#but he's not going to upset the careful balance he's maintained for years!

[fiercynn]

high school patpran who goad each other into an argument about who's a better kisser but instead of testing it out on each other, pat claims they need an "objective" third-party arbiter

pran is hurt that pat doesn't want to kiss him and annoyed at himself for being hurt and tries to hide it (meanwhile pat genuinely thinks this is a competition and that it has to be "fair"), so he shoots back "well i don't like girls, so kissing the same girl isn't a good data point"

pat is briefly surprised but then shrugs and says "fine, we'll find a guy to both kiss then" and then pran is surprised but isn't able to think of any other excuses. so they find a guy who is willing to be their guinea pig and they both take turns kissing him

teenage pat's kissing style is a little sloppy, but in a good way; he likes to kiss with his whole body, and the dude's hair is all messed up when he's done. (pran is obviously trying his hardest to both watch and not watch while they make out and it is doing DANGEROUS things to him)

when it's pran's turn, his style is different: slow, controlled, like he wants to take his time with it. the guy shivers a little and leans into it. (pat has...some feelings about watching pran kiss someone. bad feelings? his stomach kind of hurts. it's probably just nerves, worrying that pran will beat him. even though he doesn't usually feel nervous like this, usually competing with pran amps him up)

the dude, who has been to school with both of them for years and absolutely knows what's good for him, says what he's been planning to say the whole time: "you're both so good, it's a tie!" and flees with the candy they promised him for refereeing

and they are left staring at each other, both realizing they should have expected that outcome. pran rolls his eyes at pat. pat smirks and says, "well, i guess we're the only ones who can decide this, huh?"

and then they make out and fall in love and compete with each other for the rest of their lives the end.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for breaking up with my boyfriend because he likes my body?

TW for ED but please hear me out:

My bf (30m) and I (28f) have been together for a little over 5 years. When we got together I had an extremely stressful and physically demanding job. Shortly after our relationship started I relapsed with an eating disorder that had been a problem since prepubescence; I started restricting heavily at age 11 and had struggled with it on/off since then.

After quitting that terrible job and regaining some agency in my life, I spent a couple of years really focused on recovery. Without giving specific numbers (cause triggering) I'll say that I was extremely underweight to an unhealthy level for at least a year and experienced severe health complications because of it. I nearly died from heart problems and had a big wakeup call that caused me to change my whole life. I've done the work of recovery without medical help (history of omission with doctors) but have had support from my bf, and am currently at the highest weight of my life.

at a recent checkup my Dr talked a lot about "healthy lifestyle" and mentioned my weight gain over the past couple of years. I'm still within the "normal" range for my height and build, but the after visit summary/chart notes denoted risk of becoming overweight. Idk if my Dr would have brought it up if my history of ED was in my chart, (and I did switch primary care practices a few years ago, so they weren't treating me at my thinnest) but it still shook me a bit and I will admit to feeling very triggered.

The job I moved to is quite sedentary compared to the previous terrible one - I wfh, and very rarely have to be on my feet or do strenuous activity. In addition, I have chronic pain issues that make exercise difficult, and so historically have just restricted to maintain/lose weight because it's easier for me physically to just be hungry than to work out. I didn't want to go down that road again though because of how intense and scary it got last time.

My bf is a personal trainer and specializes in working with low ability clients and people recovering from long illness/injury. When I told him that I wanted to start exercising more often and get a good cardio routine going, he was really excited and started immediately putting together an "action plan" (what he calls it w his clients idk) for me. Then he mentioned how I'd need to add on a bunch of meal supplements and snacks to avoid losing weight and I got upset.

We're a plant-based (vegan) household and live with a roommate (bf's friend) so mostly eat/cook communal dinners and have various breakfast & lunch plans on hand, so we already eat pretty healthy and make sure to have a good balance of macro/micro in the meal plan. My intent was to eat the same but increase my activity level to get out of the danger zone without restricting. I don't generally snack and rarely eat dessert, just the 3 squares.

I told my bf that I needed to lose weight and be more active according to my doctor, and that I wasn't comfortable with having protein supplements, smoothies, and snacks in addition to regular meals because that would defeat the purpose. He got really sad and said that he likes the way my body is now, and while he supports being more active, he doesn't want the size of me to change. His exact words at some point were "you look so good now, I love the amount of you that there is and I like the way you jiggle." It kind of made me feel sick and wonder if he has like a secret size fetish or something?

So I've been thinking of breaking things off with him and moving in with a friend or back in with my parents, but idk if this is actually a red flag or just the disorder talking? He did help me a lot with recovery but if he's going to keep me from being healthy or wants me to gain even more weight then maybe it's better to leave - would this be an asshole move? I honestly don't know.

[delulujuls]

friends don't know how you taste | ms47

hi! i know that i have a lot of second parts to write, like for example for this one, but i just cant write other stuff when i am having particular ideas in mind, ya feel me? but dont worry, i remember all of the requests and i will write them in the sooner than later future, i promise!

but here comes the mick schumacher's one and i hope that you will enjoy this while waiting for the next parts for other shots, so bon apetit!

summary: when you are in love with your best friend and only alcohol can untie your tongue to reveal your feelings

warnings: reader being drunk, mentions of alcohol usage

pairing: fem!bffreader x mick schumacher

"Careful, watch out."

The tipsy giggles intensified as Mick steadied his friend's waist a bit more securely while they exited the elevator on the correct floor.

The girl struggled to maintain her balance, and despite being upset when her friends ordered transportation to the hotel for her, she was delighted when Mick turned out to be her ride.

"We're almost there, you're doing great," he reassured her.

Occasionally, he glanced at her, wanting to ensure that the alcohol wasn't taking a negative toll on her. She, however, was in great spirits, giggling and being very talkative.

"When they told me to go back to the hotel because 'I've had enough,'-" she mocked one of her friends, hiccuping, "at first, I got mad. But when I saw it was you who came for me, you have no idea how happy I was to see you!"

She stopped and embraced him, hugging tightly. Mick chuckled softly and reciprocated the hug. He knew he was in for a rather amusing evening with his friend, whom he had no intention of leaving in such a state, even though he could see that she had indulged in one of those harmless ways that shouldn't lead to any harm. Nevertheless, he wanted a clear conscience.

"I'm happy to see you too, liebling."

The girl lifted her head, smiling at his face. Her mascara was slightly smudged, her eyes sparkling, and a wide smile stretched across her rosy lips. Mick returned her smile, looking at her affectionately. She looked charming, staring at him like a painting in the middle of an empty hotel corridor.

"Liebling," she repeated, trying to mimic the German accent, "am I your liebling?"

Schumacher laughed, hearing her feigned accent.

"Of course you are."

She giggled again and hugged him once more. Shortly after, they managed to reach her hotel room. Mick closed the door behind them and seated his friend on the bed. She immediately sank into the soft mattress, feeling everything around her spin. Mick put her purse aside and took off her shoes.

"We'll get you into something more comfortable, okay?"

"Just say you want to undress me."

She joked, giggling. Mick chuckled and shook his head. He was genuinely curious about what interesting things he would learn from his intoxicated friend, with whom he had been friends for many years, and who had never made him feel that there was anything more than friendship between them. However, with alcohol, the girl always became more open, and whenever he was around, she enjoyed his company. Mick decided to play along.

"No, absolutely. After all, we're just friends, right?"

He said, taking off her leather jacket.

"Friends, just friends," the girl sighed heavily, sitting down with difficulty, "of course, as you wish, liebling."

Mick laughed when she again used the term he often called her, this time with an exaggerated German accent that amused him.

"Do you even know what that term means?"

"Liebling?"

"Mhm."

He said, squatting by her suitcase and looking for something for her to change into. As he searched through her clothes, to his surprise, he came across his own T-shirt, which she must have borrowed from him at some point. He smiled to himself. It fit perfectly, being a bit too big for her and, as a result, comfortable.

"Of course, I know."

The girl snorted. Mick stood up and approached her again, holding the T-shirt in his hand.

"So, tell me, and I'll get you changed, okay?"

The girl nodded, a shadow of intense contemplation appearing on her drunken face.

"Liebling," she said again, with the feigned accent, "means darling."

Mick smiled, squatting down and unbuttoning her pants.

"That's right, it means darling."

"I'm your darling?"

She asked, looking at him. He lifted his gaze, and their eyes met. His once amused blue eyes suddenly became serious, and the girl's intoxicated, gleaming eyes also became a bit more serious, too. Nevertheless, a smile still lingered on her face.

"Am i?"

She repeated the question, but Mick couldn't bring himself to utter a word. However, he thought that the next morning, his friend probably wouldn't remember half of the evening, so why worry about what he would say? Even if he revealed his long-hidden feelings to her now, he could gauge her reaction even if it wasn't positive. Everything would return to normal the next morning. He decided to take the risk.

"Of course, you are, liebling."

The girl smiled. Mick returned her smile. He took off her pants and tossed them aside, leaving his friend in just the top and underwear. He stood up and handed her the T-shirt, which she clutched in her hand.

"Can you manage the rest? I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"You promised to dress me, so you should keep your word."

She said confidently, looking into his eyes again.

"However you wish."

He replied softly, smiling slightly. He took hold of the bottom of her top and carefully removed it. He tried not to stare; that would be impolite. He grabbed his T-shirt and helped her put it on, tucking her hair behind the collar.

"We'll remove your makeup now, okay?"

The girl nodded and pointed to the bathroom. Mick disappeared for a moment, returning with micellar water and cotton pads. He sat next to his friend, looked at her face, and warmly smiled at her, sweeping her hair from her face and tucking it behind her ears. The girl closed her eyes and nestled into his hand. Mick stroked her cheek with his thumb, looking at her affectionately.

"You have pleasant hands. I like your hands."

He chuckled softly.

"Is there anything else you like about me?"

He asked, after a moment, taking a cotton pad and soaking it with makeup remover. He placed one hand on the back of her head and gently started removing her makeup with the other.

"I really like your eyes," she said after a while, without hesitation, "they're beautiful. Like the sky on a summer afternoon."

Mick smiled, hearing that comparison. With careful movements, he swiped the cotton pad over her cheek.

"I love your smile. And your laughter—whenever you laugh, you brighten everything around you." As she said this, she smiled herself. Mick couldn't hide his own smile.

"God, I think there's nothing about you that I don't like."

"Really?"

He giggled, taking another cotton pad, and he applied it to her eyes.

"Although, no, there's one thing I don't like about you."

"I'm all ears then."

"That you haven't made me Mrs. Schumacher yet."

Mick smiled. For a moment, he worried if he had missed something.

"Would you like to be Mrs. Schumacher?"

"Oh God, yes!"

She replied without hesitation, making him laugh. He set the cotton pads aside and leaned in, examining her face carefully, checking if he had done well in the task entrusted to him—removing her makeup.

The girl bit her lip, watching his face.

"You're doing great. This is the moment when you give me a kiss."

Mick was taken aback by her confidence. Even though, he looked into her eyes and smiled.

"Like this?"

He asked, touching her cheek and kissing her. He felt her smile against his lips, deepening the kiss. Although her lips tasted like alcohol, the kiss was filled with emotions. Not wanting to overdo it, he intended to pull away, but she grabbed his hoodie and pulled him closer.

After a while, they separated, but their foreheads were still pressed against each other.

"You have no idea how much I like you."

Mick confessed quietly.

The girl laughed softly.

"And you're telling me this now, when I'm drunk?"

"You probably won't remember it in the morning," he replied, stroking her cheek, "so I'm not worried that it will change anything between us."

"And you don't want anything to change?"

Mick sighed and lowered his gaze, leaning back a bit. He took her hand in his.

"You're drunk, baby."

"No, not at all."

She replied quickly, but hiccups got the better of her. Mick smiled, stroking her hand with his thumb.

"I'm afraid you won't remember anything from this conversation tomorrow."

"Answer me, Mick," she said, looking into his eyes, which were now avoiding hers, "you don't want anything to change?"

He looked at her. He felt that this joking conversation had taken on a completely serious tone. So, he decided to go all-in.

"I'd like to stop pretending that I only want to be your friend."

The girl smiled.

"So let's stop being just friends."

Mick was about to say something, but she kissed him again. Despite the taste of alcohol from her lips, he also felt the taste of change.

After all, friends don't know how you taste, right?

[esggs]

Obeisance to the Arrow - Noritoshi Kamo

#7 : Jealousy, Jealousy  

[Who are you calling 'onii-chan'? And why does Noritoshi hate it so much?]

[tw: noritoshi kamo x reader, arranged marriage, forced marriage, child marriage, mentions of adultery, couple slurs ig, jealous and pissed noritoshi, reader gets a crush on a non-noritoshi entity, fluff]

#6 - Husbandly Duties #8 - Ice-Cream Date

Noritoshi Kamo was nothing if not a responsible man. If he’s been given a wife to be responsible for, he’ll damn well make sure that he’s doing it properly. It doesn’t matter that the said wife is 14 years old. That’s why he’s already halfway through ‘Raising A Strong Teen Girl: Tips and Tricks for the Single Mother’ in the Kamo library, only two days after the wedding ceremony. Noritoshi Kamo, as we asserted earlier, takes his responsibilities seriously. 

The family is still mad at him for agreeing to Gojo’s demands yesterday. But what’s done is done: you will be attending Jujutsu High. In a week, in fact. The best way to proceed, Noritoshi believed, was to arm you to do your best there. 

You’re scrolling through Instagram when Noritoshi sits on the sofa next to you. Just as the book says, Rule 1: Always maintain a comfortable environment with your difficult teen. “Morning” He greets you. You ignore him. Fucking brat. “Alright then, I see you’re busy. I had some extra dango I wanted to share, but I can-”

���- I’ll have it.” Your attention is still on your phone, but at least you’re talking to him. The book’s working. Rule 2: Offer incentives for good behaviour. 

“The dango comes after though. We have to talk about your schooling first.” 

“UGH!” You look at him with such disgust in your eyes. It’s okay, Noritoshi, she just lacks proper communication skills. Remember, you're the older one. Be calm, be calm… “Fucking fine! What’s there to talk about?”

It must be noted here that this behaviour was reserved only for Noritoshi. With the servants you were kind. With the elders, you were polite and obedient to the bone, having been training to be so since childhood. And with the young Kamo kids, you were jolly friends. 

You weren’t stupid though. Your relations with the above mentioned people were set in stone. With Noritoshi, you know, that the relationship you set when your marriage is still raw will set the tone of your relationship for the rest of your lives. If you were to behave with subservience now, he’ll expect you to lick his feet forever. No, now is the time to be difficult, to upset the power balance, to get the upper hand – 

How the fuck did I get stuck here?

Noritoshi is droning on and on. You’ve lost track a good while ago. Ancient sorcery clans…past users of Distillation… respectable martial arts for nobility…Kamo heritage…proper curtsies…student discipline… Everything that Noritoshi deems important for you to know, he's making sure that you know it. He's even got the whiteboard out.

At least you can chew on the dango Noritoshi gave you. You simply nod along to whatever Noritoshi is saying, not hearing a word, happy to be given dango. From Noritoshi’s point of view, even though you’re not participating in his lessons, you’re still acting decently. Rule 3: Expect only minor behavioural improvements over time. You're not snappy; your husband is happy enough. 

Or so he thought. Why then, is he watching you giggling and playing around with, of all people in the universe, his goddamn half-brother?

—-

Miyumi, the wife of Noritoshi’s father, never extended her open and visceral hatred of Noritoshi towards you. She’s been like a caring aunt to you all your life, helping you adjust to the Kamo household when you first stepped foot in there, letting you go without doing any chores, and supplying you with as much freedom as she could vouch for. Like most of the Kamo women, she pitied you too. 

Of course, not a drop of that pity extended to Noritoshi. Not only was he constant proof of her husband’s adultery, he had also replaced her son, Kanato, as the rightful heir. Unlike most Kamo couples, Miyumi and Noritoshi’s father had actually married out of love. She had remained in love, devoted, beautiful, caring, high-status, respectful, obedient to him all her life, even bearing him a firstborn son– only to be replaced in one fell swoop. And by whom? A low-class non-sorcerer whore? With a dirty little kid simply because he could toss some blood around? 

Miyumi couldn’t even bear the sight of Noritoshi.

She didn’t mind hearing you complain about him though. She liked it when you visited her chambers, she liked talking with you. After so many years, she knew that her hatred was pointless, but the inertia of the hate did carry her forward in this stifling household. As she poured you another cup of tea while you talked about Noritoshi’s newfound determination to be a (boring) teacher who only talked about martial arts without actually letting you practise it, Miyumi smiled and called for her son. 

“He’s just back from Oxford for a week, he’s studying political history there. You haven’t met him, I suppose, little one?”

You shake your head. “I haven’t, Miyu-chan.”

Kanato’s heavy footsteps on the wooden flooring herald his arrival. 

You remember this moment for the rest of your life. Kanato Kamo, your first ever crush. Tall, lean, angel-faced, short hair dyed blonde, wearing pearls on his neck and opals on his fingers, eyeliner on his thin eyes, and a piercing above his smiling lips. Why was he walking in slow-motion? Why did your heart jump when he petted your head? Why did his voice sound like rich dark chocolates when he asked you to call him ‘onii-chan?’ Why… why does his face look so much like Noritoshi?

Your husband, Noritoshi, and his half-brother, Kanato, both look exactly like their father. Even though Kanato is a thousand times cooler and he’s in college and he wears his yakuta like a prince and you call him ‘onii-chan’ and he says he’ll teach you how to spar hand-to-hand.

Miyumi is pleased that you two get along well. Kanato chuckles at his mother's adoration for you, promising with a wink to take great care of you. You think you almost swoon.

—-

For one, Noritoshi didn’t know that Kanato was back home. Two, he definitely didn’t know that Kanato was back home to fool around with his wife. Why then is he now watching you giggling and playing around with, of all the people in the universe, his goddamn half-brother?

“Kanato.” Noritoshi slides open the door to the training rooms. It’s pretty big, stored with various weapons, targets and dummies to practise with, and lined with a soft mattress to break falls. Noritoshi was just here to shoot some arrows when he chanced upon this scene. “I did not know that you were here.”

All three of you noted that Noritoshi called his elder half-brother by his name. Yes, Noritoshi did rank higher than Kanato, but he was still younger in age. So it’s like that, huh, Noritoshi?

“It’s a big house, Noritoshi-san. It’s hard to keep track of everyone.” Noritoshi watches as Kanato winks at you and you laugh again, a blush on your face. (“Everyone, including your young wife.”)  “I was just teaching my little sister here the basics of karate. Since she’s going to Jujutsu High and all.”

“I see.” Noritoshi’s voice is measured. For the first time, it clicks in your head that he might not be happy seeing you so comfortable with his half-brother. And for whatever reason, you actually feel a little bad about it. “I’ll finish her lessons today then, Kanato. Why don’t you go rest a bit? You'd need it, I presume.” It’s clear that there’s bad blood between the brothers. Both just toe the line between politeness and hostility. 

“Presume less, little brother, you worry too much about me. I’m afraid I’ll have to finish her lessons myself, though.” Kanato grins wide. “Since she asked me to, herself.” 

For a second, you think they’ll throw hands (they don’t). You’re starting to think that it isn’t even about you. They simply cannot stand each other. In that case, you choose to pipe up, “I think I’d like to retire actually, I’m tired. Thank you for the tutorial, onii-chan.” You smile at Kanato, who returns the smile, and turn to appease your husband. “Noritoshi-san, if you could help me to my chambers?”

“Of course.” Noritoshi gives you an arm. You wave Kanato good-bye as you walk down the long corridors to your room. As soon as you two are out of earshot, his words bite. “Antagonising me will get you nowhere.”

You get it, really. Kanato’s very existence ruffles all of Noritoshi’s feathers. And to see him get this questionably friendly with his wife… yeah, it’s best not to mention the crush at all. You decide that even though you haven’t done anything wrong per se, but it’s still hurtful to Noritoshi. All right then, you decide. I’ll humour him this one time. 

So imagine his surprise when he actually hears you apologise. You've never been anything but rude or indifferent to him; to hear you say that you didn’t realise how your actions looked on the outside, and promise that you won’t be like that again! It genuinely shocks Noritoshi out of the sulky angry mood he’d slipped into. Rule 4: Always reward any good behaviour. 

Noritoshi gets you two things: another plate of dango and a promise to teach you to spar himself. Maybe, you decide, cheeks full of sweet dango, it’s okay to be nice to Noritoshi, just now and then.

bonus:

“Noritoshi’s still being an ass, I see. Not a lot’s changed here.” Kanato is lazily scrounging through his mother’s collection of jewellery. Kanato likes the more minimalistic ones, a tad bit on the high-fashion hippie line. Miyumi is happy to oblige her son, despite his father’s disapproval. Not like he approves of Kanato in any way. Not since Noritoshi, the perfect son, exists. Besides, he’ll be back to England soon. 

Miyumi’s eyes sharpen at his mention. “My god, did that brat do something to you again? I swear, I–”

“Whoa, mother, no.” Kanato, ever smiling, calms her down. “He was just super jealous that I was training with that kid. y/n. Honestly, mother, I think it was adorable. I just don’t like the way he speaks to me.”

“He has no manners. Do you know he goes out of his way to avoid me?” Miyumi sees her son pick up two lockets, one a Kamo family crest engraved on hard mahogany, another a pattern of ducks in emeralds and rubies. “Don’t bother choosing, take both.” 

“You sure, mother? I’ll kidnap some of your earrings too.”

“Yes, yes, when do I even wear them? Just don’t get them rusted.”

Kanato smiles.

next chapter: #8 - Ice-Cream Date

a/n: are they.. no i shan't say it... warming up... caring about each other's feelings... oh my...

what if reader gets jealous? here u go: Hey Handsome!

img

[prince-liest]

since you acknowledged vox and valentino as a uh. less than healthy relationship (lol) several times (going feral over what vox was implying in that latest 666 fic), do you think there's ever the chance of alastor feeling... probably not protective haha but maybe possessive over vox the next time he's a little banged up? alternatively, how else do you think alastor would react if whatever they were getting up to is halted by vox nursing some kind of injury from one of his and val's fights? - ✨

I think it really depends on how Vox presents the situation, to be honest! They, uh, bang each other up a lot themselves, hahaha, and Alastor doesn't really register it as problematic. A lot of writing 666 is balancing the idea that these guys are living an existence where the a real life normal-meter really can't accurately be applied, and also maintaining that they still do have personal boundaries and lines that might be crossed.

A reminder of some (but not all) of the fucked up things that Vox and Alastor have done to each other over the course of 666:

One murder attempt that Vox didn't draw a line in the sand over

Vox got annoyed and slapped Alastor across the face hard enough to knock him down, with no warning or prelude, in a sexual context

Vox slammed Alastor's skull into the ground, out of anger, several times until he was dazed and bleeding

Alastor literally tried to eat a chunk of Vox's shoulder, most likely resulting in the reverse of the scenario you're describing: Vox having to take it easier with Val because he has a gaping shoulder wound courtesy of Alastor and can't lift his arm

About three dozen bucketfuls of severely under-negotiated and sometimes not-at-all negotiated edgeplay (as in, not safe-sane-consensual) kink from both ends, including but not limited to: choking (via hands and via dick), fearplay, deliberate boundary-crossing wrt touch, hypnosis, painplay, bloodplay, wounding, and gaslighting for the purpose of humiliation

Like, Vox asking "I want to make sure I didn't cross any boundaries!" in the second 666 fic does not in any way absolve him of having deliberately crossed about thirty of them immediately prior, and the fact that Alastor enjoyed it is mostly just because Alastor is also fucked up. Some people seemed quite surprised at Alastor crossing so many boundaries in the wireplay fic compared to all the shit Vox had pulled prior to that point, and I think it's because he, unlike Vox, didn't pay lip service to it, though they both do about the same amount of actual "keeping an eye on things".

Them caring about each other does not mean that their concept of "boundaries" or even "okay things to do to another person in an intimate setting or otherwise" aren't very, very colored by them being demonic overlords who live in hell and haven't so much as waved 'hello' to a single healthy intimate relationship in the past hundred years.

Vox having to take a breather because he has some kind of injury from Val is, unless he's actively making a 'this is fucked up and I'm opening up to be vulnerable and unhappy about it' kind of deal about it, is not really going to ping on Alastor's radar as a problem.

And Vox isn't going to make that kind of deal about it because that isn't how he sees his relationship with Valentino. Yes, Val often treats Vox in abusive ways in 666. That is also colored by both of them being demonic overlords who live in hell, and Vox treats certain aspects of it as frustrating and upsetting (and often takes that out on Valentino - hence the frequent off-again-on-again nature of their relationship), but he doesn't actually, like, see their relationship the way that we do.

He loves Val. Val loves him. To him, the rest is either normal overlord behavior or their own damage, and they've found a balance where the general response to a shitty happening is, "Eh, we've worked through worse."

TL;DR: Valentino, Vox, and Alastor all need to have "DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!" stapled across their foreheads. To paraphrase Bay: They're in hell. The insane acts of violence are basically a love language at this point.

[fictionalslvr]

Part one. Part two.

SYNOPSIS: "Ghost" is your new neighbor in your apartment complex, everyone is afraid of him, but not you. He can't understand why you're so kind to him, and thinks he doesn't deserve it. He doesn't have no one to celebrate Christmas.

PAIRING: Neighbor¡Simon x F¡Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.045k

WARNINGS: fluffy, angst, mentions of blood, war, s.a (not directly) ect.

NOTES: This is the last part of this mini serie, sobs sobs. I hope you guys enjoyed until now 🫶🩵 (for some reason my tumblr bugs and won't let me make some phrases bold, ignore that.)

And again, tell me if there's something wrong, english is not my first language.

PREVIOUS PART

❝How can you miss someone you've never met?❞

Simon is a stubborn man. He is used to believing that maintaining distance would keep people safe from him, and this is not very polite of him. Sometimes, he would even be rough without noticing, making someone he cares for upset. It could or not, be his choice to do so. He did this a lot to his team, thinking that this would keep them safe, away from him, like killing two birds with one stone., keeping his past hidden, and not losing anyone as well. It’s hard not to get attached to someone, he can’t really control that, and when he realizes, he’s suddenly more cold than before, afraid that he will lose everything once more. Only he would understand the pain he felt, the knot on his guts when he saw his family vanishing from his hands, everything he fought for in years, going away in a blink of an eye, he surely doesn’t want to feel those sensations again. Guilty, vulnerable and useless, he really felt like this back then, trying even to make some therapy wouldn’t help, he found it nonsense, would only make his anger issues harder. As for now, he’s not that melancholic about it, trying to live his life after years of that, it already happened, he can’t change this. Even killing the one who did this to his family wouldn’t be one hundred percent enough, but for a long while, kept his mind thinking that he did justice with his own hands, and this was good for a moment. When Simon left only for himself, Ghost appeared, embracing his old identity for a new living he would start. It was very spontaneous, he suddenly took charge of his life for his own good, and Simon let it be like a second identity. They’re actually the same, but he likes to think that Ghost is a better version of himself, that is stronger and braver. He took all his fears and used them as a strength, became a new one, that he would only let it slip alone or outside the job. For a moment, he thought he would lose himself that way, until he found a in between line of being Ghost and Simon, he would live happily on that tightrope, finding some balance on top of it, slipping his feet sometimes, but never falling completely.

He takes a lot of pain for himself, and crying is something he never thought of doing. He passed through a lot, a lot that took his ability to cry. He would feel his heart ache, his lips drying and his heartbeat increasing…for not even a single drop of tear left his eyes. It was like he had no emotions at all, but from inside, he was cracked up, like a porcelain vase being glued all together again and again, for years. Usually, when he’s sad, he would stare at the wall or the ceiling, forgetting everything around him to think too much, alone, for himself only. Or, he would just stare, blankly, not a single thought on his mind. That’s when he got the habit of smoking, feeling the smoke filling his lungs would keep him distracted from the bad feelings. When he takes shots of whiskey, he’s very bad, and needs something stronger to bury his soul. He’s actually afraid on the back of his mind, afraid that he would end up addicted, so he truly drinks only a few times, but making sure he would knock out and wake up regurgitating all the liquid, the emptiness on his stomach would start to ache, and the hangover was a reminder that he wouldn’t forget everything so easily.

If there's one thing he didn’t like were commemorative dates, especially Christmas. In those days, he would try his best to not leave his home, but either way, he couldn’t escape the families nearby, all laughing and enjoying moments together. Those damn nights, he would sit on his table, a glass of whiskey in hands, all alone, and looking at the windows gave him the sight of a big family, around the table celebrating the food or kids opening gifts. Once, he tried to close the windows, like a grumpy older man that doesn't like to see happy people. That didn’t help a single bit, living in an apartment complex and those thin walls…he could hear some chatter anyways. The problem was not them, nor was the date itself, it was him. He knows that this way, he would look like Grinch himself, hating Christmas. He doesn't truly hate, he just didn’t like how it reminded him of the past, how a great time turned to a tragedy in his life. And hearing the little kids opening the gifts would make his face melt in sorrow, he always had a soft spot for children, ever since he had a nephew, he stills remember how happy the kid was with his gift.

—"Uncle, you really gave me the scooter that I asked for?” — The little boy giggled. Excited for the unwrapped gift in his hands, Simon nodded with his head, in silence, but with a big grin on his face.

—”Now, now. What do we say to him?” — His lovely mother caressed his back, reminding him to be grateful for the gift.

—”Thanks uncle Simon! You’re the best!”

He never used it. Never had the time to play with his new gift. His voice is still so fresh in Simon's memories, that each time the Christmas is close, he can hear his voice in his mind. The little boy's eyes would sparkle up, the fireplace making everything nice and comfy. When he blinks his eyes, he can see where he is now, a cold place, all alone.

It’s been a long time, and he’s avoiding you. The head nods turned into his eyes turning away from yours, the soft chuckles once in a while turned into silence, and not even the hand wave would be present. Of course, you would keep your life, going to work, coming back, having the little cat nearby and her purrs calming you down, drinking coffee in the mornings and reminding of…him. Simon’s stubborn, you told him that being cold won’t make you leave, but he suddenly became more distant than before, and this was a pain you would have to carry. He’s not an easy person to deal with, that’s obvious, the closer you get, the more he pushes you away. That would cause you shame, shame for being ignored in the hallways, shame for being stupid for a friendship that never quite existed. At first, you thought it was your imagination, that he was only in a bad mood. But when you knock on his door and he doesn’t open, even if you heard his footsteps, then you’re sure he’s ignoring you. His mind is playing with his sanity, he can’t keep seeing you and not getting even more attached, so the only option he had was to ignore you, and pretend that they never met. Simon felt awful doing that, you were the only one with the courage to speak to him, and that’s how he returns the good act? He is always that ignorant.

As Christmas gets close, he wonders if your family is coming to your house, and this year, he would listen to you, giggling with your family on a full table, decorations all over the place, and the mix of red and green starts to bother him. When the day finally comes…silence at the apartment above, that’s weird, he surely saw the pictures you had with your family. The curiosity is eating him alive, trying the best to disguise it. It’s hard to see your excited figure wave at him, and ignores completely. On the night of Christmas Eve, he was walking on the hallways, making his way back to his home after a meeting for job, and luckily or not, he ends up on the same elevator as you, the tense atmosphere when his hand is in between the metal, almost losing it, he enters it quickly, now giving the chance to the heavy doors close. When Simon lays his back against the cold metal, he sees you, winter clothes and a scarf, it’s so cold that you’re nuzzling your nose to the fabric, in an attempt to warm you up. The silence is weird, you don’t even look at his face, and there’s nothing on your hands, making clear that you’re not putting decorations for today. Simon clears his throat, he wants you to talk to him, how ironic after all these weeks ignoring you. Weirdly putting his hands on his pockets.

—”So…no preparations for today?” — His cold voice suddenly rings your attention. You shake your head slightly and lift your chin to meet his eyes, his face, as you’re used to being hidden by that balaclava. It’s weird to see him starting a dialogue after all this time being ignored, you lift an eyebrow before answering.

—”Just me. As always.” — For the first time, your voice sounds painful. He wants to ask why, but doesn’t deserve an answer after being a jerk with you. —”M’sorry for…avoiding you.”

He just asked for an apology? Seems like he had a big time thinking after weeks alone, and the past caught him by the feet, dragging him to that pit of regret. Simon looks away, not wanting to see your eyes after doing something so weird like apologizing.

—”That’s okay.” — No more words were needed, his face turned to see yours, and when your lips curled up in a smile, his shoulders felt a lot more light. The metal door creaks open, interrupting Simon to say more with that loud rusty noise.

—”Do you…want a coffee?”

—”Of course.”

Being here is all he needed after this long and sufferable week. The cozy air in your home would bring him immeasurable peace.Simon watches as you take off the scarf around your neck and pulls a chair for him.

—”Feel comfortable.” — You mumbled with a soft grin. He sits there immediately, watching the surroundings of your home once more, like he’s remembering how it was the last time he was here. But nothing changed. No artificial trees or Christmas stocking, nor fairy lights. Not even a single detail about this special date.

—”You don’t celebrate?” — He asked weirdly, while your back was turned to him, taking the pot of coffee, as you turned your body to face him, a confused expression meet him.

—”What? Christmas?”

—”Yeah. Is it…religion?”

—”Oh no, i just don’t have anyone to celebrate with.” — Simon nods, not daring to ask a single question more.

You lift up the sleeve of your shirt, pouring the coffee in the cups, and he keeps an eye on you, finally noticing a big burn scar all over your arm. Behind that mask, his lips parted, surprised with something about you he never saw before. Someone happy as you, had lost your family too.

—”How did you…” — He points to the burn scar, not directly mentioning it. You chuckles softly at his description on that matter.

—”I survived an accident. Was just me and my sister.”

—”So why isn’t she here now?”

—”She lives in another state, can’t come to celebrate it.” — As the steam flows out of the cups, Simon gets himself in a chokehold. He sure doesn't have a lot of manners, but the way you treated an accident was way different from his. You sit on the chair beside him, putting the pout of coffee down on the table.

—”My condolences for your family.”

—”There’s no need for that, I'm sure they’re resting now. It’s been a long time since it happened.”

—”Can i…touch your scar?”

—”Sure.” — This new discovery took all of his attention, he didn’t care about the coffee anymore. You offer him your arm, lifting up the sleeve to your shoulders.

Simon was completely mesmerized by it, such a big scar that starts on your fingertips, to your shoulders. His thumb gently presses it, with such tenderness that you looked like it could break at any moment. Slowly, his thumb moves along your hand, traveling to your arm and feeling the texture of it, that gentle movement along your arm, feeling every fiber of you as a new thing. He never asked for this before, and having him so focused on you it’s great. His eyes follow his trails, going all the way to your shoulders and making you shiver gently. This scar, just as the many that he has, was an act of bravery of yours, a sign that you’re still here, in this mediocre world. He always looked at his scars with disgust, thought that would make him feel ugly, but seeing yours…he felt connected to you. He was understanding himself with your story, your life on the press of his thumbs.

—”They look painful.”

—”It was. Had a lot of trouble taking care of it alone.”

—”That’s…so admirable.” — You knew how lucky you were to be alive from that accident, the doctors told you that you managed to escape from the toxic smoke, being burned and are still alive. But you never thought that he would find something like this admirable.

—”You really think so?”

—”Yeah, I'm being honest, it’s pretty…” — His hands move along your arm one last time, before letting you go. Letting that sensation go away.

—”Well, thanks then.”

—”Just telling the truth. I have a lot of scars as well, I understand you.” — For the first time, he shares something about himself, without you asking for it. That lights up all your face as you pull your sleeve back down.

—”Really? How many?”

—”I don’t know…I never count them. Have you ever counted how many moles you have?”

—”Course not, it’s too many.”

—”That’s why I never count my scars.” — His words make your breath hitch for a moment, you sigh heavily before looking away. The coffee in the cups is starting to cool down.

—”Where are your scars?”

—”All over it, almost. Face, chest, abdomen…ribs.” — He takes his own moment on the last word, like it's something that really matters for him.

—”I can’t imagine what you passed through.”

—”Don’t even try, you won’t guess correctly.” — Simon exhales deeply, looking down to the now cold coffee. The silence creeps once more, and you just have to ask.

—”I’ve been wanting to ask…why have you ignored me all these weeks?”

—”I was scared.”

—”Scared?”

—”Yeah, I have fears as well.” — He shrugs and that makes you chuckle softly

—”I know this. I’m asking...fear of what?” — Simon stays silent for a while, reluctantly answering —”Fear that you came to stay.”

His words are confused, sometimes look like he’s talking to himself. That makes you tilt your head a little, looking at his almond shaped eyes running from yours.

—”I’m not used to people like you. That doesn’t run away from me, or leave at the first talk.”

—”Well…?”

—”I realized that I can't run away from you anymore.” — These words, is like he’s been feeling what you felt as well, since you first encountered him, the way that he had an amount of power over you, that made you become more and more curious about him. Seems like he is finally opening up about his feelings.

—”I want you to know…to know me properly.”

—”So…no more ignoring?”

—”No more ignoring. Just the real Simon.” — His eyes meet yours, and even behind the mask, you can sense a smile out of him, from the way his eyes squint. —”But promise me something.”

—”What is it?”

—”That you won’t leave me after knowing the truth.” — Your face brightens, and you nod with your head at him.

—”Okay, I promise you, Simon.”

—”Thank you, [name].” — With that, Simon hands wander over his mask, and he takes it off completely, giving you the vision of…his face.

He’s just as handsome as you thought. Bushy eyebrows now visible, his short blond hair a bit messy, that jawline making his face more than memorable. And besides all of that, scars. One big one at the side of his lips, another one on his eyes. He looks away like a flustered little child, scratching the back of his neck and your eyes almost close for smiling too much. You giggle softly with the sight, a giggle that tells him ‘is okay’, that makes him feel safe again to look you in the eyes. He becomes lost in that sight, your face melting with smiles, so happy to finally know him truly, that he’s finally opening up for you, that he smiles too, a soft little smile. Only he knows how much he wanted this, to be real with you, to show himself, and that you would continue to look at him with that grin on your face.

—”It’s nice to meet you, Simon.”

The comfort of your voice is all he needed at this moment. The way your voice brings him peace. That ache of his heart finally leaving, knowing that he won’t lose you anytime soon. That you’re here, with him. Both heartbeats increase, silly smiles all over, maybe it’s the Christmas spirit making everything more cozy. Or maybe it’s because one needs another to understand…that not everything can be solved, but that things can stay in the past, not be forgotten.

—”Can we…spend this Christmas together?” — He knows that is safe, that he won’t lose you to those cruel people who killed his family. That for the first time, he can have a normal Christmas. You only nod your head gently, a brief answer that he needs.

To make everything more comfortable, your little cat appears, climbing Simon’s lap and staying there lazily.

—”Sorry for her…”

—”Oh hello little one, we meet again…” — Simon mumbles, looking down at the little feline, his hands caressing her fur gently. Even without the mask, she could recognize him. The view makes your heart flutter.

—”Again?” — You ask in between chuckles. It was indeed, adorable to see this.

—”I met her when you slept on the couch, she was all over me.”

—”She’s a clever little kitten.”

When you say that, a relieved exhale leaves your lips. From now on, you’ll be able to meet the real Simon, and the idea of having him close, it’s not a problem for you.

Tag list (hope i didn't forget anyone):

@linoskitten11

@pepsicolacoochie

@silas-222

@maeplayscello

@ysljoon

@fandomsinthegalaxies

@corvusmorte

[ktficworld]

The Cinderella Moment

Pairing: reader x (you choose)

Summary: You are a broke college student who works for a very stuck up, arrogant and rude rich family. They give you food and shelter and so you always accept their impossible orders with a nod. But their order to go to a ball, disguised as their daughter might just flip your world upside down.

Warnings: Riches being shitty, reader's broke, verbal abuse.

A/n: This is an experiment and I dunno how it's gonna turn out, but if you like it then please do reblog.

"8 weeks? Can't it heal faster? The ball is just around the corner." The shrill voice of madam Abigail pierced your ears as you discreetly rubbed them.

The doctor who was sitting at the injured Rose's side shook his head and said. "No, Mrs. Thompson. It takes 6 to 8 weeks for a broken arm to fully heal."

Madam Abigail fall down on one of the chairs dramatically and you rolled your eyes as you took in the scene from a secluded corner of the room.

You were a college student. Well, a broke college student to be exact. You did get into a prestigious college on scholarship but the other bills were crippling down on you. You didn't want to burden your parents as your financial background was not favorable. After working in cafes and fast food chains, living in crappy apartments and skipping breakfast everyday. When you saw the job posting for a house keeper with housing and food, you jumped on it like a cat jumping on a ball.

You were finally able to move out of your shitty apartment with not so nice company into a decent maid's room and the food was also better than the leftovers at your previous jobs.

However, not everything was rainbows and sunshines. Your employer was horrible, condescending, rude and overall the epitome of rich, stuck-up assholes. You now worked almost 24/7, having to be present on a whim and maintaining everything into perfection.

It was like retail job, just no off time with Karens screaming at you all the time. But you didn't give a fuck. Every insult hurled at you would fall on deaf ears because you learnt long time ago that detachment really annoyed people with superiority complex.

Mr. Thompson was rarely home so it was only Abigail and her ducklings following her around. The only person who was nice to you was laying on the bed with a broken arm. The only one eligible for the grand ball.

Oh, the grand ball? It was a masquerade party, the most hyped upcoming event, organized by one of the richest man in the country, so he could find someone to settle down with. People called him prince because he was the youngest in the bunch of old billionaires.

Of course it was nothing but arranged marriage and someone actually meeting the prince and catching his eyes would be like finding a needle in a haystack. But there would be many other wealthy suitors than just him. So, needless to say, the ball was a gold mine for potential catches.

Abigail and many of her tea time friends were so furious that only girls above 18 were allowed. They would send their nine year old if it meant snatching a good deal.

And so seeing the only candidate from their family injured and unattractive. Abigail was devasted to say the least.

"Is there really no way for a speedy recovery? Can she not wear her cast on the night of the ball? It's really important." She Shrieked.

The doctor was agitated but contained it well and answered in a balanced voice. "Unfortunately, no. We cannot dictate when the recovery would happen and she needs to wear the cast all the time for the arm to heal properly and effectively. You should take care of your daughter."

Abigail scoffed at that and sobbed into her handkerchief, not even sparing Rose a glance. She was visibly upset by it but probably did not want any drama as she whispered out. "Mom, it's going to be alright. It okay."

Abigail's head snapped towards Rose as she scowled at her daughter. "How is it going to be alright? You're going to miss such a great opportunity. And you're so stupid. How did you fall from the stairs? Do you not have eyes? I'm so unfortunate to have an useless child like you..." Abigail continued to berate her daughter and you sneakily went to the doctor to escort him out as the scene was about to turn ugly and he didn't sign up for a reality TV show.

The doctor thanked you and handed you a prescription. You nodded and went back. Sure enough, they were both shouting at each other now. Rose tried to shot back but since she was injured, she lacked her usual ferocity as Abigail managed to dominated her.

You shook your head in exasperation and opened your mouth to interrupt. You might get into trouble for this but you couldn't watch Abigail scold a sick and fragile Rose, when she did nothing to deserve it.

"Madam, I think you should let miss Rose rest and it might help with a quicker recovery." You said and braced yourself to get chewed out.

Abigail spun on her heels, her whale-like face flushed with rage as she pointed a harsh finger at you and started. "You don't need to meddle-" She cut herself off as a look of awe dawned on her face, like she had an epiphany.

She rushed towards you. Grabbing you by the arm and dragged you beside Rose. What is this woman doing? You didn't want to get yelled at so you remained there with a bewildered frown as Abigail's assessing gaze flicked between you and Rose, her smile widening with each gaze.

After the tenth gaze, Abigail clapped her hands in glee and exclaimed. "Perfect. You are perfect." And stared at you.

"I'm perfect for what?" You asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You are perfect to go to the ball as Rose. Just look at you two both, look like pretty twins." Abigail gushed, her eyes twinkling with hope.

You gawked at her, applaud. "Are you shitting me?"

Abigail snapped her eyes at you and barked. "Mind your language, servant."

You put up your hand. "Ma'am, I won't. I have done everything you asked me to do. From cleaning the deepest corner of the mansion by myself to entertaining pervy men. I have done everything, but I won't do this. I won't go in place of Rose. I don't want to deceit anyone." You ranted.

This woman had asked you to do so many egregious things and you did them without any complaint. However, this is where you draw the line. It was alright when you were the only one taking the brunt of her deviousness but if she wants you to deceive other people, you wouldn't do it.

Considering you had just been lied to yourself. The man who claimed to love you, got engaged with someone else without a peep of protest. You were just his play thing.

Abigail looked like she wanted to slap you as her face flushed red and her eyes twitched. "You ungrateful, brat. I gave you a roof, food, safety and that's how you repay me? By counting all the bare minimum you have done? I thought that maybe you had some sense of integrity but I should have known better," She scoffed wryly and looked you dead in the eye. "Tell me, how much you want me to pay you to go to this ball?"

To all the insults you have been subjected to, this genuinely offended you. "Ma'am, you could sell your morals for money but I can't. Even if you give me a billion dollar I won't go. I don't want to trick someone into believing I'm somebody else. This is my boundary I won't cross."

Abigail sneered. "Just drop your act already-"

"Mom, let me talk to her." Rose interjected and you flashed her a determined look. You weren't going to budge on this one.

"What would you talk to her? You are just as dumb as her." Abigail yelled.

"If I didn't convince her then you can call me as many insults as you'd like. Now please, get out." She responded, softy but firmly.

Abigail huffed and whined but left the room nonetheless, the door clicking shut but you knew she was right outside the door, listening to everything and so did Rose as she beckoned you to the bed. You sighed and sat down beside her.

"Listen, you should go. Have fun, eat expensive food and rob my mother of as much money as you need to get out of here. And before you start about deceit and all that. You don't need to meet anyone, just imagine what are your chances of meeting the prince and catching his eye? Maybe one percent. Every women would be busy fawning over him, you won't even get an opportunity." Rose explained in a hushed voice.

When she put it like that it didn't sound bad but you were still apprehensive. "But I have already said no to the money, if I demand it now then she would be proven correct and what about the other suitors?" You countered.

"Who cares what my mother thinks of you? She already thinks you are inferior and nothing would change that, then why not use the opportunity and get out of her claws? And as for the other suitors, as I said you don't need to meet anyone there. My mother won't be there to make sure you are putting in the efforts or not." She argued.

"You sure you are Abigail's bio daughter? You doesn't seem to like her much." You half joked, half lamented. Now the idea of going to the ball wasn't looking bad or deceitful. Just a solace night in a pretty dress.

Rose let out a bitter laugh. "Unfortunately, I'm. And I don't like the way you are treated but that's the only thing I can do. Plus, the event may cheer you up, since you're going through a lot right now..." She trailed off, probably not wanting to open your fresh wound.

You hummed quietly and let the room get silent. After some hesitation, you whispered. "You did it intentionally." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Rose was far from being clumsy or reckless so for her to fall from the stairs she could navigate blindly. It was rather suspicious.

"I let my love go once y/n. I can't let it go again." She whispered back.

You gulped due to the tension. "So, shall I call your mother?" You asked to lighten the mood and it worked as Rose beamed at you and nodded her head.

"So, you'd go?" She asked hopefully.

"Yes, I'd go." You said with a grin, image be damned Rose was right. Scam Abigail and get the fuck out of there.

You opened the door and a very annoyed and impatient Abigail stomped inside. She glowered at you expectantly and you cleared your throat.

"After Rose's arguments, I have decided to go to the ball. If you give me my desired price." You said monotonously.

A look of smugness crossed her face as she scoffed and said. "I knew it. So much for morals. Now spit your price."

And so you did.

You asked for an amount that would keep you afloat for a year. You had initially asked for 4 years worth of money, yes greedy. But you knew it would not make a dent in their bank balance and you really wanted to get back for all the obnoxious and unreasonable things she had made you do it.

However, Abigail wasn't pleased with this offer as she shouted that she would only give you that amount if you managed to woo the prince. You had no plans for doing that so you let go of that notion.

It gave you the much needed vacation from your work but the practice that came afterwards almost made you take back your offer and go back to scrubbing the floors.

The process to become Rose was strenuous. From how you walked to how you talked, everything needed to be exactly like Rose. Cursing was thrown out the window. You had to walk slowly with small steps with a sway of your hips, no long strides were allowed. Heck, you couldn't even slouch. Although you didn't receive a scathing hit by wooden stick, Abigail's earbiting voice and insults were not any pleasant either.

You had to speak like you were talking to crickets, poised and low. Cracking Rose's accent and voice was the toughest task but you pulled it off. Everything was so meticulous, from clothing to manners to behavior. These effluent women had to be perfect, not human. But it was all useless as you wouldn't be behaving like the perfect little doll at the ball. Maybe it would help you further down the line to snatch a rich man if you turned out to be a failure.

Rose also got some relief from her banshee of a mother as she mostly helped you and took care of herself, her mother didn't give two fucks about her daughter's health.

That was how the days passed and here you were now, sitting ahead of Rose's vanity as Abigail dolled you up for the ball. She didn't hire any stylist or artist as it could risk her scheme getting out, no matter how much she paid them.

"You must secure a man for my daughter or you will not be getting any money." Abigail hissed as she zipped up your dress.

"That is not the terms we agreed on. You are paying me to go to the ball as Rose, not to woo a man. I'll try to do my best but you can't hold back my payment." You bit back. You weren't an idiot, you had made her sign a contract and this bit wasn't in it.

Abigail scowled at you and muttered under her breath. "Little wicked tramp." And stepped back as you were ready.

You rolled your eyes, the comment sliding off of your consciousness like butter as you glanced up to assess your reflection.

And you were awestruck to say the least.

Your makeup was minimal as it would get overshadowed by the dim lights and mask anyways. However, it brought out your features to the fullest, making you look like a princess.

The dress was even more mesmerizing. It was a dusty blue fluffy gown with a heart neckline and white embroidery shattered throughout. It flowed like ichor on your body, making you look ethereal.

You hummed in admiration and grabbed the same coloured mask from the vanity, you tied it behind your head as Rose came near you.

"You look so beautiful, even with the mask. I think you would have a hard time dodging men." She teased.

You swatted her forearm and whirled around to glare at her. "Don't say stuff like that, Rose. I'm already a nervous wreck inside." You whined. It was true, going or doing something for the first time always felt daunting but this time you felt like an intruder as you didn't belong in that party at all. Thankfully, the anonymity of the mask was a sigh of relief to you.

Rose chuckled and bobbed your nose. "No, I'm serious. You look really pretty-"

She was cut off by a yell from Abigail. "Come on, you'll be late. Do you want people to think that we are late arrivers?"

You sighed deeply as Rose shook her head. "Okay, have fun and stay away from boys. Bye." She said and hugged you.

You hugged her back and said hastily. "Okay, bye." And jogged out of the room and into the car as Abigail's insults played in the background.

👑👠💃

"Miss, we have arrived." The unassuming driver said and pulled open the car door.

The respect was peculiar as you gingerly stepped outside. Your dusty blue pumps stark against the grey pavement. Abigail wanted you to wear heels but you'd be damned if you risked blisters or a twisted ankle on your precious feet.

You smoothed down your dress and started walking forward, your breath catching in your throat upon gazing at the banquet. The venue appeared heavenly, with white gates and staircase like golden glass, leading to the paradise of the elite. It was bustling with people who had enough money to buy your soul. All hidden behind their customized mask and clothes, some were extravagant, some were elegant.

Their expensive scent mingled in the air, creating a tantalizing and mystical aura. It was amplified by the dim lights of the hall, leaving the mind tranquil and intrigued for the suitors behind the veils.

Although the low light made it hard to decipher the interior of the hall. It definitely was of Victorian style as it was opulent and eloquent at the same time.

You looked around like a curious child as you observed and admired the beauty, upper class deemed normal.

You rushed to the food first, eating every of those stupidly expensive yet tasty dishes from all around the world. They were a lot so you ate small portions but your favorite had to be the chocolate fountain where you may or may not have coated your fingers with chocolate and licked them clean. No, classy ladies like you didn't do such things.

You tried to talk to some other girls as well but they were more interested in finding their future husbands. Hence, all your conversations died shortly after some begrudging small talk.

Those also attracted unwanted male attention so you quickly noped out of there and began exploring the venue however it was way bigger than you expected. Though mostly consisting of bedrooms and suites, you had squealed in surprise when you had found a small library tucked away in the lounge. You wanted to read there so badly, but you had come here to mess around not hide in a corner and read Jane Austen like your usual self.

However your enthusiasm had mellowed down as you now stared out the large bay window, in a secluded corner, chewing on fruits and silently observing the party.

"How come there's no fountain in the garden?" You mused to yourself. You had even gone to the garden and found no fountain and now gazing at it again reminded you of that smidge of flaw again.

"Because it's in the balcony." A deep voice said from behind.

You gasped, one hand flying to your racing heart as the other clutched onto the fruit plate for dear life, your body slightly trembling from the unexpected adrenaline surging to your veins.

You whipped your head to look at the perpetrator as he gave you a sheepish and apologetic look. You couldn't clearly make out his face but the golden light coming from the oil lamp above you and the white moonlight casted an unique glow on his porcelain face, his stark blue eyes twinkling in the lights.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. You looked lonely so I thought to give you some company." He said, his black suit and mask made him blend into the surroundings like the devil lurking in the shadows, patiently waiting for an opportunity.

"So, you were stalking me?" You said sharply before you could even comprehend your words. You instantly regretted it as dread filled your stomach. Fuck, he wasn't some random man you could sass around. He was definitely a very powerful man, he dripped from it.

He chuckled, the sound soothing to your ears. "I was not stalking. I was... Observing." He said playfully.

You relaxed at his nonchalance and smirked at him. "So, you were definitely stalking." You teased back.

"Oh, come on. I'm trying to be romantic here. Plus, a little birdie like you, standing alone in a corner while everybody danced? You'd definitely stick out like a sore thumb." He said.

You snapped your gaze back to the main area and sure enough, everyone was twirling on the melody flowing in the air, while you stares out a window like a werido.

"I didn't know people were dancing." You whispered, more to yourself but he heard it.

"Since we are the only loners left, might you enjoy some company?" He suggested with a charming smirk and extended his hand for you, his sapphire blue eyes flickering towards the dance floor.

Rejection must be as clear as day on your face as he retrieved his hand with a pout and walked closer to you. You stepped backwards, your back hitting the window.

"Just one dance with you, pretty please?" He pleaded and gently brought his hand over his heart like it would get wounded by your denial.

It was so coy that it made you chuckle. "Hmmm, I'll dance with you but only on one condition. You'll have to show me the balcony." You offered and he nodded ecstatically.

He stretched out his hand once again and this time you took it. Your skirt twirled as he held your waist and whisked you to the dance floor. No one noticed your presence, too engrossed in their own world. However, you did.

You took notice how in the light of the chandelier, his face was more visible, how sharp his jaw was. You noticed how his muscular arms felt beneath your hands as you clutched onto them. How his body enveloped yours, a cocoon you never wanted to leave.

"You are so beautiful. " He murmured, close to your face. His gaze piercing as his voice sent shivers down your spine.

"But not as Beautiful as you. " You whispered and huffed out a breathy chuckle. You wanted to see him without his mask.

He beamed at you but swiftly grabbed your hand that was gliding behind his head, near his mask string. "Don't do that, darling." He husked out, bringing your hand to his lips, he kissed your palm. Heat rose to your cheeks as you looked away, making him chuckle. He was devilishly charming.

"Your palms are not, soft. Why?" He asked inquisitively. He was observant for sure or had kissed many women's palms.

"I-uh, like to do some manual labour. Some for fun, some for skills." You stuttered out, hoping it wouldn't blow your cover.

"That's nice. But I totally forgot to ask, what's your name?" He asked softly.

"What's your name?" You countered, anxiety brewing inside you.

He shook his head with a chuckle. "What's in the name?" And winked at you.

"Exactly." You gasped when he spun you around, your back hitting his muscular chest.

"So, what are you looking for?" He asked in your ear.

It took you a moment to process his question. "Fun." You replied.

"No, in terms of love. Don't you wanna love someone?"

You didn't like where this conversation was heading as you turned in his arms and wrapped your hands around his neck. 'Don't you?"

"I don't have time for love?" He said honestly.

"It's overrated anyways."

He let out a throaty laugh. "No, it's not overrated," He said and pulled you closer, his earthy scent hypnotizing you. "It's painfully sweet."

"Mhm, you're really poetic." You teased.

"So, you want to see the fountain?" He asked with a smirk.

"Yes, why not?" You instantly replied.

He chuckled and twirled you around, leading to the staircase parallel to the entrance. He led you up and gradually the lighting intensified as as you both left the main floor and entered into a stairway. It was illuminated by enormous chandeliers with wide bronze steps and Victorian style walls. You both stopped ahead of a golden door and he pushed it open.

Suddenly, the glow surrounding you changed as the ceiling was now replaced by the starry sky. You glanced at him as he smiled at you sweetly.

"You wanted to see the fountain and I'm a man of my word, darling." He said, intertwining your hand with his he guided you through the hallway, the balcony coming into your sight as you came to a halt.

You were stunned as you walked deeper into the balcony. The fountain was set in the middle of it, made with white marbles and on top was a skillfully crafted statue of cupid as water sprinkle down from his arrow. The water glinted in the moonlight as you rushed towards it and sat on the edge of the fountain. Looking to your side, the entire garden was in front of your eyes. The balcony was large, but deserted, no one was there beside you and him. You also weren't able to find it when you traversed the venue. It felt like a secret.

You glanced at him as he gazed at you with affection. "How do you know about this? It feels like something only the prince would know." Since it was one of many hotels the prince's family owned for generations.

"Because I'm the prince." He said and your heart stopped. No, that can't be. But to your absolute horror, he removed his mask and yes, it was him as he walked towards you. He sat beside you and covered your hands with his but you were frozen in place. The shock had paralyzed your body, mind and soul.

"I like you, I hosted a masquerade party to let people be themselves behind their mask. And you're the most authentic girl I've met this night. Your shyness didn't feel forced and your boldness wasn't fake. It's like you had no qualms for impressing anyone and that's what I wanted. You're witty, you seem hard working, you're beautiful. I know it's just one interaction but you are everything I was looking for and I promise to put effort into our relationship. So, will you marry me?"

His last words pounded in your ears. No, you couldn't do this. You couldn't trick someone but you couldn't refuse him either. What if he became angry and came after you? What if he came after Rose? You should have never danced with him.

"I-I need to go." You stumbled away from him, your hands trembling over the railing. You needed to get out of there, fast.

"But why?" He asked, bewildered and stood up.

The balcony was big enough that you could rush past him and he wouldn't be able to catch you. Hopefully, his size wouldn't ruin your escape plan. You took a deep breath and braced yourself for a run. "Because my mother told me to come before midnight and I think I'm already late. I should be get going. Thank you for the good time." You blabbered and marched past him and into the hallway.

"No, wait." He shouted and the thumping of his shoes reverberated in the hallway.

You gulped as you ran along the hallway. You breathed a sigh of relief when the golden door emerged ahead of you. You shoved it open and sprinted down the wide and umber colored stairs. The unusually well-lit staircase helped you skid down faster as your dress bellowed behind you.

However, he wasn't far away as his yells for you to stop made you heave in panic and he felt much closer than he actually was.

Thankfully, the lights reduced as you entered the main hall. You quickly darted into the crowd, making him loose you.

"Excuse me."

"please, let me go."

"I'm sorry, can you step aside?"

You said hundreds of times as you weaved through the crowd, checking your surroundings for him once in a while.

Soon, the crowd cleared out as the entrance door appeared in front of you. You dashed out the door and climbed down the golden steps. Your pace had slowed down, assuming you were out of danger when:

"Close the gates." His thunderous command boomed in your ears, making your blood ran cold.

Your eyes widened in fear as the guards began shutting the gates. You regained your ferocity and even pushed your body's limits as you scurried towards the exit, heart in your throat as the gates came inward by each passing second.

You yelped as you slide outside from a small spacing left before the gates fully closed. You stumbled forward as the gates thudded shut behind you just after a moment you got out.

You pulled open the car door and fall inside it. Your body shaking due to adrenaline as the driver wordlessly started the car and you sighed in relief.

However, just before the car sped off, you caught a glimpse of him staring at the recouping car.

He saw the car. He knows the name. He would come for Rose, thinking it was you. The exact thing you didn't want to happen. SHIT.

[thegratefulsouth]

TBOC: DDS2:04 My DEVELOPING Thoughts

This ramble is ten years long.

Those ten seconds of reunion, were 🙌

Everything else about this episode, is about adjusting expectations. So I'm going to spoilery share my process of adjusting my expectations of the content of this episode, in the midst of the narrative, the explanations, and the marketing surrounding this whole season.

The pretty and the not pretty.

And I will also again share some of my husbands responses, because I find his reaction interesting. He is completely spoiler free, he's not a Caryler (yet and more on that), and he loves flagship Daryl.

THE PRETTY:

Carol, Melissa, our silver haired beauty, as usual, was on fire and all parts compelling, heartbreaking, hilarious, and utterly captivating.

I really do love that brief little moment of reunion, I had seen it quite a few times already, so to see it in context was very interesting.

When Caryl do finally chat, there are some cute moments.

Didi and Theo really were wonderful, until Theo at the end.

Melissa's performance, and the time given to Carol, is actually so astounding. That it is accessible in this way, at this time, I feel helps some viewers possibly appreciate her in a way they hadn't before. She's carrying the story, she's an absolute joy to watch. For people to even consider Caryl, they must love Carol, and those who won't rewatch TWD, have an opportunity to fall in love with her here.

I know this episode is a favourite of the season for some people. So I hear that, and I am looking forward to having it grow on me.

There will be more pretty sprinkled throughout, but it's threaded in this confused attempt to reconcile my expectations.

THE NOT PRETTY:

My husband's overall comment regarding this episode and the reunion was, "well they couldn't have fucked that up anymore if they tried."

This is directly in response to the preceding and following scenes of the reunion.

I have had a few weeks to adjust to the spoilers and storyline in this episode, so I guess I was surprised to see so much emotion from him. He flips between trying not to care and not being able to help himself. He loves these characters. He was genuinely upset about the events surrounding the reunion and he was concerned about me.

He gave me a huge hug at the end of this episode, and asked if I was okay, highlighting that this reunion was long awaited, and it was overshadowed by Isabelle.

I'd already adjusted my expectations. The other thing I had time to adjust for, was my response to the 'old married couple bickering scene", as I'd seen the clip, but I was still hoping it didn't come across as harsh in context.

It was a little harsher still, because Carol has this beautiful, emotional moment with Didi, Daryl sees that, and then he's practically yelling at her in the next scene.

The bickering really upset my husband, he thought they were fighting for real and he asked, why would viewers want to see that after they just reunited? He maintained that if you have married couple bickering, you have married couple intimacy to balance it out. Which I found interesting.

There is no relief in this scene. I thought it would be more like their moment in Find Me, where Daryl is still a little pissed, but side eye smiling at her, Carol is angelic and laughs it off. Here she seems upset, he seems downright angry, she'd just been crying and he knew that, so even though I know many people love this scene, I was disappointed. I had to adjust my expectations.

The other thing is, my husband and I don't usually fight like that, but if we do, there is payoff, like he highlighted. A cuddle, a kiss, we're good. I also want to note that viewers who experienced or saw emotional abuse in childhood, are probably going to be more sensitive to this. It's jarring. Adjustments need to be made.

Flipping back to the scene after Isabelle's death, when Daryl was being a jerk to Carol for reasons, I had to adjust my expectations. There were a lot of things I had hoped for with this reunion:

- that Daryl acknowledge Carol's extraordinary efforts with his soul

- that Carol therefore feels wanted and appreciated

- that the focus, the story, stays with Caryl

- that there is a focused discussion about the gravity of this situation, their reunion, what they mean to each other

Those things not only didn't, happen, but it seemed like the exact opposite happened. To see the way Daryl spoke to Caryl after Isabelle's death, for reasons, was soul crushing.

My husband exclaimed, "He is being so rude to her!" Man was emotional.

So my response to this episode is really about adjusting my hopes and expectations for this significant, long awaited moment. It's a process.

Overall, I feel a disconnect between the narrative and what I see on-screen. I feel that it's all very fast, and it feels like scenes have been cut, or the timing in them, is off (earlier episodes particularly).

I also feel like the way things ended up with Isabelle, ruined a little of S1 for me. I felt that Norman downplayed any hint of shipbaiting in S1. So to see the ship hit, seemed out of sync, made me think that a little look or two from Daryl, as much as we would have hated it, in S1, might have made the 'experiment' more believable, more in character for Daryl. I don't know, there's probably no use trying to make sense of it.

But obviously they just shouldn't have done it, and Isabelle was still not a great character, who could have been written better, and the whole thing was just hard work to watch.

Showing, not telling (echoing a few other posts I saw recently) is what we need.

And underneath all of this, I still hear Zabel saying "mature relationship."

This all affects my trust in this story. And there is a lot of noise and colour and shapes and EMOTIONs and lack of emotions in this story that do not reflect what is being said in interviews. That means I am filtering additional information in a non-organic way. That requires extra effort, and when things do not add up, the added suspension of disbelief.

To simply enjoy something I am invested in for the sake of it, because someone worked hard on it, because I am lucky it exists at all, would be to cease being who I am.

Another note from my husband, who is not a Caryler, but who is loving and adoring Carol, and Melissa's performance, and is warming more and more to her.

"You just like Carol because of that cute smile she does."

He's joking, he knows that's not all it is, we talk about Carol's brilliance and strength of character at great length. But he genuinely sees that there is something special in this woman.

Those who haven't been paying attention, need to see Carol as beautiful, desirable, and sexual. For some people to see that, they need to see Daryl see that.

There are hints of this with the intensity of their devotion to each other in that ten second hug, in the foreshadowing of Didi and Theo. But the "you loved her" scene is so ambiguous.

I'm adjusting to the ambiguity, the agitation, Carol's hurt and confusion, which was the absolute last thing I wanted to see.

I know there's more to come. I am extremely nervous about that.

I want no more ambiguity, I want to see on screen what is being said in interviews, and I want actual words to come out of mouths.

[carrie-tate]

I wanna see this s/i very very much, I love all your doctor who stuff it fills my lil soul <3333

Thank you! ahem, now be careful, this is going to be a very long post.

This is Beatrice, a girl with a slightly alien origin.

In fact, she is a half-breed, that is, one parent is human, most likely the mother, and the second is an alien, obviously the father.

And in short, what is the essence and how she and the Doctor crossed paths, it’s all interconnected!

The events of their future meeting would begin with the observation of a strange trend over the course of twenty years (which the Doctor, as a Time Lord, may well notice), namely that in one of the areas of London (in the series aliens are always doing something in London x'D) everything is always suspicious... good

Like, there is always good weather on the weekends, always snow on Christmas, even when there was total chaos - there is the least loss and destruction. Any cafe or other establishment develops faster than others and their business is always going up.

And this is downright strange, because this (I came up with this myself) upsets the balance of negative and positive energy. If there is such luck here, it means that later, with the same force, a negative one will strike at once.

And this would be a catastrophe, which the Doctor decided to prevent (for him it was more of a pure walk than a mission on a universal scale) by finding the source of this phenomenon.

And at about the same moment he stumbles upon Beatrice. And an interesting observation occurs. In an area where everyone has incredible luck, the Doctor finds a girl who is not only clumsy, but also terribly unlucky, mixed with a bit of luck that turns out to be more bad luck.

For example, tripped over own foot, found someone’s discount coupon on the ground, but in the end it turned out to be expired, and so on.

And here the Doctor realizes that this phenomenon has not just the area of misfortune, but also an obvious center, where full of negative energy it attracts positive energy, creating all this

(Then it dawns on him that she, a 20-year-old person living in this area, is the cause of this phenomenon)

And in the end, the explanation for why Beatrice is this epicenter is explained by her extraterrestrial origin

Here I was also just making it up

But here is a concept with creatures that are like space nomads, that do not live in one place for a long time, precisely in order to maintain the uniformity of positive and negative energy in the galaxy.

There is also an idea in my head that due to the fact that they "bring goodness and positivity purely by their presence", they have served as the reason and confirmation in some religions of the existence of angels and their blessings.

(Here I use the Finnish translation of “angel” - Enkeli, because it sounds pretty)

And in general, genetically, these creatures may well connect with people

This is what happened, since my character’s father was just one of these “angelic nomads” (another name for the species)

And actually he wandered away and did not return

And daughter was given a genetic bonus in the form of accumulating negative energy, like arsenic.

Without awareness of what is happening.

And I came up with a way for the Doctor to try to correct the situation with the epicenter of negativity

That is

The idea is stupid, simple, but in its own way brilliant

What if, in order to neutralize the accumulation of negative energy at the epicenter, he simply begins to prevent further situations with further failures?

Roughly speaking, he will begin to babysit Beatrice, grab her by the collar so that she doesn’t fall at the very last moment, for balance do positive things for her, in order not only to stop the flow of negativity, but also to begin to reduce it, neutralizing it with positivity specifically addressed to her

Not always successful, but gradually reducing the level of risk

That's actually why he takes her on his travels.

Because such a time bomb needs to be kept in sight, right?

[lezzzstargirl]

ZZZ: Meet... Belobog Heavy Industries

Anton Ivanov, A rank, Attack, Electric attribute

Leads Others in His Passion for Work. A senior staff member of Belobog Industries, he's an onsite project manager who's always ready to go. Energetic and Reliable. He's full of vigor and always rises to the occasion. Kind-Hearted Despite Appearances. With a sharp tongue but a soft heart, he can't say "no" to those in need. Strong, Sincere & Straightforward. Open and honest, nothing can seem to upset him.

Ben, A rank, Defence, Fire attribute

Strong Body & Honest Soul. Those paws could shatter bones, luckily they're busy tapping away on a calculator. Has His Fish and Eats It Too. Finds an easy balance between fighting thugs with his pillar on the battlefield and returning to accounting at the times of peace... The only thing that could make it all better is a jar of caviar. Fuzzy Fur, No Fuzzy Math. Naturally sensitive to all things numerical, he's careful in his bookkeeping, and has memorized all 58 account ledgers in his office. Repays Recognition With Loyalty. After 1 year and 321 days of employment, Koleda promoted him to Head of Finance, and he's followed her faithfully ever since.

Koleda, S rank, Stun, Fire attribute

Small & Cute, With Some Fierce Combat Power. She may be small, but can certainly wield that huge hammer. A Fierce Young Girl Who's Also a President. The young leader at the helm of Belobog Industries. A President Who Leads by Example. She prefers to work out in the field, rather than being stuck at a desk. Leads by Example While Maintaining Her Cute Nature. Her maturity sometimes gives way to occasional childishness. She's a leader who sometimes needs to be taken care of by her followers.

Grace Howard, S rank, Anomaly, Electric attribute

Such sharp and strong lines, truly beautiful... I can't help but want to open it up and take a look. "Did you say Grace?" Wrench jumped in and answered: "Hm, she's the first person I've met nice enough to give me a massage." "She's genuinely caring," Screw quickly added: "Rather than being tightly wound, I prefer her way of tightening screws just right." Gear joined in at this point: "Her intelligent mind is alluring and elegant as a well-engaged gearbox!" "And very rational," Oil muttered: "In her dictionary, there's no room for 'a little' or 'moderate amount'. It's all precise 'milliliters'."

[abysscronica]

I think you mentioned writing a meta on Doflamingo. I'm really curious to know what you think about him. I read other analyses but I'd like to know what you add if you don't mind

I don't think I ever mentioned writing a full analysis on Doflamingo (at least I don't remember, but doesn't matter). It would take a really long time as I think Doffy is one of the most complex characters in One Piece. But I can tell you what I think of him, and I quickly re-read his flashback for the occasion.

Let's talk (briefly) about the Heavenly Demon, Doflamingo.

Oda is no stranger to incorporating the "nature versus nurture" theme into his work, and with Doflamingo he went the way of "born evil". In particular, Doflamingo shows several psychopathic traits, such as impaired empathy, narcissism, recklessness. He probably has a number of personality (mental?) disorders, such as narcissism for example, but I am no expert so I'm not going to delve into an in-depth psychiatric analysis of the character. Instead, I'm going to draw your attention to the fact he shows these traits since childhood, much before he went through unspeakable trauma.

As an eight-year-old kid, he asks for slaves and yells at people to bow before him, being upset when they didn't. I know he was born into an environment where this was normal, except... his family was different. He had kind parents that never encouraged such behavior, and in fact Rocinante never acted that way. Doflamingo's own brother thinks he was indeed born evil.

As I mentioned before, Doflamingo and Rocinante represent two faces of "nature" versus "nurture": they were born in the same family and, because of their father's naivety (or let's call it what it is, his sheer stupidity), they went through the same horrifying experiences. And neither of their opposite natures was broken by their trauma: Rocinante maintained a pure heart, and Doflamingo only found true strength to survive and fuel his manipulative, ruthless personality, including awakening his Conqueror's Haki. But while Corazon seems to have a relatively balanced personality as an adult, it's canon that Doflamingo shows a number of problems, like PTSD in the form of recurring nightmares, and irrational reactions to strong feelings, such as persistent laughter in response to deep anger. These symptoms do not appear when he's a kid, so it looks like his past may have greatly exacerbated his disorders.

Now, the reason why I find him so interesting is that, in spite of all this, Doflamingo does not seem incapable of love. Only unconditional love. As a child, he clearly cares for his mother and little brother, but he quickly loses the love for his father to anger, to the point he shows no hesitation in killing him and bringing his head to Mary Geoise. When he was eight. In this case, Doflamingo also shows no compassion toward his little brother, ignoring his pleads and desperation, and abandoning him to pursue his attempt to get back into the Holy Land. (To be fair, Doflamingo does not express genuine compassion ever).

Years later though, he accepts Rocinante into his ranks immediately, no questions asked and with full trust, just because he's his brother. Corazon only loses that bond upon betrayal, just as his father before him. Even then, Doflamingo is not happy about killing him. Not only it's one of the rare moments where he does not smile, but he says so himself. This may even be the instance where Doffy is the most upset before his downfall.

Furthermore, there are several occasions where Doflamingo is fiercely protective of his criminal family. He wipes away Baby 5's gold-digger boyfriends, he kills subordinates laughing at Pica, he expresses disappointment at Vergo's and Monet's death, and worry for Trebol. It's also said that all the children he took in where removed from horrible situations. Although... it's never clear whether it is sincere affection he feels. Or, better yet, he does care for them and he's ready to go great lengths to keep them safe, but it's unclear if there are actual feelings involved here. Let's look at the deaths for examples: he's the one ordering Monet to sacrifice herself, so we know that the members of his family must be ready to do so (we see this also when he claims that he'd raise Law so he'll be ready to die for him). And, although he does express regret and possibly anger at Vergo's death, we never see sorrow.

I personally think that Doflamingo is simply unable to feel empathy and genuine affection, so his egoistic and manipulative nature is inextricably tangled with the care he shows for his family. You cannot have one without the other, there is no selfless love in Doflamingo. And Oda uses this facts to take another of his recurrent themes, blood ties don't define "family", and give it a sinister twist.

These, in a nutshell, are the reasons why I think Doffy is probably the best villain and one of the most complex characters in One Piece. Hope you enjoyed my little rant!

[polevojhvos]

ice crew and drago headcanons

Lots of text. My native language is Ukrainian, I apologize for the clumsy text :') Warning: This is a somewhat dark and disturbing portrayal of the characters.

Age ranges from 16 to 19 years. Drago 20-21.

"Well, you creepy, aggressive, unsocialized bastard… Welcome to the family, D!!" © Ice.

dj fist

He knows the sign language of the deaf and dumb and often pretends to be such in order to avoid unwanted communication.

The most phlegmatic and balanced guy, most of the time staying on his own wave. They joke about him that if you look closely, you can even see a halo above his head. But if you piss him off very much, you need to run away very quickly, because maybe someone's legs will be broken now. Once, the Fist smashed the hood of a car, throwing a guy against it. And then he tried to catch up with him to apologize for being too rude. That was the first time Ice saw someone running so fast with a broken leg.

He bursts into anger instantly, but calms down just as quickly. There is a lot of suppressed aggression in it, which, if it explodes, will hook everyone who is nearby.

Jay is a quiet person, reserved, with a high emotional sensitivity. Basically, he is quite timid and shy. Jay aromantic. He is a Christian, so on the wrist of one hand he has chains with several small crosses wound around him. His family was very religious. He is Spanish and jokingly calls Drago "diablo" (devil).

He dislikes noisy crowds and sudden touches. It takes a long time to get used to someone new and relax enough in their presence. Therefore, he avoided Drago for a long time, maintaining a distance and not talking to him. Drago was, in principle, more than satisfied.

When their company wanders around the city, Jay always walks a little behind, feeling calm when he sees everyone and no one is behind him. When he first turned around to check where Drago had gone when he fell behind, it was a sign that Jay had accepted Drago.

He suffers from mutism, due to which he can only talk with a very limited number of people who are really close to him and whom he trusts. But against the background of stress, again, it can lose the ability to speak. He mainly communicates through gestures, especially after Drago appeared in their company. Cobra and Ice understand him well even without words. If Drago is nearby, Jay speaks in whispers or gestures.

He likes heavy rock music - it calms him down.

Jay is left-handed. As a child, he was forced to learn to use his right hand. As a teenager, he has both hands equally.

He is an independent person who does not get upset because of the lack of a partner. As a child, Jay faced coldness and rejection from guardian adults too early, because of which there is no need for attention and care - he stopped waiting for it. The need for intimacy leads to frustration, so it's easier to do without it. Instead, he prefers soulless, cold machines. The technology is silent. He especially loves motorcycles. He has one that he and Cobra have been trying to fix for a long time. He named the motorcycle Ginger, and for the first time he lost his temper and cursed loudly when Drago broke it.

He is a very strong introvert with social phobic tendencies and a high level of anxiety. Perhaps Kobra is the only one to whom he allows himself to be touched and fought in a playful way, and even then not always. He is thoughtful and organized. While the rest will argue, he will go and silently do it. He seems very cold and uninterested in what is happening around him, but he is a very gentle person, this cannot be confused with weakness.

He is the only one in the company who feels physical discomfort from the presence of Drago, due to the fact that that demon and in general treats Drago with suspicion and anxiety. Ice suspects that because the Fist is simply adequate. And also because Drago destroys his religious ideas.

He was against the presence of Drago in the company, considering him dangerous and (fuck, you both idiots? what is THAT ?!) but suffered in silence, trying to make sure that the situation did not get out of control.

At school, he played American football professionally, because his family wanted and insisted that. This rough and contact sport put him under a lot of social pressure. He was expected to be in a certain role and was a very promising player. He himself hated it and once deliberately broke his leg so that he would be left alone for at least a while. Now he sometimes limps when he is tired or nervous. At such moments, a group of friends slows down to wait for him. Usually Cobra notices it first.

Relatively good, against the background of other examples, relations with his mother, but they do not communicate now. Draws well. Street artist. He also depicts in his notebook the details for working with technology and those people who he likes. After a while, when he got used to Drago (and Drago himself became a little more adequate and socialized), he also drew him. His jacket is also painted with emoticons, symbols and other nonsense.

Jay was the one who emotionally broke down and punched Drago in the face when he insulted his mother. Drago was then poorly versed in what topics it is better not to touch on and joked evilly, trying to imitate the general topic of conversation.

(Ice: Sit down, fucking, both of you! We don't kill each other, damn, just one rule. ONE, and you're even failing here!)

He covers the lower part of his face with a bandana up to his eyes: this way he feels calmer and more confident. Safer. He also uses gloves to minimize touching people. Before he had a bandana, he experienced difficulty and stiffness when communicating with people, trying to cope with emotions. During one of the general parties (when their trio was not yet fully formed), Cobra noticed that the Fist was uncomfortable. Some guys briefly mentioned in a conversation that Jay was some kind of "frostbitten" and hearing this, he tensed even more. After that, Cobra immediately got up, disappeared somewhere for a short time, took the bandana from an unknown person and handed it to Jay. That helped.

He has a peculiarity during certain stressful situations to "disconnect" from what is happening around him, as if nothing is happening. You can even dismember someone before his eyes at such moments, he will not notice. This creates its own problems, because at the moments when Cobra can have another suicidal incident, Ice has to deal with it himself. However, Fist can provide emotional support on a lighter and more unobtrusive level, and in the very first situation where Cobra had a minor nervous breakdown, he showed Ice how to support a person. In the future, he tries not to do this, being very exhausted from such situations.

He has a peculiarity during certain stressful situations to "disconnect" from what is happening around him, as if nothing is happening. You can even dismember someone before his eyes at such moments, he will not notice. This creates its own problems, because at the moments when Cobra can have another suicidal incident, Ice has to deal with it himself. However, Fist can provide emotional support on a lighter and more unobtrusive level, and in the very first situation where Cobra had a minor nervous breakdown, he showed Ice how to support a person. In the future, he tries not to do this, being very exhausted from such situations.

In childhood and adolescence, his emotions and desires were devalued. The environment inspired him that everything he experienced was wrong, as a result of which he felt a ban on emotions. So Jay protected himself with emotional coldness and covered his face with a cloth. Feels vulnerable without her. The family was very demanding of him, so he used to be perfect. While in the company, he is mostly silent and enjoys this pastime. Jay is a good listener, and according to Ice, one of the most interesting people he has ever met. Of course, when he wants to talk.

strikemaster ice

Ice psychopath.

He is a shrewd and extremely calculating shitass. He is cunning, cruel and can get out of any shit without any problems. He adapts easily. He is good at manipulating people and finding a common language with everyone, which is why he is so easy to keep with Drago on an equal footing. He makes fun of Drago, waiting for a response and shamelessly grinning. He speaks calmly, touches without fear. And he always very subtly felt the necessary dangerous edge, before which he had to slow down and back away without causing a wave of rage.

Drago is more tolerant of him than the others because Ice doesn't try to please him. On the contrary, he behaved like an uncompromising asshole. To be completely honest, Ice even impressed him, as far as it is generally possible in relation to people. Therefore, Drago treated most of the annoying things in his performance by an order of magnitude more indulgent. Yes, and his cigarettes stank differently, less caustic than Cobra's. Ice also never played staring with him. Drago was sure, understood their deep meaning. Therefore, he consciously avoided the conflict. Because I wouldn't look away. So many familiar qualities Drago felt in him.

He is indifferent to people, except for a few. To the inner social circle, he developed a semblance of emotional attachment. To the rest of the world, people whom he does not consider his own - absolute ruthlessness.

Pyromaniac. He carries a lighter with him everywhere and loves to watch the fire. He is fascinated by Drago's ability to control fire. Like Drago, Aisa laughs at violence and their sense of humor is quite similar.

Ice's parents were lawyers. He had a fairly wealthy and respected family, which Ice voluntarily abandoned in favor of life on the street, wandering aimlessly around the world. They demanded a lot from him, completely controlling his life, regardless of his opinion, interests and desires. In this he is similar to Drago, and on this basis they felt solidarity with each other.

Ice has a younger sister. Their parents did not leave them alone when, at the age of four, Ice began to frighten them with his behavior and lack of the necessary reactions, at that time he had not yet had time to learn the rules of social interaction. Ice is skeptical about this as he would never hurt his sister because…why would he do that? It doesn't make any sense. As a child, Ice wanted a pet snake. Accidentally killed a house cat. Then he was presented with a hamster, in the hope of accustoming him to responsibility and care for a living creature. When he died of natural hamster death, the parents discreetly replaced him with a similar live hamster, not knowing that the son was already aware of Peanut's death. Surprised that the hamster suddenly "came to life", trying to understand the phenomenon of life and death, Ice killed the next Mr. Peanuts until they found out about it. In principle, he is glad that this was noticed before his experiments would have moved to larger objects - the neighbor's kids.

After his parents watched the movie "The Good Son" they finally had a tantrum. From an early age, Ice often visited psychiatrists who were not the most competent and quickly learned to deceive them. With the same success, sometimes he managed to pretend to take preparation when his parents noticed oddities in his behavior and tried to cure him in this way. Because of this, Ice developed an allergy. Once he was in a psychiatric hospital and even visited church several times. For Ice, these establishments seem the same. His parents wanted him to continue the family tradition and also become lawyers. It was boring for him. The only plus: he knows the laws well. Instantly puts on the right "mask" at the sight of the cops.

When Ice realized that he was tired of pretending, he began to rebel and eventually left the house to hang out on the streets. Periodically, he appears at very rare family gatherings, as this is part of his contract with his parents. They failed to cope with him, because there were absolutely no levers of pressure on Ice. And to some extent, his stubborn father still believes that they are punishing him like that and that Ice "will walk a little and do nonsense, understand that it's terrible and the world is terrible, and repentantly return home on his own" But Ice is cool and he is absolutely everything satisfied.

He had chickenpox - there were scars on his face.

He laughs when he is called a maniac and stereotypes about psychopaths in general.

Ice is a very loyal and reliable friend if he thinks you are worthy of his attention. He has cognitive empathy, his own code of conduct. He has a peculiar concept of love and he can go a much more complicated and long way with you than a typical person.

Unless he is upset if you suddenly die. If you are loyal to him, that loyalty will be mutual. He's invested in this relationship and he'll kill anyone who threatens you. Literally. He doesn't have to wear masks in front of his friends, and he appreciates that. He protects those who care about him, those whom he qualifies as: 'mine'.

Gay. He said this during a family dinner at Christmas to annoy conservative parents and relatives, and then it turned out that he was not joking. Ice found out that he was actually gay during one of his fights with his cousin and a specific body reaction during it. Then they broke his nose, because he thought from surprise and was distracted, but he does not regret it.

Usually Cobra jokingly calls him a slut. Ice often changes partners, essentially having fun with short flings. He likes older guys and "plays normal" by pretending to be someone else he isn't. Then he uses his real name, not a nickname. In general, Ice and Cobra call each other a lot and frankly in friendly skirmishes, which in turn confuses Drago. Drago generally does not understand well when people actually swear, fight or flirt, and when they are fooling around.

He is characterized by complete fearlessness, violation of rules and prohibitions. Dulled nervous system. Ice has a very high pain threshold due to a stable autonomic system. Smart enough to mask his destructive behavior. Emotionally poor, but some things cause him a strong emotional reaction, although he is good at controlling these short impulses.

He tries to control facial expressions (his face does not express anything, and his eyes are distant) and almost always smiles in order to win people over and so that Cobra does not get nervous. At the first meeting, Cobra was frightened by the fact that Ice had a fixed and very attentive look. Without blinking or looking away, he looked into his eyes for a long time, refraining from talking and simply observing, evaluating. Sometimes it happens that Ice forgets what emotion he should portray: if you tell him a terrible story from life, his face will remain cold and insensitive until he catches himself and gives out the proper reaction.

Very vengeful, never forgives. If Ice has more important needs, he satisfies those first. He will not take revenge if he did not set it as a purposeful goal, but he will remember the offender.

In a conflict situation, he feels comfortable. Extreme situations are his comfort zone.

Drago noticed that Ice was different from other people. He never changed the rhythm of the heartbeat, pulse, breathing rate. It reacts to extreme situations where it should have been frightened, only with aggression or complete composure.

Cunning, smart and rational to the point of cynicism. Self-confident, able to ingratiate himself in a matter of seconds. It scans a person and understands where you need to agree with him, and where to smile, and where to flatter, and where to support.

He wears social masks and gives the right reaction for any psychotype. A large file of emotional reactions accumulated over the years. Periodically, Ice looks at Fist and asks with a look what kind of emotional reaction he should give out. Cobra is inadequate, Ice would not ask his opinion on this matter.

Hates sweets, but loves licorice. Cobra is horrified by this, since licorice is terribly not tasty and can only be liked by very inadequate people, according to Cobra.

He has a pronounced propensity for dominance, but does not like being in charge of anything too much.

He developed dyscalculia (which I think is the canon of the series, because he finds it difficult to calculate the simplest arithmetic example. As a person with dyscalculia, I will say that I saw a kindred spirit in him at that moment).

He is severely motion sick on the subway until he vomits and these are the only moments of weakness that he allows himself.

He believes that ideals do not exist, and that all generally accepted standards do not make sense. Therefore, the brain melts that it is impossible to reach them. And you don't need them, these ideals, really. Here, Ice met with Drago on the grounds that Shendu crushed his son under his template, imposing his way of thinking, dreams and expectations on him. From the very childhood, he laid down the installations and formed them within his own framework.

Ice likes Drago, but he is still wary of him, making sure that Drago's conflicts with other members of their small party do not develop into something serious and gets into a showdown in time.

Ice is also the one who manages to calm Cobra when he has another nervous breakdown.

He smokes marijuana, which is why he is always so casually calm. He likes alcohol, against which background conflicts arise with Cobra, who despises alcohol and is generally afraid of drunk people.

Ice likes to participate in underground fights, getting paid for it, because he is a good fighter and knows that he can beat almost anyone in a fight. So far, he has never lost.

Ice collects animal skulls and teeth. Once they dug up a corpse in the cemetery so that Drago would get the ingredients for the spell and Ice would take skull. Sometimes he jokingly says that he likes Drago's skull. Cobra does not exclude the possibility that Ice would dismember Drago and take his skull if he suddenly died.

Based on Cobra's words, Ice has already killed people. The first time it happened was when he was attacked by a local maniac. Ice doesn't feel pain, so getting stabbed gives him the advantage of surprise. He has his own philosophy about the alpha predator. As a rule, if he is threatened, for a start, Ice makes a "warning shot" that it is better not to mess with him, and if everything is really bad and he feels real danger, he eliminates the source of the threat without a drop of regret. Ice took the tooth of that person as a trophy for himself.

Usually he neglects his own safety and the safety of others, not thinking about the consequences. However, if he likes a person, he can literally kill for him. Therefore, he has his own "list" of people whom he eliminates in one way or another (not necessarily killing) in order to protect Cobra or avenge him. Cobra is still upset and doesn't understand why one of his friends committed suicide. In that situation, Ice was the one who harassed and harassed this man, due to the fact that he almost drove Cobra to suicide.

In a situation where Drago complained about how tired he was of the Chans and especially Jackie Chan, one of the suggestions that came out was from Ice: "Well … can I kill him then?" to which, in turn, Cobra reacted aggressively and negatively, recalling that Ice swore that there would be no more killings. To which Ice already reminded that he was a liar. Cobra's option was to accuse Jackie of molesting minors by posing as a victim. And Jay generally ignored it and painted.

Speaking of which, I really liked one expression that I once heard from a psychopath (not personally, I don’t know this person) It will not be verbatim, but the general essence is preserved: "It's not true that we have empathy. I like people, but I like them like a cool tea set or a cool pet. These things are valuable to me. But if they break, I will not feel sorry for them, but myself, because I lost them, and not because this person died. I may not understand why you can be scared if I beat your offender so hard that he does not dare to harm you anymore. I do not understand such deep things, and emotions on the surface are too mechanical. But I care about you, if you are of value to me, I want you to be safe and feel good." And I see Ice just like that.

Drago realizes that Ice is more dangerous than the rest and perceives him as a direct competitor to his authority.

Ice is the only one in the company who really knows martial arts (his parents sent him to Thai boxing so that he could find where to spend his energy) A very good and dangerous fighter, but at one time his first worthy opponent was Kobra, who was used to fighting in a street and almost animal style " fight or die": dirty, fast and in every possible way. The Сobra bit him hard on the palm and tore his cheek with his teeth, and also broke his eyebrow, leaving a visible scar.

In general, Ice and Cobra fight a lot as friends to fool around.

Drago is annoyed that Ice has a lot of different stupid words in his speech and how careless he is, so he was very surprised when, left alone, Ice spoke to him normally. Usually alone with Drago, he switches to coherent speech.

Ice has a reserved style of clothing. Army boots, a cloak with a hood - specially torn and darned again, covered with stripes.

He has a habit of giving nicknames to his friends and not giving their nicknames when talking about them to other people. Therefore, Cobra is a weirdo / mad dog, Jay is a frostbitten hippie, and Drago is a psycho dinosaur.

"Ice… he's not bad! He's not evil and doesn't rejoice in other people's suffering. He just doesn't understand them. Not everyone understands him either." - © Cobra.

mc cobra

Stable cruelty formed an unstable personality.

Cobra has an emotionally unstable personality disorder (borderline type). It is also borderline personality disorder (BPD), teetering on the verge of turning into schizophrenia over time under adverse conditions. In addition to the advanced form of the disease, Cobra is very, very unstable for many reasons.

He got his nickname because of his demeanor: calmness can turn into aggression and attack at any unpredictable moment. Doesn't remember his name or his own age, thanks to his memory blocking most of his negative memories. Sometimes his memory is "overloaded" and he recalls passages from his childhood. He usually has a brief episode of tantrums afterwards.

Forked "snake" tongue (split tongue), artificially pointed fangs and craving for black eyeliner. He carries a knife, but he never used it to hurt someone. Only to himself. He doesn't use a knife in fights. A lot of bracelets on his hands - he collects as a reminder of the friends who gave them to him. I received my first bracelet when the older guy noticed how he hides scars behind his sleeve and gave him his bracelet. In fact, he is gray-haired (due to the huge amount of stress he suffered in childhood), so he dyes his hair in bright colors and periodically changes its length. He does not allow anyone to touch his hair except Ice, or if some girl wants to comb his hair, it makes him laugh. He constantly smokes, smoking several packs a day, calming down in this way. Drago doesn't like the smell of smoke so he tries to throw out his cigarettes.

"What is this rubbish?" "What are you, a cop?"

He has restless fingers. If the Cobra does not smoke, then he simply twirls something in his hands, sorts out his hair, knuckles, or strokes his wrists. Constantly something chews: apples or lollipops. Almost always, he taps his foot and jerks his head, quickly tilting it to his shoulder when he is especially nervous, which causes his neck to hurt. (it will really hurt if you jerk your head from the slightest nervous excitement, it’s an unpleasant thing, I don’t recommend it :)) Curiously, Cobra never gets nervous around Drago.

The same cheerful dude in the company who jokes a lot (at the same time, about death and other terrible things), laughs hysterically as if for the last time in his life. Looks a little crazy. Pretend stupidity hides an extremely lively and sharp mind. He thinks it's better for people to think you're dumber than you really are - if people underestimate you, then you'll always have an advantage.

It seems that he is absolutely not afraid of anything and no one, fitting into all possible adventures.

Cobra is talking. A lot. Everything at once and nothing at the same time. With all the desire that was not there, Drago would not have been able to follow this stormy stream of chaotic thoughts. He just learned not to delve into and maintain a distance.

Cobra had habit of touching the interlocutor while chatting, shoving him in the most sophisticated ways, trying to grab his arm or shoulder with enviable stubbornness. Look into eyes, make sure that he is being listened to. His manner was impetuous and impatient.

He is extremely friendly, very talkative and friendly. Usually tries to be closer to people and physically clings to them, may begin to bite from an excess of positive emotions. Therefore, if you do not know him, it is hard to expect a sudden aggressive reaction from him. Cobra has a bad reputation as an extremely dangerous and psychotic asshole. At first, when he and Ice first met, Cobra's condition was much worse than now, when friends have learned to regulate his condition a little. And although he very sincerely sought to communicate, the rest of the teenagers were afraid of him. In fact, only Ice can be with him for a long time and not react negatively to any of his antics and mood swings. Periodically, Cobra may begin to cry or hysteria, catching an insignificant trigger and when his nervous system is overloaded.

He loves trouble and often draws others into the adventure, due to his extremely unstable emotional behavior and dangerous rash antics. Very empathic and sensitive, but at the same time very emotional and impulsive.

A stressful childhood is the sponsor of a good sense of humor in adolescence!

He can be called the soul of the company, a cheerful and sociable guy, but inside he has a real hell. He's in a lot of pain, he's in a lot of pain. His smile is a protective grin. He laughs because of terrible things, but at any second he is ready to cry. Drago sees inside him a huge black hole and does not realize what it is and what to do with it. Drago knows how to feel the emotions of people, and at first did not understand why he "hears" screams or requests for help, although everyone is calm or even laughing.

("The world is a bastard place and I along with it. How the hell does it hurt. I can't take it anymore. Help, please, someone, I beg you".)

Very tactful and respectful towards girls. It will be enough if someone on the street emits an obscene whistle and confuses the girl with this, Cobra will silently turn around and break his face. Likes to refer to girls as "missy" as a diminutive form of the word "miss". Despite the general instability, in certain things he is as safe as possible and will be the person who, at a general party, sits next to a sleeping girl and patiently waits until she comes to her senses. Those who know about this can specifically go to bed next to him if they feel anxious, but they want to sleep, but they don’t leave the party. Among those who know Cobra, this is called "taking the safest place in the house next to the most dangerous who is in it"

Cobra is sharpened for survival. He is like a fighting dog who has learned to survive on the streets. Therefore, few people contact him if we understand who he is dealing with. Cobra is frankly inadequate. He is called a "mad dog" because of his demeanor, his habit of biting (during fights or when he likes someone). He became very attached to Ice and keeps him a dog's devotion, at first he literally followed him everywhere. Ice uses him a little, but appreciates him. For many, it is strange that they were able to make friends, especially considering that Cobra is wary of gays. In the circle of a large company, they made bets on how it would all end, when Cobra began to follow Ice everywhere and seek his attention. Cobra can be overprotective, so at first he would react aggressively to any joke towards Ice that he could consider offensive, but Ice managed to stop him easily.

Kobra has a heightened sense of justice, but is very easy to manipulate, which Ice takes advantage of.

You don't have to try hard to please him. As Ice noted, he is like a dog that will follow whoever pets it. Strong tactile hunger and the desire to be closer to a person as a compensatory mechanism for loneliness. Drago characterizes him as an energy vampire.

He likes dry dog food. He always has dog snacks in his backpack to feed them. Sometimes he spends time in a guy's workshop helping him fix cars and gets some money for it, although he always tries to refuse them. In fact, he just likes to spend time with that man, perhaps this is the only adult who does not cause rejection in Cobra. He generally does not know how to trust adults.

In childhood and adolescence, Kobra faced unwanted attention from adults and observed this in other people's examples.

("Have you ever been invited to the basement to play with kittens?” "I don't like animals. And I have brains". - Ice. "Hey, I know my worth! If there is at least not a puppy, then we have nothing to talk about. You didn't have a childhood at all." "Yeah, I always dreamed of being called to the basement, and now I'm taller than them, and no one else is calling." "I'm your mom's friend from work, I'll give you a ride home, blah blah blah. In short, sometimes I even got chocolates and managed to escape. They are idiots, they think children are stupid. God, I love those times! It was fun. And now we just fuck them. It's sad when you're past the age of cuteness. They don't even need you anymore." … "sometimes he scares me".

"Sometimes?")

A successful pickpocket and sometimes for fun steals some little things from Drago, passing by and accidentally "pushing". Cobra generally touches friends all the time, even if you just pass by at an accessible distance.

Cobra is a child with high neurotic sensitivity and high intelligence, who was not lucky enough to be born in a very aggressive environment. Since childhood, he actually survived, constantly being in a state of stress, tension and readiness for defense: at home and on the street. Everything frightens him, the world around him is evil and dangerous. He is quite gentle and loving, but the disease destroys his life and makes the life of everyone who is close enough to him a living hell. He experiences a sudden and strong emotional reaction to any minor stimuli. Prone to impulsive, aggressive, and self-destructive behavior due to constant boredom and feelings of emptiness within. Left alone with himself, he is devoured by emptiness and horror from the inside, and he does various rash acts to fill the hole inside himself and drown out these feelings, thus relieving tension and unloading the nervous system. Cobra fills the silence with dancing, loud music, fights and relationships.

He is very afraid of being stuck in one of his bad states forever, so he made Ice swear to him that Ice will kill him if he realizes that everything is too bad and Cobra goes crazy.

Inclinations to self-harm are manifested, which is expressed in knocked down knuckles, the desire to cut oneself on the forearm with something. Gnawing on his knuckles and putting out cigarettes on his palm. Hides scars under bracelets. Sometimes he is overcome by prolonged hysterical laughter. He hates himself when he takes it out on people close to him.

Cobra has no internal brakes and protective mechanisms of the psyche. It skids like a car on a bend. But in a truly dangerous situation, he is collected and calm when other people start to panic.

He is very, very sincere: when he loves and when he hates. Can't pretend.

This will be the same person who, without understanding what is happening, breaks into someone else's fight with the best of intentions and generally everyone will suffer.

Very difficult relationships with people. Insanely afraid of becoming abandoned and rejected, has an obsessive need for another person. He needs acceptance and constant confirmation that he is loved here and now. Permanent. Poorly understands how to build close relationships, so they are often stormy and unstable, characterized by frequent conflicts. He mimics other people's personalities well and communicates with everyone in a tone of light semi-flirting, easily gaining their affection. However, exactly until the moment when he breaks again. He likes "good girls". He is drawn to something sweet and stable, ordinary life, tenderness and warmth. Somewhat obsessed with one girl: usually quickly switching to another girlfriend, in this situation, Cobra still periodically begins to suffer due to the breakdown of that "special" relationship and tries to return her. They met when he found and returned her lost cat.

Cobra can be considered a fetishist, but he is strained by "bad" feteshes. Therefore, he quickly broke up with a girl who wanted him to slap her, and who confused him and scared him that when she screamed "no!" he stopped touching her, and she was angry that he should not have stopped. Ice laughed at this story, and Drago was caught not fucking understanding what they were talking about.

According to one of his rambling stories, he began sharpening his teeth after several failed kidnap attempts as a child. He grew up with the feeling and awareness that the world is dangerous and adapted to such a reality. All the attributes in his appearance are somehow created to protect himself. Piercing minimizes the likelihood of becoming a victim of human trafficking. Fangs are an additional weapon. He interrupts his smell with nicotine so that evil spirits cannot smell him.

As a child, he was systematically abused by his father, until one of the escapes from home was successful. Cobra loved him and feared him at the same time. His father broke his jaw once. His mother had the same disease as him. Mother died after swallowing pills. After that, Cobra developed fear, manifested in the fact that he begins to panic wake up those who are sleeping too quietly. A huge fear of being abandoned and rejected is expressed in the desire to prevent this in a new relationship by all means. He has a lot of scars (not counting his face, because he is a good fighter) and one particular long cut on his palm. As a child, he caught a knife with which his father tried to hit his wife - Cobra's mother.

The Cobra is full of impulsiveness and is capable of dangerous acts during mood swings. He is usually quite cheerful, spontaneous and behaves like a child. The world either delights him or frightens him. He is very empathic, but there is a lot of pain and anger in him.

Androgynous appearance, which is stuck somewhere in the middle and Cobra inclines her one way, then the other - according to her mood. Ice says he has "fucking Bambi" eyes.

Sleepwalker. During his periods of sleepwalking, Cobra was able to get to know Drago and interact with him. Drago explained this by the fact that, as a magical creature, he is constantly on two frequencies, so Cobra "saw" him.

He has the skill of extreme vocals, surprising Drago with the ability to growl, wheeze and squeal like a demon.

Sharply emotionally attached due to an insignificant external factor / stimulus, therefore he accepted Drago into the company with delight.

He really likes Drago, he sincerely loves him, so he constantly spins around, satisfying the need to communicate with him through comic fights, provoking. If you don't want to peacefully give him what he wants, then a fight will do too. Either hug him or die in a fight xD He will still hug you in the process. Drago is to some extent flattered by such attention and enthusiasm in general for everything he does, but more often it annoys him. Sometimes Drago doesn't mind supporting the game, but is much ruder in behavior and can accidentally cripple. Because of Drago, there are a lot of bruises and scratches on Cobra's skin, but this is the lesser evil that happens when you want to be friends with a demon.

Ice says that Cobra only has such an enthusiastic reaction to children and animals to annoy Drago.

Cobra is shaking as if from cold, his nose is bleeding and sometimes he is sick due to being too close to Drago. Drago emits a large amount of powerful evil energy.

Vegan. Very aggressive vegan. It makes him sick to see one creature eating another. The sight of blood does not frighten him, the very fact of devouring disgusts him. He loves animals, especially dogs, which is mostly due to the death of his beloved dog in childhood. Cobra met Ice because Ice kicked a cat. It ended in a fight, a police station and a friendship. Member of the Animal Liberation Front (ALF). At the same time, he calmly perceives that Drago is a natural predator and can eat another creature.

He experiences painful uncontrollable emotions: abandonment, uselessness, helplessness. In animals and small children, he sees his traumatized part.

He splashed out anger and rage on himself or others, objects. His outburst of anger debilitates him. The hole in his chest opens with bloody wounds and gapes with emptiness. Joy and anger leave him.

Loves to read. Reads a lot. Especially Stephen King. If you know what book he is reading, you can understand what mood he will be in. Has a habit of temporarily adopting character traits and behaviors of characters. He also loves TV shows about vampires, especially Buffy.

Plays guitar. Favorite bon jovi song is Livin on a prayer. This song is very important to him. The cobra involuntarily hums it, usually to calm down. He no longer remembers that episode from his life, but with the same song he calmed down his very little sister, himself a child, when his parents quarreled in the next room. The Misfits are my favorite musical group. He loves heavy music, which allows him to help deal with mental pain.

When he feels himself on edge, he exhausts himself in the most harmless way - a chaotic aggressive dance.

The emotional scale of fear is broken. In deep childhood, due to a weakened emotional state, he was attacked by a dark entity that fed on fear. This creature came at night and guarded him, tormented him mentally, watching through the window. She came to the smell of carrion, because Kobra was already practically dying, psychologically crippled. Cobra's father killed his dog because it barked at night and then Cobra was left all alone against the whole world. This continued until the creature got very close for the final attack and received a cold wave of tired NOTHING in response. At that moment, Cobra's psyche finally cracked, which saved him. He just suddenly became so spit that the emotions turned off. Subsequently, this was reflected in the fact that he learned to notice supernatural beings and react extremely calmly to this.

He is afraid of hallucinations, periodically asking if something seemed to him. At first thought that Drago was his hallucination.

He is not at all afraid of Drago, or his aggressive attacks, or anything at all that confuses Drago in order. Only once did Drago manage to really scare him, taking him by surprise when he suddenly waved his hand like a man, evoking not the best trigger memories in Cobra. Cobra tries to befriend him and is subconsciously drawn to him by passive suicidal tendencies, in an effort to have Drago hurt him.

Cobra is afraid of adult men and often says that he will never grow up, because adults are fucked up and he definitely will not become like that. To some extent, this is a hint that he wants to commit suicide. (a situation with a common hangout of different random people: "I'm afraid of men". - a familiar girl. "Me too. These guys are creepy". - Cobra. "But you"…

"I'm not an adult. And I will never be". …. "Ice." "What?" "I don't think Cobra is okay". "Can't be". "I'm serious. He's practically voiced his desire for suicide to me now!" "I don't understand, who do you think I am, his mother? Why, if he does some crap, does everyone immediately run to me? .. Cobra, spit it out! Or I'll come and get it myself! That's it, I'm watching. So what did you say? He is an independent person, I do not interfere in his affairs".)

Cobra is also angry at Ice, because he starts relationships with guys much older and once broke one such guy's legs, accusing him of pedophilia. After that, Ice keeps his relationship as far away from his friends as possible.

He was the first to show Drago friendliness because… FUCK YOUR FUCK THIS IS A DRAGON! Can we keep it for ourselves? You are cool, dude. Do you want candy?

Cobra eats sweets, a lot. Let it kill him better than the lack of endorphins. And he likes to get everyone together to spend time chatting or playing something. When they walk around the city, the Cobra will usually start walking very close and push the other person out of the way. When he involuntarily began to do this with Drago, he pushed him with his shoulder and threw him somewhere into the bushes.

It is worth mentioning that he applies methods of communication to everyone like with dogs: feed, scratch behind the ear.

Clothing: bovver boots with a high shaft and intricate lacing. Heavy leather jacket, lots of iron. Drago at first believed that it was a talisman against weak evil spirits.

General headcanon and other little things:

People in the understanding of Drago build complex and intricate social bonds. And he did not always correctly understand gestures and assess their meaning, which at times created certain … difficulties. Human beings are strange and very illogical creatures. Too complicated. Drago found himself thinking too often lately that he didn't seem to know anything about them at all.

Drago and the punks often hang out on the football field when no one is there after hours. In this place you can indulge in melancholy and just chat about different things. When they quarreled and stopped communicating for a while, Drago would come there alone because of the sudden feeling of loneliness and was angry that no one else was there.

Cobra sees Ice as a stable figure. Strong, self-confident, understandable, stable, who knows what she wants from life. Trying to stabilize himself at his expense. Basically, why does he have a fetish for "good girls". Stable, calm and safe. He really wants this island of calm, and he sincerely falls in love with such a person, until he disappoints him with the fact that he cannot stand the suffocating adoration. Ice gets high from the emotional gushing of Cobra, compensating for this lack of emotions in himself. Cobra is cool, it's not boring with him. And pathological boredom is Ice's main problem. The trouble is that it's fun with Cobra due to the fact that he is so crazy from the hell inside himself that he tries to drown him out with adrenaline and other craziness. Ice says that it seems that Cobra behaves like either a very angry grandfather, or a three-year-old, and somewhere in the middle he is real, but it is not known which of these is worse. Ice's plus is that he divides everyone into strangers and his own. And he appreciates and loves his own, in a peculiar way, but he loves, and oh, how Kobra needs love.

The difference is that Ice and Jay chose this life consciously because they wanted to, while Cobra was forced to adapt in order to survive.

Drago has a sharp specific smell like a demon. It smells like death, iron, fumes and blood. Ice says that Drago stinks of carrion. Drago also has a nervous tic: he twists the corner of his mouth and licks his fangs when he is nervous. Ice noticed it right away.

Cobra gives Drago many nicknames, like: Dag, Daggert, D-Rex, Beast and others. He also taught him bad words and various interesting gestures, with which Drago subsequently shocked the impressionable Jackie.

Drago has a habit of silently grabbing a person and dragging him along the ground if he needs to move somewhere or call to follow him. Cobra doesn't mind, he even has fun.

Drago believes that people with green eyes should beware. They are sorcerers. Vicious predators lurking in a simple human form.

Ice sees Drago as a victim of domestic violence and, in principle, they all immediately took Drago for their own just because of this factor. The broken help the broken.

Drago can become ill with something like schizophrenia, since Shendu had sons before he was born and they all went crazy and were killed. Drago confessed this to the guys when they were all stoned after Drago had his first tantrum in his life amid the loss of fire magic and the general pressure from his father and his own high expectations. Too much anger, fear and disappointment broke him down. In fact, the guys were betting how fast Drago would have a nervous breakdown, see how tense he is and work himself up. Welcome to the world of teenagers: we have disappointments, betrayals and other jokes here. Don't forget to buckle up. Communication with people and thus balancing the two opposites inside Drago can help him not to repeat the fate of other unsuccessful children of Shendu.

Drago did not understand people well. Even worse - these people. But he had to reluctantly admit to himself that he found more and more attractive things in their society. Ice said that each person is a unique individual. Individuality occupied a rather significant place in their philosophy. You don't need to compare yourself to anyone. Be who you are and be happy. At the same time send to hell those who do not agree with this.

Drago is angry that people are constantly cheating. That friendly and calm - dangerous killers. That cold and indifferent are the kindest. And those who laugh a lot and are not afraid of death keep scars on their skin and are afraid to live.

And here are a few photos that I saw and I liked them. These guys are somewhat similar to how I see these characters.

[anthonybialy]

Rating Josh Allen Goes Over

There are just not enough thoughts shared about Josh Allen.  Get in a couple extra takes before kickoff.  A player who’s the focus of not just the Buffalo Bills but the league has become so ubiquitous that thorough social media searches encounter fanciful notions about the nature of his awesomeness.  Unreal play leads to unreal takes on both sides.  It’s not just the messiah-style praise offered by congregants: hearing how he’s overrated is commonplace enough to be tiresome.  Haters use each other as sources.

Imagine him at full strength.  Fans have to think all the way back to 2021, which is a challenge if you’re struggling to recall what was for dinner two nights ago.  Our most recent football mental images feature Superman with kryptonite duct-taped to his elbow.  Playing hurt is a testament to toughness on top of an invaluable skill set.

Learning what a UCL is was one of last season’s 87 million low points.  Watching a football hero cope with a restricted throwing motion is not a fun way to discover what’s going on under skin.

It’s easy to avoid failure by never pursuing anything chancy.  Get nothing done to minimize low points.  Sure, there won’t be any high ones, either, but level living bores those who need the thrill of mentions filled with justified vitriol.  As for real risk-takers, they experience the widest range of emotions by daring to wager.  The greatest successes necessarily involve exposure to hazard.  Ranking Allen below Tua doesn’t count.

The balance between dashing and foolhardy is tough to maintain during the fraction of a second it takes to determine if an attempt is worthwhile.  Allen perhaps pushed the needle a bit too much into the reckless zone last year.  Boxing judges award rounds for effective aggression.  Charging boldly into an uppercut meets only one of the two criteria.

But the downside of the wrong player fielding occasional passes is worth accepting from someone who singlehandedly changed a franchise’s fortune.  The difference between Buffalo’s seemingly endless drought and current bounty is exactly one player.  We’re already accustomed to how comfortable it is to know Allen is there.  The Bills are already past the point where they presume he’ll keep them in games and seasons.

Allen must adjust to losing not only occasional games but also privacy.  Complaining about paparazzi caring about what he's doing off the field disregards how he’s a public figure even outside of Bills Country.  Buffalo’s most prominent citizen should know the time to worry is when nobody cares what you do.

There are more productive ways to spend a monotonous offseason than constructing daft theories about superstars who aren’t.  Alternate reality enthusiasts manipulate statistics in a way that’d make Capitol staffers blush.  Delusions that should get one banished from polite football society are promoted by the similarly deluded who insist there are four feet in a yard.  Insulation from human contact while interacting with humans is one of the delights of online living.

A more accurate but similarly imbecilic scenario involves noting there may be one human better at this job.  Rankings can be harmless fun as long as there’s no implication that a silver medal is pathetic.

Measuring ourselves against others is a sure way to feel unsatisfied.  I suppose that’s what sports are.  Nevertheless, Allen is a fantastic success by his own standard.  He’s achieved a tremendous amount at age 27 even if he obviously has unfulfilled goals.  The fact that needs to be stated reflects the mute button’s value.

The only thing worse than trolling is the unintentional version.  You can get upset at Twitter crackpots explaining why Allen is ranked near the bottom of the AFC East’s quarterbacks, much less those in the entire NFL.  Or you can laugh and wait for more results to prove how far deviants strayed from truth.

Allen didn’t get to be this prominent.  Didn’t you heed naysayers?  Pretending inaccuracy’s a fundamental problem that can’t be remedied with better receivers is another example of why you should never listen to Troy Aikman under any circumstances.

A winning record only begins to reflect impact.  Tracking statistics instead of watching games isn’t merely a myopic deficiency for fantasy football zealots who only want an accumulation of numbers.  Enjoying the sport is based around observing not many people can do.  There are at most a few individuals on Earth better than Allen at his job.

The preferred hobby of the miserable is fun for everyone else when nothing they bitch about comes true.  The good news is narratives don’t affect games.  Proclaiming how life is with self-satisfaction is its own punishment when reality plods on with indifference.  The little matter of whether or not opinions conform to actuality is left out of standings.

Let the endless prattle of preposterous framing continue.  Football will drown out jibber jabber in a few days.  Hearing why Allen’s allegedly a reckless turnover machine has provided comfort during the offseason to backers of teams not blessed to have him on their rosters.

The best and worst thing about the internet is unedited content.  Not having someone offer perspective with a quick scan of a tweet or Facebook post leads to unfiltered content.  Readers assess who should be ignored just like quarterbacks calculate the appropriateness of any try to advance the football.  Allen’s success rate far exceeds those of his harshest critic.  Some opinion generators could use recalibration.  Um, that doesn’t apply to this column.  

[anonofseasons]

I find Vivian interesting because I kinda feel like his age is part of the problem. He seems like he's be too prideful to really be able to own up to his mistakes in general but add on that he's several hundred years old and I just know that trying to get him to admit any wrong-doing is like trying to get blood from a stone. -🫖

This ask makes me so happy. Thank you for sharing your take! It's validating to see people dislike Vivian for being abusive, but when I present characters, I hope they're dimensional enough to give people pause to think about what's going on and where that comes from, as well as why it might be accepted. Well, if the readers want to do so. I won't demand or expect it, obviously. I'm just here to write what comes into my head. When I share it, well, what happens happens from there. All the "let's beat up Vivian" responses are--I assume--in good fun. At least, that's the way I take them. ;) I'm going to ramble, so I'll put the rest behind a cut to spare everyone who wants to avoid hearing the author's thoughts on a character when they'd like to formulate their own. And to spare everyone the length. I'll try to navigate around spoilers as best I can.

I love that you bring up Viv's age, because it's a huge factor in multiple ways. Firstly, it means that he's used to much more outdated ideas about how to raise children and his values in general. And the "present" of this world is only marginally better. To sum it up: He's old-fashioned. The mention about pride and hundreds of years... Yes! Who has kept him in check over the past few centuries? Graham? No. We know that's not the case--by ch 24, it blatantly states that there's a power imbalance. Graham is dependent upon Viv to live. Graham has tried to convince him that certain things are bad. But Vivian mostly redefines how he's treating his children, so it's like turning a circle into an oval. It's different! Except not by much. Vivian doesn't hate his children. But his definitions of love are fucked up. (And I hesitate to be too real here, but I've dealt with too many IRL people who aren't dissimilar. They treat their "wonderful kids" like garbage. I came from such a background with my bio family.) Viv cares about his children's happiness and welfare up to the point it becomes inconvenient or upsetting for him. And he's happy to maintain control. And when he loses control--sees it slipping from him--he reacts very badly, as seen in the earlier chapters as Howie "presses his luck" with his father. When El does the same. They're challenging his balance. And the realm he has created within his estate is full of comfortable routine and habit. He is also genuinely terrified of one of them dying. Graham or one of the kids. Death is something he understands but has seldom experienced, and it's also someplace he will never be able to follow if everyone around him dies. Viv is old-fashioned, controlling, physically attractive, at times incredibly manipulative, and he's terrifyingly powerful. That's one hell of a combination. I feel like I'm saying way too much as the author, which is another reason I put a read more line. I used "cut" earlier, and I'm not changing it, even if it shows my age. That way people can skip it. I want everyone to have their own thoughts and takes about this character. I want people to be free to hate him, or even call him a DILF, or whatever, because in the end, this is all fiction.

[ninjastormhawkkat]

The Last Superheroes AU: Maddrix The Malicious

20 years ago, Fair City, known back then by a different name that is locked up in the minds of those who lived their back then, was a different place than now. It was much larger, more vibrant, it was filled with the greatest heroes the world has ever known. Fair City was once the city of Heroes. Of course there were villains who caused mischief and chaos from time to time, but the heroes always saved the day and actually treated the villains with kindness and respect, even befriending them and hanging out outside of the mask. That all changed with a villain named Maddrix the Malicious. He despised heroes with his whole black heart. Maddrix was the most dangerous villain out there as he was equally strong and intelligent. Maddrix used his cunning to plan out his crimes and find ways of escape even before the pesky heroes showed up to stop him. That still didn't stop him from terrorizing the population just for laughs. There were always casualties with Maddrix's crimes. He even had a silent partner, a protege of sorts who he raised in his evil ways. Other villains were too terrified to work with him for how dark Maddrix's heart was. That did not bother him for Maddrix liked to work alone and get the job done himself more often than not. Maddrix also appeared to have unlimited powers. No one knew how he got them. There were rumors that ranged to either being born with them or getting them through some dark deal. No matter what the rumor was, people, hereos, and villains knew to be wary and cautious when he unleashed his fearful powers. Despite his appearance, Maddrix had the strength of 500 men that he could control with ease. He could summon black holes and voids with his hands to swallow all of his loot and transport it back to his hideout, or kidnap a person and toss them to the vastness of space. He appeared to bend gravity to his will and levitate from the earth with ease. Maddrix appeared to be unstoppable. One day, he decided to test this theory. Everyone knew his dislike and disgust with the heroes. There were villains who didn't like heroes either, but they did not do anything except vent out their dislike's in their battles. They knew to not mess with the balance of good and evil. But Maddrix didn't care about that, in his twisted mind, he was the master of the earth and those he didn't like, he can do away with them. That is what happened on that fateful day. In one whole day, Maddrix the Malicious slaughtered every hero on the earth, no one, young or old, human, animal, or humanoid, none were spared if they were on the paths of heroes. Maddrix did not go after their families because he did not know the heroes' secret identities. That was the only good to come out of this whole massacre, now remembered today by those who were there as The Great Tragedy, or The Day The Heroes Died. Everyone was horrified with what Maddrix had done, including the villains. Greatly upset at how the balance was demolished, Maddrix's silent partner gathered up the toughest villains he could find and together the silent partner betrayed Maddrix and, hindered his powers, and sent him off to the highest level of maximum security prison in the world. But by then it was too late. There were no heroes left in the world. Some villains tried to maintain the peace where they lived by taking over the jobs of heroes, but it wasn't perfect. There were still some villains, not as evil as Maddrix was, but corrupt enough that they were still practicing their old ways in trying to maintain the balance again, though they often ended up just being bullies to villains who were weaker. An establishment was soon set up, under the guise of a rehabilitation center for villains, as a way to help other villains develop limits in their crimes or at least maintain somewhat peaceful relations with civilians in their daily lives. Despite the attempts to return to normalcy, no one wanted to step up and call themselves a superhero ever again due to the trauma and destruction that Maddrix created in his wake. That is until two new super heroes came from the stars.

@drtwobrainsstuff

@melodythebunny

@liloskull343

[mortyfields]

When she said not that she didn’t feel the way the song described, but she never had, Morty was at first filled with glowing relief…and then the confusion crept back in. If she hadn’t felt that way, then how was this song about him? She quoted the beginning of the song, something heavy and apologetic in her gaze, and it finally clicked. This wasn’t a song about Bubbles’ feelings for Morty; it was about his feelings towards her. (At least, what she speculated were his feelings.) You should’ve told me that you were thinking about someone else. That must, he realized with a sharp stinging sensation, refer to Dewey. It hadn’t been a secret while they dated that Bubbles had had a crush on their other best friend, even before Morty asked her out. He could never quite quell the suspicion that this was the main reason she had wanted to keep their relationship private: that she wanted to leave herself open to the option of their mutual friend one day asking her out. Yet unless she and Dewey had also gone ahead and dated in secret at some point, they’d never ended up going out; Morty had wondered on more than one occasion since then whether he had jumped the gun in breaking up with Bubbles when she might well have gotten over Dewey in time and eventually come around to going public with their relationship, but it was counterproductive to dwell on what ifs and where would we be now when he’d spent the past six years trying to move on from his first love. You broke me first. Ah.

He couldn’t tell if it was it was gratifying or mortifying that Bubbles had written a song from his imagined point of view, lamenting being the one who had cared too much before his feelings and efforts were properly reciprocated—before she apparently realized what she wanted only when it was too late and he had already walked away. Morty had to at least be grateful that she had tried to see things from his side, that she hadn’t saddled him with all the blame of their heartache even if he had been the one to initiate the actual break-up. It seemed like she might even recognize that, for his part, he never would have left her if it hadn’t hurt him more to stay with the way things were, the untenable secrecy they’d balanced on for too long, the insecurity that therefore threaded their relationship…The only problem here was that he hadn’t recognized the song as his own perspective, because it wasn’t his perspective.

There were certainly aspects of the lyrics that he could and did relate to—the part that referenced her thinking about someone else while they were together, the line about her moving on ‘quicker than I could’ve ever’ which had to be about how soon she’d started dating Boomer after they broke up. It had really hurt more than anything that she never kept her going out with him a secret, when she and Morty had broken up because she’d seemingly rather lose what they had than tell their friends and family about them...For the sake of holding his heart together, and their friendship going forward, he had chalked that that up to the fact that Bubbles and Boomer just weren’t as good of friends as she and Morty were, so it mattered less if everyone else knew about them. Or maybe she had just learned better after their break-up. Either way, he took it in stride and did what he could with all those things he told himself to keep their friendship from becoming awkward or difficult to maintain with lingering bitterness and pain. She didn’t need to worry about his broken pieces.

But aside from those particular details that were accurate to their situation, the actual tone of the song, the main contention of the piece were not representative of Morty’s opinion of Bubbles. Not at all. The lines she recited as she lifted a hand to his cheek, the ones carrying obvious resentment over having to fix things for her—they were plain wrong. He had never run out of reasons to help her when she was in a bind, or comfort her when she was upset. He could never run out of reasons to care about her. He would never run out of reasons to love her. To think that she had written those lyrics truly believing that he would ever just be done with her, there was an ache in his chest with each beat of his heart. Her eyes were teary, her voice weak as she pressed through and continued to explain what the song meant; he let her finish even though he wanted to cut her off before she could cry, this conversation seeming almost too much to deal with right now. At the same time, he needed them to finish talking about this. There was something in the line: suddenly you’re asking for it back. If the “you” in the song referred to Bubbles rather than Morty, it wasn’t a speculative scenario in which he asked her to get back together, but the other way around. That wasn’t a direct confession, but it was tantamount to being one. It meant she had, at least at the time of writing, imagined telling him that she wanted him back. And the Morty in her imagination, who would reject her, was out of character. That needed correcting.

“While I’d hate to tell you that your…artistic expression is wrong,” he said, choosing his words carefully as his heart thundered in his ears, “I never felt like that. I don’t feel like that.” He leaned into her hand as she continued to caress his cheek, tilting his head as he stared meaningfully into her eyes for a long moment, then turned his face to press a kiss to the inside of her wrist. It was forward, but so was his hand on her lower back, holding her body close to his as they swayed on the dance floor. To his mind, they still weren't close enough. “I’ve always felt lucky to have you in my life, as a friend or…as something more.” Did she want something more again? Even after all this time? He had to know, and the only way was by assuring her that however she feared he would react to her confession, there was truly nothing he wanted more. If she wanted the same thing he did. “Bubbles, it doesn’t matter who broke who first. You know, you can still love with a broken heart.” As long as all the pieces were there. Bubbles was still holding onto some of his. “Besides, I always thought,” he began again, almost breathless with anticipation, “That if you broke something, you were supposed to put it back together again. It’s only right.”

As they both began to sway to the sound of the music, Bubbles took the moment to wistfully wonder how different things could’ve been if they had attended the ball together. If things would have been any different if they had gone as each other’s date. It wasn’t such a strange or most innovative concept for a pair of friends to attend an event like this with one another, and it wouldn’t have been the first time she had Morty as her date to one either. Back before they even dated, there were many times where she would ask if he could be her date or even outright make the assumption that they were both going together unless he said otherwise, meaning the blonde would have to look elsewhere in return. Morty wasn’t even the only close friend Bubbles has done that with as well— there have been other times in the past where she got Dewey to attend certain events with her as her date or even Millie (she didn’t have a preference, boy or girl, they’re both date worthy even if only as just friends!)! And even when they were dating, since they were doing so without the knowledge of their friends and family, many times whenever a dance or some party was happening that required having a date, they would pretend to go together but as ‘just friends.’ But this time was different for she couldn’t even have asked Morty if he wanted to attend with her even as just friends because she knew long before ever asking that he would shoot her down if she did. Because he had a girlfriend he could go with. A girlfriend he did attend with. And so, she came dateless instead (sorry Blossom and Buttercup) and could only take this moment as she got to dance with him to pretend that he was her date for the night— and she as his.

Besides, even if she had asked and he did say yes despite still being with Fawn, she wouldn’t want to attend the ball as just friends with Morty. Going as only friends with him means that she’ll have to keep pretending that’s all they are to one another, and the blonde didn’t want to keep pretending anymore. It was pretending that they were still just friends is what ruined things in the end for them, and yet, she couldn’t blame anyone else for that fact but herself. That’s right, for all her wants and desires of wishing that this night could’ve gone differently to the point where the two of them were not only here as each other’s dates, but also with them still being actively together as a couple. A romantic and very much in love couple at that— Bubbles would only be fooling herself if she truly hoped that such a thing can become a reality. Because not only is he already in a relationship with someone else, but said relationship still seems to be going very strong from her perspective, and even if it wasn’t, there’s no way that he would want to give Bubbles another chance when there were better choices than her. Other girls who wouldn’t hurt him the way she had. Who hadn’t already hurt him the way she had. Like Millie. She always thought Morty and Millie looked picture perfect together, and though the pair had been on-and-off throughout the years, there was no doubt within the blonde’s mind that one day the two would finally get their acts straighten and get together officially. And so if it’s not Fawn, then for sure it’ll be Millie. But not her. Morty wouldn’t want her like that anymore…..right?

And somehow, everything about this night in particular seemed different. He had been flirting with her, complimented her, and with the way he held her as they danced, she couldn’t help but second guess and actually hope? Said emerging hope was then shattered the second he brought up his first question. Of course he would want to question her about you broke me first. Bubbles had been the one to mention the song, aware that she could’ve referenced to any other one she had written if she didn’t want to deal with any of his questions or curiosities about it— of songs that weren’t as painful to write or much less sing as you broke me first had. But as she said, he could ask her about anything and she’ll tell him the honest truth, and yet as he questioned her if she still felt the way she described within that song, the blonde ruefully smiled up at him. Hearing him repeat some of the lyrics all by heart only made the weight forming within her chest even heavier. She wanted to be happy at the way he was able to memorize the song enough to recite it word for word as that was a sure sign of how many times he has listened to Bubbles work— but it was painful that Morty memorized this song in particular because for as much as he believed that she had written it in the perspective of how she felt over their breakup, the truth was the complete opposite of it. “No,” She began, shaking her head at him “I don’t feel that way. Never did.” The blonde honestly said. That answer would only bring more him more confusion, she imagined. Why would she have written and released that song if it was never about how she felt? Simple, because you broke me first was never about Bubbles in the first place. 

"Maybe you don't like talking too much about yourself, But you should've told me that you were thinkin' 'bout someone else.” Quoting the first two lines of that song, she stared into his eyes, remorse and regret apparent within them as she did so especially when she emphasized the words ‘someone else.’ There was a reason why Bubbles wanted their relationship to be a secret back then when Morty first asked her out. A very dumb and stupid reason that only proves she was the worst person ever for making Morty agree to dating her in secret in the first place, hence once again, why she needed to squish any hope of the two of them. Who cares if it wasn’t long after getting together for her to change her mind and realize what she actually wanted. Who she actually wanted. "I know you, you're like this, When shit don't go your way you needed me to fix it, And like me, I did…” As she repeated those words right back at him, she lifted a hand off of his shoulder, only to rest it against his cheek as she finished the verse “...But I ran out of every reason.” Couldn’t he see with just those verses alone how she wasn’t talking about herself. Morty wasn’t the one who had someone else in mind when they were together. He wouldn’t have asked her out in the first place if there was someone else he wanted to be with. And he most definitely wasn’t the selfish one between the two of them. Sure, he would come and ask Bubbles for her help, and she would gladly do so in any way she can, but she wasn’t the one constantly fixing things between them. The one who actually had to try. 

At the hurt in his voice, the blonde nearly started to cry, caressing his cheek as she refrained from doing so. She hated how she was resurfacing old wounds and feelings, but he needed to know. “Now suddenly you're asking for it back, Could you tell me, where'd you get the nerve?” Her own tone wavered this time as she said that. Be strong, Bubbles. “…This song was never about how I felt, Morty. I know it sounded like it did, and not going to lie, our break up did bring out all kinds of feelings. Negative ones. Painful ones. Many in which have been expressively written into a song.” There was a slight pause in her words as she took a deep breath. She had to tell him. “But you broke me first? More like, I broke you first.” Did he get it now? What she actually meant when she wrote that song. For how broken she was over the demise of their relationship, she also recognized that how she felt was nothing in comparison to how he must’ve felt when it happened. Before it happened. Because Bubbles broke him. “Because I did— didn’t I?”