall S/O.

As someone who's 5'11 or so, I'm tall. And us tall people don't get as much recognition. So here y'all go!

Characters: MC, Sayori, Kokichi, Akane, Mikan, and Nagito

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

MC:

He's kinda used to tall people as he's in a club with Yuri and I'm sure some of his classmates are in fact taller than him. Does this make him embarrassed? Yes it does. But it's not in a ashamed way. He's just embarrassed since you being taller then him gives you the choice to mess with him. But sometimes he asks if you can grab something for him if he's unable to.

"hey,,,, can you help me get that? I can't reach..." "Couldn't hear you 🤭 speak up please" "I asked if you could help me 😭 I can't reach!" "Of course! 🥰"

Sayori:

She jumps on your back,demands that you carry her to school and back. She says she'll walk but she never does 💀 some days you don't mind because she has P.E but it hurts your back 💀

"Sayori. Your gonna break my back." "No I'm not! 😂" "Yes you will. I'll have the body of an old person before I'm even in my 30's 😶" "BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH *donkey wheeze*"

Kokichi:

This mf calls you a giraffe. He has no shame doing it either. One bitch slap from you shuts him about the giraffe comments for a while. He demands you carry him everywhere. He will cry and have a fit if you say no. Im talking crocodile tears,fake sobbing, having tantrums ect. You have to pick him up before people start looking at you like your his parent and call child services or something-

"S/O~ will you carry me? Neheheh!" "no <3." "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH YOUR SO MEANNNN *ugly fake sob* WAAAAHHHHHH" "OKAY FINE!- SHUT UP!!!!!" "Yay! Thanks Giraffe! NEHEHEHEH!" "I'll drop your ass in a river if you keep testing me today."

Akane:

She takes your height as a fucking challenge 😭. She will challenge you to a fight and beat your ass 💀. Then y'all go for food.acting like nothing happened even though everyone can clearly see you limping a bit from her beating you up 🙂 your scared of Nekomaru because he'll beat your ass way worse than Akane 😭.

"Your fine! Just walk it off." "That's easy for you to say. You didn't even get a scratch." "That's because you didn't fight back" "that's because I was taught not to hit a girl and your were beating my ass so I couldn't 😶" "well anyways, eat your food before I steal it 😊" "already ahead of you." "Also, Coach Nekomaru wanted to train with you- hey where ya going!?-" "Love you but Nekomaru will kill me!😭😭"

Mikan:

I headcanon her to be kinda tall too. Not as tall as you though. So she still would need a stool to get stuff. But because that's dangerous for her you offer to get it. She cries and thanks you so much you can't even tell what she's saying.

You sometimes put small stuff out of her reach so she'll have the courage to call you to help. But it's just stuff that she doesn't find super important. You wouldn't hid her medical stuff because why the fuck would you need to.

"ThankyouThankyouThankyouThank-" "it's okay, you don't need to thank me. I'll grab you stuff anytime!" "*Ugly sobs*" "*pat pat*"

Nagito:

He's already a simp for you. But he find your tall legs beautiful 💀 he says some poetic stuff he found in a book and then y'all eat bagels together. He always cries when you tell him he can lay in your lap. He's mentally and physically not well nor okay so you really don't mind.

"really?,, You wanna let me lay in your beautiful long legged lap? 🥺" "Yeah sure ¯\_(ツ)_/¯" "but I'm such a loser,,, you deserve a better person😭" "get over here hope weirdo 🥺🥰" "coming! 🐶"

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Hope y'all liked these 👩‍🎤

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Sweet Pea//the other one (part 2)

hey! no prompts tonight because i have been super busy today and just haven’t had the time to write them, however i will be working on them again from tomorrow so yay! anyway, to say sorry, here’s the second part of ‘the other one’. this is the first part! i know it ended on a bit of a cliffhanger so hopefully this makes up for it! enjoy! 

“Sweet Pea!” You squeal when you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist. Your feet kick against the dusty ground as he lifts you up, but when he chuckles in your ear and his hot breath fans over your cheeks, you soon still in his arms, now trying to focus on settling your heartbeat. 

He smells like sunscreen and vanilla ice cream and you feel yourself become dizzy, now suddenly extremely thankful that he’s still holding you. You look around at the rest of your friends, none of them paying attention to the two of you, they’re all two busy either sun bathing or jumping into the water that fills the quarry. 

Despite the warnings from your mom about swimming in the water, you have already been in. The rest of her warnings have proven useless, ‘don’t hang out with serpents’ and ‘be nice to your sister’ are the two main ones she’s told you for as long as you can remember, and they’re both stupid. 

Sweet Pea spins you around and the two of you laugh loudly, causing a few of the serpents to look in your direction. You end up making eye contact with Toni when he eventually stops and she sends you a knowing look that makes you quickly drop her gaze. 

“Put me down!” You giggle once you’ve recovered and he reluctantly lets go. You turn around to face him a bright smile on your face that fades when you look at him. Your jaw drops at the sight of his bare chest, Toni and Fangs cough behind you and you quickly close your mouth and look at his face instead. 

“Like what you see?” He asks and wiggles his eyebrows. You roll your eyes and shove him slightly, deciding that maybe it’s best not to face him right now. So instead you turn around and look for Sadie who’s been put in charge of the drinks. 

“No, I’m just surprised to see you without your serpent jacket, I thought it was attached.” You tease and he huffs.  

“So, where did the Mayor of Riverdale think her doting daughter is today?” 

“Shopping with Betty and Veronica.” You smile and take a sip of your drink.

“Damn.” He sighs and you frown at him. 

“What?” You ask, your tone filled with worry and your eyes scan over him, trying to find out what’s wrong. 

“It’s just. I don’t know how you’re gonna explain this.” 

“Explain wha-” You furrow your eyebrows and watch as his frown turns into a smirk, but he cuts you off by picking you up and throwing you into the water. He runs and jumps in after you and you shove him when you both come up for air. 

“I hate you so fucking much.” You say, despite the large grin on your face. 

“No you don’t.” 

Your tears rolls down the glossy paper and onto your pyjama pants and you throw the photo to the floor. It’s no longer a happy memory, a candid moment between the two of you captured by Toni, it’s a reminder of what used to be.

It reminds you of something you thought was real, when in reality it’s never been. 

Lying back on your bed, you stare up at the ceiling and count the cracks. It’s the only thing you’ve done for the past two days. You manage to convince your mom that you’ve caught something so you don’t have to go to school and she won’t let anyone in. 

Josie has tried on multiple occasions to talk to you, but anytime she even tries to, you shut her down by staring at her until she leaves. Toni had tried to catch up with you when you found out, but you practically ran all the way home and she knew better than to try to follow. 

She knows you need time. 

You need to be alone to try and figure out where this leaves you. 

You’re not entirely sure you know who you are right now. You spent so long loving Sweet Pea and wishing for a future that could be. 

You searched for clues and hints in his texts, wondered what it meant when he hugged you for what felt like longer than normal, and tried to stop yourself from smiling when he bought you random gifts ‘just because’.  

Now though, now that you’ve taken off your rose tinted glasses and seen the world for the grey bleakness that it actually is, you realize that none of those things meant anything. And all those nights spent worrying that something was wrong, was because of her. He loved her, and not you. 

You heard the hurt in his voice when she shut him down, it’s how you sound when you talk about him. You know what it looks like when you’re in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same, and now so does he. 

And it’s shit. 

After a week of moping in your bed and faking a migraine, your mom finally forces you to go to school, despite your protests of not wanting to kill anyone with your totally real flu. 

And so finally, you clutch your books close to your chest and cross the threshold of Riverdale High. 

It looks no different, nobody looks at you, nobody even acknowledges you, something they have never done. It’s like you’re the most important McCoy, why would they? And so you breath a sigh of relief as you make your way to your first class. 

You pass Josie and her lips part as if to say something, however they quickly close again and you pass her in silence. 

Your almost at your class when you hear your name being called and you curse quietly. 

What does he want? 

You want to cry. Why does he have to keep being here? Why does he have to keep forcing you to remember that he exists and that he doesn’t want you. 

“Y/n, please?” He begs, his voice cracking and you feel your heart break all over again. You take a shaky breath before forcing yourself to turn around and face the brown eyed boy who’s staring at you with so much sadness in his eyes that you think he’s gonna burst. 

“Yes?” You force out and try to smile at him, however it comes out as more of a grimace and so you just purse your lips and wait for him to answer. 

“Can we talk?” He asks and you look behind you. 

“I er- I have a class to get to.” 

“I know.” He nods. “Chemistry with Miss Click. You sit beside Neil and he throws pencils at his brother Will who sits on the other side of you. Toni sits three rows behind you and constantly passes notes to you that sometimes make you laugh so hard you snort and then have to pretend that you’re just coughing when Miss Click asks you if you’re okay. On Thursdays, Olivia is always late, and when she does turn up she always offers you the last of her gum because you help her catch up on what she’s missed.” 

“Sweet Pe-” 

“It’ll only take a minute.” He interrupts and you sigh before reluctantly nodding. 

The corridor suddenly empties and you feel yourself shrink under his gaze. 

“I know you love me.” He says and your eyes widen. 

“What?! I er- who told you?” 

“Fangs.” He says and you let out a deflated sigh. “But it’s okay, because I’m glad he did. It made me realize something. I know what classes you have and who you sit beside in each one. I know that when you’re sad you always want chocolate and when you’re angry you want tea. You cry when you see a cute cat on the street and you always pet dogs no matter what, even if they are barking at you and are literally about to rip your arm off. You don’t like dark chocolate but you’ll eat biscuits covered in dark chocolate, and you like peas but you don’t like sweetcorn because you think they try too hard to be different. I know the excuses you tell your mom and I know the ridiculously stupid lengths you go to to keep them up like bribing the chess club to pretend that you’re apart of them and even convincing the yearbook committee to publish a picture of you with the club.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” You smile sadly and he mirrors your expression. 

“Because, I know you. I know how much you love all of us and I know how hard you fought for all of us. I know that you always buy Fangs Twizzlers whenever you’re at a shop, and you buy me Twinkies and Toni Milk Duds because they make us happy. I know all of these useless facts about you, and I know so much more. And I know nothing about Josie, other than what everybody else knows. I know her as a McCoy, but I know you as Y/n. And-and, I love you Y/n.” 

“What?” Your jaw drops and he bites his lip anxiously. 

“I am so, so sorry. I should have told you it’s just Josie didn’t want anybody to know and I wanted to make her happy. But I made you and everybody else worry and I ended up making you miserable. I have been an idiot. I thought I liked Josie but I think I was just pretending that I didn’t love you because I didn’t want to ruin what he had if you didn’t feel the same way. 

“Sweet Pea.” You laugh nervously, not really sure what else to do. He reaches out and grabs your hands, pulling you close to him. 

“You’re not the other one Y/n, you’re the right one.” 

✨taglist ✨

@popcrone818 @teenloves @kpopgirlbtssvt @amberritonicole

support my writing! if you want!

[andhumanslovedstories]

I’ve been working on this theory lately about my own media consumption that I’ll call representational contrarianism because I’m tickled at giving it a fancy sounding name. And it’s like this: given the choice between media with canonical queer characters and media that has characters you could argue are queer, I’ll default to the latter nine times out of ten.

And it’s like. Why?

(And yeah, this is a post about Supernatural, but it’s not ABOUT Supernatural, you know? Also everything is about Supernatural except Supernatural which is about umm truly who fucking knows.) 

So, for me (and consider that the big disclaimer for this post) queer characters created by queer people either cut too close to the truth, or they’re disappointing. If they’re truthful, then the truth, through the warped lens of my own insecurities and uncertainties, becomes “yes Sarah this is who you are” or “no Sarah you ain’t this.” If they’re disappointing, if I don’t like them or I don’t like the romance or I like some other character better, I feel like I’m letting someone down--not always sure who, just someone, maybe it’s myself, maybe it’s the Community, maybe it’s this fictional person--and further, this becomes another tick in a column labeled “you’re straight and you’ve always been straight, you hurt gay people by thinking otherwise, and also everyone’s laughing at you.” Which is a lot of pressure to put on kindle lesbian romance novels I picked up for $1.99, but that’s what I feel. 

The important thing is, these characters and stories are tests I’m very capable of failing.  

And queer people created by straight people--look, it’s not universally true, but look at the shitty way explicit homosexuality is treated on Supernatural (a joke! flat! background! nothing!) versus the absolutely inadvertent queer-coding they did with Dean, Sam, and Cas. They wrote three distinct queer masculine allegories by complete fucking accident. They couldn’t have done that on purpose. They don’t think gay people are people in the same way that straight people are people. They think that they’re Gay and then a little later that they are people. (And does my hyperfixation on this issue mean that I approach gay characters the same way as shitty straight writers? Hahahahaha shut the fuck up I’m almost in therapy again, this is all on the docket.) 

Queer characters created by queer people are a litmus test, and queer characters created by straight people are pandering. And you don’t really know about the creators that often, and they shouldn’t have to list their identities on the back of the book (although catch me scanning acknowledgements for the words wife, partner, people thanked with love but identified only as an initial, like deciphering how this book might make me feel is a test I can cheat on, but what do you do with a writers room? Memorize the gay ones if you can, cross-reference who wrote what eps?). So I’m comparing myself against these characters (bad choice) in the hopes of learning about myself while also hyperanalyzing these characters in a way that would be insanely unfair to do to a real person (are they Truly Gay? are they Truly Good Representation? if I don’t like them, is it their fault or my fault or their story’s fault or God’s fault or or or or or or or). So I end up evaluating this central question about myself--literally the question Who Am I--against characters (again, a bad choice) that I swivel wildly between believing they are better at being gay than me (because they might have been written by queer people) or are worse at being gay than me (because they might have been written by straight people). 

(I know this is horribly reductive in regards to representation and own voices and good writing. You don’t want to see how long this post was with nuance.) 

And let’s do the ultimate thought experiment: let’s say they did Supernatural good. And now Dean is bisexual! Yay! Canonically! They decide this in season four and he comes out and maybe he always knew or maybe this is all new to him, whatever, it’s all handled fantastically. GLAAD awards for everyone. 

If Dean was gay, canonically gay, if he had what I do not--a cast of writers, a voice of God saying definitely, yes, yes, he is sexually and romantically attracted to multiple genders, he is Canon now, there was an interview in Entertainment Weekly about it and everything--then he is gayer by default than me--no writers, no God, no all hands meeting when everyone nods solemnly and concludes, let’s give the people what they want: this one’s a dyke. And he slips somewhere I can’t follow, into that tantalizing paradise called Certainty, and he learns the gay lingo, and he learns the hidden stereotypes only gay people get to know about other gay people, and he unlocks the Shared History and the Inside Jokes, and he speaks to the other people in the club with the knowledge that all of them deserve to be there because they know that they deserve to be there.  

(Meanwhile, I am not in the club, I am instead down at the courthouse where I get called forward before the Gender Judges who reviewed the emergency application I made in the middle of the night, and they ask, “It says here you want to change your name?” and I say, “Actually no, I thought about it but the idea of being called anything other than Sarah genuinely horrifies me,” and they ask, “But you did say you were considering experimenting with your pronouns?” and I say, “Again, no, I’ve toyed with the thought but the idea of me being referred to as anything other than she/her viscerally disgusts me,” and they ask, “Okay but what is it that horrifies and disgusts you: the thought of being identified as someone you aren’t, or making a fuss about your identity in a way that draws attention to it?” and being unable to come up with an answer, I throw myself out the nearest window and start running, also causing me to miss my scheduled meeting with the Sexuality forum where we were going to litigate whether I was allowed to use dyke like that a paragraph back.)

(We don’t have time to get into gender. Just assume this all applies to gender stuff as well, and we’ll move on.)

But. If he’s not canonically anything, then he is as gay as I make him. In this daydream or that fanfic, we make the subtext text and here is a queer story, a gay story, a story about me as I would like to be seen and would like to be, and when I am done, I spray him off with some windex and wipe him down to factory settings. And then tomorrow there’s a different fantasy where he’s gay in a different way, a nuance, a tweak, a thousand variations on the same basic premise (what if this guy liked guys), and if I don’t like one, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t stick. It’s a novel written in sand. The appeal is that it’ll wash away. Why should he be any more sure than me? 

Anyway, that’s why queerbaiting is good actually (joke). 

[vivithefolle]

I just wanna ask, and don’t get mad at me cause I’m genuinely curious, how do you stan Ron? Like, I like him, but he is definitely misogynistic (slut shaming Ginny, treating hermione like she owes him something and being mad that she kissed someone years before, always objectifying Fleur, and acting like girls who aren’t pretty aren’t worth much). Like, by DH I feel like he definitely has mostly grown out of it, but still 6/7 books he’s kinda unbearable IMO

how do you stan Ron? 

Like this:

OH MY GOD HAVE YOU SEEN. HAVE YOU SEEN HIM DID YOU SEE MY BABY OH MY GOD. WHEN HARRY’S ARM HAD GONE KABLOOIE BECAUSE OF LOCKHART AND HE. RON. HE WAS. HELPING HIM GET DRESSED???? OH MY GOD BABY???? HHHHNNNNGGGG. AND. AND. AND ALSO WHEN HE. OMG. WHEN HE WAS PUTTING FOOD ON HIS FRIENDS’ PLATES LIKE. MOM FRIEND ALERT MOM FRIEND ALERT MOM FRIEND ALERT. AND THE WAY HE’S ALWAYS BLUSHING AND BEING EMBARRASSED AT THE SLIGHTEST PRAISE BUT ALSO HE’S SO DESPERATELY SEEKING IT BUT HE KNOWS HE CAN’T TAKE IT AND EEK EEK EEK THAT’S SO CUTE SOMEONE HOLD ME IT’S ADORABLE RONALD WEASLEY YOU ARE SO GOING TO BE THE DEATH OF ME IT’S ILLEGAL TO BE THIS CUTE!!!!

Ok and then.

he is definitely misogynistic 

No. And here’s why.

slut shaming Ginny 

Yes, that was wrong. And guess what, that’s also something he probably - scratch that, definitely - picked up from his mother. And also his brothers, recall how Fred and George too don’t like to see Ginny go around with boys. There’s also something to recall: Ron was there when Ginny was taken into the Chamber of Secrets and learned later that it was because she had trusted an older guy. You seriously wouldn’t be paranoid about who your sister dates after that? It was wrong. Yeah. And he more than learned his lesson when Ginny clapped back by virgin-shaming him and basically told him that he was childish because he hadn’t have a relationship yet. So would that make Ginny sexist too? Or is it just for Ron?

treating hermione like she owes him something 

..................... uuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhh... when? When the fuck did anything like that happen?

He made a prat of himself at the Yule Ball, that much is obvious. But he didn’t tell her anything like “you should be with me” or didn’t insinuate anything of the sort. He was a jealous bitch but kept attacking Krum, not Hermione.

If you mean in sixth year when he treated her with “icy, sneering indifference” for the course of two weeks, yeah that was bad but that’s not “treating her like she owes him something”, the fuck?

being mad that she kissed someone years before 

Yeah. I know. And that was bad, ooooh you got me to admit Ron did bad stuff, that’s what you want to see, right? And I reckon he was also mad that she hid it from him, and that he had to learn it from his sister of all people. We see Ron handles what he considers betrayals terribly. I have some meta discussing the possibility that he has a form of Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria.

always objectifying Fleur 

Um... no, he doesn’t. He makes a stupid comment about her once in GOF then stops. Let’s also fucking remember that Fleur is a Veela, she literally makes guys stare at her as part of her powers!! I’m not blaming her because she’s literally born that way, but you can’t blame someone who is under magical compulsion either.

acting like girls who aren’t pretty aren’t worth much 

So tell me why he was friends with Hermione then?

Because Hermione wasn’t Emma Watson the super hawt sexy model goddess. Hermione was Mrs Generic. Until this once at the Yule Ball when she got the pretty princess perfect Mary Sue makeover but then stopped because she had to remain ~relatable uwu~.

Again. Ron made stupid sexist comments. But it’s actively shown that he doesn’t follow up on them. If he did indeed live by the motto “girls who aren’t pretty aren’t worth much”, explain to me why he wasn’t simping and drooling all over Padma Patil who is explicitly stated to be one of the prettiest girls at school when she was his date? Why exactly did he ignore her and was a miserable twat the whole evening instead of basking in the joy of having snagging a girl that was “worth it”? Well surprise, it’s because HE ACTUALLY ISN’T LIKE THAT AND WHAT HE SAYS IS MAYBE SHIT HIS “COOL OLDER BROTHERS” SAY AND HE THINKS THAT BY EXTENSION IT WOULD MAKE HIM COOL TO REPEAT IT. MIMETISM, THAT'S BASIC FUCKING HUMAN PSYCHOLOGY FOR FUCKING TODDLERS MY FUCKING GOD.

Like, by DH I feel like he definitely has mostly grown out of it, 

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

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

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

so. so why. so why wouldn’t you. use that. as a reason. to stan him.

like.

fuck all the “hurr durr ron weasley the boy who made it out of the friendzone!!!!” bullshit, let’s start going with “Ron Weasley, the Boy who became a Man, and not one of those 'uugghh im such an alpha male’ ones but one that’s got the balls to say ‘hey love, I’ve got an idea, what if you kept doing that job you love and feel passionate about while I support you and do the majority of the childcare while also working a smaller job on the side so we’re never short on money’“

Why you people gotta be “yeah I like Ron BUTT” when you know full-well this fucking awful fandom will rake him over hot coals over the slightest mistake he does - worse, will actively go out of their way to interpret his positive moments in the most negative way possible??? Fuck off with that bullshit. Ron dared to say bad stuff omygah big deal, he was forgiven for it all and you’re just all cowards looking to feel “pure” by telling yourself “oh yeah but he was problematic once uwu”. FUCK. THAT. NOISE.

but still 6/7 books he’s kinda unbearable IMO 

And IMO he’s not, funny how that works

So.

I guess it’s impossible to stan Ron because he was problematic uwu.

Ok.

Then I hereby decree that it’s impossible to stan Hermione Granger because:

“I’ll bet you wish you hadn’t given up Divination now, don’t you, Hermione?” asked Parvati, smirking. [...] “Not  really,”  said  Hermione  indifferently,  who  was  reading  the  Daily Prophet. “I’ve never really liked horses.” She turned a page of the newspaper, scanning its columns. “He’s not a horse, he’s a centaur!” said Lavender, sounding shocked. “A gorgeous centaur . . .” sighed Parvati. “Either  way,  he’s  still  got  four  legs,”  said  Hermione  coolly.  “Any-way, I thought you two were all upset that Trelawney had gone?” - Order of the Phoenix, ch 27

wow casual use of a racial slur yay!!! A+

And it’s also forbidden to stan Harry Potter either since:

It was raining hard now, and she was nowhere to be seen. He simply did not understand what had happened; half an hour ago they had been getting along fine. “Women!”  he  muttered  angrily,  sloshing  down  the  rain-washed  street with his hands in his pockets. “What did she want to talk about Cedric  for  anyway?  Why  does  she  always want to drag up a subject that makes her act like a human hosepipe?” - Order of the Phoenix, ch 25

and

“Harry! There you are, thank goodness! Hi, Luna!”  “What’s  happened  to  you?”  asked  Harry,  for  Hermione  looked  distinctly  disheveled,  rather  as  though she had just fought her way out of a thicket of Devil’s Snare.  “Oh,  I’ve  just  escaped  —  I  mean,  I’ve  just  left  Cormac,”  she  said.  “Under  the  mistletoe,”  she  added in explanation, as Harry continued to look questioningly at her.  “Serves you right for coming with him,” he told her severely.  “I thought he’d annoy Ron most,” said Hermione dispassionately. “I debated for a while about Zacharias Smith, but I thought, on the whole —”  “You considered Smith?” said Harry, revoked. - Half-Blood Prince

Victim-blaming! Nice Harry, nice. Always classy.

Ok, Ginny stanning is already cancelled because she virgin-shamed Ron, right, so who’s left, who’s left... ah yeah:

“There you go,” said Fred proudly. “Best range of love potions you’ll find anywhere.” - Half-Blood Prince

Selling date rape drugs proudly ouh là là. Bye Fred.

"Do they work?” she asked.  “Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question...”  “...and the attractiveness of the girl,” said George, reappearing suddenly at their side. “But we’re not  selling  them  to  our  sister,”  he  added,  becoming  suddenly  stern,  “not  when  she’s  already  got  about five boys on the go from what we’ve...”  “Whatever you’ve heard from Ron is a big fat lie,” said Ginny calmly, leaning forward to take a small pink pot off the shelf.

Assuming that only girls use love potions, and only on boys. Men never rape in JKR’s world, only women do, you heard it from George Weasley here folks, I’m just passing on the message. Ah and I hope you’re also starting the Fred And George Hate Club given how he’s also slut-shaming Ginny.

“What’s this?”  “Guaranteed  ten-second  pimple  vanisher,”  said  Fred.  “Excellent  on  everything  from  boils  to  blackheads,  but  don’t  change  the  subject.  Are  you  or  are  you  not  currently  going  out  with  a  boy  called Dean Thomas?” “Yes, I am,” said Ginny. “And last time I looked, he was definitely one boy, not five. What are those?”  She  was  pointing  at  a  number  of  round  balls  of  fluff  in  shades  of  pink  and  purple,  all  rolling  around the bottom of a cage and emitting high-pitched squeaks.  “Pygmy  Puffs,”  said  George.  “Miniature  puffskeins,  we  can’t  breed  them  fast  enough.  So  what  about Michael Corner?”  “I  dumped  him,  he  was  a  bad  loser,”  said  Ginny,  putting  a  finger  through  the  bars  of  the  cage  and watching the Pygmy Puffs crowd around it. “They’re really cute!”  “They’re  fairly  cuddly,  yes,”  conceded  Fred.  “But  you’re  moving  through  boyfriends  a  bit  fast,  aren’t you?”  Ginny turned to look at him, her hands on her hips. There was such a Mrs. Weasley-ish glare on her face that Harry was surprised Fred didn’t recoil.  “It’s none of your business. And I’ll thank you” she added angrily to Ron, who had just appeared at George’s elbow, laden with merchandise, “not to tell tales about me to these two!”

Ah, good on you for defending yourself, Ginny, but remember, Ginny stanning is prohibited because she’s been problematic in the past and is gonna be problematic in the future and that’s baaaaaaad. Careful kids, don’t get ideas. It’s problematic to like people who’ve done problematic things.

So I guess nobody can like anything or anyone now. Sorry guys. Liking things is evil, what if the thing you liked had, OR USED TO HAVE, *gasp* flaws, can’t take that risk, ohmygah.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

B2:S - Chapter 5

Much of this series will be about the differences and additions in the novel version, and how they contribute to my understanding of story canon. But there will be character appreciation, the odd theory and headcanon, and suchlike as well.

Here be lots of Viren deets, Best Boy Soren deets, some writing/continuity stuff, worldbuilding appreciation and half of a theory, Detective Rayla, Moon Temple geeking, Claudium and dark magic, and more!

Spoilers for Book Two: Sky below.

(I know for darn sure that I wrote up a post for chapter 4, but I can't find it anywhere so I guess Tumblr ate it and I'll have to redo it at some point, but today is not that day)

Viren, my evil dude, my bad guy, coming in clutch with the worldbuilding and backstory again! If you want to know decades of information, you gotta talk to Viren. Or read his scenes, at least. Here, he seems to not sleep much when he has a big problem to analyze his way through. Solutions trump pretty much everything else in this guy's life, and he's had a really hard week with a lot of new and complicated problems. Of course he's getting sleep-deprived trying to find his way through them all.

Harrow put so much trust in Viren when he made him High Mage! He just threw himself extra hard at that Lady Justice blindfold, didn't he? Didn't really want to see what Viren was doing in his magic study, so he left Viren to his devices. And Viren has a lot of devices.

Also, this is fascinating: Viren made the secret passage to his "less official study" in Katolis Castle! And he was inspired to do so by the way his own mentor kept the Puzzle House. What else could a Puzzle House be, except a place with secret passages? Yay! secret headcanon that "the Puzzle House" is just "Katolis Castle" from Kid Viren's perspective tho

So either Viren built all of those passageways, or at least the ones to his dungeon. Which means he has to have, or know where to get, a stash of those glowing blue Moonshadow crystals. Hmmm.

I can't wait to learn more about Kpp'Ar and young Viren, btw. From this description of Viren and all his literal secret ways, it feels like another parallel between Viren and Runaan, with the whole "secretive paths, members only, insider knowledge" type stuff. Only the really cool members of this cult club get to know the secrets, and guess what, kid, you're cool now but you can never tell anyone, okay? Our secret.

Yeahhh, that'll never backfire in any way for either of them.

Kpp'Ar calling puzzles and secrets "man-made magic," though. Yes sir, knowledge is indeed power.

This chapter mentions Runaan by name, from Viren's perspective. Generally that would imply that Viren knows his name, even though assassins do not share their names, and Runaan didn't seem to give his to Viren in the first book. However, there was a scene in book one where the last paragraph switched perspective from Viren to Runaan - a technique that's very common in visual media like movies and shows and gives you that "ohoho they left the room and didn't notice this, but you do!" vibe. Using Runaan's name there in book one, where Viren couldn't see it but readers could, helps them keep track of the assassin's story arc while maintaining Viren's racism.

So in book two, in which Runaan has no onscreen scenes (alas), using his name in a scene that calls back to the events in book one helps us remember what happened in that dungeon cell. It would be a bit muddier to recall the specifics if Viren kept thinking about Runaan as "Elf." So I'm cool with the perspective nudge because it serves a narrative purpose: clarity. But I'm also enjoying the angst of considering that, somehow, Viren learned Runaan's name either during or after the coining spell. Mwa ha ha haaa. (Obligatory "Keep my pretty name outta your mouth" goes here)

Okay, back to Viren's scheming! He took the mirror because it was human-sized in a dragon lair. He knew it didn't really fit there, and that made it interesting, so he stole it. But he realized it was really powerful when Runaan wouldn't tell him squat about it - the assassin's instinct to protect Xadian secrets from human hands meant that Viren was holding a very powerful Xadian secret. And that just made him want it all the more. Ah, Runaan, if only your relationship with lying was, like, the exact opposite of what it is. Nyx could've spun Viren a believable tale in 2 minutes flat.

Also of interest: Viren considers his cursed coins to be a final fate. He expects Runaan to remain in his coin forever. With the Chekhov's coins still extant in the storyline, we can assume that they'll come up again eventually, but Viren has no current plans to do anything with his elf money except carry it around.

It's worth noting that Viren admits that he got impatient when he trapped Runaan in the coin. Runaan's first fate in Katolis was supposed to be death at Soren's hands, but Claudia "saved" him from that. His next fate was to become spell components, but Viren's frustration with his stubbornness "saved" him from that fate, too. So now he's in a coin, where no one can chop him up at all. Yay? No, boo!

We get one last line about Runaan before Viren shifts gears: he makes a point of noting for us that Runaan's shackles are still locked shut. However much of Runaan made it into that coin - body, soul, hair care products - he was magicked there, pulled right out of his restraints.

The creepy black liquid that Viren pours right into his eyes is the last of a powerful potion he got from Kpp'Ar, and its recipe is ancient! Humans used it back in the age of Elarion to see through the illusions of the world. And we get a delightfully creepy bit of description about the preparation of this serum, which makes it abundantly clear that it's a Moon magic-based concoction, harvested from eyeless vipers on a moonless night, with the threat of irrevocable madness ("madness" by whose definition, though) if it's done wrong-

Hang on. Hold up. This is a Plato's Cave reference. OH MY GOD.

No no I'm fine, this is brilliant. Sorry, sorry, I couldn't figure why there was so much description for a potion prep that Viren didn't even have to perform himself. But now I get it. I see the light. HA. I should make a separate post for this, it's amazing.

Anyway, for reference, the humans who used this serum were called the Oracles of Ophidia, and Ophidia is a taxonomy group that includes all modern snakes. Can you say "creepy ancient snake rites"? I can! Woo!

Viren activates the serum with a spell, but apparently he's never done it before. He's not sure if it's supposed to be hot and bubbly, and he worries that it's been tainted by moonlight.

Oh, I do hope so.

The magic potion hurts, a lot. Viren will do just about anything, to himself or anyone, to do what he believes is necessary. He just risked madness and blindness to find out what this mirror does! Viren. Can you just. Take a nap or something. Have a Snickers.

This chapter gives us a fun clue that I don't remember from the show: when Viren's vision clears and he can see, his reflection has white pupils and the room reflected in the mirror has inverted colors. You know where else has inverted colors?

You know who else got white pupils for a hot second?

Okay, now it makes sense! Viren and Lujanne were both seeing into the realm beyond life and death. Him with his moon magic potion, and her with her moon powers on a full moon night at the Moon Nexus. Which is Very Interesting! Is it a direct hint about Aaravos's location, or just a separate cool detail? Orrr, does it look like a direct hint because Aaravos is actually trapped in the world beyond life and death, but it's actually separate and we'll see something about white pupils again later on?

Viren really does have self-esteem issues, we all picked up on it with his rant at his reflection. He throws a fit when he catches himself wondering if he's actually worthless. In the book version of his tantrum, he shoves the mirror and hurls a candelabra instead of flipping a table. He didn't need to shove the mirror to set the fire, but it's in here. Foreshadowing that perhaps, if push comes to shove, Viren will choose himself over Aaravos? Giving Aaravos time to peek through and see that the coast is clear?

Soren, my boyyyyy. He has a rough night at the Moon Nexus because two sides of him are fighting with each other. He struggles to understand Callum's friendship with Rayla, and he also fantasizes about chopping off Rayla's head. One of these is a pretty ordinary thing to do. The other is Soren's internalization of what he needs to do to gain his father's approval. If he brought his dad a chopped off elf head every week, he'd probably feel a lot more confident because Viren would praise him a lot more.

Okay, okay, omg, is it just me, or does the "Moonshadow Madness" story, as it's told in the book, seem like Soren just doesn't know what a monsterfucker is? He thinks an elf bite puts humans under a spell. But vampires are sexy, and some people want them to do more to them than just bite them. A passionate kiss under the moonlight could look very bitey, especially if one of the participants has horns and you're already culturally trained to hate them. No yeah, I'm already headcanoning an actual human-elf kiss that got misunderstood by an observer long ago.

it's Lujanne isn't it, we all know, because what is a love spell but a sweet soft illusion, I mean how else does she get supplies for her Caldera, I ask you, and also Corvus was totally sent to investigate once and he told Soren at camp what he saw

And then back to magefam angst: Soren pretending that his sister's nose-tapping is stupid, even though he actually thinks it's cool, just because their dad thinks it's stupid. Viren, istg. Let your kids like harmless things. It's so cute that Soren taps his nose back at her, though! Like they have their own sibling code. I hope we get to see the nose tap again, especially now that they've chosen different sides. It could mean so much, that they're not too far apart yet.

Rayla knows what buttery pancakes smell like. I love this. Do Moonshadow elves have butter and pancakes, does Rayla eat a stack of eight giant pancakes in the morning? Orrrr it is just illusion food? I don't care, let Rayla have pancakes! Everyone loves pancakes. Pancakes will save the world. this message brought to you by the fact that I can't eat pancakes rn, send help

I love that Rayla is both sus of the pancakes and hungry, and that combines into a very motivated "I will get to the bottom of this" attitude. She kind of goes into Poirot Mode when she inserts herself into Soren and Ellis's conversation about Ava, explaining about the wolf's illusion leg and segueing into her claim that the pancakes taste sus. Claudia confirms she used dark magic, and Rayla is furious. It's different than the show's version in that it puts Rayla in detective mode, as the only Moonshadow elf in the scene, and boy does she take that role seriously. Also, she doesn't actually swallow the dark magic pancake bite. It ends up on the ground just like Lujanne's grubs from that earlier meal. These poor kids are so nutrient-starved. You guys gotta eat!!

Rayla's determination and prejudices and the fact that she super knows Harrow is dead all dovetail to make her try repeatedly to persuade Callum that Soren and Claudia are Not To Be Trusted. It's nice that the book keeps taking the time to point out that Rayla is Well Intentioned But Flawed, just like Callum and pretty much every other character in the show. No one is Right All The Time, no one Knows More Than Everyone Else.

Callum loving the sound of Claudia's unique voice is so wholesome. When you like someone, it only makes sense that you like all the things about them that they can't change - like the sound of Claudia's voice. Her choices with dark magic, not so much!

Claudia seems to have the same concerns Soren does about Callum's relationship with Rayla, but she comes out and asks him. The inherent possession implied in "your elf" is interesting, though. Elves are not people to Claudia. They're enemies who can be disassembled for the magic inside them. So maybe more like robots than living beings, if she knew what a robot was. Maybe she heard Soren's "Moonshadow Madness" story and realized he totally missed the kissing implications - but she didn't, and now she's genuinely worried that Rayla could kiss Callum under a full moon and enchant him to do her will. Good thing it's only a half moon, then!

Okay, Callum nervously making a puppet hand and then not knowing what to do with his hands and freaking out about itching and moving and pointy elbows is such a ND mood. The sudden stress of knowing that someone else is noticing your existence and maybe you're Not Existing Right, amirite? Ugh, poor Callum.

The Moon Temple! Omg it's so pretty in the description! Made to be beautiful and useful, full of knowledge but also allowing light and life inside (butterflies and vines). Lujanne, when can I move in, please? Also, it's all the more angsty because Lujanne is the only one who gets to see this beautiful place, but it has lots of chairs and shelves and tables, and it was meant to be used by lots of people. :(((

Claudia knows some of the runes on the walls. She isn't in a hurry to copy the rest of them down or anything, either. Her spellwriting is very precise, and she's a skilled mage. Her father would have made sure she was aware of the dangers of drawing sloppy runes, as much as he made her aware of the dangers of doing dark magic wrong. And the whole point of dark magic is that it's easier to learn than primal magic. Claudia supports her dad and their shared knowledge and life path. She's not gonna go nuts over an elf library she can't translate.

Side note: Between Claudia knowing some Moon runes and Viren building a secret passageway and a dungeon and lighting it with the same blue crystals that Lujanne and Ethari use for light--and Claudia exclaiming that she loves ruins--I wonder once more if there are really Moonshadow ruins somewhere in Katolis, which Viren has found and looted. Father-daughter relic hunting trip, maybe while Soren is away at camp? Omgsh that would be so wild!

Callum out here having a Viren moment with his "I feel powerless unless I've got magic that lets me help" vibes. God. I love their complicated mirroring. One of the hard differences between them is that Callum is very sure dark magic is bad because you have to kill stuff and take its power to cast spells, and he doesn't want to be a person who kills and takes like that. The line he walks to be nice to Claudia on their tour of the Cursed Caldera because he likes her, while telling her that he doesn't want to do her magic, like, ever, is so fine that it might as well be a shifting shadow on the ground. It's a very fitting conversation to be having during the half moon, with its tricks and little white lies.

Callum being out of the castle and his comfort zone, having to deal with the fact that the Claudia he loves is not quite the Claudia who's chasing him down across the kingdom, but of the two of them, he's the only one with a problem with this.

They say that if you really want to get to know someone, you should spend time with them outside their comfort zone - in heavy traffic, with a small baby, taking care of a new pet, trying a new skill, following unfamiliar directions, etc. While the castle is familiar territory for them both, Callum's never really found his comfort zone yet, while Claudia is pretty comfortable with her growing skill set. The creepy part starts to kick in when Callum begins to realize that Claudia's comfort zone encompasses a whole bunch of stuff that seems like it should make her uncomfortable... but it doesn't. But that'll be for a future chapter!

[kagedaddy]

you meet again - haikyuu!

Warnings: none

boyfriend scenarios [2] [masterlist]

ushijima wakatoshi

You take one last glance at yourself at the mirror before slipping on your earphones, pulling on your running shoes.

You decided to take different route today, stretching out your muscles before starting in a slow jog.

You look ahead of you and you are met with Ushijima’s back, he was clad in your school’s volleyball club jacket. You don’t know what got in you but you decided to match his pace and jog by his side.

“Hey!”you said as you came up to him and he simply grunts in response,”do you mind if I run with you?”you pull out one of your earphone.

“Hmm sure,”he answers monotonously without even taking a glance at you.

You both continue to jog, occasionally talking about volleyball and some common interests you both shared.

“Yeah, I’ll need to improve my control on my serv-,”you were cut off as you were pushed to the ground by a group of basketball players.

They had shoved you as they raced each other, you tried to stand but there’s pain burning from you ankle. Ushijima looks to you and notices you on the floor and having trouble standing.

“Are you okay?”you look up to him and shake your head, he stares at you for a few seconds before he offers his hand for you to take.

He helps you up and you cringed in pain as you stand in your full weight,”uh, I guess just go ahead. I’ll need to sit for a bit,”you let out a strained smile.

“The schools close by I can just carry you.”he picks me up and carries me bridal style, my face flushes from embarrassment as people stare at the both of us, it was an odd site. I was in the arms of the large volleyball captain of Shiratorizawa.

“Uh, thank you!”

tendou satori

You continue on with the book your reading, it was getting good the main character was finally about to confess her feelings before you were interrupted by a certain red head.

“(last name)-chan, here’s your journal,”the monster guesser hands you the leather bound book and you quickly take it but he holds on to it.

“I thought you were returning it?”You raise an eyebrow in question as you eye his hand on the end of your journal.

“I am but..”he trails off as he smiles, a smile you know that’s gonna cause you trouble,”but?”you now become stressed, did he know that the poems you wrote were about him.

Your heart drummed loudly in your chest, feeling panic rise as you force a smile,”do you like someone from the volleyball club?”both his eyebrows raised as he stares at you.

“No”

“Don’t lie to me (last name)-chan.”he playfully pouts at you and your face heats up even more.”Tendou-san I don’t like anyone,”you try to convince him as you pack your things away.

“Aww but your writings all say so, if he’s from the volleyball team. I can help you, is it wakatoshi-kun?”

“Tendou-san it’s okay!”you awkwardly laugh, you couldn’t tell him that is was his charming self you admired.

You both walk out of the classroom, “so you do like him!”Tendou says cheerfully and you just shake your head.

“Don’t worry (last name)-chan, I’ll help you!”

//

herro! yay, back to normal updates again hehe! anyways if you guys enjoyed it please leave a like and comment. i wanna hear what you guys think of my writing and what i can improve on. ohh if you have any requests, ask away! thanks and have a great day!!

all the love xx

[btsficsforthehumble]

adj.: 1. Modern, unfamiliar, or different

2. Not based on or conforming to what is generally done or believed

pairing: reader x ot7

genre: college au; angst, fluff, smut, poly, ot7

Summary: You begin your first year at a prestigious university, set out on achieving your academic goals when a series of men step into your life that change the way you view the definition of love.

Part Seven

Warnings: sexual insinuations, slight sexual harassment (catcalling)

Word count: 2.7k

You hear Hoseok’s cheery voice call out your name almost immediately after you step into the quaint coffee shop. You send him a smile and a wave. Spotting Taehyung across Hoseok at the table, you send him a slightly more hesitant smile. The one he returns is one you have grown used to, now --- cheeky.

You order your coffee and walk over to the table after you get it from the barista. As you walk over, Taehyung sees you, and quickly clears away his stuff so you can take the seat next to him, and not Hoseok. At the sight, you hold back the urge to frown. It seemed like the pain in the ass Taehyung was back.

You sit, and Hoseok looks up from the textbook in front of him. “Hey y/n! How are you?” he says, his classic sunny smile on his face.

“I’m good! And you?”

“I’m great! I was just beginning to practice some problems for the first chapter, do you want to do them together?” he asks.

“Yeah! Let me just take out my book,” you answer, already reaching in your bag.

“Here, just use mine.” Taehyung slides his book across the tabletop, leaving it directly in front of you.

“Don’t you need yours?” You ask, furrowing your brows in confusion.

“Nah, I already did chapter one,” he explains with a shrug.

“Oh, okay, if you’re sure…”

“Yeah, go for it.”

At that, you and Hoseok begin to tear through the problem sets, moving rapidly as you had secretly studied prior to coming. As you finish the first chapter, he looks up at you and gives a noise of surprise. “You didn’t need any help at all! You weren’t giving yourself enough credit, y/n!” he teases.

You divert your eyes, feeling a blush climb to your cheeks from his praise. When you look back up, it’s Taehyung that catches your gaze. He was giving you a knowing smirk, seemingly having picked up on your little crush on Hoseok.

Your eyes dart back to Hoseok as you respond. “Let’s see how the next chapter goes, it might not be so easy…”

He makes a noise of agreement, flipping his textbook to the next chapter. “Yeah, it does get a bit harder. I’m sure you are already a pro though, based off of chapter one!” He gives you a toothy grin, causing your blush to return. “Taehyung, you didn’t do chapter two, right?”

----

An hour later, the three of you had managed to get through all of the practice problems together. All of you feeling tired, you were fast to slip into conversation about anything other than the math in front of you.

You learn that Hoseok is an environmental science major, and a third year. He also shares that he was in your school’s dance club, but shyly declines to bust a move at your and Taehyung’s insistence. His bubbly personality only grows when talking about his passions.

Having learnt Taehyung’s major earlier today, the only new information you got out of him was that he is a second year student, and is taking calculus as a general math requirement. He doesn’t care for it, personally, he says. Despite that, he also seemed to do just fine when the three of you trudged through the problems.

Before you depart for the night, Taehyung catches both of you, and invites you both to a party, hosted by his roommate on Saturday.

“I was told to invite everyone, so feel free to bring anyone you want. It’s supposed to be a back to school thing,” he explains.

Hoseok frowns. “I already was invited to something on Saturday, actually. Maybe next time!”

Their eyes both move to you, waiting for your response. “Uhm, yeah, I’ll come,” you answer. You didn’t have plans and honestly, you imagine you’ll want to relieve some stress after this week anyway.

Taehyung looks like a cat that got the canary after you speak, and Hoseok looks happy you were able to accept the offer, as he’s smiling at both of you.

“Yay! That’ll be fun, y/n! I’m sure Tae here will make sure you have a good time!” he beams, completely oblivious to the subtext of his own words.

Unfortunately, Taehyung wasn’t. He didn’t seem to care about the casual nickname Hoseok had used, but more so about the dirty interpretation of his words. “Of course, it’s always a good time with me,” he says with a grin.

You felt yourself grow slightly restless at the dual conversation being had. You wanted to tell Taehyung to stop being annoying but didn’t want to draw Hoseok’s attention to the dirtiness of what was being said. Taehyung must have noticed your shiftiness, because he places one of his large hands on your knee.

“I wish I could come! You two have fun without me,” Hoseok pouts.

“Oh, we will! Next time, sunbae,” Taehyung answers, giving your knee a light squeeze.

The thoughts that filter through your mind at Taehyung's words are far from innocent. It was one thing to insinuate that you and Taehyung would be having sex, but to suggest that the time after Hoseok would also be involved? Combined with the thoughts and Taehyung’s hand on your knee, you felt yourself get slightly turned on. Trying to calm down, you squirm a little in your chair, which tips Taehyung off to the fact that you were affected by the situation. His grin turns downright wolfish, at your chagrin.

Hoseok appears oblivious, as he begins packing up his stuff preparing to go home. After a second, you hurry to follow suit. Taehyung removes his hand as you do, allowing you to gather your things peacefully while he gathers his own.

You all stand, ready to depart for the night. Slightly uncomfortable with your partially aroused status, you clutch onto your bag and bounce lightly on your feet. Taehyung’s obnoxious smile fails to leave his face as he watches you.

Eager to escape, you bid them both goodbye, and tell them both you’ll see them in class tomorrow before you hightail it out of the cafe. Before you get more than two steps out of the door however, you hear a voice call after you. You stop in your tracks, and Hoseok speeds out of the cafe to catch up to you.

“Do you want one of us to walk you home? It’s dark out, and neither of us mind, right Tae?” He turns over his shoulder to confirm this with Taehyung who had emerged from the cafe right after Hoseok had.

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t want anything to happen,” Taehyung replies, now leaning against the glass of the storefront.

You shift on your feet slightly, torn. They had a point, it would be safer to have one of them walk you, but you were already a little jittery from the suggestive conversation that was just had.

Seeing your indecisive state, Hoseok reasons, “I live over by Munsu Street, if you live over there it wouldn’t even be out of my way.”

You couldn’t figure out if you were disappointed or not that he lived in the complete opposite direction. “Actually, I’m on Bongdeog… don’t worry about it, I’m pretty far from you.”

Taehyung raises his eyebrows once he hears your street. “I’m only a street over from you. I’ll walk you home, it’s no problem,” he says while pushing off of the building.

You glance at Hoseok, who was smiling at Taehyung. “Great! All right guys, have a good night!” he says, already backing up to go the opposite direction of the one in which you and Taehyung were about to go.

“You too!” you call out to him as you start walking away, back facing his receding form.

Now you and Taehyung were alone. You feel safe, but are on edge --- but only because of how he riled you up only a number of minutes before. Taehyung, on the hand, seemed perfectly at ease. Hands in his pockets, he started walking --- no, more like strolling --- towards your street. You both fell into a silence. Tense on your part, but easy on his, it seems.

After a few minutes, you felt the tension in your shoulders start to fade. Taehyung probably didn’t want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable while you were alone, you thought. Which, honestly, was really thoughtful and sweet… it wouldn’t even occur to most guys to do that.

After another minute of walking, you see him tense up slightly and glance over to an alley that you were approaching. You look up at his face, with his heavy brows furrowed in concentration. He looks down at you, widens his eyes, seeming to ask for consent for something.

Confused, you nod. He quickly wraps his arm around your side to pull you into him, leaving you hip to hip, his hand still resting in the dip of your waist. You look up, startled at the action, but are interrupted before you can ask him what the hell he thought he was doing.

“Is that your girl? She’s mighty pretty.” A man's voice called, seeming to come from the alley that Taehyung had looked at with concern moments before.

You see a man step out, wearing what looked like baggy clothes with some mysterious stains on them. His hair looked unkempt and greasy all the way from where you were standing.

Now you understand why Taehyung had pulled you in. He must have known that alley held some shady figures.

“Just keep walking and ignore him. He won’t do anything with me here,” Taehyung leaned down to whisper in your ear. You nod in response, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself from the man, who now was only several meters away.

“Hey, I’m talking to you pretty boy. You want me to take her off your hands?” In response to the man's provocation, you felt Taehyung’s fingers tighten slightly on your waist. You could tell now that the man was visibly drunk, barely able to stand on his own, and seemed to be a poor soul that was down on his luck. You felt a pang of sympathy for the man.

You look again up to examine Taehyung’s face. He had his lips pressed into a flat line, and still had his eyebrows furrowed. The contortion of his normally open and playful features only emphasized his beauty. He looked so handsome, you think to yourself.

The thought passes quickly as you are brought back to reality. You were both now getting closer to the stranger, trying to pass by. You become more stiff with nerves, and Taehyung gives you a light squeeze of reassurance in response.

To your surprise, Taehyung reaches into his back pocket and produces a few bills from his wallet as you get closer to standing in front of the man. As you pass, he hands his money to the drunkard.

“Stay safe,” he tells the man, who was now looking at him with the same wide eyes you were giving him.

Taehyung ignores your wide stares, and continues walking as if nothing had occurred, completely unbothered. His hand still rested around your waist, however.

Realizing his luck, the man quickly scurries back down the alley from which he emerged, probably in fear that Taehyung would demand his money back.

Still surprised at what had happened, you were processing quietly to yourself for a minute. Once you both were out range of the man, Taehyung respectfully dropped his arm and gave you space.

You weren’t sure you were as relieved about it as you should be at his release. Your mind returns to the act he had done a moment ago, and couldn’t resist asking him about it now that you felt safe with the man gone.

“What was that about?” you ask bluntly, looking up at him to read his expression.

He just shrugged. After a second, he says, “That man is there all the time. Pretty sure he’s homeless. Drinks to cope, I think.”

Your eyes soften at his words. You had seen a serious side to him this morning; and now you were seeing him show his thoughtfulness and kindness, even for a stranger. Taehyung was proving to be a deeper person than what you had originally pegged him to be.

“You really didn’t have to do that, you know,” you say, wanting to get more out of him.

“I know.” He maintains his nonchalance. Seems like you wouldn’t be digging any deeper.

You both keep walking, again in silence. This time though, it is a completely comfortable one. The boy next to seemed like a different person than the one who touched your leg in secret and made innuendos about threesomes earlier. He seemed more mature, mellow even.

Before you even noticed, you and Taehyung had walked all the way to your street, both lost in your own thoughts. Moments later, you arrive at the front of your apartment building.

You stop at the entrance, and look up at Taehyung to say goodbye.

“This is me,” you offer.

He leans against the building, hands in his pockets. “Do you want me to join you up there?” He gives you one of his cheeky smirks.

“I think I can handle it.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “You sure?”

You sigh, and roll your eyes. “Try again next time, buddy.”

“You’ll want me soon? Wow, and here I was thinking you were a woman of virtue,” he grins.

“It doesn’t take virtue to turn you down, I’m afraid.”

He fakes a gasp, and covers his heart with his hand. “You wound me, y/n. And here I was thinking we were friends.”

“Ah, yes, because good friends keep trying to get in the pants of the other, I forgot.” You stretch your arms above your head, the textbook in your backpack beginning to weigh on your shoulders. You watched his eyes travel down your body and back up, becoming slightly hooded. You’ll admit stretching may have also been a way to tease Taehyung.

“You can’t blame me too much… you’re quite captivating, sweetheart,” he admits, but holds his teasing tone.

“Sure, if you find all random college girls captivating. Which, I guess if you’re a fuckboy, you might,” you say with a shrug.

He raises his eyebrows, and pulls his head back slightly at your accusation. “Don’t write yourself off so easily, y/n.” He tilts his head to the side. “Have you seen me pursue any other girls? Flirt with anyone else at all?”

You look down at your feet at his questioning. The truth was, you really hadn’t. He only ever seemed to focus on you, which you had previously found annoying, but were coming to enjoy secretly.

“I suppose not, but I’ve only known you for a few days. Who’s to say the list of girls you have isn't long?”

“Who’s to say that it is?”

You narrow your eyes and regard him carefully. You wanted to determine if he was just bullshitting you or was being genuine; his eyes were open and honest, and nothing about his body language told you he was lying.

“You’re a strange one, Kim Taehyung. Goodnight,” you say with finality while you turn around to head inside your building. You don’t know if you can deal with any more of him tonight. It feels like he turns your head upside down. You can never seem to get an accurate read on the guy.

“Sleep well, y/n.” You hear his deep voice call out as the door shuts behind you, and it sends shivers up your spine. You hated the fact that he had that power over you, but he was undeniably attractive. And the more you uncover about him, the more you feel his pull.

Just thinking about it made you realize how exhausted you were from today. Today felt insanely long, so much so that the Jimin/Yoongi fiasco felt like it happened ages ago. You could practically hear your bed calling your name, so with sleep in mind you rush to get some rest. Tomorrow, you’d deal with Taehyung in Calculus --- tomorrow.

[jobean12-blog]

Leaves of Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1,148

Summary: You and Bucky are getting ready to spend your first fall in your new house. 

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ continuation of drunk drabbles and the lovely prompt below from @buckstaybucky​ and the surprise drabble challenge Fall in Love! I love all of this! YAY! Hope you like this and thank you all for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Sweet soft fluffly love, domestic fun fluff, Bucky’s flannel, fall themes

The curtains rise high from the morning breeze, your body curled comfortably under the blanket and wrapped in Bucky’s arms. It’s quiet except for the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft singing of the birds. Calloused fingers smooth down your thigh and pull you closer, Bucky’s warm breath tickling your shoulder with his, “good morning beautiful.”

You turn to face him and snuggle closer, “mornin’ baby. You’re so warm! I don’t wanna get up!” Laughing into your hair he brushes some loose strands from your face and kisses your cheeks. “We’re in no rush. We have all day to decorate.” Your eyes pop open and your cheeks turn up in a grin. “I can’t wait!”

Shooting up you scramble to get out of the bed and, in the process, pull the covers from Bucky’s naked body. He throws a shirt at you and it lands on your head, his smell instantly surrounding you. You pull it down and hug it to your chest, “thank you baby! My favorite flannel!” Next comes a pillow but you duck just in time. “You mean MY flannel.”

Shrugging it over your shoulders you close just a few buttons and twirl around, “nope. I mean mine. All your shirts that I love become mine anyway.” With that you saunter off into the kitchen, grabbing some fuzzy socks on the way. Bucky swings his legs over the bed and grabs a pair of sweats, following right behind you.

“Want to try that pumpkin spice tea we got yesterday?” You’re already standing at the counter, taking out the ingredients for pancakes. “That sounds great baby girl, thank you.” He slides up behind you, his arms resting on either side of your body while you prepare the food. “You look really cute in my shirt you know that.”

Reaching up to grab a measuring cup you purposefully brush your ass against his crotch, “of course I do.” Moving your hair away he starts kissing down your neck, pulling his flannel off your shoulder so he can keep going, “are you making those pumpkin pancakes doll?” You shiver at his touch and nod, wiggling out from under him, “I’m trying to but you’re very distracting Barnes.”

He moves away and pushes himself up and onto the island, grinning when your eyes wander down his bare torso. “Still distracting baby,” you hum, staring at him while you mix the batter. “I’m behaving.” You raise a brow but don’t argue and finish up the pancakes.

Suddenly he jumps down and walks toward the large window above your kitchen sink. “Hey doll, quick come here.” You rush over and slip under his arm, “what??” He carefully points to the tree just outside the window and smiles. “Oh my gosh Buck! A chipmunk!!! He’s so cute! And tiny! And I love him!” Bucky’s body rumbles with laughter and you start hopping up and down, spinning in his arms and hugging his waist. “I love our new house!” He kisses the top of your head and pulls you tighter to his body, “me too doll face. Me too.”

After a delicious and very pumpkin themed breakfast you finish getting dressed and head to the garage to gather the decorations. Every time you pull one out you squeal in happiness much to Bucky’s delight. “Oh Buck, look at this one! How cute is the little owl! I love owls!” Bucky stands behind you, his cheeks pink from the cool morning air and his eyes sparkling, “you love everything!” Turning to face him you cup his cheeks, “but nothing as much as you!”

You both laugh before warming up with a kiss then gather as much as you can hold and bring it out to the front of the house. Your porch is the perfect setting for pumpkins and some hay bales as well as some cute hanging decorations. Bucky ties a large corn stalk to each of the pillars that frame the steps and you add some pretty ribbon around them, tying it into a big bow at the front.

“Wow! Looks perfect baby girl, you did amazing!” You stand in the crook of Bucky’s arm, the warmth of his body and his words covering you like a blanket against the chill. “Thank you, baby, I just love it! Now all we need is to rake the leaves to fill the pumpkin bags!” Bucky surveys the front yard, laughing when he sees how many leaves there are. “I think we have plenty,” he jokes handing you a rake.

You work in comfortable silence, every so often glancing at your surroundings and taking in the beauty of it. The trees sway gently in the breeze, their golden yellow leaves drifting slowly to the ground and adding to your growing pile. Bucky makes his way closer to you, grabbing a handful of leaves and throwing them over your head.

Several get stuck in your hair and on your shirt. “Lemme take a picture beautiful.” You smile while he snaps a few pics then continue raking the last of the leaves into a pile. Bucky puts his phone away and goes back to working on his area. Watching him you get a playful idea and carefully rest your rake against a nearby tree. You rush at him from behind and try to knock him over into the pile, but it doesn’t work. Instead it’s like hitting a brick wall and when his arms instantly shoot backwards and grab yours you know you’re in trouble.

In seconds flat you’re on your back in the pile of leaves, Bucky hovering above you and laughing victoriously. “Nice try baby girl.” You pout and take a handful of leaves, throwing them at his face, “ugh. I almost had you!” Bucky wiggles over you, “not even close.” You decide to take a different approach and lean up to kiss him, hoping it will work as a distraction.

When you feel his grip loosen and his hands start to slide under your shirt you use it to your advantage and flip him over, pushing him down and under the leaves. “HA!” You quickly get up and try to run away but he grabs your leg and picks you up in his arms. “Bucky! Put me down!” He grins, “if you say so,” then drops you into the giant pile again.

By the time you two are done jumping and playing in the leaves it looks like you never raked anything at all. “Well. That was really fun but counterproductive,” Bucky says, looking around, his hands on his hips. “So worth it!” He takes your hand and pulls you toward the house, “what do you say we have some lunch, finish this up, then try out our new outdoor hot tub.” You jump on his back, wrapping your legs around his waist and burying your face in his neck, “sounds perfect Bucky.”  

@aesthetical-bucky​ @auro-ora​ @buckstaybucky​ @bugsbucky​ @buckosawrus​ @buckys-broody-muffin​ @buckys-henley​ @breezy1415​ @buckys-minty-breath​ @book-dragon-13​ @bucky-on-my-mind​ @chuuulip​ @eurynome827​ @hiddles-rose​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @hawksmagnolia​ @ikaris-whore​ @itsunclebucky​ @imgaril-lindru​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewels2876​ @lookiamtrying​  @lorilane33​ @lokilvrr​ @loricameback​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @littleredstarfish​ @mushyjellybeans​ @addikted-2-dopamine​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @softpeachbarnes​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @tuiccim​ @the-wayward-robot​ @yansi1923​ @hopefuldreamers-world​ @tales-of-spring​ @survivor-reborn​

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

This Christmas - A Harry Styles Christmas Series (Part 6)

Two life long friends. Secretly in love. Home for the holidays. Will they risk everything by telling the other how they feel? Or will they spend another year loving from afar? 

Read these first    Prologue  Part 1    Part 2   Part 3    Part 4   Part 5

**

By the time you were back at your Mum’s house after a day of shopping, you were exhausted. Apparently your mother waited to do all her Christmas shopping in one day and have you hold it all. Your arms were so full of bags and boxes for all your mother’s book club friends, you had zero room to look and purchase any of the presents you had planned on buying on your little outing.

“Is there a reason you bought literally every bottle of wine today?” You groaned, placing yet another bag on the counter.

“We’re doing a wine exchange this year,” she said.

“How many bottles of wine are you exchanging with one person?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Why do you ask so many questions?” She scoffed.

“I’m a writer. It’s what I do,” you smirked. “Also, this book club of yours how much time is spent on discussing the actual book vs the amount of time spent drinking wine.”

“Eh… 60/40,” she said, moving her hand back and forth.

“More like 40/60,” you laughed, just as the doorbell rang.

“Oh! They’re here,” she said. “Y/N get the door.”

“Who is here?” You said, heading towards the door.

As soon as you opened it up, you saw Anne and Harry standing on the front porch.

“Oh, uh, hey,” you smiled. “What are you two doing here?”

“I’m here for the book club,” Anne smirked. “Harry’s here to be the designated driver.”

“Yay me,” Harry waved his hands in the air.

“That’s tonight?” you asked.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Your mother shouted from the kitchen. “Stop being rude and let them in already!”

“Right, sorry,” you winced, moving out the way.

Anne walked right past you, while you and Harry stood there in the foyer.

“So… um, I should probably help my Mum set up,” you said. “But after we could head up to my room and talk…”

“Sounds good,” he smiled. “And I can help, set up too.”

“Good because you don’t have a choice,” you smirked, pulling him into the kitchen.

**

About an hour later, the book club was well underway and you and Harry were still making sandwiches and putting cheese and crackers onto a plate.

“Why do I feel like we’re only being used as free labor?” Harry joked.

“Because we are,” you laughed. “I think it has something to do with the whole they were in labor with us, so now we must labor for them.”

“I guess it’s the least we could do, right?” He laughed.

You giggled picking up the plates and taking them out. No one was paying any attention to you and Harry, so you decided to sneak up to your old bedroom and finally have the conversation you were dreading to have. When you got up there, Harry walked around a bit, remembering the last time he was there.

“I see you still have the Jonas Brothers poster,” he raised an eyebrow.

“That’s never coming down,” you scoffed. “You should know that. In fact, I would take it with me to my flat in London, but I have a new one I got last year on their tour.”

“I don’t know if I should be jealous or offended by that,” he laughed.

“Why would you be either of those?” you laughed.

“Because I don’t see any One Direction posters here and unless you have a poster of me at your flat…” he said.

“Yeah, sorry, I don’t,” you smirked. “You’re just not as cute.”

“Ouch!” He said, putting his hand over his heart. “I am now officially both emotions. You do realize they’re all married, right? Two of which have children, so unless you plan on being a homewrecker…”

“Well, I mean… if the opportunity arises…,” you joked.

“Wow,” he gasped. “I know what I’m getting you for Christmas. A big ass poster of me to cover your entire wall. One for here, one for your flat, and one to take with you when you travel.”

“Okay, that’s a little much,” you giggled.

“No, I don’t think so,” he laughed.

You shook your head with a laugh as you sat down on your bed, “So, what did you do today before you got dragged here?”

“Oh, nothing much, just spent some time with Mum,” he shrugged. “After she caught me sneaking back into the house this morning.”

“Smooth,” you laughed.

“What? I told you she got up early, but you wouldn’t let me get out before the sun was up,” he defended.

“Actually, you were the one to refuse to get out of bed,” you said.

“I was cold,” he shrugged. “And I didn’t feel like making the trek back to the house.”

“It’s like an extra twenty steps away,” you said.

“Anyway,” he said sitting down in your desk chair and spinning around a few days. “We have a conversation to discuss.”

“That we do,” you nodded. “Who should go first?”

“Weeellllll, since I’m the one who kinda just blurted out ‘I Love You’... why don’t you take this one next?” He suggested. “I mean it’s only fair.”

“I guess,” you sighed, dramatically laying down on the bed. “Before we discuss the next step… I need to get something off my chest. I don’t want you to take any of this the wrong way or anything…”

“Y/N, you’re rambling,” he said. “But I’ll try my best not to get upset or whatever.”

You sighed again, kicking your feet up to push yourself back up to sit on your bed.

“When you told me you loved me last night… I’ve wanted to hear those words for so long. Honestly, I think I probably would have wanted to hear those words back when we were like fourteen or something. And now that you’ve finally said them, It was like the best moment ever,” you smiled.

“Why do I sense a but coming?” He sighed.

“Because there is,” you sighed. “Even though I’ve been waiting to hear those three words and finally got them, I can’t just jump into a relationship with you because….”

“Because why?” He asked.

“We’re not the same people we were the last time we spoke, Harry,” you sighed. “We’ve gone years without even speaking a word to one another. What if we’re not the same people we fell in love with…”

“So, then you don’t love me?” He asked, confusion and hurt evident on his face.

“No, I’m not saying that,” you answered quickly. “I just… I think we need to go about this slowly because I’d rather take our time, get to know each other again, than to just jump right in and find out we’re not… you know.”

Harry hesitated for a minute before nodding, “I agree. I want to get to know you again. I want us to be closer again… and I want us to be together, but I’ll go as slow as we need to.”

You nodded, “There’s also… another thing we need to discuss.”

“Okay?” He asked.

“The whole long distance thing,” you whispered. “I know you live in London now, but eventually you’re going to go away for work or I’m going to go away for work. How do we know things won’t end like last time?”

“Because I won’t let that happen,” he said, taking your hand. “I fucked up. I know that, but I’d never do that again. I can’t… I won’t lose you again.”

“You really hurt me,” you whispered. “And it wasn’t just because you didn’t call or text, but because you were willingly spending and making time for all these other people… yet I never got that. Why? Why wasn’t I good enough back then? How do I know I’ll be good enough for you now?”

“I told you,” he said. “It was never because of you. It was me… me thinking I had to live a certain way.”

“Don’t you get it,” you said. “By you saying that, it obviously means that I didn’t fit into that way of life, Harry. I get it. I’m not some super famous and rich celebrity… I mean yeah, I’m not hurting for money, but I’m not a fucking millionaire either. I don’t own a house or have a super fancy car. I own a few designer things, but most of my clothes come from thrift shops or random shops in the city. I don’t look like someone who belongs on the cover of a magazine or in a movie or whatever. I’m just… me.”

“And that’s why I fucking love you, Y/N,” he whispered, looking into your eyes. “Do you honestly think I care about what material things you have or don’t have? Do you really think I’m that fucking shallow? I love you because you’re Y/N. My Y/N. I know we’ve changed, but everything I’ve always loved about you is still there because it’s what makes you , you.”

“I just don’t want to be the reason we don’t work out,” you whispered. “Because I’m not-”

“Hey,” he whispered. “If anyone should be worried, it’s me. I fucked our friendship, remember? I’m the one who will be leaving on tour, while you have a life here. You could easily forget about me.”

“I’ve never forgotten about you,” you told him.

“We can make this work,” he said, putting his hands on your cheeks. “We just have to let it.”

**

It was the next morning and you were typing away at your computer. You were making great progress and if everything went as planned, you would be finished with the manuscript by Christmas. You were finishing up your cup of coffee, when there was a tapping on the door.

“It’s open,” you said.

As soon as you got the words out, the door opened and Harry walked inside.

“Morning,” he smiled walking over and jumping on your bed.

You laughed, “Morning. What brings you by this early in the morning?”

“Nothing, just thought I’d see how you’re doing. Check in on your writing,” he said, looking around.

“Riiight,” you said. “I’d love to believe that, but you’re a terrible liar.”

He rolled his eyes, “I’m not lying.”

“Sure,” you said. “Whatever you say. I have about another half hour or so of writing before I’m finished with this chapter.”

“Okay, then I’ll just chill out here until you’re done,” he said.

“You’re up to something,” you said.

“Am not,” he said.

“Fine, deny it all you want, but I’ll figure it out,” you said, turning around to face your computer.

You looked back over your notes before getting back into the writing zone. After about five minutes, you felt someone staring at you. You glanced back behind you and sure enough Harry was staring at you.

“Can I help you?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, what? No, I’m good,” he said.

“Then why are you staring at me?” You laughed.

“Because you look really hot when you’re writing,” he smirked.

“You’re here to makeout, aren’t you?” you said.

“Well, since you offered,” he smirked, pulling you over to the bed and on top of him.

“I have a chapter to finish,” you laughed.

“So, you can finish it after a little break,” he said.

“I like the way you think,” you giggled, pressing your lips against his.

The previous night you two had really talked over what you were feeling and what you wanted. Both of you wanted to be together, that much was obvious, but you two knew things wouldn’t be that simple. But despite all your worries and your fears, you were willing to try and you couldn’t think of a better time to do it than back at home where it all started during Christmas time.

And you couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

**

So sorry about the super late post, but I got busy and lost track of time! 

Look out for Part 7 tomorrow! 

[yourneighborhooddisaster]

kings of unconventional (part three) ROMAN

Again! Late as fuck! I’m sorry, I had no motivation for what felt like forever. Hey, listen to Experience by Ludovico Einaudi while you’re writing btw. Also the thing abt me getting an AO3 account? The stupid blocker on my computer that I can’t figure out how to turn off deemed the website unworthy, and frankly I don’t have the energy.

Warnings: Kissing I suppose? I consider it a blessing but whatever. It’s kind of just a fluffy meet cute.

Tagging: @emiisanxious @genderfluidmoma @my-life-is-an-artistic-mess @penguins-penguins @jinxedrose101 Imma cross my fingers and hope I tagged everyone.

Still short, but it’s a tiny bit longer this time! Yay! Fic under the cut.

ROMAN inhaled the familiar scent of orange aerosol as he checked into the bookshop as a volunteer. Though he wasn’t a big reader, he came in on Thursdays to help supervise the meetings of Inqueery, a new book club that was quickly gaining speed due to its focus on LGBT+ content from all different types of genres. It was designed to help curious or queer youth label themselves if they preferred and to introduce people to media put out by the LGBT+ community.

Roman knew he was polyamorous and gay already, and he was very comfortable with his sexuality. Although, it helped a bit when your destiny was written across your arm. Many people came into these meetings simply to meet people and make sense of their soulmark. It was especially hard for kids with gender neutral names like ‘Alex’ or ‘Riley.’ But since it was technically still a book club, Roman came here to help guide the curious and confused so readers could discuss their books in peace. Mr. Sanders used to do it, but as he got older, he split his time between resting and keeping his business afloat.

He got a head start on changing the displays as he waited for Joan, an official hire. What Roman liked about Mr. Sanders’s Books is that every other day, the displays rotated, so lesser known authors and books got their chance in the spotlight. Even if it was some extra work. He had just finished with all of the display shelves when someone tapped him on the arm, prompting him to turn around.

“Well hello there, cutie.” In front of him, a curly haired young man with square glasses smiled brightly. He proudly sported a rainbow pin, a he/him pin, and a poly pride pin, all attached to his gray cardigan that fell loosely around his shoulders. He beamed at the compliment. (And blushed a little. Roman considered that a win.)

“Hi! I was wondering if you knew where the sign up sheet for Inqueery was? I can’t seem to find it. I’m new in town, so I was hoping I could make friends.” Well wasn’t he precious. Roman felt his heart melting into a puddle of goo.

“Of course! It’s actually behind the counter, which is why you couldn’t find it. There’s a bit of a waiting list simply due to funding. Unless you can buy your own book, in which case you can join as soon as they start a new one.” Roman grabbed the clipboard and a blue marker from under the counter. “Here you go sir! Oh, hey Joan! I finished the displays, so I’ll be out of your hair in a bit.” Their fond smile made Roman grin as they passed him to go to the back. “So yeah, just sign right here.”

“Thanks! I can buy my own book, which means that I check off this box here, right?” Roman nodded and watched as Patton signed his-

Patton.

“I’m Roman and I really want to kiss you right now,” he blurted like an absolute idiot. But Patton looked up, nearly in awe. They pulled their sleeves up simultaneously, and true enough, Patton’s name was in simple blue half cursive, nearly identical to his signature on the sign up sheet. Roman’s name was in big red letters on Patton’s arm, fancy swirls underlining it. But directly underneath, ‘Logan’ was written in scribbly dark blue handwriting, just barely decipherable. Both ‘Virgil’ and ‘Janus’ were still in neat black print. “You met him? What’s he like?” Patton giggled.

“He kind of ran away from me in a moment of gay panic. But he complimented me first, and he seemed really sweet.” Roman’s face must have fallen slightly because Patton leaned over the counter and booped his nose, making him snort with laughter. “We’ll find him again, don’t you worry. We’re meant to be together.” Roman leaned over the counter as well, getting much farther forward than Patton had.

“It’s destiny.” Patton’s eyes widened and his face reddened, but he captured Roman’s lips in a soft, sweet kiss. They both closed their eyes and melted, Roman bringing his hand up to caress Patton’s cheek. No fireworks went off, but it was like burying your face in a ton of cotton candy at the fair - sugary and exhilarating. His mind traveled to the fair as they deepened the kiss. God, that’d be a beautiful date. He imagined the food, the ferris wheel, the bumper cars - but the loud crash that sounded wasn’t in his head. Roman broke away from the kiss and saw an absolutely mortified young man desperately picking up way too many books for one person to carry.

“Oh, are you okay?” Roman had officially decided Patton was perfect as he rushed to the young man’s side. Roman quickly followed, putting stacks of books on the counter. He offered out his hand, and the guy shakily accepted it.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, just a little shaken-” His eyes dropped to Roman’s arm and his jaw went slack. Roman and Patton followed his gaze. In purple, relatively neat print. Virgil. “Up.” Virgil scrambled to his feet. “So you’re...“ He pulled up his sleeve. “Roman and Patton?”

“Two of your soulmates at your service. Roman Regio. Lovely… lovely to meet you, Virgil.” The words almost died in his throat as his breath was taken away by the man. Virgil was tall. And Roman was taller than average, but wow. Oh god that was hot. Why was that hot? He inhaled sharply. Man, he really wanted to kiss him right now.

“I have such handsome soulmates!” Patton exclaimed. Roman felt his face warm, but Virgil went full on red. “I know we just met, but I feel so close to you two already. We should get ice cream! And then we can learn all about each other and we can-”

“Slow down sweetheart, I think we’re overwhelming our poor Virgil.” Virgil seemed as if he was gonna fall over again, though he had his hand on the wall to steady himself. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m… I’m great. I’m so, so… great.” Virgil glanced between them and smiled like he was close to shouting that this was the best day of his life. It certainly was the best of Roman’s. “I- uh, wow.” Roman looked over at Patton, who, even though he had known him for all of five minutes, looked at him like he could read his mind. Patton nodded excitedly, so Roman stepped slightly closer.

“May I kiss you?” Virgil stumbled then, and Roman’s arm shot out to steady him, and as Virgil looked over at Patton, who was still smiling, (thank goodness Roman hadn’t misinterpreted his expression) Roman stood on his toes and gripped Virgil’s patchy jacket. Virgil glanced back with longing in his eyes. “May-”

“Oh God yes.” Roman didn’t need to hear another thing. He yanked Virgil down and there. There were the fucking fireworks. Kissing him wasn’t better or worse than kissing Patton, it was just different. So different. He was nearly unable to stop himself from shoving his tongue in Virgil’s mouth right away, but Virgil opened his mouth hungrily for him anyway. This was an explosion, all the blood rushing in his head told him that. But they didn’t need an explosion quite yet. Ice cream sounded nice. So Roman pulled away, smiling as Virgil tried to follow him with his lips. “I-” Roman stepped back, and Virgil flushed hotly in embarrassment, but he then nodded to Patton, who beamed.

“May I?” Virgil nodded, looking dumbfounded and completely overwhelmed, but in a good way. Patton giggled as he got closer, his hands slipping up to clasp around Virgil’s neck. Roman sighed as their lips connected, knowing that Patton was leading the chaste, soft kiss and knowing exactly how it felt. He grinned and nearly laughed as the tips of Virgil’s ears went red, but when they separated, his grin only widened at the smile on Virgil’s face. Patton’s kisses were so sweet, they were enough to distract Virgil from anything else.

“So my darlings, I think that ice cream sounds great. How about you?”

[holy-hyuck]

Hocus Pocus, Please Focus!

Trying to make a sleeping potion for your parents so you and your best friend can sneak out to a senior party is only ever good in theory; especially since Lee Felix really sucks at being a wizard.

Pairing: Wizard!Lee Felix x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Genre: Comedy, Platonic relationship

Warnings: A dead rat?

happy halloween y’all!!!

“Is that a dead rat?” Felix questions just as you enter his parents’ office. He picks up the rodent by its tail, inspecting the bloody ball of fur, and you nearly gag as he dangles it in front of your face.

“Don’t look at me like that! It’s that bloody book of yours that called for it,” you tell him as he puts it back in the box you brought it to him in. “Why do we need it anyway?”

The freckled boy wipes his hands on a rag. “Because-” he picks up the small book, bound in scarlet-red leather, “-it’s in the recipe for a sleeping potion. For our parents. Well, more specifically mine, but you get the point.”

He drops the book back on the table and returns to mixing the liquid inside a small, store-bought cauldron. He said a pot would do but Felix’s just extra like that.

“Have you ever considered, I don’t know...asking them to let us go to this Halloween party?”

Felix shrieks in laughter as an answer, causing you to roll your eyes. “Yeah, and then I’ll ask them for a million dollars.”

“Don’t be silly.” You plop down on a chair. “They’re more likely to give you the money.”

Your eyes lock and you smile at each other. You roll on the office chair towards the table, grabbing the leather book and opening it. A faint smell of roses hits your nostrils, and you trace the pressed flowers with the pads of your fingers. They’re imprinted onto the pages and the covers, and you feel delighted every time Felix lets you even touch that book. He doesn’t trust you any more than he trusts himself, and he’s a shit wizard, so that’s saying enough.

Hearing a plop, you look up to the grimace on Felix’s face.

“The rat?”

“The rat indeed.” He takes the book out of your hands despite the frown it causes on your face. “Eighteen drops of coffee, locust twigs and weeping leaves, lemon juice, hydrochloric acid, and a dead rat.” He sighs. “Well, if they don’t fall asleep after this, they’ll probably drop dead.”

“And we’ll get to go to Brooke’s party! Yay!” you exclaim, urging your best friend to finish the sleeping potion. Only two more hours until the party starts, and you still needed to iron your outfit.

You watch Felix chant, eyes flicking back and forth between the bubbling liquid and the book in his trembling hand. A large bubble pops, creating a vile sound and smell, and despite Felix’s chanting, the bubbling stops.

“Great, it’ll fart them to death at this point.” You turn and grab a newspaper, sending it flying at your friend’s hand. You miss, and it falls into the cauldron.

“Look what you’ve done,” Felix cries and fishes it out but there’s only half of the paper there; the ridges are burnt off, black liquid dripping off of them. “On the contrary...”

“Hocus pocus, Felix, focus!”

Felix groans at your words as you shoot him a stupid grin, ushering him to continue. As much fun as you're having - and, let's be honest, it's not every day you get to witness Felix's failed attempts at magic - the clock is ticking, and the last time your friend's parents found him doing magic without supervision, his voice sounded like Mickey Mouse for a week straight. Yes, you do have evidence. And yes, you are planning on using it as blackmail.

"Okay, done," Felix alerts you after about five more minutes, closing the book and setting it down, then adding, "I think."

You sigh. "So much thinking from you today, Felix, I'm proud."

He smacks you on the head with the half-burnt newspaper as both of you gather around the table, inspecting the liquid swimming inside the cauldron. Felix takes a long wooden spoon - the one you used last night to stir mac and cheese - and moves the liquid around. It comes out thick in consistency, like syrup, except it's dark green and when you look at it in the artificial light, you see specks of glitter.

The boy brings it up to his lips and you look at him, incredulous.

"What if it works and you fall asleep?"

“What do you mean 'what if'? You really have that little faith in me?" The look you give Felix answers his question. "Besides, they need a bigger dose for it to work on them, don't worry."

He offers you some and you reluctantly lick some liquid off the spoon. It tastes tangy, like when you add too much salt to your tomato salad and the taste is so overwhelming it leaves you swimming and drowning in sodium. Well, at least it doesn't taste like a dead rat...not that you know what that tastes like.

"Okay, you get this ready and I will get myself ready. Expect me here in an hour. Don't screw things up." And with your words of encouragement, you leave Felix to do his thing.

The good thing about the large glass embedded into Felix’s front doors is that you can check yourself out whilst waiting for the boy to haul his ass downstairs, admiring the black-and-gold short robe reaching your mid-thighs, with a giant hood and some old, lace-up boots with the crispy remains of mud still atop.

The bad thing about the large glass embedded into Felix’s front doors is that when you lean forward to check you have nothing between your teeth and start using your fingers as a toothpick when you notice doughnut remains wedged between the two top incisors, is the exact time Felix decides to open the door to his house, leaving you looking like a freak of nature by choice.

“Gross,” he comments but locks the doors behind him promptly and changes the subject. “They’re out cold. These potions work for up to six hours but-”

“-with your magic?” you interrupt.

“-I wouldn’t count on it,” he finishes up, giving you a death glare.

Just before you enter your car, you clock the blue, black, and white tunic over the thinnest leggings you’ve ever seen draped over Felix’s body and you shiver at the thinness of the material. Isn’t he cold?

“Is that your actual hat?” you question after you start your car and make your way to Brooke’s summer house, and Felix adjusts the pointy hat on his head.

“Yep, and look at this-”

“I can’t look, I’m in a- Is that your ring? Your actual magic ring? Lix, your parents are gonna cut off your fingers and feed them to squirrels if they find out you’ve taken it outside without their supervision. I mean, you’ve already been doing magic without them knowing, and used a sleeping potion on them, and- and-”

You hear Felix snort.

“Relax. They’re sleeping, and we get to sneak out. That’s all that matters. Besides, I got you something too.”

Finally parking your car in front of a medium-sized house, you get out and rush to your friend’s side. “What’s that?”

“It’s a magic mirror. It’s connected to every mirror in my house, so we’ll see if my parents wake up, so then we can change our names and flee the country. I want you to keep hold of it.” He pushes the small mirror into your hand and you pocket it inside the rather humongous pockets of your robe.

You thought it’d be ironic if you dressed up as a witch because...well...you know. Felix is a wizard? No? But then Felix decided to do the same and you already know you’re never gonna hear the end of the comments from your classmates.

Well, here comes what you’ve been waiting for.

About an hour into the party you’re already tipsy but you expected nothing less going into this. Felix is nowhere to be found, although to be fair, it’s not like you bothered looking for him. He’s probably with Seungmin, Jisung and Hyunjin - his other friends from a book club he promises isn’t as nerdy as it sounds - and up to no good, as always. The last time you left them unsupervised because you couldn’t stand being around Jisung for any longer than necessary, Seungmin’s hair was neon green, and Hyunjin had a bald patch at the back of his head. It was fun being a witness of their stupidity instead of a victim for once.

You walk outside to enjoy the fresh air, into a grand garden decorated with white fairy lights. It’s so beautiful you actually let out a gasp as you admire the work put into it until the sight of the pool makes you sober up on the spot. The pool is small and at first, you think the water’s just unfiltered, giving it its green hue.

But then you feel it; the sticky substance beneath your feet as it makes the most obnoxious sound you’ve ever heard when you lift up your foot. The dark goo travels across the tiles and the grass only to end up in the pool, staining the water green.

It looks...stupidly like what you and your best friend have given your parents - and at that realisation, your eyes widen and you scurry back inside to find Felix.

“Lix, there you are,” you say after good ten minutes of searching, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

He turns to you with the smuggest grin plastered on his face as he hands you a drink.

“I’ve heard this new energy drink kicks ass. Try it.” He ushers you to take a sip and you do, alongside him. It does taste nice, almost like pink lemonade, and you find yourself drinking the whole cup before you know it.

“Where did you get it from?”

“Oh, someone gave it to me.” You slap his arms, causing him to yelp. “What on earth was that for?!”

“Felix! What idiot accepts drinks from a stranger?”

“The one that wants to have-” he stops himself, getting dangerously close to your face, so much you can clearly see his freckles, “-fun. Ever heard of that?”

You push him away with a shove to his stomach, eliciting a laugh. “Whenever you have fun, someone ends up paying the price, Felix.”

You look over to him and brush away some orange hairs from his cheek, only to find them stuck to his skin. You shrug it off.

“Oh, I remember now!”

Without another word, you drag him into the garden, and he spills a bit of his drink in the process.

“What am I looking at exactly?” he questions when you finally stop, motioning to the pool, which brandishes clear water much to your surprise.

"What the..."

You both jump up at the loud thud behind you and whip around to see a body dumped on the ground. You feel like throwing up, clutching Felix's hand, which is...hairy?

Looking down, you notice more of those ginger hairs growing on the back of his hand and you jerk your own hand away.

"How does that feel?"

You hear a female voice alongside a deep laugh and slow clapping. From the shadows of the trees surrounding the garden, Felix's parents emerge, and suddenly you feel yourself sinking into the ground, knowing it won't be long before you join your friend on the floor behind you.

"Mum!" Felix yelps. "Dad! What are you doing here?"

"Well you see, your dad and I were planning to have a movie night but it seems like we took a little nap. Must be something to do with that wretched slime you slipped in our drinks."

"There was a bit of a branch in there, have you noticed, love?" his father interjects, pulling out a familiar book from behind his back. "Eighteen drops of coffee, locust wings and weeping leaves, lemon juice, hydro-"

"W-wings?" Felix stutters out and you observe him for a second before the realisation seeps in.

"Fucking wings," you mutter under your breath so his parents don't hear.

"Yes, I do believe the spell calls for locust wings, but you always were bad at grammar son." His dad smiles. "So anyway, after we woke up, we saw the house number through that magic mirror I believe you gave your friend."

"Um, (y/n)." Felix traces his finger down your cheek with wide eyes, and you do the same, the feeling of roughness underneath your fingertips.

Taking out your phone, you look at the dark reflection on the screen and gasp in horror. The green and yellow scales reach all the way up to your eye, which begins turning a fiery orange colour. You blink your slit pupils and drop your phone in shock.

"I hope you enjoyed your drinks tonight, by the way. We added something special. You'll find out in the next hour anyway. Or, well, sort of."

The adults laugh, and you look to Felix's arm, now covered with thick orange fur.

"That should serve both of you a reminder not to perform magic unsupervised. Because you, Lee Felix, aren't very good at it." His mother comes up to him and pats his hairy cheek. "At least you'll make a cute weasel."

[damianwaynerocks]

Zuko & the Waynes - Chapter 3

Batfam/ATLA au

Description:  Prince Zuko, pre-finding Aang, falls into Gotham City. After being adopted by Bruce Wayne, Zuko finds himself enjoying life in this strange world. Zuko Wayne has a family who loves him unconditionally. Zuko Wayne is a hero, saving the innocents of Gotham City every night. But Zuko soon finds himself at the center of a plot that threatens to destroy not only this new world he's come to love, but also the world he's trying to leave behind.

A/N: okay, so the members of the titans and young justice team are different in this au.

Young Justice: Tim Drake (Red Robin); Cassie Sandsmark (Wondergirl); Kon/Conner Kent (Superboy); Bart Allen (Impulse)

Titans: Dick Grayson (Nightwing); Koriand'r (Starfire); Garfield Logan (Beast Boy); Rachel Roth (Raven); Jaime Reyes (Blue Beetle); M'Gann M'orris (Miss Martian)

Chapter 2 | Masterlist

Chapter 3:

"So, you remember the plan?"

"Yeah, we got it," said Cassie into her earpiece, having to raise her voice to be heard over the pouring rain outside. "Don't worry about us, we're fine."

"Good to know," Tim responded into the comlink.

It was the night of the auction. Zuko was wearing a black suit while Cassie was wearing a red dress. Both had their masks on. Kon, also known as Superboy, was sitting in the driver's seat. He was acting as their chauffeur, and was there as backup in case anything went wrong. Zuko rolled his eyes as he heard a slurping sound in his com link, presumably from Tim taking a sip of coffee.

 "That was gross," Kon sighed. "Don't do that." 

Tim ignored him. "Proud of you both. Remember, if the wrong person gets their hands on the magyntite, not even Superman will be able to stop them." He paused. "No pressure, though.”

"Wow, you're great at pep talks." Zuko adjusted the mask on his face, making sure it hid his scar. "You ready, Cassie?"

"I was born ready," Cassie responded with a grin. "Now, let's go, Henry."

"After you, Larissa." Zuko grabbed an umbrella and stepped out of the  self-driving black limousine they'd borrowed from Bruce. He went around to her side of the vehicle and opened her door for her. Cassie looped her arm through his, muttering a thank you as Zuko raised the umbrella above both of them. They walked into the casino.

 Just inside, a bouncer stepped in front of them. "How tall is the eagle's wingspan?"

"That means do magic," Tim said through the coms.

 "Uh," Zuko's mind raced as he tried to think of a spell on the spot. "Fire Dragon Iron Fist!" he finally said, and a ball of fire appeared over his closed fist. The bouncer nodded, and unhooked the red rope, allowing them to step inside.It was bright and loud and flashy, and Zuko had to stop for a moment to get his bearings.

 "You good?" Cassie whispered, placing a hand on his chest to steady him. "It's okay. Let's just go downstairs, follow me." She gently led him towards the back of this casino. Tim had told them that there was a staircase behind the bathrooms, and the basement was where the auction was taking place.They walked past the doors that said 'men' and 'woman' and opened the third door, revealing stairs going down to a concrete basement. "You okay now?" Cassie asked as they began to descend. 

 "Yeah," Zuko grunted. "I'm fine." They walked down a dark and damp hallway, a stark contrast to the bright lights and clean floors of the upper floor. The reached a huge room with a wrap around balcony overlooking the bottom floor. Many people, all wearing masks, were crowded together. 

"It's about to start, Mr. Henry," Cassie said. "Let's go sign in." The pair walked through the people until they reached the stairs leading to the bottom floor. Arms still linked, they walked down the stairs. 

"There's a ton of people here," Zuko mused. "I wonder what they all want to buy." 

Cassie shrugged. "Drugs. Artifacts. Who knows." 

They made their way to the middle of the throng of people and sat down in two of the chairs. The auction started soon after, and the words the auctioneer was saying sounded like white noise to Zuko. Finally, twenty minutes in, Tim's voice in his ear made Zuko flinch. "Magyntite is next," he said. "Be ready."

Sure enough, the man held up a silver briefcase. "Magyntite!" he yelled. "This drug is like Kobra Venom! Bulk up your muscles, lady and gentlemen. Do I hear... two million?" Zuko raised his hand and the same time another man did. The man glared at Zuko, who did the same.Back and forth this happened, Zuko and this man trying to get the magyntite. In the end, though, Zuko and Cassie got it for $45,000,000.

 "Holy crap," Cassie breathed as they walked back up the stairs. "That man wanted to kill you." 

Zuko hummed. "He isn't the only one." 

Cassie gave him an amused look."Is that so, Sir Henry?"

"Indeed it is, Lady Larissa."

Golden eyes gazed into blue for a second, both having small smiles on their faces.

  "Yo, you guys get it?"

"Uh, yeah," Cassie replied, breaking eye contact. "Yeah, we're heading back now." 

Zuko's face reddened. He hadn't felt any feeling similar to that since Mai, when he was thirteen. He shook his head to clear it. Don't be stupid, he told himself. Don't even go there. No chance of that happening.

"You good?" Cassie asked, raising an eyebrow under her mask. Zuko cleared his throat and nodded a little too quickly.

"Me? I'm great. Splendid. Never been better!" he babbled. "Oh Agni, I bet Kon is going crazy! Uh, let's go see him!" He linked his arm with Cassie's and half-led half-drug her through the club and out the door.

"And the lovely couple returns!" Kon cheered as Zuko opened the door for Cassie. "I missed you! Tim told me I couldn't listen to my podcast because I had to stay alert so I've been bored out of my mind."

"Oh, poor baby!" Cassie mocked. "Do you need a massage and a nice cup of tea?"

"I do, actually."

"Too bad, Superbrat."

 Zuko looked out the window. He missed his uncle's tea.

 Only 11 more months. 

___

The next morning, Zuko, Duke and Damian were at the table eating breakfast. Zuko was about to put a piece of bacon in his mouth when he felt eyes on him. Looking up, he frowned as he met Duke's eyes. "What?

Duke's eyebrows were furrowed in disbelief. "Dude, it's 7:00 in the morning. Why are you already dressed?" 

Zuko blinked. While the others were in their pajamas- Duke in an old t-shirt and shorts and Damian in his silk robe -Zuko was in jeans and a Ralph Lauren button-up, his hair in a topknot. He would've put shoes on, if it weren't for Alfred's no-shoes-in-the-house rule. "I'm used to getting up at dawn and getting ready. It's what I've done for three years."

Duke shook his head. "You're making me feel like a slob, Zu."

 "You will not feel that way for long," Damian spoke up. "For I hear Drake coming down the stairs." 

Sure enough, Tim walked around the corner, staggering to the table. He was in an over sized black Superman shirt and his boxers with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His long hair was a mess, and the circles under his eyes made it look as though he had been punched in the face.  Alfred pulled out a chair beside Zuko, a cup of coffee already in his hand. Tim stumbled towards the chair, looking as though he was about to pass out. He sat down in the chair slowly, and Alfred immediately put the cup of coffee in front of him. Tim blinked slowly, before picking up the coffee and bringing it to his lips. 

"Well," Duke chuckled. "I no longer feel like a slob." 

Damian wrinkled his nose, scoffing at Tim. "You are a disgrace, Drake. Have some self respect." Tim stared at him owl-eyed in response.

 "Just give him like ten minutes," Duke said. "Anyways! So I heard you went on a mission last ni-"

"Master Duke!" Alfred interrupted him sharply. "Might I remind you the rules of breakfast?" 

Duke seemed to shrink into himself as he answered in a small voice, "No vigilante talk at the breakfast table." Alfred nodded in approval before going back into the kitchen. Duke turned back to Zuko. "Later."

Zuko hummed in response. 

--

As soon as breakfast was over, Duke ran to Zuko excitedly. "So!? How'd it go?"

"It went fine," Zuko replied. "I mean, we went in, got the stuff and got back in the car."

"That's it? No fights?"

"No fights."

"What about Cassie? Any emotions?" 

Zuko coughed, his eyes widening. "What!? No! Don't be stupid!"

Duke laughed. "Dude, you're gonna have to get better at lying if you want to join the business."

"Which could start right now, if you want." Zuko and Duke whirled around to see Bruce holding a cup of coffee. "You've been here for a month. You can fight and you're smart. You're welcome to start training today, if you want."

Zuko's jaw dropped. "Uh, yeah! That'd be great!" 

Bruce smiled."Fantastic. Go get changed into something comfortable and we'll start."

Zuko practically sprinted to his room, but before he could change, his phone chimed.

Cassie Sandsmark: good morning doofus

.Zuko grinned in spite of himself.

Zuko Wayne: good morning!

Cassie Sandsmark: how'd you sleep?

Zuko Wayne: great but i don't know if tim slept at all he's barely alive right now

Cassie Sandsmark: sounds like tim

Cassie Sandsmark: so when u joining the hero business

Zuko Wayne: right now,, I'm about to start training

Cassie Sandsmark: YAY TELL ME HOW IT GOES

Zuko Wayne: of course

__

Training, Zuko decided, was difficult. It'd been a month since he'd started, and while he was improving, he was sore and sick of computers. 

"If I have to break another one of Tim's codes, I'll kill myself," he groaned, flopping on to the couch beside Damian, who nodded. 

"Every time Drake speaks, I want to kill myself." Zuko eyed him wearily.

"That's harsh."

"Such is reality." Damian flipped to the next page of the book he was reading. "So, your first patrol is tomorrow?" 

Zuko grinned."Yeah. I'm so excited." He sat up, cracking his knuckles. "Gonna be a blast."

"Are you finally adequate at lying?" 

Zuko winced. "It took me a while but yeah, I got it."

 "Good. We cannot have you exposing our secret." He looked up from his book. "Christmas is next month. Pennyworth instructed me to inform you that he needs a list of what you wish."

Zuko groaned. "I have no idea what I want."

"Well, figure it out," Damian replied. "Because if you do not, I'll have to listen to the complaining."

__

It was the night of his first patrol. Zuko turned to the mirror. His suit was a black kevlar lined jumpsuit with an obsidian utility belt and combat boots of the same color. There was a blue bat symbol across the chest, and a demon-type stage mask of the same color on his face. He looked at the blue gauntlet on his wrist and flexed his arm.

Dick whistled lowly. "Lookin' sharp, Zu."

Zuko grunted in response, but he couldn't stop the corners of his lips from twitching upwards.

"Good to see you suited up," Bruce said as he saw his son. He turned to the Bat Computer and typed something in. "Alright. Nightwing and Robin, you take the east side. Red Hood and Black Bat, you take the west. Red Robin, you take south. Blue Spirit and I will take north."

"You got it, boss man," said Jason with a mock salute. At that, the vigilantes headed out.

"Remember," Bruce began as he and Zuko got into the Batmobile. "Code names in the field." Zuko nodded.

"I won't forget, Batman."

"Good to hear, Blue Spirit." 

After a few minutes if driving, Oracle spoke. "Croc is robbing a store on the corner of North and Order," she said. "Blue Spirit and Batman are closest."

"We're on it," Bruce said, and sped up. 

They reached the corner in five minutes, and jumped out of the car. "Croc!" Bruce yelled.

A huge reptilian humanoid turned toward the voice, and smiled. "Batman!" he chirped. "And who's this?"

"Blue Spirit," Zuko said stiffly. 

Killer Croc chuckled."New kid to destroy? I love that." 

Croc rushed him, snapping his jaws viciously. Zuko jumped into the air, doing a flip over the creature. Fire blasted out of his elbow and he punched Croc in the snout as he turned. 

Croc stumbled back. "Igniting your elbow to increase the force of your punch? Smart. Not smart enough." He ran towards Zuko again, claws outstretched, moving at inhuman speeds. Zuko ducked under his claws and gave an uppercut with the same advantage into his stomach. Croc was thrown into the air by the force. Before he could land, Zuko sent a blast of fire at him, engulfing him in flames. Croc screamed and fell to the ground, charred and smoking.

 "He's still alive," Bruce said gruffly. "Not bad. I'll call Gordon." Zuko's chest swelled with pride, but he simply nodded. 

"There's a robbery at the R&D center of Enterprises," Oracle said suddenly.

"Blue Spirit and I are going to check it out," Bruce answered.

"10-4," Dick replied. "Call if you need backup." Bruce grunted in response and, gesturing for Zuko to follow, jumped back into the Batmobile before speeding off.

"R&D?" Zuko echoed what Oracle had said earlier. "What's that?"

"It's the Research and Development Center," Bruce replied. "It's where we store Batman Inc. tech that's still in production."

"Oh."

“That's right. If anyone succeeds in getting their hands on what's in there-"

"-They'll get their hands on everything." Zuko bit the inside of his cheek. "It's fine. We can do this."

A hint of a smile ghosted across Bruce's lips, so small that Zuko wasn't sure if it'd even been there in the first place.

__

The Research and Development Center of Wayne Enterprises was primarily used to develop advancements in technology. These advancements ranged from more effective cancer treatments to new engines for vehicles.The blueprints listed the building as being eight stories. Unbeknownst to the majority of WE's employees, there was a basement. A basement hidden far below the actual building, so far below than an express elevator was needed. This basement was where the technology for Batman Inc. was developed.

Unlike the secret basement of Falcone's club, this basement was in pristine condition. It had a hospital feel to it, with white flooring, walls, and ceiling. 

Bruce and Zuko had just grappled down the elevator shaft was landed at the end of one of the basement's hallways."The only alarm that's been triggered was the entry alarm," said Bruce. "The rooms where the... merchandise are kept have separate alarm systems. Can you tell me what this means, Blue Spirit?"

"The intruder either doesn't know what exactly is down here, or they just haven't managed to get into the rooms yet." Zuko frowned. "Wait, if they figured out this place was here then that means they definitely know what's down here. So then they haven't found the location of the 'merchandise.'"

"And you believe that to be the most probable scenario?"

"Well... yeah. I mean, unless they managed to bypass the alarm system. But that's impossible, this place is un-hackable ever since that incident with Ra's al Ghul. The security system is invincible. Right?"

"Rule of thumb, Blue Spirit," Bruce grunted, raising his arm closer to his face to he could activate his gauntlet. "Nothing is invincible. Everything has a weakness. Some are harder to find than others, but the only thing that is truly invincible is God Himself. And I don't think He would have any reason to break into Wayne Enterprises."

"Okay, but they tripped the alarm when they came in," Zuko pointed out. "So they must not have been able to hack the system."

"Unless they want us here."

Zuko sucked in his teeth. "So that's what you think? This is a trap?"

"It isn't a trap if we know about it," Bruce countered. "Here, I'm pulling up the motion sensors." Sure enough, the holographic screen coming from the gauntlet showed motion in room 121.

"Is that one of the rooms?" Zuko asked. 

Bruce nodded."Yes." He and Zuko started to run in the direction of the before mentioned room. "There's very dangerous technology in there. We need to stop this intruder now." The two were sprinting, taking twists and turns through the winding hallways until Bruce stuck his arm out, signaling for Zuko to stop. In front of them was room 121, the door ajar.

"Holy crap," Zuko whispered. "They hacked us."

"They hacked us," Bruce echoed. "And now they're going to pay. Manuever 13. Be cautious." Bruce rolled a metal ball into the room, and it exploded into smoke Using the smoke as cover, Zuko and Bruce dashed into the room. 

Using the heat signatures to see through the smoke, Zuko jumped forward, swinging down his broadswords in arc. His eyes widened as they hit air; the person had disappeared."What-" he broke off as someone landed a hit to his spine. Zuko whirled around, kicking out at his attacker, yet his foot hit air as the assailant dodged again.

"A teleporter?" he muttered. A laugh hit his ears, and the assailant landed another hit to the back of his head. Zuko tried to return the hit with one of his own but, of course, he missed.So far, Zuko noticed, they were teleporting closely around him. They were staying in close proximity with him. It would be hard to deduce where exactly they would strike, unless he limited their options.

Zuko stomped on the ground, and a ring of fire flared up around him. The attacker led out a gut wrenching scream as they were caught in the flames.He caught a glimpse of a person in a black suit clutching their arm before they teleported above his head, aiming a dropkick above him.

 But Zuko had anticipated this. He grabbed their leg from above and slammed them on the ground. They landed with a crack and coughed.

"You just broke my spine, you asshole," the person wheezed. They were still now, and Zuko could see she was a girl with long brown hair in a wine-colored robe. 

Zuko gulped, forcing down the rising panic at the girl's words. "Maybe you shouldn't have tried to break my skull."

The girl shrugged. "Just following orders."

"Who are you!?" Zuko snarled. "Tell me! Who are you and what do you want with this technology!?"

"Well, if you must know," the girl said, pain evident in her voice despite her calm tone. "I am but a servant of The Lady of the Dual Skies."

"The Lady of the Dual Skies?" Zuko echoed. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing's taken," Bruce said as he crossed his arms from where he stood behind Zuko. "Nothing has even been tampered with. You clearly weren't looking for anything here. So what did you want?"

"The Lady does not permit me speaking with anybody but you." The girl was speaking directly to Zuko, not sparing Bruce a glance. "She has something she wishes you to know."

Zuko narrowed his eyes behind his mask. "And what would that be?"

The girl grinned wickedly. "She says she'll see you soon."

With that, a portal opened up under the girl and she disappeared in a flash of purple light.

[mischiefmanaged33]

They Both Die At The End - Adam Silvera

I've gotten back to reading actual books rather than exclusively fanficiton recently, and I've found myself having rather large opinions of the books I've been reading. I decided that I will begin reviewing each book here, if not for other people so that I can rid my mind of all the chaos and emotions in text format.

Above the break, I will provide a spoiler-free review of the book, and below the divide will be my true honest thoughts, ending and all.

Overall Rating: 9/10

Genre: Fiction (Alternate reality)

"Maybe it's better to have gotten it right and been happy for one day instead of living a lifetime of wrongs." - Adam Silvera

They Both Die At The End is an absolutely lovely book. The title in itself is a bit of a spoiler, but you never truly know until you read it yourself. The book takes place in an alternate reality where up to 24 hours before you die you get a call from the Death Cast telling you of your imminent demise. The main characters Mateo and Rufus both get the call and are doing everything they can to make their LastDay their best one. This book is amazing and absolutely tore my heart apart. There are two gay main characters (well, at least one of them is bi, so yay! bi rep!), but their sexual orientation isn't the main focus of the book. Every part of this book hits hard, and small life lessons are approached beautifully. I would recommend everyone reads this book.

SPOILERS!!!!!!!!!!!!

I went into this book hoping that there was a twist or a catch, and I wouldn't get my heart ripped to pieces by fiction for the second time this week, but to no avail. The book was absolutely lovely, though I had no strong feelings for either of the character's personalities at first, I soon grew to love each of them and their little quirks. Mateo was a bit too paranoid for me, and Rufus was a bit brutal in the beginning. However, Rufus's love for his found family and Mateo's belief in finally getting over his fears won me over rather quickly. Reading this book knowing that the characters were going to die made everything hit differently. Mateo refusing to live his last day made me want to live my life more. Rufus's attachment to the Plutos was heartwarming and yet devastating because you know these wonderful people will be left without their friend. The whole time I had been reading about Mateo's visit to Linda I had been crying, "TELL HER" the whole time. I will mourn for Mateo's father who may have woken up to find his son was gone, the only goodbye left in the form of a note and Rufus's Instagram. The Instagram was a small plot point, but one I found unbearably profound and cute. The intertwining stories throughout the book were all almost as profound as the main one, but mainly served as foreshadowing and giving a sense of foreboding for the main characters. Nothing, and I repeat, NOTHING will ever make me cry as much as Mateo and Rufus singing American Pie at the club and then kissing each other when they get off the stage. That song was such a perfect fit, and as soon as I saw that, I started tearing up. God, there are so many good things about this book. There is really only one thing I can criticize and it's something that can't really be helped. Throughout the book, I found it ridiculously hard to suspend my disbelief for the Death Cast. Everything about those phone calls is paradoxical, and I couldn't help but philosophizing about it while reading the book. Would these people die on this day anyway? Do people die because of the Death Cast, rather than because it's their time to go? The main story and even the side stories seem to show that a lot of the actual deaths were in fact Death Cast's result. Without having gotten the call, Mateo would have never met Rufus, and he wouldn't have turned on the stove to make them a cup of tea in the middle of the night. Without Mateo, Rufus wouldn't have been so consumed with grief he walked into the road without checking. Victor wouldn't be on the road to console his fiancé, Dierdre would have jumped off the roof, and Vin wouldn't have gone out with a bang. I know this was part of the book's message itself, but it still messed with my immersion.

In the end, this was an amazing book I'm glad I decided to pick up.

[johannas-motivational-insults]

I for one was seething while Ms assh... Weaver basically confirmed to her designed punching bag that she keeps her around because she's a decent emotional support for Adora, so... wanna go even deeper and stab the reader s'more?

Oh I love stabbing the reader. And I love this scene so I’ll do the whole fuckin’ thing. (Commentary is bolded.)

This scene really is heartbreaking. It was easy for me to write, though, because Catra and (Shadow) Weaver have a very particular dynamic that I vibe with. It's such a pivotal scene for Catra too, because it confirms her fears that her success would be met with pushback and that Weaver really doesn’t love her or care about her at all. It makes her feel dehumanized both in the sense of being treated as subhuman and being treated as a tool. Something to be kept around only so long as it’s useful, discarded the second it’s not. This is the moment when she learns for certain just how little she means to Weaver and it’s painful to read.

*Content Warning for abuse*

The sound of keys in the front door makes Catra frown in confusion as she unloads the last of her books. No one is ever home this early. Even when Weaver doesn’t have any sponsored clubs or other teacher bullshit to deal with, 3:15 is the earliest she ever gets home.

But Catra’s always had sensitive ears, and those are definitely Ms. Weaver’s footsteps crossing the floor. When the woman pokes her head into the kitchen, no doubt to investigate the smell, Catra gives her a jerky nod. “Went to work after all?”

“No, I had some errands to run,” Weaver replies flatly. “Lying around all day like a lazy sack of meat doesn’t come naturally to me.”

Me @ Weaver:

Bitch she’s baking cookies, she’s clearly not lying around all day. Why you gotta be like that?

“Yeah, me neither,” mutters Catra, deflecting the obvious implication.

“I have something for you,” says Weaver, and Catra can’t help but look up in surprise. Weaver tosses her something and she instinctively moves to catch it. Just before it hits her hands, she realizes what it is and her stomach drops. Fingering the rough edges of the rolled up newspaper, she tries to breathe steadily as she forces her eyes up to meet Weaver’s. (Oh gotta love that trauma response.) The woman looks more unimpressed than predatory right now, but Catra knows better than anyone how that can change at the drop of a hat.

“Looks like your little ploy paid off,” she remarks.

Sighing, Catra sets the paper down on the table. “I told you, it wasn’t a ploy. Just a play.”

“I see. And I suppose the fact that this article was written by a close friend of yours is a complete coincidence.”

LOL clearly Weaver knows nothing about Entrapta if she thinks she could be bribed into writing something she doesn’t believe.

“I had nothing to do with that,” Catra denies swiftly. When Weaver’s expression doesn’t change, she insists, “Really, I swear.”

Weaver’s head tips the slightest bit, that familiar predatory tinge seeping into her eyes and voice. “And why should I believe you?”

Catra huffs, arms crossing defensively over her chest. “Why would I do something I know would get me in trouble?”

“I don’t know, Catra, you tell me,” says Weaver, slowly closing the gap between them. “It’s not as though you’ve been doing that your entire life.”

Me @ Weaver:

Like okay, it’s kinda true. But still.

Tensing more with every step Weaver takes, Catra raises her hands innocently, trying and failing not to shift her weight to her back foot. Not to give ground or show her fear. (This is making me super uncomfortable so I’m probably just gonna keep memeing at you all. Yes, I am aware that this is my fault. No, I am not sorry.) “Look, Entrapta has really strong opinions, and they’re always backed up with facts. I couldn’t just plant the idea in her head to write something like this.”

“Facts, you say?” muses Weaver. She reaches past Catra in a very deliberate show of invading her space, and Catra can’t help but suck a quick breath in through her teeth. But Weaver doesn’t touch her. All she does is pick up the paper and turn it over in her hands as though she is deep in thought. Then the motion stops, her eyes snapping up sharply. “So you agree with her.”

Weaver @ Catra:

“That’s not what I said,” protests Catra, her exasperation showing through her tenuous attempts at staying calm. “Stats are facts, not who deserves what awards or whatever. It’s not like I even care about that.”

Weaver shakes her head, her chuckle positively dripping with condescension. “Oh, now I know you’re lying.”

She is. She really is. And the fact that Weaver knows how much Catra cares and wants praise and approval and still denies her that makes me want to slap a bitch.

Also I just realized how closely this scene parallels the one in 1x04 and that actually wasn’t intentional but I’ll take it, clearly I’ve got the spirit of their relationship down.

“No, I-”

The newspaper smacks Catra across the cheek and she yelps in shock and pain, hand flying to her mouth.

It shouldn’t be a shock, not after 14 years of this shit. It still is, every time.

Ugh, ow.

“Enough of your lip,” hisses Weaver. “You know better than to contradict me.”

Hate is not a strong enough word for how I feel about this woman. Unfortunately there are too many people just like her. I’ve noticed the audience particularly hates this incarnation of Shadow Weaver and I think it’s because when she’s stripped of her magic the tactics she’s left with are far too familiar. I feel the same way.

Catra’s tongue swipes along her stinging lip, checking for blood. It comes back clean, but the lack of physical damage does nothing to calm the quiet rage boiling up inside of her. Weaver has never treated her with an ounce of respect, and now she has the gall to hit her with a rolled up newspaper like she’s a fucking animal. Subhuman. (I mean this feeling comes straight out of Demons but with Catra being human in this au it’s... not worse, definitely not, but it hits differently.) Catra’s fists clench and her chest puffs out as she straightens up to her full height (even if it’s nothing on Weaver).

“Do not touch me,” growls Catra, her voice low and dangerous in a way few people have ever heard it. “I’m an adult, that’s officially illegal now.”

Oh, you sweet summer child.

“Oh, you want to talk about the law?” counters Weaver, sounding far too calm in comparison. It just makes Catra angrier. And maybe a little scared. Somehow Weaver always makes her feel out of control, which never ceases to remind her who is in control. (Oof.) “I am under no obligation to let you live here, Catra, let alone at a significant discount. I do that out of the kindness of my heart. (LOL the what now?) Would you rather I throw you out in the streets like the stray you are?”

Yay for another insinuation that Catra is an animal. Nice going, Weaver.

Also, that is one of the meanest fucking lines I’ve ever written for Shadow Weaver and that’s saying something.

Those words hit Catra right in the gut, a blow far more painful than any physical one. They trigger a flood of other words that always seem to find her, stick to her no matter how she tries to slough them off, prove them wrong. Stray, nuisance, brat, worthless, unwanted, unloved...

But she was loved once. She was.

Oh boy, get ready for PAIN. So I wasn’t orginally planning to write this flashback but then I got a Very Bad Idea and I love torturing my readers (and myself) so this happened.

Kneeling in front of the open door, Papi opened his arms for a goodbye hug. When Catra stepped into them, she felt his smile against the side of her head. “Te amo, mija.”

“Yo también te amo, Papi,” said Catra, tiny arms tightening around his neck with a proud grin. He hadn’t taught her that one, she’d pieced it together on her own.

Papi chuckled in surprise and approval, ruffling her wild hair. “You’re a genius, little one. You know that?”

“Yep!” she answered, beaming with the completely earnest confidence only a precocious three year-old can muster.

Baby Catra’s behavior may be slightly inspired by my highly intelligent four year-old niece, who is also biracial with a multilingual father.

A couple playful taps of the horn from the driveway interrupted them, making Papi chuckle once again. Pulling away enough to look Catra in the eye, he winked conspiratorially. “Better not keep Mommy waiting. You know how she is.”

Catra shook her head soberly in agreement. Mommy was notoriously impatient, a speed demon on the road. Catra loved driving with her, laughing like a maniac from the backseat whenever she’d swerve and cuss out the idiots in her way. Those cackles never failed to make Mommy shoot Catra a smile in the rearview mirror, her transitory rage melting away in an instant at the sound. Still, it was never good being on the receiving end of that impatience.

(Catra’s mother is not at all inspired by my sister, however. She drives like a fucking granny.)

Papi quickly pecked Catra on the cheek before standing and waving goodbye, giving an appreciative nod to the babysitter as he pulled the door shut behind him.

He didn’t close it loudly or anything, but no sound is louder in Catra’s nightmares. She never saw either of them again.

“Answer me, Catra,” Ms. Weaver demands sternly.

That was what she had. And this is where she ended up.

Yeah, no wonder this version of Catra just assumes anything good in her life will be taken away. In some ways it might be worse than being Adora starting with nothing, because not only does Adora not remember what she lost in infancy (which wasn’t great to begin with), she has been steadily moving up in the world since. Catra’s had the opposite trajectory.

Suddenly noticing the tears rolling down her cheeks, Catra swipes them away with the back of her hand. Her throat hurts too much to swallow, so she doesn’t even bother trying to settle her voice. Her weakness is already on full display, anyway. Shaking her head, she whispers hoarsely, “No, Ms. Weaver.”

“Good,” Weaver says with finality as Catra sniffles, blinking back more tears. “You still live under my roof, and you will abide by my rules or face the consequences, just like anyone else.”

Oh boy, that’s a little too close for comfort. Again with this version of SW feeling especially despicable to the audience because it’s so familiar.

Just like anyone else. Sure.

Yeah you’re right Catra, go off.

As Weaver starts toward her room, Catra half-heartedly tosses a hand with an empty, resigned sigh. “What rules did I break this time?”

Weaver turns back, her expression dangerous, but Catra can’t muster the enthusiasm for fear anymore. Her eyes are still burning, voice tight with emotion as she confesses, “I’ve tried, Ms. Weaver. I-” Her voice cracks and she shakes her head, pinching her brow in shame. “I never wanted you to hate me.”

brb crying in the club

K but honestly the helplessness here is just heartbreaking. And it’s just like in canon. We saw, Catra did try to be a good soldier and make Shadow Weaver like her, but it was a lost cause. I mean I didn’t pull this dialogue directly from 2x06 but it’s a similar flavor for sure.

When Catra dares to look back up she finds that Weaver’s expression has softened slightly, though she still looks annoyed. “I never said I hate you,” she says, the uncharacteristic gentleness catching Catra off guard. “You’re just more trouble than you’re worth most of the time.”

It shouldn’t be a comfort. But it is, anyway. It is. Catra sniffles again, dipping her head to wipe her eyes on her shoulders.

The fact that this is a comforting answer to Catra is so fucked up and tragic but so befitting of their relationship.

“Though I will admit, you do have a way with Adora,” concedes Weaver, her tone very nearly impressed. “Not everyone can handle someone like that and keep them on task. I’ve had plenty come through my classroom.”

Wow, so we’re just being casually ableist now? Nice.

My thoughts exactly, Catra.

...Ableist and pragmatic.

Catra snorts under her breath, shaking her head as her eyes fall to the floor. How did she never put this together before? “That’s why you’re letting me stay.”

This truly is a gut punch moment. She thought maybe Weaver actually had a bit of affection for her or was invested in her future after all (which tracks for Catra because she is mean to the people she likes) and that’s why she let her stay, but no. As usual, it’s all about Adora. That is not going to bode well for the resentment moving forward.

“She does badly with her routine being disrupted, and she’s come to rely on you,” states Weaver, tipping her head in acknowledgement.

“Plus she’d hate you if you kicked me out,” Catra adds pointedly.

Weaver smiles, all teeth. “It is better for everyone this way, wouldn’t you say?”

Better for you, you mean.

“Sure,” mutters Catra. When that response earns her a look, she corrects herself. “Yes, Ms. Weaver.”

Eyes narrowed into slits, Weaver warns her, “Make no mistake, Catra. Adora would manage if you left us. If your behavioral issues begin to outweigh your usefulness, I reserve the right to evict you.” She cocks an expectant eyebrow. “Am I understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” mumbles Catra.

Poor Catra, I just...

“I care very much about Adora, and I won’t have you dragging her down with you.”

“I remember,” Catra says numbly, picking at her nails and avoiding Weaver’s gaze.

Ooooooooooof. Why do I insist on hurting myself so much with all these canon parallels?

Studying her intently for a moment, Weaver concludes, “Yes, I’m sure you do.” Then she turns and leaves without another word.

Well that was lovely. Anybody else want to reach through the screen and throttle a bitch? ‘Cause I sure do.

This scene doesn’t cause an immediate reaction on Catra’s part but it definitely moves her to a place where she’s very aware of her role and how useless it is to try to change it (at least in this house), and that makes everything a little more volatile. She’s not at a breaking point yet but she’s getting closer, it certainly takes the wind out of her sails a bit. She will recover in the short term because she is Catra and her stubbornness makes her very resilient, but it weighs her down and eventually she is going to snap. Y’all will love that, I’m sure. ;)