#bitch swept all the awards

[broadwaydivastournament]

Broadway Divas Tournament: Semifinals

Two-time Tony-winning, newly three-time nominee, dancer-extraordinaire Bebe Neuwirth (1958) is best known for her winning role as Velma Kelly in Chicago (1996) alongside her beloved Annie Reinking. After playing Velma off-and-on for some years, she then took on Roxie, and later Matron "Mama" Morton. Bebe has also won for Sweet Charity (1986), and is a two-time Emmy winner for, of course, Lilith in Cheers. Other credits include Here Lies Jenny (2004), Fosse (2001), and Cabaret (2024), which opened to glowing reviews for Bebe, and dismal reviews for basically everything else. In addition to her beloved stage, Bebe is a devoted cat-lover, and activist. She founded the Dancers' Resource program to provide support for injured and/or aging dancers. She is *THE* living Dancing Diva of Broadway.

Seven-time Tony nominee, two-time winner Bernadette Peters (1948) has a sixty-plus year stage career of monumental proportions. Considered the foremost Sondheim interpreter, their collaborative works include Sunday in the Park with George (1984), Into the Woods (1987), Gypsy (2003), and Follies (2011). She has a thriving concert career, and was a co-founder of the beloved Broadway Barks event each year in Shubert Alley. She has an honorary third Tony (Isabelle Stevenson Award) for her outstanding advocacy and philanthropy. A true Broadway Baby at her core.

NEW PROPAGANDA AND MEDIA UNDER CUT: ALL POLLS HERE

"Are you truly a Broadway Diva if you haven't appeared on the cover of the biggest queer magazine of its age? I am just over the moon with all the Bebe Neuwirth buzz going on now. She got her third Tony nomination for Cabaret, she's about to embark on a whirlwind press tour, she's the critic standout of that whole show. I need her in every magazine, newspaper, and photoshoot right now. And here she is, in the semifinals against the Bernadette Peters herself. She's swept every poll up until this point. It's been a lovely run."

"I don't care that it's from a movie. This was my gay awakening. This song right here (along with "A Lovely Night"). At three years old, I saw this little redheaded bitch of a stepmother and decided, yeah, that's the blueprint. And it was. I proceeded to fall in love with Broadway Divas in movie musicals for the next few decades. I do love a petite, curly-haired, fair-skinned Diva with a unique voice... This poll hurts me personally because Bebe is my favorite and Bernadette was my first."

[spacedoutman]

【uɐʍs ɓuıuɹnoɯ ǝʌop ǝʇnW | Never too young to die】

(ʇɹɐԀ 4)

Description: The love of her life never stopped haunting her even after she vanished. When she returns as the psychopathic Velvet von Ragnar, Can top-secret agent Helena “Leni” Hé save her not only career but life when it all threatens to smother in the ashes of love?

♥ Oc x Velvet von Ragnar

Note: Velvet spoo ky moment gasping face emoji i mean I have this image of Velvet in the middle of laughing after she flushes the tap and iswtg she is so pretty I'm losing it but I was posting the next part of my fanfiction so yeah here you go.

(The portrait is Psyche being abandoned by Cupid by Jeane-Honore Fragonard!)

Warnings: None for this chapter

!Ao3

“Von Ragnar, von Ragnar, von Ragnar.” Groaned Leni, rubbing her temple. “It’s about time.”

Drew sat back, tossing one leg over the other. He looked off the balcony, over the wall and into the ocean of trees so far off they blurred. His eyes drifted down. Whoever groomed Leni’s yard deserved an award. “Are they actually sending more people after him now?” Leni rested her hand on her jaw, setting her elbow on the glass table.

Drew nodded slightly. “I mean, they sent us in.” He shrugged, brows slightly furrowed and staring like a hawk. Leni picked up her glass. Warmth hugged her hand. She gulped down coffee bitter enough to knock her out. She set it down, rubbing her stinging throat.

“That was stupid of me.”

He chuckled in an ‘I told you so’ kind of way. “I’ll admit.” Leni dusted her shoulders. “It’s hard to take a bunch of rag-tag folks like Ragnar’s ‘army’ seriously. Especially with how long and hard we’ve been working?”

“But the shit they’ve done is devastating.” His voice softened.

“That’s true.”

“An entire electrical plant was somehow hijacked with explosives.” a distant look grew in Drew’s eyes as he rubbed his temple. “The reaction wasn’t pretty.”

“When?”

“About a month ago. It put out an entire city and the suburbs around it.” Drew closed his eyes. “When I first heard, I was like.. ‘Well how the hell did someone have enough explosives to do that?’”

“It was an electrical plant.”

“I mean more of—how did they even do that?” He scoffed. “It’s insanity. Everything Ragnar does is straight out of loony toons.”

Leni chuckled, Drew halfheartedly joined her. “And we still haven’t sent more agents after her?” Leni rested her palm against her forehead. Her eyes widened slightly as an overly tight but small smile landed on her face.

“Well, I’m gonna bring up that point you made earlier.” He playfully replied, pointing loosely.

Her eyes darted to him. It felt as if she’d been pricked by a needle. “Unless you’ve forgotten already.” He chuckled. She thought back.

“I guess it slipped my mind.”

“Trust me, I get you.”

The two broke into laughs. “Hopefully we can just snipe the son of a bitch and get it over with.” Drew looked off to the side, Leni nodded, leaning forward a bit.

“You know what? That wouldn’t be half bad.” She sighed. “We’ve got enemies overseas. The nuclear threat? It feels like things are barreling into shit.”

She took a deep breath. The air was oddly muggy for winter. “So when will we be back in action?” She pieced her hands together and laid them on the table. He shook his head.

“I wish I could tell you.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I guess we just have to wait until the guys have her pinned.”

“We can count on Dennis.”

A little bit later.

“Here we go.” Dennis grinned widely, brushing a hand through and pulling his gelled brunette hair apart. He swept it back quicker than he breathed.

Leni looked at Drew, who stared so intensely at the map on the computer it would shatter. Quiet typing from other staff and gentle chatter scratched an itch in Leni’s brain, as well as the heavy scent of coffee. She laid a hand on Drew’s shoulder, furrowing her brows and leaning in close. “You cracked it, didn’t you?” Dennis clicked. Zooming right off the city and into a suburb.

“Another warehouse?” Drew murmured.

“Not quite.” Dennis assured. “We sent a couple guys out there last night to scope things out.”

“What did they find?” Leni interjected intently.

“Apparently, it’s a little family style restaurant.” Dennis said almost as if he didn’t believe what he was saying. “Von Ragnar has been hiding out there, allegedly.”

“We’re a joke.” Drew miserably groaned, rubbing his forehead and slumping. “How did we not..?”

Dennis kept a straight face as he zoomed in a little more. Leni gazed off. Her heart stopped dead. A familiar pair of warm brown eyes met hers from thin black frame. Leni quickly blinked. Penny’s image faded into a contemporary portrait of a woman sitting in front of a desk, crowded by newspapers and cards. One leg was crossed under the chair she sat on while the other laid on the chair by the desk.

The woman’s deep pink dress contrasted against the muted colors. Leni composed herself and turned back, fixing her sleeves quickly. Pop! An idea came to mind. “Why don’t we have a couple guys bug it.” Leni pressed her fingers against her chin.

“Genius.” Drew would’ve pumped his fist. “Dennis, can you have that done for us?”

“No problem.” He reassured. “I’ll have it finished as soon as possible.”

“Speaking of, is there anything new around R-”

“Hey.” A mousy voice hardly louder than a whisper peeped.

Leni and drew spun around to face the young Birdie. She’d come a long way from wild hair and ragged clothing. She was a plus size girl with fluffy brunette curls that settled neatly on her shoulders, blending into her suit. “Birdie.” Leni’s expression softened. “How is everything?”

“I wanted to ask you that.”

Leni’s brows shot up a little. “Well, we’ve got a new lead.”

“I’ll get her up to date.” Drew reassured. “Come on, let’s go grab a coffee.”

“Alright.” Birdie murmured. Dennis spiraled around in his chair.

“Drew—before you go,” He said in a breath. “Do you have any word from Carruthers?”

Birdie held back snickers. Drew shook his head and walked off. Birdie waved quickly, flashed an awkward grin and rushed after Drew. Leni waved and smiled. She turned back. “Just let me know when you tap it, alright?” She jammed a hand in her pocket, fiddling with a pen.

“I doubt we’ll get anything.” Drew groaned. “Von Ragnar could be anyone.”

Leni leaned closer to the computer. The map peered back at her. “I guess it’s a matter of who discusses what.” Leni shrugged before giving him a playful smack on the head. “There’s a lot of listening to be done.” Dennis chuckled.

“Sure, Leni, sure.”

Meanwhile.

“I doubt we’ll get anything.” Drew groaned. “Von Ragnar could be anyone.”

A wide grin crawled across her lips. Her silky curls brushed over the device as she lowered it from her ear. “Anyone?” She groaned, peering at it through half-shut eyes. “Oh you poor little bugs..” She jeered, leaning over the seat and laying the device in the man’s open palms. “Get it out of my sight.”

“Will do, mistress.” He said through a sly grin while he straightened his tie.

Velvet’s heart jumped hard enough to knock her against the car seat. She clutched the arm and took a long, deep breath in. The small pause shattered as she burst into cackles. The engine roared.

[frogtanii]

iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.

the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.

wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.

hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.

it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.

iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.

over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.

hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.

he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.

god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.

“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...

oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.

hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”

the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”

“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.

“look, i-“

“iwa-chan, i’m-“

they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.

hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”

toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”

he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”

iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.

“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”

all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.

a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.

“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.

they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa’s children and—

“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”

the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.

“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.

iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.

hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”

and then he was gone.

toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.

apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.

you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.

“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”

toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”

you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.

“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.

inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.

you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.

“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.

he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.

later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.

dear yn,

i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.

i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.

you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.

uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.

sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.

he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.

anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.

take care of yourself,

iwaizumi hajime

℗ poker face

so... this is it

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 907

Gif NOT mine. (Found on Pinterest.)

If this gif is yours (or you know who's it is) please let me know, so I can give you/them credit.

Gif credit goes to - Unknown.

Year posted - 2021

Tag(s) - @joikima-joestar

----

Sprinting down the alleyway (Y/n) tripped over rubble scattering the alleys floor, letting out a choked cry as her knees met the concrete. "Someone help please!" She sobbed into the quiet night air, wincing when the man trying to hurt her caught up with her, pulling her back roughly by her hair. "No!" (Y/n) whimpered, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Stupid bitch." The man growled as he roughly rolled her onto her back. "You just had to run." He hissed before slapping her across the face, a cry of pain passing her lips. "Leave her alone!" Another male voice called out, before the mystery man kicked (Y/n)'s attacker in the face, sending the smaller man hurling backwards. He swiftly pulled (Y/n) up to her feet, and moved her to stand behind him, holding out a large sword towards her attacker, his attire like something out of a fantasy. "Who the fuck are you?" The attacker hissed in anger, pulling out his knife, he took a defensive stance, ready to fight the mysterious man. "I suggest you leave." The taller man warned, the tone of his voice, and the clear power behind him made the attacker think twice. "You're lucky." He scoffed before taking off running back down the alleyway. "Are you okay?" The mysterious man asked as he turned his attention to (Y/n), who was clutching his red cape between trembling hands. "Y-yes." (Y/n) whispered as she peered up at the man, her heart stuttering for a moment when their eyes met. "What is your name?" He asked with a charming smile, his eyes glowing with adoration, as he gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. "(Y/n)." She replied softly, blushing when he grasped her hands between his. "Thats a beautiful name, my name is Adam, but most know me as He-Man." He introduced himself, with an award winning smile. "Thank you for saving me He-Man." (Y/n) smiled despite how strange his second name was, and how strange his attire was, she couldn't help but feel drawn to him. "Will you come with me?" He asked despite knowing it would potentially put her in danger, He-Man was confident in his ability to protect her, and unable to allow himself to loose the opportunity to be with his one and only. "I don't know if I should." (Y/n) muttered, her brain trying to overrule her heart. "Of course you should, we are destined to be together (Y/n). Can't you feel it?" His eyes held a small bit of worry, his heart hammering in his chest, fear swelling unlike anything he's ever experienced before. "I think so." (Y/n) nodded her head in agreement, biting her lip softly when his smile returned to his handsome face. "Say you'll come with me?" He-Man practically begged, his thumbs rubbing circles into the backs of her hands. "I'll go with you." (Y/n) agreed in a soft whisper, a giggle escaping her when he swept her up into his arms, spinning her around with a joyous laugh. "I promise to always protect you, to be fiercely loyal to you, and to love you with all my heart." He-Man promised as he rest his forehead against hers, his thumb swiping away the small bit of blood that had begun to dry upon her lip, her lip having split when the man attacking her struck her. Her heart swelled at his words, never having been told something so romantic and endearing. "As do I." (Y/n) cooed already head over heels for him, knowing deep down that this was meant to be, and that he would always be true to his word.

[asvterias]

𝖫𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖣𝖺𝗍𝖾 ~ 𝖩𝗈𝖺𝗇

joan x girlfriend!reader

764 words

you grumpily walked into the mess hall, seeing your friends a few tables talking to each other. you grabbed your food from the lunch lady and walked over to your friends' table, you take joan by surprise by wrapping your arms around her waist and putting your chin on her right shoulder.

“someone's grumpy today.” cindy jokes, hoping to lighten your mood but it doesn't work as you glared at her saying, “fuck off cindy.” you mumbled taking your chin off of joan's shoulder. joan raises her head up and kisses you, suddenly your crappy attitude vanished away.

she pulls away from the kiss but you held her chin back up with your index finger shaking your head, she smiles and gives you another kiss and you so happily return the kiss back. “uh, there are other people at this table.” cindy said, interrupting your make-out sesh with your beloved girlfriend.

“you just wish that you could do that with alice, wouldn't you?” gary teased the berman girl as he puckered his lips at her and tommy bursts out laughing. cindy immediately disagreed but her face was telling a different story, the poor girl was as red as a tomato so she smacked tommy over the head with her hand.

the boy holds the back of his head in pain. “why are you so grumpy? i don't like grumpy [name].” joan pouts as you sit next to her and place your head on her shoulder. you loved joan's scent, weed and cinnamon, yeah it was a weird combination but it made you feel safe.

“i'm sorry butterfly, i just had a bad day today. sheila was such a bitch but hey nothings new.” you let out a heavy sigh as you finish, slamming your head against the table. a few seconds later you rose your head back up and joan kisses your cheek and a small smile makes a way across your face. joan gets up and leaves and than comes back a few seconds later.

joan grabs your hand, pulling you up out of the seat, “come on.”

“where are we going?” you ask as you follow behind, your hands fitting perfectly for each other.

“you'll see.” joan replies back, still holding hands with you. once you're outside the mess hall, joan says, “jump on my back.” you did as commanded, jumping on the shadysider's back, her arms hoisting up your thighs and your arms placed on her shoulder. the scenery was so happy as the kids all play around both shadysiders and sunnyvalers, joan walks past the camp nightwing sign as you see ziggy walk past you guys.

the wind swept across your face with every step joan took, which leveled your breathing as well. you relax your eyes as you hear the leaves crunching under your feet, so that could only mean that you're in the forest. joan puts you down and spreads the sheet across the forest floor and sits on it and you copied the action. you laid your head on her lap as she plays with your hair, both in silence only hearing the birds chirping.

despite living in shadyside, the forest was beautiful, only in the daytime of course. the sky was a baby blue with the sun radiating on the forest, luckily joan chose a place away from the sun. you were only a few feet away from the lake and you were under a wing of a very big piece of leaves which protected you from the sun.

“thank you baby, i really needed this.” joan looks down at you and smiles lovingly at you.

“well, i know how much you love the lake and our dates, so i combined them together.” your lips meet for a kiss, her soft and gentle lips on yours as you place a hand on her cheek. the kiss deepens but it still stays sweet not lustful, you always like the sweet and passionate kisses rather than the lustful kisses.

joan's lips were so soft, that you just wish that you could kiss them forever. hey if they had a award for the most affectionate couple in shadyside it would go to you and joan. you loved joan and she loved you and you two wouldn't have it any other way.

© asvterias, 2022. please do not plagiarize any of my works.

[allpromarlo]

Ocs 👁👁 ? I would like to Hear them

OOOOOOOOOHHHHH BABY BUCKLE UP THIS BOUTTA BE A L O N G ONE

i'm only gonna get into the nba ocs that i have and not the like 27 other ones because issa BIG ass universe and i don't have the time nor space to talk about all of them in detail LMAO

the first one that i had was youngjae park (i created him during my kpop phase and i've gotten so used to the name that i'm not even gonna change it no more) who i had as a 7'1" athletic tANK on the blazers. kinda like nurk just a lot better and with a VERY weird homoerotic friendship with dame but that's beside the point LOL. he's the dude who went into isolation for four months and came back as super saiyan god mode korean jesus and averaged a quintuple double (dont question it.) and swept every award he was eligible for. he was drafted 16th overall in 2014 (at the age of 16 oops) by the blazers, won roty in 2015, dpoy in 2016 (my apologies kawhi) then had a terrible season in 2017 because of injures, still made the wcf with a mediocre blazers squad and missed the finals because of ONE (1) failed block on steph . then everybody was like TRADE THIS BUM I WANT HIM OFF MY TEAM but it was all sadeness when he went missing smh (hid in a small town in korea for dramatic effect because he's all about that camp shit) came back in 2018 opening night against the bulls (who dIDNT TRADE DROSE IN THIS UNIVERSE FAWK YALL) and from then on it was AAAAALLL downwards for the rest of the league. 2018 and 2019 were seasons in HELL for the warriors especially 2018 because he 112 pieced them on christmas in their own arena. threepeatdled with the blazers, got injured AGAIN in 2021 but dw he's coming for that revenge season in 2022. on his personality i'd say he walks the line between annoying and funny and does it in an exceptionally bisexual way because i said so . also he's very dramatic and probably mentally ill because a normal functioning person doesn't hibernate for almost half a damn year and then come back as a god

second one was actually youngjae's lil brother hyunjae (korean names are hard and there wasn't any other options man don't come for me) who is a whole foot shorter than his bro and plays as starting point on the spurs. he's a lot like ai in his play style but has a 3 pt shot that could beat stephs ass and was mvp in 2021. i also sacrificed giannis' championship season for him (oops sorry bout that) so him and the rest of the spurs (including keldon for better judgement) could be champions and san antonio has a legacy outside of tim duncan. ANYWAYS he doesn't have a dramatic ass backstory like youngjae but he did have a maniacal growth spurt in like two years (5'0 -> 6'1) and went from missing the playoffs without even making the play in to being a fourth seed champion in the league. he's a lot calmer and lowkey than his brother (because that bitch is BRASH but alas) and big men like pushing him around until they get the shit beaten outta them by cole grant (he's up soon). all in all he's very nice and also kinda annoying to the point that giannis intentionally pushed him in the finals lol but he has a good heart. 10/10 would recommend

next i have *checks notes* uuuuhhhh everett curtis (...) who's a 7'4" kinda lanky power forward that played in the 2000s. i always thought ai could've come further than he did if he had one other piece and everett is EXACTLY that piece except rett was actually drafted a year before ai did, 3rd overall in 1995. his career went pretty much normal, won an mvp in 00 (fuck u shaq) and a chip in 01 but after that was stuck on a somehwat mediocre sixers team outside of ai cause you know i had to do it to em. there was a whole lotta drama in the 2007 off season about him or ai potentially getting traded (kinda like the ben simmons shiii right now but more weighted) but in the end it resolved in a whole lotta nothing and rett actually re-entered his prime (?) in 2008 and won the chip with ai & melo on the team (melo has a whole autogenerated 2k career in this au but i don't have the time nor energy to get into that) anyways yeah rett eventually retired in 2015 after 20 years of the sixers (two years before ben simmons was drafted hooo lord he said i'ma save myself) and at age 39 and rn he's just kinda existing not doing a lot but he did write a book where he DOESN'T put his best teammate down relentlessly (feel yaself called scottie). as for his personality he's very laid back & calm and him and ai had a very...special bond, you may interpret that however you want LMFAO. overall a very chill dood and i wish him no harm even though i'll probably have to do it to him sorry bro

AAAAAAAAAND LAST UP the newest addition to the squad, cole grant. he was actually based off of this one dude my brother made in 2k (because his own character in mycareer was overpowered as FUCK and he wanted to make a realistic person) who was a 7'2" center with a giannis ass build who can't shoot a 3 for his life (that's what we have hyunjae for) and i put him on the spurs because hyunjae needs a friend. my dude was drafted into the nba at 23 in 2020 after a row of events that include him serving in the army because he didn't wanna pay for college but then realizing oh hell nah this ain't it and leaving. alas he's jacked as fuck now and has knocked a couple players out already (including jokic TWICE because he thought he could do sumn against his favorite little gremlin boy hyunjae) but when they leave his friends and him alone he's pretty chill. he's still underdeveloped because i just made him up like five days ago so if you want i can give more information on him later when i've developed him a lil further LOL. hwat i do know doe is that he and hyunjae have this typical "energetic small dude who's ready to fuck everything up" and "usually laid back big dude who can and will rock your shit if you hurt his friend" typa dynamic. is very funny 2 me indeed

sooooOOO that was it. that's the nba ocs that i have . again it's not all of my ocs because issa lOT of people but like i also have wnba, f1 and music ocs (the musicians root FAR back and are the start - the foundation of this entire universe of madness and unicorns) and i also altered reality to fit my agenda because reality can be whatever i want and it's GOING to be whatever i want

also thanks for asking me about them so now i can post about them on here because i've been Waiting to do that for a long time ily

[bloodys44]

Silence and Cigarette Smoke

Original story and bonus content found here! ↓↓↓↓

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13289933/1/Silence-and-Cigarette-Smoke

Ive almost finished writing chapter 10!! You can read ahead to chapter 9 on FF.net if your interested :) 

Chapter 7: The Dragons Return

790

Natsu hated trains. He'd hated them for as long as he could remember and would probably continue his vendetta until he was dead and cold. The particular train he was on counted as no exception. The constant sway and jostle of the cars made a mockery of his intestines and the over-crowded compartments felt smothering, clouding his senses and leaving him feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable. Not to mention the absolute fiasco he'd gone through to board the damn thing in the first place. Royal security had practically quadrupled over the past year, leaving public vicinities like train stations (Or even the streets for that matter.) ground zero for mage hunting. As of late, there had been a generally adopted travelling protocol for the enchanted, one that Erza had not to kindly drilled into his head. Usually, it involved studying shift changes and positioning of officers, and most almost always included a heavily inflated bill for "proper identification" that his extremely shallow pockets couldn't even fathom. The current time allowance for this trip was nerve-wrackingly unclear, but he knew for certain he didn't have time to waste tracking foot paces of soldier dogs. He also knew he didn't have time for the slight delay the train was currently experiencing, and if that wasn't enough to irritate his already foul mood, the announcement of a passenger registration check certainly was. Of course, the one time he went against the spit-fire warrior's regulations it would come back to bit him in the ass. Typical.

The man seated across the compartment from him was clearly under the same stressors, as he'd transformed from a rather shady looking character to an absolute manic fiend at the simple announcement chime. Stark grey irises darting around in a desperate search for escape. There wasn't any, that, Natsu had already assessed. Unless you wanted to fling yourself off a moving train, your options were to wait until the train staff asked for your non-existent identification or pray to all things holy that today was your luckiest day on earth. Neither of which Natsu was keen on, but he was banking on the latter. The man (Who Natsu assumed went by Dan Straight, as identified by the printed tag hanging from his luggage handle. A complete rookie mistake for an un-registered that he probably would have judged if not for being trapped in the same situation.) began to shake violently as the initial shock dulled, raising his twitching fingers to kneed at his face in a disturbing manner. When he noticed the fire mage staring the whites of his eyes stretched to his brows and Natsu could practically see the connection through Dan's gaze as he realized they were one and the same.

"You have to help me." He whispered pleadingly from across the aisle, leaning to wrap his bruised fingers around the upholstered armrest. His hood had fallen back slightly to reveal matted brown locks and a forehead creased with worry. Black lines were smeared down the outer corner of his eyes as if he had attempted to expand the shape or had previously spent multiple hours crying while wearing black liner. Dan seemed strange enough for both.

Natsu shook his head slowly and gestured for the man to shut the fuck up. The last thing he needed was for a scene to be caused before meeting the seemingly inevitable guillotine. "Please," Dan tried again, ignoring the warning and raising his volume steadily. "They'll really kill me this time!" He lunged forward, grasping onto the dragon slayer's arm and flailed dramatically. "You can't just leave me to die!" People were starting to look now, passengers straining their necks for a view of the wild man spouting a tale of murder.

"Get off of me." Natsu hissed, ripping his forearm away. Dan's nails were unkept and jagged, leaving clear stripes of red across his tan skin. This, he considered to be very minuscule when compared to the train staff whose outlines were becoming visible through the small compartment-door window. "You're going to get us both killed." He sprang forward again, folding himself around Natsu's leg like a toddler in full tantrum. A mantra spilling from his chapped lips that he had money to pay and valuable rewards to gift if his life was saved. Though, based strictly on his appearance, he didn't look to have a penny to his name. Not that it mattered anyway. The compartment door rattled unmistakably as it slid open, revealing two tired-looking service staff followed by the fantastic addition of not one, but four armed (Not that he'd ever seen one without.) royal guards. They were quick to notice the commotion, hightailing it to the back of the cabin, which Natsu could only assess as not great.

Dan screeched like a frightened cat, flinging himself backwards until he was pressed against the wall, hands spread and knees shaking. "This crazy mage attacked me!" He stammered through his chattering teeth, his words fuelling the blind panic Natsu was currently running on. Honestly, this couldn't be a worse morning, and it wasn't even dawn yet. His excuses continued pooling around his feet, his voice cracking with pressure and flipping tones. The expression cemented on the officer's faces only confirming they were less than impressed.

A proper-looking woman with hair that reminded him of tangerines stood wearily from a few seats away, her eye's delicate as she scanned the dragon-slayer fondly before teetering over to one of the steel-plated officers. With a swift finger, she tapped his silver breastplate and confessed what she had really seen happen in a brief manner. The officer, a stout-looking man that seemed like he'd rather be anywhere else, thanked the woman curtly before moving forward to front Natsu. The royal dog's beady eyes tore over him, pausing momentarily on his bloody arm that was beginning to stain his overcoat and Natsu prayed to everything he didn't believe in that his body wouldn't flinch under the scrutiny. He prepared for the worst, attempting to clear his mind in case he had to fly into action with a second's notice. Instead, he was awarded a subtle nod in which he could barely return as he stood there in utter confusion. The guard completely disregarded him, turning in favour of a squirming Dan who whined on def ears about his innocence. The enforcement swarmed him, blocking him into a corner and demanding proof of ticket and identification. The wild mage spurred in fear, his body taking on a morbid glow as he lurched for the underside of his seat where a dented shield had been notably stored away. However, uncharacteristically the stout man moved faster, drawing his blade at the first sign of Dan's unnatural glow and thrust it forward in a well-timed step, completely shredding the terrified man's throat and leaving him to drop lifelessly to the panelled floor with nothing but a suffocated whimper. The guards seemed unfazed, moving without hesitation to clear the body, and the unnaturally calm statement the stout officer provided the rest of the passengers did little if anything to soothe their alarmed demeanour. Though, one after the other, they regained their composure, seating themselves to whisper of bravery and justice. Words that turned Natsu's stomach worse than any train had ever achieved, hoping to never understand how people could so easily overlook needless death.

"You alright son?" The same officer questioned, refocusing his attention back on the fire mage. "You got a little roughed up there."

"S'fine." Natsu forced out, disregarding that he most certainly did not feel fine. He was presented with a pitied look and clearly rehearsed monologue about protecting the people of Fiore, explaining further that a medic office would be just to the left of the terminal once they reached the station, and that he'd be happy to accompany if need be. Attempting to come across thankful, Natsu declined, throwing in a strong smirk to sweeten the deal. With a polite smile, the man left him be, exiting the front of the cabin in which he'd arrived. It took a fair moment for the dragon-slayer to re-compose himself enough to reclaim his seat, and another before he realized they hadn't even asked him for identification. He wanted to feel relieved, but the atmosphere in the compartment felt far too "normal" as if everyone was ignorant of the body being flung from the back of the train in complete disregard. Blind to the blood splattered across the floorboards, the walls, luggage... everything. Including Natsu's face, as he finally came to notice while streaking a hand across it, smearing it. For the remainder of the trip, he sat silently, swaying with slight nausea, drenched in the sent of Dan's blood. A slightly mocking tone repeating "Welcome home." against his skull.

Obviously, Natsu decided against his suggested medical advice, his movements swift and ignored as he swept through the exiting crowd with intentions on the station's exit. Magnolia was just as he'd left it, the air thick with morning baking, encased in a freshness only the area could provide. Cobblestone streets laid as they were in his mind, every corner memorized, every structure noted. And Nostalgia? She was a bitch, to say the very least; Slamming into his chest with no regard for his current mental state. To say he missed this place would be a rather gross understatement, the pull to return stiched to his every skin fibre. He shouldn't have left, but he'd known that from the start. Although, back then, he hadn't known how to stay. He'd forgotten how to look people in the eye. He'd forgotten how to look at her... And only the stars knew how franticly he was trying to remember. He wasn't ready to go back, and as he approached the most familiar clearing in his life, he wished profusely that he had more time.

Apparently, he'd also forgot about the cat hidden away in his bag, which was rather startling in itself considering he was bright blue and talked. Happy's questioning mew of his name propelling him a good foot into the air with freight. He was again thankful that he hadn't been forced to fight for his life back on the train, as he seemed well out of it today.

"Is it safe for me?" His animal friend tested, poking his ears from under the leather bag flap. "It sounded scary earlier."

"Ya, it was," Natsu mumbled, exhaling a heavy breath and removing his pack to unhinge the cover. "But it's okay now, you can come out. Nobody will see you here." Happy practically pounced on him, scurrying up his arm to perch on his shoulder. His little cat eyes growing twice their usual size as he took in the environment.

"This place still smells like Lucy." Happy announced giddily, taking a prolonged sniff of the air. "Do you think she still reads out here?"

The dragon slayer grunted, feeling a wave of guilt crash over him at the sound of her name. "I dunno, maybe." Her scent was old, stale by a few days at least, but still prominent enough to notice. A gentle musk sweeter than honey embedded into tree bark and dusted over every rocky surface. He'd done his best to avoid thinking about her during his journey home, but now, surrounded by her hazed scent he stood no chance. She was plastered to the forefront of his mind like gel adhesive, mutilating his already dishevelled brain. She alone wasn't his only anxiety regarding coming home, but yes, she was undoubtedly most of it. The night he'd left had been awful. He'd fucked up, after a series of fuck ups, and she let him know just that. She screamed at him like she'd never done, cheeks flushed and every hurtful thought she'd ever had spilling from her quaking lip. He hadn't gone to her room with the intention of kissing her and had honestly been just as surprised as her. God, she'd just looked so... Etherial? Golden hair tossed with sleep, but her lux eyes wired. Her exterior, porcelain skin draped casually in one of his old button-downs, moonlight banking off the plane of her exposed chest betrayed her grit and leaving her appearance vulnerable, fragile. Natsu wasn't dumb, he knew she was beautiful. Lucy was always beautiful, even a blind man could see that. But to describe what he witnessed then, with beautiful? It would be an insult. At that moment, even after months of ungracefully avoiding her, he'd never felt closer to her. Of course, she'd reacted negatively, because what sane person wouldn't after the way he'd been treating her. He saw how much it bothered her when he disappeared for hours or left on missions without her. And then, he'd gone and left her for a little over a year. To be fair, he had meant to tell her about this absence, but clearly, he'd gotten distracted. Not that he'd ever known himself to think clearly about anything regarding the blonde. She was his only thought pre-departure, which troubled him greatly for his childhood best friend had just passed and his sole focus had shifted from grief to a crush he didn't know how to approach.

"Natsu? I think this is for you..." Happy whispered from the edge of the clearing, completely jolting his thought process. He hadn't noticed the cat surrender his shoulder in favour of exploring and began to get rather irritated over how spaced out he was acting. Happy sat curled in on himself, eye's wired to a newly placed stone. Edges sanded by hand and base painted with intricate flames. Red melting with gold in thick layers over the smoothed surface.

I miss you.

And god, if he thought he'd been experiencing guilt before, it couldn't compare to the emptiness that was devouring him. The ground had been turned more recently in front of the headstone, showing she'd actually dug a metaphorical resting place for him just as he'd done for Lissana. "I thought you told her we were leaving for a bit, Natsu?"

"I meant too..." He mumbled sheepishly. "I kinda mixed thing's up the night we left."

His blue friend turned, ears drawn forward in sorrow, "Did we make her sad?"

Natsu stepped back slightly, eyeing the gravestone for everything it was worth before scooping his cat to nestle in his arms. "I hope not." He offered, knowing his words held no power. Did she really think he was dead? It was true he hadn't made any effort to contact her, or anyone from the guild for that matter, but to label him deceased felt so final. Had everyone collectively agreed he wasn't worth waiting around for? His hands shook and he cursed himself for how anxious he'd become over a situation he alone had created. Would she be relieved he was alive? Shaking his head and stepping forward with a heavy exhale, he continued towards the castle base. Attempting to put Makarov at the forefront of his priority list.

The hour was still young, the morning rays scarcely coasting over the hilled landscape as he entered FairyTail's grand hall, and almost immediately regretted his choice in entrance. He'd become accustomed to Sabertooth's relaxed mornings over the year, a certain fair-haired woman that liked an early start on breakfast slipping his mind. But the morning hues leaking from the stained glass illuminated her too brightly to ignore. Mira stood just past the swaying kitchen doors, a crate of fruit wedged between her delicate arms and an expression of pure disbelief painted over her rosy face. Breath caught in her throat like she'd just been thrown to the ground and fingers twitching under the weight of her supplies. Though a year had barely passed, she looked older, eye's more slated and dull than when he had last seen her. Natsu tried to summon up a greeting but his voice cracked with anxious pressure, startling Mira and causing her to drop the wooden box in favour of rubbing her rapidly blinking eyes.

"You alright Mira?" Laxus's strong tone carried from the kitchen, voice thick with concern over the box clattering against the stone floor. The fire-mage begrudgingly tore his eyes away from the woman at his front to focus on the doors behind her, which opened right on cue. The burly lightning manipulator barreling through to assess the situation before coming to a halt beside his wife. "Oh shit," Was all he offered but it seemed to be enough confirmation for Mira to realize that she wasn't hallucinating. Tears began streaming over her flushed cheeks, lip caught between her teeth, shivering under the ferocity of her sob. A whole new level of panic overtook Natsu, as he'd never been directly exposed to her crying, and when she sprang towards him he couldn't help but take a step back. He expected a smothering hug of one form or another but instead was greeted by the shocking sting of her palm connecting with his jaw. The slap echoing off the aged walls like a church sonnet to mock him further. She'd never been violent towards him, and it took him completely off guard. When she began to wind up for another swing he did nothing, merely closing his eyes to wait out her justified anger. The hit never came, her soft fingers only tracing over the smear of Dan's blood across his cheek.

"It's not mine." He attempted to justify, brushing her hand away. But the pain dancing with her irises darkened, another sob controlling her frame until she curled in on herself. Slender fingers toying with the hem of her burgundy gown.

"Where have you been... Natsu?" Her soft voice wavered. "No reports, no lacrima calls, not even a letter. Where did you go?"

He ran a hand through his roused hair, guilt overtaking his movements. "I was with Sabertooth," He started, choosing his words carefully. "Spying on the Royal court with Erza." He felt it important not to give too much away, not to spook her more than needed.

"Are you back to stay?" She pressed rather coldly, taking a step back. Her eyes, soppy and blurred remained trained on him, scouting his movements like she was unsure of his intentions. Her pale hand was begging to redden, bruising after such a long hiatus from fieldwork. She placed it delicately over the swell of her stomach. The gesture baffled him further as he'd yet to notice the very obvious child growing within her. His composure relaxed noticeably, Mira's stern gaze growing softer.

"Ya, I think so Mira." He huffed through rushed breaths. Attention focused closely on the woman's stomach. He gave her a moment to smile before asking how far along she was, shuddering at Laxus's proud reply of 6 months. Natsu tried not to dwell over the moments he'd missed, instead, congratulating the couple on their new addition. He attempted to keep his face as plain as he could while explaining he needed to find the Master quickly. Mira looked rather disappointed but with the promise he would return to 'catch up', she directed him towards Mocorav's tower.

Natsu needed a cigarette; This he decided while trying to steady his trembling fingers, pressing them into the hem of his black cargo pants. The guild, still quiet with sleep swallowing his confidence with every step. Happy had disappeared some time ago in favour of finding Wendy and Carla, preferring his other feline friend overpacking. His mind was still reeling, all new information for the day seemed accompanied with a grain of salt. Mira would make a good mother, that he knew for sure, but it made him feel all the more uneasy with the news he had come to deliver. The Royal Calvary was coming, marching as he did now. They knew Fairy Tails location, or so one of Jellal's many informants had claimed. The rumour could be false, but the chance was far too great with so many lives on the line. He had no idea how far along the military group had travelled, Jellal estimating they had a few days at most.

Master Makarov was awake, much to Natsu's surprise; The man tending to sleep longer as he aged. His disciplined face never faulting as he listened to the dragon slayers grim tones.

"Who all knows about this?" He replied simply.

Natsu eyed the man slowly, leaning against the stone-framed fireplace with crossed arms. "Erza," he stated, "Sting and Rouge too, maybe a few trusted others from Sabertooth. They've gone to set up a camp near their hall. Erza said you would know the spot." Just as he'd done with Mira, he chose his words carefully. Jellal's name purposely dropped from the tale as affiliation with him typically was for the worse. Natsu wouldn't go as far as saying he trusted the guy, but Erza did, and that was enough for him.

"Alright, I want to do this quickly and quietly, the less panic that occurs the better," Makarov grumbled, lifting himself from his desk chair. "I'll speak with Laxus, we'll spread the word that we're changing locations over breakfast. We can depart tomorrow's sunrise."

Natsu nodded, rolling out his shoulders and releasing a shaky breath. "Do you know where Lucy is?" He mumbled, "I can't smell her, I want to let her know what's going on."

Makarov looked towards him with a face of discomfort, before turning to favour his hanging overcoat. "She's away with work, due back two days ago I believe."

Natsu shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to calm the shake he had just accomplished in steadying a few minutes prior. Eyes involuntarily darting in search of exit points as his anxiety grew. The stress level for today had been climbing steadily since he'd first opened his eyes, and stressing about Lucy, in particular, had always done awful things to him. "Maybe you could go pack her things for her since you used to be so close and all." The older man finished, placing his coat over himself. Natsu nodded again, spinning on his heel abruptly in the direction of the dorms.

At least five minutes passed while Natsu stood outside her door. The golden door plate embedded with scrolled characters stopping him in his tracks. Lucy. He hadn't seen her in so long yet he could worry about her like it was yesterday. Was she hurt? Had she run into the royal guard while travelling home? Maybe a similar train situation had occurred like this morning. He knew he had no place to worry about her, not after leaving her for so long. But he couldn't help himself, her scent wafting through the oak door propelling images of her in his mind. Lucy was a strong woman, she could typically handle herself, but the thought of the last time he'd seen her in action left a bad taste in his mouth.

He tried to distract himself, fumbling around to light a cigarette in the dim hue of the hall. The exhale felt exquisite, the craving burns finally satisfied. Nicotine supplementing enough confidence for him to open her door. Though he immediately regretted entering, nostalgia once again stealing his breath. Her room was kept tidy, windows sealed and curtains drawn. All her books and personal items stashed away from eyesight. No pictures or tapestry's hung from her wall as they did in Mira's room, and her bed wasn't over-occupied with plush toys as Lissanas had once been. Lucy claimed she didn't like clutter, that it made her feel disorganized. Natsu however, suspected the blonde had trouble claiming a space for her own after so many years on the run. This had never bothered him as he always assumed she would out-grow the habit the more comfortable with the guild she became. But looking upon her empty walls he felt just as such. It turned out, her fear of never settling was still very real. All Natsu had ever given her was another home to run from.

With a deep exhale, Natsu tried to focus on his task, least he continue staring at the bed Lucy very obviously hadn't been sleeping in pre-departure. Her sheets folded neatly at the head of her exposed mattress, pillow's lacking their cases, tucked just off to the side. Her scent on the fabric nearly faded compared to some of her more recently worn clothing. He didn't want to think about who's bed she'd been spending her nights in, nor who she deemed worthy of her days. With a hearty grown he faced the closet, grabbing what he figured to be essential attire. Skipping over some of her more scandalous sets in the hope she wouldn't be too sour considering the circumstances. Except for the little red skirt he used to love, for no reason in particular, of course. He tried his best to pack her leather-bound trunk the way she would, mimicking her structure for their many travels. With her room and ensuite cleared, Natsu departed in favour of his own dwelling. The thought of Lucy's old feather-downs tracing his mind. She used to store them at the back of his closet, at least, before he left. And with the lurking uncertainty of when their guild would find a new base, he didn't want her to freeze through the colder months.

Spinning the metal nob of his door, Natsu wasn't sure what he'd been expecting come his return home, but the state of his room took him completely aback. Drawers he'd left in ruin sat repositioned on their sliders, abandoned clothes hung clean and pressed in his wardrobe and his forgotten cigarettes lay positioned neatly on his desk. But what shook him the most, was the smell. Lucy's scent, stronger than her own room; Cascading over his walls to lather his belongings, invading his every pore. His old sheets recently washed, made up his bed. The bed that too clearly showed where his missing blonde had been sleeping. Curled up in his blankets, wearing his button-downs below the covers. He could do nothing but collapse atop the same frame, chest heavy and heaving. Eye's casting to the back of his wardrobe where Lucy's garments no longer hung. He really had been gone too long.

Natsu remained motionless until Mira knocked on his door to announce breakfast with the expectation of a yes and a prompt follow. She requested he help serve the food, noting that everyone would be excited to see his face. Begrudgingly he agreed, stopping only to let Mira scrub the remnants of Dan from his cheek. He hadn't known the man, but watching his porcelain basin cast crimson as she rang her cloth turned his insides in a way they hadn't spun since leaving.

He tried his best to sport a cheerful grin towards his guildmate's calls of greeting and question, faltering only twice while serving everyone. The first had been on account of Levy's expression, a mix of sadness and relief painted over her features. The only words from her lips questioning if Lucy had heard from him yet. She didn't hide her disappointment when he shook his head, but chose not to question him further which he was grateful for. The second was when Juvia entered the hall looking nothing of herself. Sunken cheeks and bruised eyelids, a mangled frame stepping where her body used to reside. He tried to collect himself before she noticed his quizzical stare but stood blank when she threw him a week smile. She sauntered towards him, wooden cane pressed tightly in her grip. She asked him about his trip, stumbling over her words like her mind couldn't focus on a single sentence. He answered the best her could without giving too much away, knowing everyone would be updated shortly.

The morning wasted away rapidly, Natsu finding himself absorbed in the rain woman's story's of times he had missed. Apparently, she had been poisoned while out working with Gray, a virus that riddled away at her body and mind for months. He knew the situation didn't involve him, but he couldn't help the guilt soak through his pores, a feeling he was gathering was here to linger for a while to come. He should have been there for his friends, especially Gray who he'd known long enough to guess he was coping poorly. He tried to express his sympathy but Juvia practically snorted, claiming she didn't need his pity and that she was recovering fine. She didn't recoil tho, jumping straight into another story about helping Mira plan her nursery.

It was calming to hear her speak, a conversation that didn't revolve around planning for survival. It felt normal, to sit in the dining hall talking of paint colours and stuffed animals. Watching Juvia smile with ignorance of how her skin stretched over her sunken features. Listening to the dull clatter of dishware mixing with hearty laughter; his guildmates enjoying their morning coffee and bread. He longed to fall into the warmth of familiar scenery, curl up atop a wooden table with the voices of his friends streaming through his ears. Life, however, was unfair as he'd grown to learn. A lesson that had prepared him not to panic when these moments slipped away quickly. Thus, he tried to remain stoic when the hall's grand doors were thrown open, startling gasps replacing the casual chimes of the interior.

There Gray stood, alive and breathing; face awash with pure anxiety and pain. He looked rugged, blood matted through his hair like he'd been crawling through trenches. Shirt tossed aside leaving his chest exposed, a clean blade stripe painted over his torso. "We've been found!" He screeched, waving his bruised arms above his head. "Everybody, please! We need to leave!" Nobody moved, for a moment, the tone of begging so foreign on the Ice mage's tongue stunning the crowd.

Natsu's brain fell into full flight mode, straightening his spine and propelling him forward. He was about to call out, urging everyone to head Grays words and fucking move, but he too remained frozen; a woman peering over his dear friend's shoulder catching his full attention.

She looked worried, a wrinkle creasing her smooth forehead as she scrunched her brows. Her hair was longer, golden tresses framing her waist with soft curls. Brown eyes glazed with honey soaking up her surroundings before stopping over him, drinking him in for all he was worth. Her expression dissolved, masking her delicate features with a look of horror. Plump lips coiling to pronounce his name. Her voice was all he could make out over the commotion. Lucy was back, commanding his full attention like the world wasn't about to crumble around them.

Original story and bonus content found here! ↓↓↓↓

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13289933/1/Silence-and-Cigarette-Smoke

[my-sherlock221b]

Supernatural Rewatch Ramblings: Dead in the Water

This episode is the first one to be directed by Kim Manners. It was written by Raelle Tucker and Sera Gamble. It is still the MoTW format and once again the ‘monster’ is something that was created by human action. Ordinary seeming stories—of bullying, lies, cover up—with deadly consequences.

Read below the cut for more and also watch out for the add-ons by my partner in crime @soulmates-for-real​ who does the most amazing gifsets and image galleries 😎

It reminded me of this quote:

“If only it were all so simple! If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?” Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, The Gulag Archipelago 1918–1956

It is a chilling experience—both the actual monster when we do finally see it and the backstory of what really happened. These monsters are all created by the flawed human beings. Here is another quote from the same source which could well be the underlying bedrock of the two very different approaches we see Sam and Dean take in later episodes to the whole saving people hunting things.

“Since then I have come to understand the truth of all the religions of the world: They struggle with the evil inside a human being (inside every human being). It is impossible to expel evil from the world in its entirety, but it is possible to constrict it within each person.” .

Philosophical overtones aside, we are also getting more glimpses into the heads and hearts of the two leads.

It is already obvious that Dean has put the whole ‘Dad- is- missing- and- hasn’t- been-home-in -a -few-days stuff’ on the back burner till …ummm  forever ? cos he has Sammy in front of his eyes who is sitting shotgun and being completely brotherly and sniping and bitching while also being boyfriend- level possessive.

As I said in the earlier review- I was just so swept away by the swashbuckling swagger of Dean that so obviously was an armour for his vulnerability that I almost didn’t notice Sam much. This is the episode where he became something more for me. Someone who was also finding out what Dean was all about at the same time as we were.

Someone who could pull him down to earth with a sharp: ‘People don’t just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them.’

But also reach out to him and remind him that they ‘can’t save everyone’.

In an early scene in the episode Sam scolds Dean for even starting to flirt with the waitress. 

He smirks when Andrea shoots Dean down. He mocks Dean’s pick- up line about kids are the best. He seems pleased in a very petty way that Dean’s attempt has failed and that he has no choice now but to hang out with Sam and to give him his full attention.

The episode does have plot holes –that house Lucas draws and the history of the friendship of the two men and the missing boy surely must be well known to everyone in that small town, including Lucas’s mother and how come no one joins the dots etc. etc.

But small quibbles aside, we get to see that the past casts long shadows—whether sins of the past or just events of the past. ( again a parallel to the lives of the Winchesters themselves. And in later seasons we find out just how far back into the past those shadows reach!)

We see that Dean connects with the mute boy, Lucas, but then we learn that he can do this because he had also shut down after he saw his mother die and he knows how scary the world can seem and how he needed to make himself brave to carry on.

Sam watches from the sidelines and we can see him have an ‘oh ok’ moment as he stores away this information because it has clearly never been discussed in the family earlier. Kudos to Jared for being amazing with the ‘active listening’ that Sheila O’Malley references so often.

So despite Sam challenging him to name 3 kids he even knows, we see that Dean actually focusses on the kid throughout. The shared sense of loss aside, maybe Dean also sees himself as the protector of all little kids especially after the Shtriga incident. (which we don’t know anything about yet) (and we do see him bond with kids in every episode that involves kids. It is adorable !!)

In this episode Dean is almost drowning in his dad’s leather jacket and the way the silver ring looks on his hand is just ridiculously sexy…sigh….and that amulet right where it belongs…..deeper sigh. Then the cocky grin, the unsubtle flirting, all macho/manly/me- so- hetero/me- see- me- conquer on the outside but the soft squidgy child- whispering caramel centre, the trauma of being a motherless kid—having become motherless in a brutal way, a missing and probably almost cruel dad, a brother he raised as his own who walked out on him to go seek his own dreams….all these layers are being put together slowly for us.

Dean is not what he seemed to be and that brash swashbuckling exterior hides a very complex and interesting person. The script and direction were excellent of course but Jensen brought to it just the perfect balance of bad-boy + I wuv hugs.

Sam is still finding his way into the story and we are still watching things from Dean’s perspective as narrator which is fascinating to realize during the re-watch. As I have mentioned earlier, I was so swept away by Dean that it took me a very long time to focus on Sam as a separate person.

Ok, now, all together shout--- --WHY do people DO the following things??!!!

Put hands elbow deep into a sink, give lifts to obvious deranged malevolent spirits in human form, ‘let’s split up so we can cover more ground’, go into a shower/bath in a scary scene—can’t they HEAR the dun-dun-dun music score in the background?!! Sheesh.

Anyway.     *eyeroll*

In a not- at- all- very- surprising turn of events Sam and Dean’s fake identity is called out and they are asked to leave town, which they do. But ….of course Dean does a very dramatic turn on the highway and takes them back to make sure the kid is ok!

Then Sam rescues the mother from the lethal bath- tub while Dean makes sure the kid is safe. Then they start to connect even more dots and eventually we see an incredible heroic rescue scene in the scary lake with Dean and the boy.

Jensen had described this shot in some interview as the most terrifying scene he had ever done apparently because he was responsible not only for doing the scene right but also for the young boy’s safety underwater.

What a fabulous visual we do get finally, with the boy in his embrace as they shoot out of the water!

That lake with its dark water is one super creepy place. That very first scene where we see the girl swimming from an underwater perspective had me yelling at the screen for her to GET OUT NOW.

So, finally, all is sorted and revenge has been had and bad folks die, good folks live and as they leave the town of course Lucas chats with Dean and they high five and just like the sister in the Wendigo episode, the young mother in this one also gives Dean a kiss on his cheek. Dean of course blushes and goes all gruff and drives off with Sam smirking in the shotgun seat.

The pattern is beginning to be established.

I am loving it!😍

.

The gag reel of this episode shows Jensen leaping into Jared’s arms.

This is the third episode only. So they have known each other only for a couple of months at this point?! Hmm…my J2 tinhat is also shining. And also wow. I mean Jensen is NOT a tiny guy.

  Here are some other possibly more erudite and informed reviews if you would like to go down that rabbit hole like I did.

This one is cool https://the-orbit.net/entequilaesverdad/2016/05/10/supernatural-s1-e3-dead-water-summary/ and gives a fun and interesting score at the end which goes like this

Episode 3 counts:

Woman in the Fridge: 1

For Sophie Carlton being the first to get murdered by the vengeful spirit. It’s obviously meant to hook us harder: I mean, nobody would care as much about obnoxious brother Will, right?

Revenge from Beyond the Grave: 4

Sophie Carlton, Will Carlton, Bill Carlton, and Jake Devins.

Brotherly Love: 2

I had to give one to Sam for cock-blocking his brother right at the start. Another point goes to Dean’s sick-of-your-attitude lecture to his little brother, throwing Sam’s decision to go to college while Dean stayed behind with their dad in his face.

Toxic Masculinity: 1

For Dean downplaying his grief when Sam draws him out about the aftermath of their mother’s death.

Swimming in Sexism: 2

For Will Carlton’s comment to his sister that “guys don’t like buff girls.” I added a point for all the times they had Dean hitting on any available woman. They do want us to be extra-very sure he’s hetero, don’t they?

Cumulative Counts: Dean’s Man Tears: 3

One point awarded for all Dean’s choking up about Mom. We’re now three for three, folks.

.

This review totally calls out Dean LOL. I love the reviews that were written as first watch because they are without the benefit of hindsight we have on a re-watch.

.

http://markwatches.net/reviews/2013/11/mark-watches-supernatural-s01e03-dead-in-the-water/

“It was fascinating to me, then, that through this, Sam was able to learn about Dean’s own emotional reasoning behind his hunting. Of course, Dean, being the most stereotypical dude of all dudes who ever duded, has to immediately act like feelings aren’t cool because BLEH. Okay, that is one aspect of Dean that I’m not terribly interested in, especially since he expresses feelings like every five seconds. The whole “I am a straight man and I’m very straight and look at that butt straight I’m straight” thing is already exhausting because I get it. You don’t need to tell me this every five seconds.” 

The comments to this review are also super entertaining with gems like this:

“So, if you knew that someone had drowned in the lake recently and their body was never found, WHY WOULD YOU STILL GO SWIMMING IN THE LAKE? Especially if two people had. It wouldn't make you think, "Hey, maybe there's something dangerous in that lake?" This show has some of the least genre savvy people EVER. Like, for example, once this mysterious death thing shows up in a sink, why would anyone want to take a bath or really ever fill any basin with water again? Seriously, is this the Bad Decision Olympics?”

.

Here is an awesome review from Fangasm also

https://fangasmthebook.com/2021/01/13/looking-back-on-dead-in-the-water-classic-supernatural/

[atlafan]

Hey Jordan! Just finished strictly business, and I have to say I liked the way Mavis and Harry’s relationship bloomed. She didn’t take any shit from him and it was a nice thing for him to do research anxiety. Psychoeducation is really important, especially, for the people around to understand the illness.

Loved that Mavis is a boss bitch in her own way. People who are homebodies, who love to clean and cook are somehow swept under the carpet with the whole girlboss thing. Not that there’s anything wrong with hustling and and wanting to be a girlboss, just that the other side of the spectrum is looked down on.

Also, loved all the songs Mavis is singing and I will be adding bitch baby to my vocabulary henceforth ;)

Hope you are having a lovely day.

Also, I don’t have a lot of people to say this to but I got a call from my uni, and I won a medal and an award for being the highest academic achiever in graduate Psychology. I honestly don’t know how to react. I haven’t even told my parents because I haven’t processed it lol.

P. S- Sorry about the lack of feedback. I’m new to Tumblr and I’m just discovering your posts. Please take all of my love and appreciation.

I finally had the mental capacity to read this. Thank you so much for the kind the words!! I'm so happy you enjoyed the first part!

CONGRATS ON YOUR AWARD THAT'S AMAZING!!

[ask-the-royals]

I angirly stare at Damien for a moment,before pulling up my sleeves and going right up to him.

"Okay,bitch,that was the last fuckin' straw. Who the hell do you think you are?! What in the world makes you think that you can be bustin' inside here,and UNNECESARRILY be more of a goddamn bitch than any living person who could ever be. But,c'mon,let's be honest here mate,you're obviously doing it because you are sad,bored and pathetic man and your life has no meaning anymore whatsoever that you now pick on people for fun,how dissapointing. You're the goddamn human representation of a participation award,but by your looks,you don't look human but more like an amalgamation of a very angry buffalo amd porcupine. So naturally,relating to your comment on Hatty deserving a leash,mayhaps you truly are the one deserves a leash around their neck."

There was a moment of silence as Damien slowly turned to face the anon. His gaze held nothing but sheer anger towards the words the anon spewed at him. His upper lip twitched and he bared his teeth slightly but it was hardly seen due to his thick mustache combined with his beard. 

In one swift moment, he lifted his massive hand and casted a dark shadow over the anon, imprisoning them by their neck with that strong hand. He swept his feet over the ground and slammed the anon against the nearest wall, pinning the already-wavering figure of the bold anon. The wall cracked slightly just from the impact and, with his other hand, he unsheathed his blade. He held the seething and hissing sword of his, the chromium weapon sparking with electricity that danced along its surface with unkempt rage quite magnificently. 

“You pathetic little shit... You are nothing compared to me. You are lower than the dirt I walk upon.” Damien growled, lifting his gaze towards the others. He watched Hubert’s horrified expression with an unwavering stare. When he swept his eyes over Dmitri, his son wasn’t even watching, seeming afraid. Drogo had an unreadable expression, frozen to his spot. 

“Let this be a lesson to you all that if you dare speak to me in such a manner, it won’t be tolerated.” And with that, Damien lifted the blade he wielded. He kept the anon pinned as he imapled the wavering figure through their side and into the wall in an angle, cracking the wall further and leaving a gaping indent as a result. The anon, for good measure, was electrocuted by the magic Damien possessed, creating a horrific light show as the anon practically exploded outwards into dust, covering Damien’s hand in the substance. He lowered the blade as electricity parked along his body in clear irritation and, for good measure, the king kicked the dust that littered the ground. “Who’s next?” He dared growl, turning to face the others with his deep brown eyes almost shining gold.

Hubert looked on in horror, his eyes wide and his body trembling. He gritted his teeth and was unable to glance away. He met Damien’s gaze, much to his terrified dismay. 

Drogo inhaled sharply and almost instinctively stood in front of Hatty who had resided beside him. After all, Hatty was an anon. They were.. fragile.

[bisluthq]

Plus it’d be SUPER obvious if Taylor completely swept the Grammys!!! Like there would be articles EVERYWHERE if Joe had like 5 Grammys bc of her. No one likes when an artist sweeps the Grammys anyway, like they bitch about it all the time. I think that’s why all the big ticket names like Harry Styles, Dua Lipa, Taylor they all only won one award each. obviously Taylor prefers when her work is considered as a whole and AOTY is the big deal award of the night. Like this is why she was so upset that rep didn’t win. So if she has pull it would make sense she only wanted this one

but??? Why didn’t rep win AOTY? Do you think it’s because she was still effectively “canceled” and like now she’s back on top so she was able to do this? Idk it’s all sus and shady af

I think rn she is the most powerful person in music yes. She’s in a completely different spot to where she was when Rep happened. There’s a reason she’s not taking normal interviews and doing them with Andrew Lloyd Webber and Paul McCartney now. She’s the fucking boss idk.

And yes it’s shady and sus af.

[nobodyeverasked]

again; han jisung

3316 words - large

Summary: Sometimes you don’t realize how much you had until you lose it.

‘See you soon <3’, was what the text from Jisung - Y/N’s boyfriend - said, delivered almost an hour ago, right after school. Y/N could never get tired of Jisung’s texts that always sent pleasant shivers to run down his spine, ones that would resemble the circles rubbed into his skin under the veil of the starlight or the lips that danced across his neck between navy sheets - seared with desire. The night that passed through him as he walked his way to Jisung’s house day quiet, desolate over him, nothing but the moon - shrouded by swathes of dark clouds - and the faded street lights pointing in an arrowhead down the street.

His breaths, once full with hope for it to mingle with his boyfriend’s, went still though as he reached his front door, muffled sounds bursting through the windows that rest on the second floor. He thought that those sounds only rested between their sweat-soaked chests, and under the glaze on the moonlight. He thought that his room was a safe space, that his thin, white drapes were a gate that only opened for each other.

It could just be the television, Y/N thought as he pushed himself through the threshold of Jisung’s front door. He always kept it locked. It was the paranoia that bubbled in his stomach, what would leave him to ignore something that would always get him out of bed to check every night? Y/N’s heart burned, not with the love as he gazed into Jisung’s eyes. It wasn’t fire, but a poison, one that ached in his chest and billowed through him already as he turned the corner and wound himself around Jisung’s staircase. The noises were getting louder. 

“Y/N!” Jisung cried as the pulsing beneath the sheets screeched to a halt, and hums of full-hearted pleasure - between Jisung and somebody who wasn’t Y/N… Who wasn’t the boy he pledged his love and loyalty to - stopped as soon as the door creaked open. “I-I.”

Someone else was in Jisung’s arms, Y/N’s second home. Someone else was stripped to their skin, tapestries of violet passion decorating their bodies that Y/N thought were special, were just between them. Yes, there were times that Y/N didn’t think he deserved a blessing like Jisung in his life, but apparently, blessings could only last for so long until they become a curse.

“Why…?” Y/N could only choke out, a smokescreen of sadness overwhelming his senses, his head was pushed under-water, his ears rang with a dread that plunged into his chest and ripped his heart apart with cold, weathered hands. “Was I not good enough for you…?”

“NO! Wait! Y/N pl-”

“On second thought, don’t answer that, you’ve made your opinion very clear.” All the perpetrator could do - their body cloaked in shame, a sheet that only used to bind around Y/N’s form draped along their shoulders. The flames of Jisung’s admiration now stained their cheeks and clung to their neck, a feeling that used to run sweetly on his tongue but turned bitter like ash. The flame in his heart that always burned for him was stifled under Jisung’s feet, the ones that Y/N would always stand on to meet him eye to eye and plant blooming pecks onto those lips that were always waiting to feel his own.

Was his lovestruck stare stolen by them too? Auburn gemstones of pure, untainted beauty now suspending another person’s reflection. The only time Y/N could ever truly see himself now distorted by someone else's image. 

Tears dripped down his cheeks and burned into his skin, following his footsteps as he ran right out of the house and into the breeze that grew colder with every hitched breath that scratched at his throat and burst through his teeth. He kept his sobs muffled between hands -soaked with tears, drenched from the pool of sadness numbing his senses - as he rushed back to his home, one he knew would never leave him.

*

He couldn’t stop looking at his phone as it blew up with texts that he knew were from Jisung. Texts that he wished meant something now, the texts he hoped were not just a hollow shell of words and feelings encased in a sapphire bubble of meaninglessness. The light of his phone that pierced the tears staining his sheets taunted his anguish, beckoned his anger. The sparks that were festered between Y/N and Jisung’s hands as they walked each other to their classes and pressed each other up on random lockers started to wash away with the tides of grief overtaking his body. The metal of the lockers will never feel as warm as it used to without Jisung’s warm, loving gaze rested upon him.

Was that fake too? Y/N’s constant questions to the ceiling that tried to muffle his cries to the moon kept him awake throughout the night, his consciousness trudging through the starlight leaking through the window.

*

“Where’s your bitch?” He wishes he could say that to Jisung’s face when he stopped by Y/N’s locker, but those lips still seized his eyes - run dry from tears - still held the secrets they murmured to each other under the watchful presence of the twilight haze, still painted tapestries of adoration on his skin with his cherry chapstick. His hands, now bunched together in a pleading knot of desperation still sculpted Y/N’s body with every time they kissed under the sunset and smoothed across his cheeks as their tongues danced with the waves that brushed against their ankles.

That was the worst thing of all, to Y/N, Jisung was still Jisung. The man who swept him off his feet in the ninth grade. And the blissful toxins of Jisung’s cologne will always be lodged in the back of his mind - even if it did not linger on his skin anymore.

“Y/N, I just need to explain-”

“Han Jisung,” Y/N has never used Jisung’s full name like that, not with the sour tones of anger and betrayal he knew he deserved to taste. How could he even try to explain what he did to Y/N, the only person who ever understood him? “You don’t need to explain anything, okay? It’s time for me to move on, you obviously have already…” 

With one last glance - the sparks of brilliance in Y/N’s eyes that Jisung used to count every night they spent together as he pulled back from his magnetic lips, faded - Y/N brushed past the man who he gave his entire heart to, poured his emotions through tightly sealed lips that only Jisung could pry apart with his gentle tongue. He tried not to turn back to the touch that grazed slightly between them, knowing that those very hands he tried not to reach for molded someone else’s body and worshipped another’s hips - and altar that wasn’t Y/N’s. 

Jisung let his head fall on the locker beside him, regret boiling at the back of his throat. The sadness he tried to bite back under the fluorescent lights of the hallway flowered in his stomach, and the white-tiled floor - marred with Y/N’s retreating footsteps - he felt like it swallowed him whole. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t live knowing that he made a mistake that would cost him the man he never knew he took for granted. He found out too late.

He never realized how much he had until he lost it all.

*

It was that time of year again, where the frigid air clawed through the doors of the stadium that would soon house a flurry of dancing lights and rumble with the chorus of deafening screams. It was time for MAMA, an award show that garnered attendance from some of the most esteemed groups - Stray Kids was only one of them.

The snow covering the ground in a lustrous, ivory veil crunched beneath Jisung’s boots as he followed his other members inside. Everything seemed to be colder since he didn't have the arms of his ex-boyfriend - Y/N - to ignite the fires of admiration in his veins anymore. The air bit their fangs deeper, and the winds scratched harder. A day has not gone by where Y/N didn’t either haunt or bless his dreams - he couldn’t tell anymore - and lament the one decision that stripped the hands that made him feel at peace, the lips that drowned his sorrows in tides of cherry chapstick. The impulse that broke more than his and Y/N’s heart, but fragments of his spirit too, he could never forget the other man’s skin running beneath his fingertips, no matter how hard he scrubbed, or wash the flavour of their skin from his tongue. Little did he know that he would be looking into the oily gaze of his demons once more. 

Y/N’s group was invited as well.

Y/N became a member of a group under YG, one that valued his skills and appreciated his presence. His group gained prestige quickly, through the haymakers upon the charts that their debut songs threw and the diverse, charming attitudes and personalities of his fellow group members. The privilege of being under an entertainment company as large as YG brought this group of five boys to MAMA in their debut year, this stage is yet another pit-stop in their blazing trail of glory.

Thoughts of Jisung’s hands still pried at him from under the sheets and leaked through the pillows he shoved off his hotel beds. His desperate gaze leaked off the faded moonlight, scratching through the drapes with a plea for forgiveness. Sometimes he wished he could take him back, shout that everything’s okay over the streets and shores separating them. But something always held him back. Always slapped his hand away from the shining lights of his own mercy.

As Y/N walked backstage - some time before his performance - worry clouded his chest, but something more than the velvet blazer framing his body pushed his lungs in, drained his breath before he could draw one. An ignited flame nipped at the back of his head, and it only burned hotter as a hand rose to rest on his shoulder, ripping the sigh from his tongue. By the air alone he could tell exactly who it was. The softness of that grip that once admired every inch of his body, the symphonies that those very fingers played from his heartstrings. He could remember it all - as if two years that numbed the taste of their skin never passed.

“Y/N.” Jisung tried to say, a shakiness in his voice evident as he tried his best to look at those locks of hair he wished he could tangle his hands in once more, and comb back from the forehead he would plaster with kisses. 

Y/N could not respond with more than an acknowledging glance, his heart lodged in his throat. Jisung continued anyway, thankful Y/N dared to look him in the eyes even after all he’s done.

Jisung soaked in the starlight embraced by Y/N’s eyes, ones filled with such emotion and unfamiliarity that almost shook him to his core. Looking at his distorted reflection in the gaze that once hung lovestruck under him let the jaws of guilt sink their fangs into his head once again, all the distraught-ridden questions he asked himself when Y/N walked away on that fateful day resurfacing, washed up on the shores of his mind. 

“I just wanted to wish you good luck, you’re gonna do great b-” He paused, trying to scale the awkwardness towering between them. “You’re gonna do great Y/N.”

“Oh… Uh - thanks-”

“C’mon, Y/N, let’s go!” Y/N voice - once bellowing with happiness and affection - now barely cracking the whispers that would dance in Jisung’s ears under the rights of the twilight. Y/N’s group leader bound around the corner, sighing with relief when Y/N came into his view. “We’re heading on in five, the stylists wanna do a checkup.”

With that, Jisung watched as the leader wrapped his arm around Y/N’s shoulders and brought him towards the stylist. An uneasy breath bubbled in his chest and thrashed between his clenched teeth. Wondering if anything could be the same, he dug his nails into his palms, wishing for Y/N’s lips to kiss away the marks they made.

The marks he has made.

*

Jisung sat there during Y/N’s full performance, constantly throwing away and thinking of new ideas on how to talk to Y/N again after so long, how to make amends for all he’s done and repair the damages he made. Some thoughts led him to wonder if he even could rebuild the bridge he burned to the ground himself - if he deserved forgiveness?

With the stopping of the music dragging him out from the tar of his doubts, he straightened out his jacket and bit back his deep breaths. He didn’t know if he was ready to face him again and to look into his eyes once more without feeling the embers of guilt scorch him from the inside out.

As soon as Y/N came around the corner, hands threading through sweat-soaked hair and a proud simper spread along his lips that Jisung wished he could make brighter. He pulled Y/N to the side, the gasp of shock washing over deaf ears.

“Y/N, can we please talk…?” Jisung managed to muster those words out, glad that Y/N’s mind was open enough to acknowledge what he was trying to do. “Pl-”

“What’s there to talk about?” Y/N already knew what he was getting into, but he needed closure, a reason. He hoped Jisung was going to give it to him.

“Please, I just need to explain everything…”

“Fine, my van arrives in ten.” 

This was Jisung’s chance to make everything right, to hold his hand tighter, to say ‘I love you’ ten times more - no - a thousand. To never take this man for granted ever again. The lights of hope glimmered at the end of the tunnel.

“I’m… So sorry… It was stupid and impulsive and all of me doesn’t know why I did it. I regretted it as soon as we pulled away, and I realized what I was doing - without a reason why. You’re my baby, you were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I’m a fool for letting you go, letting you slip away.”

All Y/N could do was stay silent, mouth parted in awe as Jisung poured everything out to him, the echoes of agony ripping through every single word and the regret scraped off his tongue igniting the air around them.

“All I want- no- need. Is one more chance. Please, Y/N.” Jisung knotted his hands together, nearly falling to his knees. “I want to prove to you that I’m still the Jisung who fell in love with you in ninth grade - the Jisung who made a mistake so stupid it cost me one of the most important people in my life.” Tears tripped over Jisung’s lashes, the ones that would flitter against Y/N’s cheek every morning they spent together - conquering the hours of midnight with the video games they never managed to finish. 

The tears carved rivers down Jisung’s cheeks and burned his skin. Y/N could barely hold the urge to kiss them away, just like he used to in his fondest of memories, their deep talks under the neon lights of the sunset never fading from his mind even now. Sunsets that sealed their most cherished secrets with a coral tinted wax.

For Y/N, everything started to resurface, all of the pleasant memories that he tried to banish over the last two years, the reflection of the blessing, his blessing Jisung, that never shed its skin of perfection after all he’s done. All of the special times shared under the sky - cradling words of adoration ever since their first date - couldn’t let him do anything but crack a small smile through his lips. He realized that some things are too good to let go. 

Some things deserve second chances. 

“J…” Y/N choked on Jisung’s name, the man before him making him want to be taken by those beautiful lips, whose smile would brighten even the darkest of his nights and would whisper sweet nothings into his ear as the sun set below the rooftops of their town. Those that would brand his skin with the flames of euphoria, and would light the sparks of desire faded under his heart. 

He wants… So bad… To be enveloped by his embrace, to feel their limbs entangle under his sheets - drenched by the moonlight, the twilight haze dripping over their lips and painting a tapestry of passion along their amalgamating bodies. The arms that would wind around his waist and would never let go, and the legs he would edge himself between as they sat on their bed, skin running soft under fingertips, conversations running amply through the night.

He wants to feel Jisung’s heartbeat through their heaving chests, the symphony that would relax him during stressful times, whenever his deepest doubts would resurface to drag him back into the shadows of grief. Y/N longs for the loving heat that blooms from Jisung’s chest - burning hotter than the summer encasing some of their most cherished secrets - again. 

Jisung did nothing but leave his expectant gaze hovering on Y/N’s lips. He wants to hear those words, words of forgiveness, of love that he wishes he could take back and keep in his arms until the day he dies.

“...Okay…” Y/N’s couldn’t think of what to say, everything that Jisung said bursting in his head. His words stuck in time. “One more chance, I realized it’s the least you deserve. If you genuinely recognize what you did, Then I’ll forgive you… I just… I don’t wanna be thrown away - again - please…”

Jisung barely knew what to do with himself, half of his expectations already whipping his body the other way, looking back to only see Y/N’s. But his fantasies came into a reality, his wishes to reclaim the man he loves being granted.

“Thank you so much, Y/N…” Jisung instantly rushed into Y/N and swept him up into an embrace. The arms draped silently around his neck feeling so ancient, awakening flames that should have died in the cold under Jisung’s covers. “I promise. Y/N. I will never, ever even think about leaving you again. I’ll prove to you that everything I said is coming from the bottom of my heart.” Jisung murmured into Y/N’s neck, the scent of his skin driving his mind crazy, and the smile he felt molding against his chest making his own that much bigger. “I’ll be with you and only you from now on, for as long as we’re on this planet. I love you, Y/N.” Jisung’s waited so long to say that, to spill his love into three words that were caught in his throat the day he made the biggest mistake of his life.

“I love you too, Sung.” Y/N cupped Jisung’s cheek, plush skin under and between his fingers searing his fingertips with the searing heat of devotion. The lips that pressed a peck to his palm letting a giggle spiral from between his teeth.

Their flourishing smiles weaved together, lips locked between languid tongues and pulsing with the rhythm of the dancing lights of adoration writhing in their hearts. 

The long-lost desire to feel Y/N in Jisung’s arms again eclipsed his mind, flooded his touch with the flames of devotion. The only thing that matters to him is the treasure held between his arms, entwined with him in a windstorm of ecstasy and happiness.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Stark’s New Intern” Chp. 10

Summary:  Caught between two friends, Erik finds himself caught with a third...

NSFW. Mature Audience.

Me Can you focus on me? Baby, can you focus on me? Me, me Can you focus on me? Baby, can you focus on me?

H.E.R. - “Focus”

Erik sat between Giselle and Athena at the round booth table they were seated in at a seafood restaurant overlooking the Santa Monica shores. Tony ordered lobster platters and fresh New England chowder for their meal.

Tony got down to business talking about his expectations for New York and the women were focused on him instead of each other. After they finished the first course of clam chowder, Maria joined them and Erik gave a sigh of relief. Maria had a way of making people comfortable with her spastic energy.

Erik almost didn't recognize her when she swept in.

Dressed in a black tuxedo dress and midnight black boots, Maria looked beyond sophisticated. Even her hair was slicked back in a chic way, reminding him of when her tresses were wet in the pool when he kissed her…

For a second, Erik forgot about Giselle and Athena and even Tony, his eyes taking in Maria's visage. She looked good. Real good. Sitting next to Tony, Maria handed him an envelope and he tucked it inside his blazer pocket. A waiter brought over a tray of Oysters Rockefeller and while everyone dipped in to savor the goods, Maria finally looked at him, and her face looked stressed.

Tony allowed Erik to have a glass of white wine with everyone else and most of the talk was food and vineyards in Paris. Athena and Tony compared favorite wines, and Erik could tell that Giselle was stewing. So did Tony.

"So…you two know each other well?" Tony asked.

Athena took a sip of her wine and glanced at Giselle.

"From school," Athena said.

Her voice was cool.

Tony looked at Giselle who looked super annoyed.

"Frenemies," Tony said while pouring more wine for himself.

Maria watched the two women and then she glanced back at Erik. The mood was icy and not improving. Erik decided to change the topic.

"You look real fancy, Maria," he said.

Maria smiled at him.

"Maria is going to be giving a presentation this evening for the Los Angeles Asian American Business Alliance in a couple of hours. You all set?" Tony said.

"Yes," Maria said.

"Love that dress," Athena said.

"Thank you. It's a cocktail mixer and I'm going to talk about the internship and my experience with it so far," she said.

"You look lovely, Maria," Giselle said.

"Thanks."

"I'll be right back, restroom break." Erik said.

He stood up and moved past Athena. His bladder was calling.

"I'll go myself," Giselle said, following him to the back of the restaurant.

"Yo, what's the deal?" Erik asked.

Giselle stood near the ladies' room and her face looked cross.

"I fucking hate that bitch," she said.

"Why?"

"She and I used to be friends. Tight as hell back at Brown University. Before we graduated, I applied for and an overseas fellowship in Paris to study. Kicked my ass trying to get letters of recommendation and worked hard to get this thing. My mistake was telling Athena about it. She applied for it too. And she got it."

"Maybe she was a better candidate—"

"She called her father who pulled some favors. She didn't get it on merit. I know that for a fact. She just wanted to go to Paris and have that on her resume."

Giselle's eyes were in full kill mode.

"I hustled so hard. During my interview, I was told that I was a top candidate. She knew I wanted it, didn't even tell me she applied for it until after she was awarded the damn thing. She saw me putting in extra effort for a whole year…"

"Don't get bent out of shape over it now. That was the past. You're here with Tony—"

"That's just it, I know her ass didn't earn this spot like everyone else. I know her father is tight with Stark. I know it was just another quick phone call. Just like Wes, and all the other mediocre people who leapfrog over people more deserving."

"Don't let her steal your thunder in front of Tony. It makes you look bad. Do you really think she used her Dad to get her here? Tony doesn't seem like a dude who would go for that. You gotta have real game to get this internship."

"You know what sucks? She and I were like sisters. This cut me so deep, Erik."

"Y'all can't salvage your friendship?"

"Would you?"

Erik shrugged and dipped into the restroom. Giselle was still standing outside when he came out.

"Ready to go back?" he asked.

Tony was spinning a tale about New Zealand and Maria and Athena looked enraptured. Dinner seemed to get everyone back on track. Giselle ignored Athena for the most part and when the meal was over. Erik was asked to join Maria at her event.

"I'd like to attend," Athena said.

They all ended up going.

###

Maria did well.

More than well.

Erik didn't know if it was her clothes, the way Tony fawned over her in front of the event coordinators, or how Maria answered questions from the audience with sass and excited zeal. She was funny, endearing, and so fucking ready for any and all questions. Tony was asked to come up and say a few words, and the Asian audience ate up his words too. Later, as the mixer got into full swing, Maria stuck by his side. So many people came up to ask her more questions.

"Oh jeez," Maria said.

Two women and a man walked over to Maria.

"Maria, didn't recognize you for a second."

The name tag on the woman said, Yuna.

"Hi. Yeah, it's been a minute," Maria said.

Erik noticed Maria's countenance changed quickly. The confidence she had earlier was gone.

"Erik, this is Yuna, Paul, and Sooh-Ha."

They looked at Erik's clothes and his face and were about to brush him off when Tony sidled up.

"Maria, Erik, I'd like you to meet some people," he said.

Erik and Maria followed Tony, and Erik heard Yuna, Paul, and Sooh-Ha following them.

"Erik, Maria, this is Mr. Huang of TBS Corp. Mr. Huang, these are my two top interns…"

Tony bragged on them and Erik could see the others looking at him different. He wasn't just a random Black guy to ignore. He had some status. A bit of clout. Typical.

Erik and Maria showed off to Tony's delight, and Erik found his eyes wandering to Athena and Giselle who were talking amicably it looked on the other side of the room. He was curious to know what they were working out. Tony guided Mr. Huang to another group of business owners and Erik led Maria to the open bar. The clout chasers followed them.

"Maria, Joseph Kim is here," Yuna said. Her eyes sparkled when she said the name and Maria's lips went tight.

"Who is that?" Erik asked.

"Nobody," Maria said.

She picked up a glass of wine. Erik grabbed a coke.

"Your face says different," Erik said.

"Joseph!" Yuna called out.

A tall Korean man walked over carrying a plate of food. A smile spread on his lips when he saw Maria.

Maria tried to turn away from him, but she was stuck next to the bar table. She ended up bumping into Erik's side.

"Maria," Joseph said.

Erik recognized the look on Maria's face. He'd seen it himself on enough women he'd broken up with or dogged out. This dude had hurt her. And that pain was still there inside of her.

"Hi," Maria said.

Joseph's eyes looked her up and down.

"I didn't recognize you until you started speaking. Working for Stark must be amazing."

"Yeah, it is," she said.

Joseph glanced at Erik. They were the same height.

"How is your family?" Joseph asked.

"Everyone is great," she said.

Maria looked like a shrinking violet.

"Joseph and his wife just had a son," Sooh-Ha said. There was a smirk on her lips.

"Congratulations," Maria said.

Joseph beamed, and Erik wanted to punch him in his bland smug face.

"Since you work for Stark now, maybe you could put in a good word for me. I applied for a position in his San Francisco office," Joseph said.

The unmitigated gall. Erik felt his jaw clench.

"We better get back to Stark. He has some more people for us to talk to."

Erik held out his arm for her. Maria pushed back a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned into him.

"Nice seeing all of you again, but our boss calls."

"Good luck with that application," Maria said.

Erik steered her away from them and he felt Maria relax. They went to the other side of the room and stood near Tony as he spoke to a group of older women with a ton of questions and picture taking.

"Thank you," Maria said.

"I could tell they were bugging you. A nobody, huh?"

"Ex-boyfriend. He broke up with me to marry someone who was not Filipino and too Black for his family."

"Too Black?

"Yeah. My father."

"It was like that?"

"Yep."

Erik noticed Giselle stomping away from Athena.

"Excuse for a moment," he said.

Threading his way through the crowded mixer, Erik stepped to Athena who looked a bit shaken.

"Hey. Everything okay over here?" he asked.

"Never better," Athena said trying to brush him off.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really…"

Her eyes connected with his. She gave a sigh and leaned against the pillar she stood next to.

"I used to think Giselle and I would run the world together. She was the bestie that I dreamed of having. But now…she just thinks I steal things that don't belong to me like I don't work for stuff."

Athena's eyes flicked over his shoulder, he turned to see Giselle at the bar ordering a drink.

"She thinks I'm like these white boys out here. Always a phone call to Daddy to make things happen."

"Is it true?"

"Fuck no."

Erik felt his lips quirk when she cursed.

"I don't even like my father. We aren't even on speaking terms. Haven't been since I left Brown. She just…she makes wild accusations. Assumes too much."

"That's what y'all were going in about?"

"She doesn't think I belong here. But I do. I worked hard to get here and I worked for every fellowship I ever received."

"The one in Paris?"

Athena's eyes bored into his.

"She told you about that?"

"Said she told you about it and you stole it from her."

"I didn't steal it. She told me about the program and the company had twenty fellowships throughout France. The entire country. Twenty slots. I applied for the fellowship that matched my studies the same as her. I even turned in my application weeks after she did, almost missed the deadline waiting for a recommendation. I had to do six different interviews before I even got picked. In fact, I didn't even get picked until another candidate dropped out for a family matter."

"She says your father made a phone call on your behalf—"

"My father didn't even know I applied. I did it to get away from him and my family."

Athena's eyes were watery.

"I miss my friend…"

Athena wiped her eyes and Erik moved in to block her from spectators.

"Did you tell her all that?"

"Yeah. She doesn't believe me. Doesn't believe I earned my spot here. I told Tony not to even tell my father I'm here, let alone applied for a spot. She's just so damn angry and not trying to listen to me. I have never lied to her. I have never tried to sabotage her aspirations. I was always her biggest cheerleader. Been there for her through her darkest times…even when she had a—"

Athena pulled away from the pillar.

"Shit. I've been drinking too much. Talking too much…"

She glanced at her watch.

"How long is this thing? I'm ready to go."

"I can take you home."

"On a motorcycle?"

"Lyft."

Erik pulled out his cell and texted Tony.

"I let Stark know I'm escorting you back."

"Escorting me?"

"Looks like you need a friend to do that."

Her eyes dropped from his.

"I don't have very many friends, Erik."

"Let's bounce."

###

Erik ended up taking the vibranium with him to New York. It got through customs without alerting the metal detector.

He flew first class with Maria, Athena, and Giselle, along with five other interns hand-picked by Tony to attend the event. Their hotel was V.I.P. status all the way and their first night in New York was spent finding a club that Erik could sneak into. They ended up staying at the hotel bar lounge where the waiters assumed Erik was of age like the others.

Athena and Giselle were on their best behavior. Erik tried to get Giselle to talk to Athena, but that was tossed aside. Erik knew it was a misunderstanding. He believed Athena. But Giselle needed to have a villain to blame for something she wanted badly. He tried pushing up on Giselle, tried to get her to loosen up while they were away from the office, but she curved him.

Maria took a liking to an intern who seemed genuinely intrigued by her. Erik played the overprotective older brother and mean-mugged the white boy as much as possible to keep him on the straight and narrow. He seemed to get the hint and treated Maria well.

"What are you daydreaming about?"

Athena caught him sitting in the hotel gym, the stationary bike he was on far from spinning wheels.

"Tony has me hosting the children's day opener. I was just thinking about how I was when I was that age. I had this robot I entered when I was like nine, and I got pretty far. I was thinking about what I would've wanted to hear from somebody working for Stark back then."

"That's so cute. A robot."

"Got a certificate and everything."

"Did you come to the convention?"

"Nah. My family had to deal with some stuff so I wasn't able to go."

He watched Athena step onto a Stairmaster and start a program. Her gym clothes were form-fitting and he couldn't keep his eyes off of her curves and the deep cleavage in her work-out tank. The girl was bad, no lie. He started cycling and looking down at the mileage he was putting up.

"You had a chance to talk to Giselle?"

"Nope. She's still ignoring me."

"Same."

"You two…?"

"Was trying."

Athena smiled.

"What's that smile for?"

"She keeps her eyes on you."

"I'm tryna get more than that."

"Alright now."

Athena laughed and it made Erik smile.

"Them dimples are deadly. You'll wear her down soon enough."

"It's been almost three months. This gig is about to end and she ain't budged. Not happening."

"Perhaps if she weren't messing with Cameron she'd be all over you."

"That buster."

Erik rolled his eyes.

"He's cute. Has a lot of personality."

"And I don't?"

"Yours is more volatile. A little rough around the edges. That's not her style."

"I think it is. She got a little taste."

"Ooh…a little taste?"

"I mean…she knows what I'm working with and she seemed to like it."

"You slept together?"

"Nah…just a little touch and feel—"

"Okay…stop. This is none of my business. I'm sorry I started the convo."

"No you not."

He stepped off the bike once he hit his target. He joined her on the Stairmaster next to her for his cool down.

"I can't figure her out. She's hot and cold with me."

"Maybe take that as a hint. Find someone else."

"Would you go out with me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Too young."

"That's a cop-out and you know it. Y'all keep settling for weak dick then—"

Athena burst out laughing.

"You laugh, but when you ready for that deep dick, you come holla at me."

He stepped off the machine a walked out of the gym.

Athena was still laughing.

###

Erik was drinking bottled water when he heard Maria fumbling with her key card trying to get into her room. He stuck his head out to tease her for being drunk when she couldn't open her door.

"You know it's bad when you can't get into your own room with a card—"

Her eyes were red and her face was streaked with fresh tears.

"What happened?"

Her hands dropped to her sides and Erik ushered her into his room and sat her on his bed.

"Maria?"

"Kevin—"

"He hurt you?"

"No…I…we…"

Her voice shuddered.

"Take your time."

She nodded at him.

He poured her a glass of water from a fresh bottle in his mini-fridge and she drank it down. She smoothed her dress and pushed her hair back from her forehead.

"I thought it was the right time for Kevin and I. We've been seeing each other for the last month and…I guess…I wanted to and…"

"And?"

Erik felt his stomach tighten. He was ready to fight.

"We had sex, and it wasn't good. It wasn't what I thought it would be."

"So it was consensual?"

Erik felt himself relax a bit. He unclenched his fists.

"Yes…oh God, yes…I don't want you to think I was forced. I wanted to do it."

She wiped her eyes.

He wanted to know why she was crying so hard about it.

"You have regrets?"

"I should've waited. I like Kevin well enough. It felt right at first. But it was missing something. Thank God it didn't last that long. I left the moment it was over even though he wanted me to stay the night."

A knock on his hotel room door interrupted them. He answered.

"Hey, we still on for dinner?"

Athena was dressed and ready to head to the hotel restaurant. She wore a snazzy black blouse and skirt. Dinner and then some clubbing afterward.

"Yeah…about that, Maria is having a moment and I'm—"

"Hey, Athena!"

Erik opened the door wider so Maria could see Athena.

"Hey, Maria. What's going on?"

Erik let Athena in. It would be best to let another woman handle the situation.

Maria looked at Erik. Then she looked at Athena.

"Maria…why don't you go take a shower and change and come with us to eat—"

"How did your date go with Kevin?"

Athena had a look on her face that let Erik know that she knew the extent of Maria's date night plan.

"Not so good," Maria said.

"Oh, honey…"

Erik opened Maria's conjoining door.

"Go get dressed. We'll talk at dinner," Erik said.

"I'll wait for you two downstairs. I want to keep the reservation," Athena said.

"I won't take long," Maria said.

Athena left and Erik put on his shoes and some brand new cologne.

A soft knock on his inner door let him know Maria was ready. She walked in looking cute and bubbly again in a slinky green dress.

"Ready to go downstairs?"

"Yes."

He turned to go open the main door and Maria hugged him tight around the waist.

"What's this for?"

"Listening to me. Not being grossed out by me talking about it. Not judging me."

"Sex is always different with different people. It's not easy the first time."

"Was it for you?"

"Hell yeah."

Maria rolled her eyes.

"What I mean is, I wanted to do it and I was ready to do it with whoever. But I was hella young. Fifteen. I was just all poke and stroke. I wasn't thinking about my feelings afterward. I was thinking about getting better at it with the next girl. I didn't know any better."

"I'm sure you were better than Kevin. He had his eyes closed the whole time, and it was like I wasn't even there. It was like he was screwing a sex doll."

"How are you feeling physically?"

"Okay. It didn't really hurt. But it seemed so fast. Is it always fast like that?"

"Um….nah, it depends. On who you're with and where you are—"

"I thought there would be more kissing. He kissed very little—"

"We should probably leave."

His hands stroked her shoulders and she placed her head against his chest.

"I'm glad you were here so I could vent."

"Me too."

He pushed back from her gently and when her eyes looked up at him, he felt a little funny.

Funny enough to lower his head and kiss her on the lips.

But not the way a friend would.

###

Chapter 11 Here

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[bellatrixobsessed1]

why people do women wrong? it's always the man that gets good. I mean: Pansy Parkinson-no development. Still evil bully Claudia-turn bad, no redemption Azula-from bad to worse, no redemption. Only regina and kuvira have a redemption (kuvira does not deserve it) The others stay bad, insignificant. // From bad to good,redemption. Draco Zuko Soren What i learned is that women are worse than men. Do you know what I mean...

This one is a little tricky for me to answer because I’m not sure if I agree or disagree. I’ve seen a lot of media where the female characters are treated awesome (I’m thinking of the heavy girl power shows; Winx, W.i.t.c.h., Totally Spies, KP, etc.) But then there are some where the treatment isn’t so great. I can see why you’d say so but I think I kind of lean more towards saying that it isn’t a gender issue so much as I have a habit of latching onto and getting attached to characters that aren’t particularly well liked by the creators and/or fandom.

The reason I don’t think that this is a gender issues is because we do have characters like Regina and Kuvira (personally I do think that she deserved it, I’m a rather staunch Kuvira supporter lol) are proof of that. We also have Shego  from KP (who in the very final episode, if I remember right) ended up having a hand in saving the world. She and Drakken ended up getting an award for it (again it’s been a while since I’ve watched that tho so I could be wrong). Regardless she was pretty consistently humanized throughout, and sometimes shown in a more positive light. More recently, Icy from Winx finally got a backstory that painted her in a more sympathetic light. Pretty sure she also helped the good guys in the finale (it was kinda unclear because I watched the Italian version and I don’t speak Italian). This was particularly astounding to me because up until then the writer seemed to really not like her lol. And of course we have Regina who has, what I think, is one of the most amazing redemption arcs out there. Her sister got a redemption too and so did Ursula and Maleficent. Anastasia got one. In season 7, Cinderella’s step mom got one. Even Cora got a little redemption arc and she was one of the meanest bitches int show lol. Say what you will about Once, but a good lot of their female villains turned good (and if they didn’t they were humanized). And then there’s Kuvira who also got a redemption, even if the execution was somewhat rushed.  Acxa is also a good example. Again, say what you will about Voltron, but Acxa, Zethrid, and Ezor all got receptions and ended up fighting for the good side. There were even scrapped plans to make her the pilot of the yellow lion. Hell, Haggar got some humanization at the very end. She was eventually portrayed as a woman who just wanted to be reunited with her son. 

So I think that there are many examples of shows where the females (and female villains) are treated well. Enough of them, at least for me, to safely say that I don’t think it’s a gender thing.

At the same time characters like Azula and Isabella are the reason why I can see why you’d say female characters are done dirty. Azula especially seems to get poor treatment even from the authors when her situation is very similar to Zuko’s and literally every other character gets sympathy by the gallon. But tbh I think that it’s more of the fandoms than the creators. I’ve noticed that with Isabella, for example, her brother, Guy, gets a lot of love and sympathy and everyone seems to love him. No hate on Guy, because I like him too. But Isabella is an abuse and an (implied) rape survivor. And she went from good to evil to good again and then back to evil where she stayed and died. It has been a while since I’ve interacted with that fandom, but I know that back when it first came out, everyone hated her and there was like no sympathy for her even when she was good. I think that it’s because they saw her as a replacement for Marian and so they did that ship war thing where they hated her for getting in the way or whatever. I’ve actually stumbled upon an outright hate fic or two about her. 

Regina also got so much hate from the fandom. I’ve noticed that a lot of people liked to praise Hook and excuse a lot of what he did, but they’d constantly demonize Regina for similar stuff. Like before her redemption the fandom (at least the portion I talked to) hate this hate boner for her and would constantly shit talk her at every opportunity. Back when I fought everyone who disagreed with me I remember constantly getting into it with a handful of Rumple fans who would hate on Regina for being a killer while simultaneously dismissing and justifying the murders Rumple committed???? 

Azula, I feel, has become the fandom’s punching back. She and Zuko both have the same father and were exposed to abuse from him. Different kinds, but still abuse. They were both kids. But for some reason Zuko’s negative actions (as a result of his abuse) tend to get swept under the rug while Azula’s are always discussed. I think that it has a lot to do with that Zuko did get his redemption. But at the same time I’ve noticed quite a few people justifying some of the bad things he did in the past while knocking Azula for doing bad things. 

I also think that it might have  to do with Azula being realistic. I know a lot of people who say that they see people they don’t like in Azula and for that they can’t like her. Which is fair enough. I have a few characters that I don’t like because they remind me of people I don’t like. 

As for Claudia and Soren; I’m not caught up with DP. But I feel like Claudia is going to be redeemed. I think that Aaron might be treating her as Azula but with a redemption. But I’m also kind of skeptical because there’s speculation that he was lying about the whole ‘plans for an Azula redemption’ thing, which is a whole other matter that I’m not even going to get into right now. I think that with DP we’re just gonna have to wait and see how Claudia is handled. 

Bottom line I feel like fandoms tend to be harder on female villains than male villains. I don’t think that its necessarily the writers. And even then I’m not quite convinced that it is simply because they are female, because I have seen quite a few female villains get lots of love from the fandoms. And despite it all, Azula does get sympathy from the fandom and I’ve seen several people who don’t particularly like her, say that they at least feel bad for her. I think that it’s just kind of easier to pay attention to the hate than it is the the love sometimes. Because one unkind comment tends to just really stick out among positive ones. Hateful comments also tend to have more of an impact than kinder ones. 

TL;DR While I can see why you’d say that female character are done wrong, I think that I lean more towards it not being a gender issue. I think that there are many factors as to why certain female characters get less sympathy while others get more. I hope all of the above made sense. 

[fierypen37]

The Oasis: Chapter 14

Sorry of the long absence, my friends! Enjoy!

Rage was an acid burn in the back of his throat. His hands shook with it. He staggered into the bathroom, holding a dishtowel to his throbbing eye. That tricky little cunt! How had she held onto that pen knife? Ramsay let the soaked towel thump on the bathroom counter, watching thick drops of blood patter in the sink.

“Fucking Lorathi bitch,” he muttered, peering at the damage in the rust-spotted mirror. It was a fucking miracle that whore Shae hadn’t blinded him. The pen knife had sunk in and stuck just above his right eyeball, jiggling around in the socket.  Each jiggle sent a bolt of white-hot pain arching through his skull. Under normal circumstances, if a target had pulled something like that, Ramsay would have taken them home. Played all sorts of fun games with them until they begged for death. Shae’s little stunt had surprised him though, and he’d snapped her neck.

Too quick.

Not to mention he didn’t get the answers his boss wanted. Add to that leaving buckets of his blood at the crime scene . . .

Ramsay snarled a string of foul words. He held a wad of petroleum jelly-soaked gauze in one hand. With the other, he grasped the hilt of the pen knife. Pain arched like lightning through his skull. The blood made the handle slick. A quick yank---fuck! His hand slipped. Ramsay bit down on the bloody dishtowel and yanked again. The penknife fell free along with a hot trickle of blood running down his face. His boss wanted that bitch Daenerys Targaryen dead, and Ramsay never forfeited a contract. Her and Jon fucking Snow would die slow. Ramsay would flay them living, like his ancestors before him. Just because one lead had burned out didn’t mean the trail was cold. Just like his beautiful vicious dogs, he’d pick up the scent. It was just a matter of time.              

 ~

 As the sun set, there was little to look at to occupy her mind. Just darker landscape framed against a dark sky. Nothing but an eerie stretch of highway lit by the car’s headlights. The silence within the car was leaden. She couldn’t find words to ease the tension. Barry was dead. He’d been a steady, comforting figure in her life. He’d been her father’s bodyguard since she was a toddler—the only one Vis held in any esteem. So when they at last had enough capital to require and afford a security detail, a then-retired Barry Selmy was first on their list.

Daenerys felt the press of Jon’s anxious glances. Her misery deepened. Jon. Gods, what danger had she put him in? If Barry Selmy, a decorated war veteran and professional bodyguard couldn’t stay alive around her, then what would happen to Jon?

“We’re still about twenty minutes from the cabin. Maybe try and rest,” Jon said. A half dozen snarky comments rested on the tip of her tongue, but she bit them back. She was too anxious to sleep, too miserable to be any sort of companion.

“I don’t think I can sleep.” Her voice sounded weak and small. Daenerys studied his profile in the murky half-dark. A frown lingered on his brow, his generous mouth thinned into a hard line. Jon glanced over at her, his eyes as black as the sky beyond.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. Daenerys blew out a steadying breath.

“Well, De—Detective Seaworth said that Rakharo is doing ok. Vis is safe; he’s staying at Dragon with his security detail. Missy and her husband Grey are ok. There haven’t been any more threats or leads. And . . . and Barry’s family are t—taking him home to Harvest Hall for burial.” Tears clogged her throat. Going over it in such bloodless detail made it sound so bleak. Her life was in fucking shambles. Jon reached for her hand. Daenerys wove her fingers through his, squeezing his hand gently.

“Hey, it’ll be ok. They’ll figure it out. It’s their job,” Jon said.  They drove in silence for a time. The tires made a low whoosh against damp pavement.

“Did the detective say anything else? Do you know if anyone’s been by my apartment? Checked on Sam and Gilly?” Daenerys thumped her forehead against the window. What kind of self-centered ass was she? Jon had no less at stake than she did.  

“I’m sorry, Jon. Yes, they’re fine. The detective has a Watchman stationed at your apartment complex just in case.” Jon tugged her captive hand up to drop a kiss on the back. His beard was a ticklish counterpoint to the softness of his lips. The casual intimacy of the gesture made her heart flutter.

“It’s ok. You’ve got a lot on your mind.” The silence that followed was a warmer one. Daenerys groped for conversation.

“How long has it been since you’ve been to the cabin?”

“I came north for Bran’s nameday, but that was at Winterfell. The cabin . . . hm, it’s been six, seven years? Since before my dad died.”  Daenerys felt a pang. Orphans, the both of them. Ned Stark’s death had been all over the news, but Daenerys couldn’t remember the details.

“Was he ill?” she asked. A muscle fired in Jon’s jaw.

“Brain aneurysm. He died on route to hospital.” The suddenness of it was couched in the abrupt sentence. Much like her own father’s death by violence. Like Barry.  

“I’m so sorry, Jon.” He gave an uncomfortable shrug and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

“It’s ok. It was a good trip. The last time we were all together. Sansa came home for the weekend, Arya had just graduated and was headed to uni, Robb brought Margaery and her brothers, Bran was finally finished with physical therapy and Rickon won a sailing medal on the lake.” Daenerys blinked in surprised pleasure.    

“Rickon sails? What type?”

“Uh I’m not really sure. A fast one?” Daenerys giggled at Jon’s aggrieved expression.

“I sail too. Does she have a cabin? Is she designed to sail on open water?” In the greenish light of the dashboard, a trace of a bemused smile graced Jon’s face.

“I think Rickon’s boat is . . . sloopy?” Daenerys snorted.

“Sloopy?” Laughter embroidered her voice. Jon grinned and offered a one-shouldered shrug.

“I don’t know anything about boats.”

“Does he still sail?”

“Not as much. His mother has him enrolled in one of those prep schools for college.”

“Is this the same stepmother who denied you your inheritance?” Daenerys asked. Another uncomfortable shrug was her answer.

“The same,” he said. Daenerys kicked herself. The stepmother was a touchy subject. She couldn’t imagine what it had been like growing up as a motherless boy despised by the only female role model left in his life. Chewing on her lower lip, she offered a tepid apology.

“Don’t sweat it. I’m used to dealing with her,” Jon said, squeezing her hand. Daenerys stroked his knuckle with her thumb. Jon negotiated another turn.

“We’re here at last.”

The pitted concrete road gave way to a smooth asphalt drive. ‘Cabin’ was apparently a relative term. A two-story log structure lorded over neatly manicured grounds. A balcony wrapped around the second floor. Daenerys looked around slack-jawed as the two of them parked and walked up the drive. The lake was a sheet of black glass roughly a hundred yards from the house. Threads of mist clung to the ground. The air smelled of crisp pine and lake water. Insects chirped and far away, she heard the hoot of an owl. The cool peace of it soaked into her soul.

“So, the ‘cabin,’ huh?” she said, framing the operative word in air quotes. Jon cracked open the fake rock holding the spare key, side-eyeing her with a raised brow.

“Is there a problem, ‘Dany Steele?’”

Daenerys snorted.

“Fair point.”

The door creaked open and Jon flicked on the light. Daenerys trailed after Jon as he moved toward the kitchen, drinking it in. Warm blond wood floors, exposed beams overhead, soft lighting, gleaming granite countertops in the kitchen . . . the understated beauty soothed her ragged edges. She turned at the sound of Jon’s low curse.

“What is it?”

“Robb and Margaery. They stocked the place for us, and they uh . . . went a little overboard,” he said, riffling through the fridge, “filet mignon with truffle butter, roasted asparagus, lobster, turtle soup, chocolate covered strawberries--” The subtext was clear: decadent food for a romantic getaway. Daenerys bit back a rush of surprised pleasure. Even if it was meant in a teasing manner, it was a tacit approval from Jon’s brother.

“I told them all we needed some food and clothes. Typical,” he said dryly. Daenerys chewed on her lower lip. In the heat of passion, he claimed her as his. In the cool of parting, he asked her on a date. Why is he so irritated now? Breaking the silence, she cleared her throat.

“Mm, clean clothes sound wonderful. I think I’ll take a shower,” she said. Jon took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. His expression softened.  

“Of course. The master is on the second floor, last door on the left.”

The rest of the house was as rustically chic with polished hardwood floors, stained glass windows, and glass doors leading to the balcony garbed in room-darkening curtains. The large bed beckoned, smelling faintly of laundry detergent. How sweet, they thought to change the linens.  Shopping bags on the dresser bore a post-it note with ‘Daenerys’ written in looping feminine script. Daenerys peered inside.

“‘Overboard’ is right,” she said under her breath. Inside was a heap of blouses, sweaters, jeans, socks, sneakers, heels, and a tangle of what could only be described as slutty lingerie. A flush washed over her. A note was pinned to a sheer black lace bra:

Daenerys,

I got you a couple different sizes. I hope our Jonno is treating you right. Robbie and I would be delighted to have you both out at Highgarden once all this mess is dealt with.

Warm Regards,

Margaery      

Daenerys breathed a soft laugh, clutching the note and bra to her chest. A giddy rush burst in her chest. How surreal could things get? She was on the run for her life from a shadow human trafficking organization, she’d been swept up in the arms of her god-like masseur-turned-bodyguard Jon Snow, and now Margaery Tyrell—an award-winning actress—was buying her lingerie. Daenerys plucked her favorites from the bag of goodies and hurried to the bathroom.

Twin vanities in granite countertops, rustic sconces over the large oval mirror, a faint tang of cleaning chemicals. Robb and Margaery really had thought of everything. The shower boasted two shower heads, the walls made up of grey river rock. Blissfully hot water undid the knots in her muscles. The nature of her life and work made finding female friends difficult, she thought as she shampooed and scrubbed. Even Missy who she considered her closest friend was her masseur at first. So the thought that someone like Margaery Tyrell would be interested in her relationship with Jon was an odd one. Cherishing her crush on Jon, it was easy to spin a fantasy of making their leisurely way south. Stopping at charming bed and breakfasts on the way, taking a barge down the Mander, a wine tour of the Reach district . . .

She stepped out of the shower and toweled off, taking special care to comb and moisturize and primp with all the lovely products Margaery left for her. Ah, the silky glide of high-end moisturizer. It felt good to blow her hair dry until it fell in a fluffy silver cloud around her face. The lingerie was she chose was robin’s egg blue stretchy lace panties and matching bra. Daenerys smiled coyly at her reflection. In between all the madness of being on the run, they hadn’t discussed little things like Jon’s favorite color. Would he like it?

Belting the sash of a terry cloth robe, she saw the heap of her discarded clothes. A thrift store shirt and bloodstained jeans. Stained with Barry’s blood. The happy bubble popped with startling violence. The cost was too high. Already an innocent woman had been violated and killed, then Barry, not to mention the countless people—including Jon—put in harm’s way after the attack in King’s Landing.

“Am I really worth all this?” she asked her steam-blurred reflection. The shadows in her violet eyes held no answers. A soft rap on the door made her start.

“Come in,” Daenerys said, clutching the folds of the robe tight to her chest. Jon appeared in the doorway, his curly hair damp. His dark eyes were fathomless behind the lenses of his glasses. The plain grey t-shirt stretched taut over the bulk of his shoulders, athletic shorts showed off the length thigh and calf. He really was more beautiful than any man had a right to be.

“Do you uh, have everything you need?” he asked. Daenerys hid a rush of hurt. When he suggested the master, she assumed they would be sharing a bed. But maybe time to cool off is what they needed. After hearing about Barry, gods knew she felt depressed and clingy. Not a good look for her.

“Yes, thank you,” she said. Cool and polite, she thought, inwardly congratulating herself. Jon lingered in the doorway, cracking his knuckles one at a time. A nervous habit, she’d noticed.

“Are you hungry? It’s probably a crime in culinary circles, but I could nuke some of the steak.” Daenerys grinned at the weak joke.

“I’m fine, just tired.”

“Right. Me too.”

A short, uncomfortable silence.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.”

It wasn’t until he turned to leave that her thin bravado gave way. As inviting as the bed looked, the thought of the long hours until dawn with nothing but her thoughts to occupy her made her stomach clench. That, and she’d gotten far too used to the sound of Jon’s heartbeat lulling her to sleep.

“Jon,” she said. The naked hope in his face calmed her worries.

“Stay. Please,” she whispered. Jon exhaled a breath and gave her a relieved smile.

“Of course. I just didn’t want to impose . . .”

“Impose? Are you joking? We’re standing in your family’s cabin and I’m wearing clothes your brother’s girlfriend bought for me. If anyone is imposing, then it’s me,” she said. Jon closed the distance between them and cradled her cheek.

“You’re worth it,” Jon assured her. Daenerys felt a big, stupid smile stretch her face. She turned into his hand and kissed his palm, tasting salt. A shy silence fell between them as they turned down the bed and drew the curtains. Daenerys slid into the bed with a happy sigh. Cool sheets over a downy mattress and a heap of pillows. Better than simple creature comforts was the underlying release of tension. Here the two of them were safe. Safe and hidden in their own private paradise. Jon’s gaze wandered over her with a familiar sleepy heat.

“I like the clothes,” he whispered huskily, trailing a knuckle over the lacy strap of her bra. Daenerys gave him a coy smile.

“Really? Does it give you any ideas?” she said. Jon’s hand disappeared beneath the duvet.

“Lots of fun ideas,” he said with a wicked smile.

[onestowatch]

Who Is 2021’s Best New Artist?

The 2020 Grammys are a wrap. Long live Billie Eilish. An absolute run-away year, Eilish and her brother FINNEAS swept the “Big Four,” taking home “Record of the Year,” “Album of the Year,” “Song of the Year,” and “Best New Artist.” Only the second person in history to accomplish such a feat, the first being Christopher Cross in 1981, the 2020 Grammys will likely be remembered as some not-so-clever portmanteau of Billie Eilish and Grammys. 

And not to toot our own horn but did we predict Eilish sweeping the Grammys? Absolutely not. No. We’re not psychics, but what we lack in crystal balls we make up for in pretty great guesswork. Eilish topped our “Best New Artist” prediction list last year, in addition to Maggie Rogers and ROSALÍA who were also nominated for the category. 

READ: The Best New Artists of the 2010s (According to the Grammys)

So, with the 2020 Grammys behind us, the only question on our minds is who is 2021’s “Best New Artist?” We’ve gone ahead and narrowed down some likely candidates below, but, in all reality, chances are it is someone who will go viral on TikTok in the next six months.

Conan Gray

In terms of meteoric pop success, Conan Gray may very well be the next Billie Eilish. In just over a year since releasing his debut EP, Sunset Season, Gray has risen to the top echelon of pop wunderkinds. The only thing seemingly missing from a proper Grammy run is a debut album. Well, all of that is about to change. March 20 will see Gray release his highly-anticipated debut album Kid Krow, and here’s hoping it will also see some love from the Grammys.

Doja Cat

The GRAMMYs may have to begin finalizing their list of Best New Artists far ahead of time, but, in our hearts, one of 2020’s Best New Artists was undoubtedly Doja Cat. From becoming a breakout act with a music video that looks like it was filmed in her room on iMovie to releasing one of the most versatile hip-hop offerings of 2019, Doja Cat stands as one of hip-hop’s greatest provocateurs. Everything she touches turns to gold, so isn’t it only fair she earns some in return? The gold in this sense being a six-pound gold-plated zinc alloy known as a Grammy award.

Alec Benjamin

Truth be told, sometimes we are just too early for our own good. Last year saw us heralding Alec Benjamin and his perfectly-crafted, storied worlds as a likely contender for 2020’s “Best New Artist.” While little of our praise changed in the ensuing year, it is seeming far more likely that he is a contender for 2021’s “Best New Artist.” With his much-anticipated debut album, These Two Windows, set to release April 3, 2020, could 2021 be Benjamin’s year?

Summer Walker

Atlanta’s Summer Walker follows in the footsteps of R&B icons Jimi Hendrix, Erykah Badu, and Amy Winehouse to present a velvety smooth vision you cannot help but lose yourself in. The tail end of 2019 welcomed the release of her debut album, Over It, which saw collaborations from the likes of Drake, Bryson Tiller, 6LACK, Usher, and more. As one of R&B’s evident stars to be, it is only a matter of time until Summer Walker makes her Grammy debut.

Kim Petras

Kim Petras is a veritable pop star. From her anthemic music to her captivating persona, every aspect of the pop sensation is larger-than-life. Pure, unbridled, cathartic music that nods back to the towering heights of early ‘00s pop giants while still presenting a forward-thinking vision for the genre aka the exact makings of a shoo-in for a 2021 “Best New Artist pop” act. At times, it feels like Petras is only one radio-hit away from the Grammys finally taking notice.

070 Shake

070 Shake is an artist without limit, at least that is the immediate impression you get when listening to Modus Vivendi. The acclaimed debut album out feels like a world unto itself, navigating the precarious inner psyche of an artist battling an existential crisis. The emotional highs and lows come in spades. The only constant is 070 Shake’s distinctive, hard-hitting vocals. And with both Def Jam and Kanye West’s G.O.O.D Music behind her, it would be no surprise to see a Grammy nod on the horizon.

King Princess

There is a raw sincerity behind the marvelous pop music of King Princess. Inspired by the likes of Dolly Parton, Perfume Genius, Beyoncé, and Nick Cave, the Brooklynite is shaping up to be a similar lasting cultural icon. Her universally-acclaimed debut album, Cheap Queen, arrived as an exploration of the one-of-a-kind artist, drifting between blues, indie rock, and an unmatched pop sensibility. And with a phenomenal debut under her belt, 2021 may just be the year the Grammys welcomes this indie icon. 

Baby Keem

Baby Keem is poised to be 2020’s breakout rap star. The Las Vegas native has found fans and collaborators in the likes of Kendrick Lamar, ScHoolboy Q, Beyoncé, and more. A single listen to his highly-praised sophomore mixtape, DIE FOR MY BITCH, begins to paint the picture of one of hip-hop’s most promising up-and-comers. Effortlessly flowing between melodic hip-hop and transfixing trap, Baby Keem is gearing up to make one hell of a Grammy debut.