#but in reality real actual people notice these same things and snark about them!

[arbitrarygreay]

One of the great pleasures of Motherland Fort Salem fanfic is that they give me "Bellweather Unit let-me-get-this-straight" sequences. The actual show teased us with a few in S1. However, in subsequent seasons, either they were too wrapped up in their own angst to react properly, or were cut for time, leaving a sense of them just rolling with everything in favor of more SRS BSNS. S3's favored mode of Bellweather Unit (tragically rare) non-angsty interaction was just them poking each other about whatever they were doing at that moment (and so weirdly disconnected from acknowledging each others' character development), rather than reacting to the things they had gotten up to.

[onmyyan]

Hi its me again. I love your writing and the fact that there isn't as much abuse like there is in others. It reminds me of old yandere stories were it was genuine lovesickness. Anyway, how do you think jjba yanderes would react to a darling that is taller and more muscular than them by quite a bit. You can do whoever you like I don't mind.

A/N: Omg ily🥺 it means a lot you said all that because I really love this genre it’s my comfort trope anyway thank you for the request n I hope ya like it!! Kira should be a trigger warning in an of itself but dw he’s just weird, not mean. Mentions of his past ‘girlfriends’, a curse word or two, lil suggestive in someplace’s Mista murks a few people, tw//gun violence

Characters: Pt2 Joseph, Josuke, Kira, Mista

Joseph was used to looking down on people, standing at a proud 6’5” he was literally and figuratively knocked on his ass when he’d first laid eyes on you, his immediate thought was you were a forgotten pillarman coming from nowhere to get revenge for your masters only to quickly realize you were just a stallion. You were strong enough to put him on his back after one too many cheeky comments. Unafraid to speak your mind and keep him in check, You would stare down at him with that mind melting smirk, all too aware of his frustrations, you assumed he was just being a man, ashamed to be outclassed by someone other than himself, oh honey how wrong you were. You enjoyed teasing the behemoth of a man as no one else really could, at least not as well as you did, throughout your little jabs and snark he always had a retort, a response on the tip of his tongue, eager to do this dance of yours until one of you broke, to you he was a way too cocky dangerously self assured pretty boy who was entertainingly easy to rile up, but to Joseph, you were his everything. Someone he could proudly take home to Granny Erina once he’d finally tamed you. He had a plan, a three step plan to steal your heart just as you’d done his, and this little game of who could annoy the other the most was just step 1. “It’s been fun JoJo but you’re gonna have to find someone else to bother.” You’d jokingly said one day out of the blue, an odd friendship had formed through the month you’d been in town and it felt wrong to leave without notice, an act of kindness you’d learn to regret. “Is this one of your famous jokes (Y/n)? Not so funny to play with a mans heart like that I nearly believed you.” He finished with a scoff, his signature smirk not reaching his eyes. “It’s true Joseph, my flight leaves tomorrow, I didn’t wanna leave without saying goodbye, because as much as we fuck around you’re pretty fun to hang out with.” Your sincerity almost made him feel bad about rushing the next few steps of his plan, he’d have to cram months of planning into a night but he’d accomplished more with less time on his side. He huffed, his grin stretched wide across his handsome features. “Then we outta make tonight count eh?” A thick arm was tossed around your neck, you had to bend awkwardly for this to be possible much to your amusement. “Okay you weirdo, whatever you say.” You let him lead you around town with a grin, unaware you’d be missing that plane, and any other one you tried to take without him.

Josuke watched you eat with the dopiest grin on his face, he’d spent an extra hour in the mirror this morning in preparation for your first official date! Well you didn’t exactly know it it was a date and Okayasu was eating rather messily beside you two but still! You’d actually agreed to come to Toni’s with him! You’d been an enigma since you transferred to the bizarre town, choosing to keep to yourself, and despite the intimidating height and mass you possessed, he saw through your act in seconds. There was a huge softie under all that muscle, he’d watched you enough to know this as a fact, you were a gem and he was intent on showing you his appreciation and adoration for the rest of his days, a vow he’d silently taken the day you’d stolen his heart, the moment was brief in reality but it lasted forever in his mind, you smiled at him in passing, he could feel time slow down, everyone around you faded in the background, a backdrop to the beginning of your story. He could imagine telling your kids how you’d met, something about the way you’d stare down at him, eyes sharp and attentive, like you truly listened when people spoke, your laugh was loud when it was real and every time he heard it he felt 10 years added to his lifespan. At the same time that icky feeling at another person making you laugh was conflicting, he’d never been in love before but he suddenly understood why his mom had never given up on his dad, love was weird but he wouldn’t give it up for anything. You’d accidentally snapped your chopsticks laughing too hard at a joke he’d tossed out, your face scrunched in embarrassment before chuckling at yourself and switching to a fork, his stand came out on its own, pocketing the shards to fix later, a new item for his ever growing collection, what a cute little memento from your first date! His thoughts swirled happily with the stories you’d be telling your kids. Thankfully neither of you noticed his little pickpocket moment, dangerous plans forming as he stared at you with those misleadingly soft puppy dog eyes.

Kira could die in this moment, happily I might add, as your firm but soft hand was wrapped oh so deliciously around his throat threatening to crush it with ease at the slightest movement. He’d been watching you for a while now, the longest he’d ever spent on someone he didn’t plan to kill, it become sort of hobby he’d picked up recently, the morally upsetting activity bringing peace to his day to day, usually he used his stand to carefully observe your routine, eager to learn all he could about his future spouses likes and desires, but he was getting greedy. Of course he could always introduce himself but he resisted, knowing there was a time and place to get exactly what he wanted. He liked to think he knew everything about you by now, your favorite color, how you liked your coffee, your love for cats, but he didn’t anticipate this. You were much more observant than he’d given you credit for, while you couldn’t see his stand you could sense yourself being watched, and seeing the large blonde lurking indiscriminately in the crowds throughout the day was enough to set you off. So you trailed off into the less crowded parts of town quickly entering an alleyway, he followed in pure confusion only to be roughly slammed into the wall, his stand came out on reflex but simply stared at his attacker, it seemed almost confused as what to do. “Why the hell are you following me pretty boy?” His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feel of your fingers tightening, god he’d never felt this rush of exhilaration, none of his past ‘girlfriends’ could pull such an illicit reaction from him with a simple touch. When he didn’t answer you simply scoffed and tossed him aside like it was nothing. You left with a threat to stay out of your sight, yet all he could do was smile, the faint imprint of your fingers burned in his skin deliciously, how lucky could one man get?

Mista observed you with hungry eyes. His stare was unapologetically locked on your form. He made no intention to hide his attraction for you. The day you’d joined Buccarati’s crew was the day his world flipped. He assumed his new teammate would be no one to fuck with based on what Bruno told him about your stand, but when you walked in? Needing to bend down slightly just to enter the doorway had him sweating in his seat. He didn’t know what to say as he watched you happily interact with his fellow teammates, immediately you blended with the group, but all that was running through his mind were all the fun things you could do with those muscles. He usually stayed silent around you, not out of dislike as one would assume from his piercing gaze, but fear of accidentally voicing one of those nasty thoughts kept him quiet. You didn’t seem to mind though, always including him in the conversation, you even understood his very valid fear of that dreaded number! How could god plop such a perfect person in his lap and expect him to not do anything about it? Alas, Bruno had specifically told them not to make you uncomfortable with any flirting so he bit his tongue. Your aura was calming, a contrast to your powerful stand, speaking of, he couldn’t get his under control. Whenever they could Sex Pistols was out and all over you. They climbed and clamored for your attention, thankfully you didn’t seem to mind, always entertained their antics when you could, even giving each one a small peck when they wouldn’t let you leave for a mission without Mista, to say he was done for was an understatement, it took one mission going foul for his resistance to snap. His stand moved faster than it ever had, piercing the skulls of the idiots who brought you pain. He left the last one slowly bleeding out kneeling down to wipe the matted hair from your forehead, “You okay baby? Don’t worry honey I’ll make the bastard hurt.” He spoke not breaking eye contact, his hand pointed behind him, grip steady as he unloaded in the poor fool who thought it was a good idea to make you bleed, the wound was small, not even deep enough to trouble Giorno but that didn’t matter to Guido, any slight against you was disrespecting the future parent of his children, and what kind of man would he be if he didn’t defend your honor?

[sheliesshattered]

This Isn’t A Ghost Story - Chapter 1

Whouffaldi non-canon AU. 8 chapters, will be about 32,000 words when complete. Rated Mature for heavier themes in later chapters, please contact me privately if you’re worried about triggering topics. Clara Oswald/Twelfth Doctor. Mystery, pining and angst with a happy ending. Available on AO3 under the same username and title. Updates every Friday.

This Isn’t A Ghost Story

Chapter 1: The House

14 November 2014, London

There was a certain amount of irony, Clara reflected, that her first reaction was I’m going to kill him.

Her ‘special friend’ had just cost her the sale of her late grandmother’s house. Again. This had to be roughly the twelfth adorable family or nice couple that had stepped into her ancestral family home only to turn tail and run before they’d even had a chance to hear about the antique hardwood floors or the fully restored kitchen. At this point, he wasn’t even being subtle about it anymore.

The longer the house sat on the market, the fewer calls she was getting to schedule walk-throughs of the property. She was beginning to worry that word of the house’s strangeness was getting around the local real estate community. If things kept up at this rate, she was going to end up permanently saddled with an inheritance whose tax burden she could barely afford, in the form of a one hundred and thirty year old, gorgeous, sprawling, haunted house.

Clara used her key to let herself in through the ornate front door, grumbling under her breath. As soon as she closed the door behind her, the cabinets in the kitchen began to rattle ominously.

“Oh, shut up,” she snapped, dropping her purse and keys on the small table in the foyer. “It’s just me.”

The door to one of the bedrooms upstairs slammed shut.

She groaned and buried her face in her hands and counted to ten before looking up again. “Listen, I get that you’re cross with me for bringing people by, but I am beyond livid with you, so let’s skip the part where I yell and you throw things and just agree to be angry with each other in silence, okay?”

The house went quiet in a manner entirely too creepy for her liking. If not for the undercurrent of petulant passive-aggressiveness, she might have actually been scared.

Not that Clara had ever really been scared of the ghost that lived in her Gran’s house. He had never once made her feel unsafe, not since she’d first spoken to him as a small child. But the sudden silence was still unnerving. 

“Well, good,” she said into the preternatural stillness, more to prove to herself that she wasn’t scared than anything else. “It’s nice to actually be able to hear myself think, for a change.”

The top step of the staircase creaked once, as if to make a point.

“Still shut up,” she grumbled.

She went about the short list of tasks she’d come to see to, putting away the food she’d set out for the potential home buyers, watering the plants, closing the curtains, and flicking on a few lamps to make the house look lived-in. Of course, she didn’t envy anyone who tried to break into the house while it sat apparently empty. At some level, a poltergeist was better home protection than a dog could ever be. 

Her chores complete, Clara returned to the foyer to find her purse where she’d left it, but her keys conspicuously missing. She sighed, hands on her hips, and turned towards the cold spot she could feel forming near the foot of the stairs. He was nothing but a faint wispy outline in the direct light of the setting sun filtering through the stained glass window over the front door, but even that outline was familiar enough that Clara was able to find his eyes and fix him with a displeased glare.

“Where are my keys?” she demanded. She still hadn’t forgiven him for his behaviour earlier, and she was in no mood to play find-the-lost-trinket tonight.

“I didn’t want you to leave before I could apologise,” the ghost said, not quite meeting her gaze. His voice raised gooseflesh along her arms, as usual, but she much preferred the low rumble of his Scottish brogue to the slamming of doors and rattling of cupboards. Not that she would ever openly admit that to him.

“So apologise and tell me where you’ve hidden my keys!”

“Clara,” he said, and she clenched her teeth against the shivery reaction she always had to the way he said her name, like it had been invented just so he could say it. There were days when she lived for that rush — and many, many lonely nights, in her love-struck teenaged years — but today was absolutely not one of them.

“...Was there more to that sentence?” she asked when he didn’t go on. “Saying my name does not constitute an apology.”

He glanced up at her, looking increasingly solid as the sunlight waned. “I’m sorry I upset you. That wasn’t my intention.”

“No, your intention was to make certain I can’t sell this house, and don’t bother to deny it.”

He chewed his incorporeal lip for a moment, then shrugged. “I won’t deny it. I don’t want you to sell the house. But I’m still sorry I upset you.”

Clara sighed. “I have to sell it. You know this. And someday, someone too brave or too stupid to fall for all your clattering will decide to buy this place, and that’ll be that.”

“Don’t say that,” he pleaded, his eyes glinting blue in the gathering dusk.

“It’s the reality of the situation, so you’d best start making peace with it,” she said evenly. Another irony not lost on her: arguing the state of reality with a man dead nearly a century. “Now, where are my keys?”

Her ghost hesitated. “You don’t have to leave,” he said. “You could stay?”

“I never stay the night in this house. That was your advice to me, more than twenty years ago. No sense in breaking with tradition.”

“I think maybe I was being overly paranoid at the time.”

“And I think maybe you’re acting like a lonely old man now,” Clara snarked back.

“Alone in a house that you of all people are dead-set on evicting me from? I can’t imagine why I’d be lonely!” 

“It’s not like you’re stuck here! You’re not tied to the house, you can go anywhere you want!”

“But it’s my house!”

“Keys, now!” she snapped. “Traffic is already going to be horrendous—”

“All the more reason to stay,” he said petulantly.

“But,” she went on forcefully, speaking over him, “tomorrow’s Saturday, so I have the day off work. If you tell me where my keys are, I’ll come back first thing in the morning. I still need to finish going through all those old boxes in the attic. We can spend the day working on that together, okay?”

“You’re going to drive all the way home only to turn around and come back in the morning? Why not just—”

“Or I could spend the day doing something fun with people my own age, very far away from here,” she bluffed. “Your choice.”

“Oh, fine,” he said, shoulders sagging. “Your keys are hidden in the parlour, I’ll show you where.”

“Thank you,” she said mildly, and followed him into the next room.

--

As promised, Clara arrived back at her grandmother’s house early the next morning, take-away coffee cup in hand. There had been a moment, whilst she stood in the queue to order, when she’d found herself thinking she ought to get two coffees, bring her ghost a peace offering to smooth over their row from the night before. Thankfully she’d realised how ridiculous that sounded before it was her turn to order, but she still felt strangely off balance as she unlocked the front door and let herself in, like she had forgotten something important.

“Hey,” she called to the empty house, as soon as she closed the door behind her. “It’s just me, no need to go rattling the hinges on my account.”

Her ghost appeared in a shadowy corner of the foyer, smiling at her shyly. “Good morning, my Clara,” he said. “You look lovely today. Have you had a wash?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to ignore the somersaulting of her heart at the way he said her name. My Clara. “Why are you being nice?”

“Because it works on you,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “And because I really am sorry about yesterday,” he added.

“Well, apology accepted,” Clara said. “And I’m sorry I yelled at you. The process of selling this place has been entirely too stressful, and I’m really starting to worry it won’t happen before the property taxes are due,” she sighed.

He ran a semi-transparent hand through the short curls at the back of his head, the ring he wore on his left hand briefly catching the light. “Yeah, about that...”

She winced. “What did you do?”

“The post came early today,” he said, voice even more apologetic than before. “I didn’t open it, but one of the envelopes has a rather official looking return address. I put it on the dining room table for you.”

She left her keys and purse on the table by the door and trudged off to the dining room, unable to contain her groan when she saw the envelope in question. Opening it, she found that he was right: property taxes were due in six weeks, the total even higher than she had anticipated. It was more than she made in a month at her teaching job. Even with the small amount she had stashed away in savings, she would hardly be able to pay it and the rent on her flat, and still expect to feed herself.

“What about the rest of your inheritance?” he asked, sounding genuinely worried.

“I put it all into fixing up this place to sell,” she said.

“Which I’ve made impossible,” he murmured.

Clara covered her face with her hands, trying not to cry and hoping he wouldn’t notice. Yes, he was the reason she hadn’t been able to sell the house to any of the dozen or so buyers who had shown initial interest. But he was also the only one in her life who even knew or cared what she was going through.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she told him honestly, still hiding behind her hands. “If I don’t pay it, they’ll just add late fees on top of that already ridiculously large sum. If I can’t sell the house soon...”

She felt a cold touch drift across the back of her hands, felt her hair stir in a nonexistent breeze, and wished, not for the first time in her life, that her ‘special friend’ was the sort of friend who could offer a hug when she so desperately needed one.

“I don’t suppose there’s a secret stash of diamonds in the attic?” she asked him, only half joking. “Or a map to buried treasure?”

“You are descended from a line of exceptionally adventuresome women,” he replied, voice sounding distant and thoughtful. “I haven’t been up to the attic in years. I don’t know what all is in there, but anything is possible.”

Clara dropped her hands from her face and squared her shoulders, not looking at her ghost until she was certain she wouldn’t spontaneously burst into tears. “Well, let’s hope there’s something up there that will help.”

--

The attic had never been Clara’s favourite place in her Gran’s house, cramped and dusty and full of ancient boxes that gave off a far creepier vibe than the literal ghost had ever managed to do. But on the plus side, it was also windowless, dim enough that he was able to appear to her in a fairly solid state and even move lightweight objects as though he were a real person existing in the real world.

She had removed the larger pieces from the attic weeks ago, furniture and blanket chests and trunks of old clothing, all sorted through and donated to charity or brought back to her flat, or else restored to the best of Clara’s ability and set out to decorate the house in a manner befitting its age. All that remained were boxes of keepsakes, photographs and journals and old letters, small family things that required far more of her attention to sort through. 

Despite the lingering threat of the taxes due, it was a pleasant morning, sitting together amidst the papers and dust, slowly uncovering the history of her family, layer on layer, like an archaeologist digging through levels of sediment. Her Gran had spent her entire life in this house, from the time she was a baby, used it as a homebase during her adventurous youth, married and raised her own daughter in it, and continued to live in it after her husband died. The boxes that littered the attic bore witness to all those many decades.

“Oh my god, these photos of Mum,” Clara said, turning the yellowed album towards her ghost so he could see them, in all their early 1970s glory. “She must have been, what, about fifteen in these?”

“Ellie’s first formal school dance,” he confirmed, leaning in to examine the photos. “With that older boy, I forget his name. Your grandfather did not approve.”

Clara snorted. “Can’t say I blame him. Look at those sideburns. I’m not sure I would have let her go out with him at all.”

“They had a huge row about it, if I remember correctly. In the end, your grandmother took your mother’s side, and she was allowed to go.”

“Why didn’t you ever appear to any of them?” she asked, flipping through the pages and pausing to linger on what looked to be polaroids of a rugby game. “You were here all that time, but you never talked to anyone until I came along?”

He shrugged. “You were the only one that was you.”

“Thanks. That clears it right up.”

“It’s the only answer I’ve got,” he objected.

“I scared the daylights out of Mum and Gran when I told them about you, I was probably all of six years old at the time.”

“Five, I think,” he said quietly.

“God, five. I might have a heart attack if my five year old started talking very confidently about her special friend the ghost that lives at Gran’s house.”

“I seem to remember advising you against telling them.” 

“And in all the time you’ve known me, when have I ever taken your advice?” she asked archly.

“Hmm. There was that one time you actually listened to me, about that chap you were dating, what’s-his-name.”

Clara winced, remembering it all too well. “I thought we agreed never to speak of him again.”

“Gladly,” her ghost replied emphatically.

She shook her head, more than happy to dismiss the subject. “As a child it didn’t make sense to me not to tell Mum and Gran about you. You live in Gran’s house, the house where Mum grew up, I just assumed they already knew about you. I mean, why wouldn’t they?”

“I’m not sure I could have talked to them, even if I’d wanted to. And I never did want to.”

Clara turned her gaze to him, studying his face in the dimness. Without direct sunlight, he looked almost human, almost alive, the blue of his eyes and the salt and pepper of his hair appearing so very real, so very close at hand. He still seemed as ageless to her now as he had when she was a child. Ageless and ancient, wise and funny, solemn and sardonic. She thought perhaps she knew his face better than any other, living or dead.

“But why didn’t you ever want to talk to them?” she pressed.

“Why do you need a key to enter the house?” he asked in response.

She felt her eyebrows come together in consternation. “Because the door is locked.”

“But why that key?”

“Because... that’s the key that fits. That’s the key that goes with that lock.”

He shrugged, most of his attention on the page of the journal he’d been perusing. “You are the key that fits. I can’t give you a better answer than that.”

--

Chapter 2: The Box

[galactichoneybee92]

Some Improbable Season 5 Headcanons

Fair warning: These things aren’t going to happen. But while I’m obsessing, I sometimes imagine possible scenarios that would be interesting to watch play out. Perhaps a more industrious person would write these into fanfiction however, I am not that person. And so you get a half-assed  Tumblr post about my imaginings. Please enjoy:

1. What happened to the sword? I don’t remember, I just know that it broke and now Adora is unable to become She-Ra (Until she inevitably learns how to do so without the sword as Madame Razz was clearly insinuating was possible to Mara) But I like to imagine that she lef the pieces of the broken sword where they lay. I also like to imagine  a scenario in which Hoard Prime has his clone minions doing recon on the new planet and they find the pieces of the sword. Later, they bring them back to the ship. 

Skip to a scene where Catra and Glimmer are present, perhaps being questioned about someone his troops have heard about called She-Ra, a defender of this planet. He wonders aloud if this She-Ra will be someone he will have to contend with, only to have one of his troops present the broken pieces of the sword. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about anything like that, Sir. I have it on good authority that there is no more She-Ra” (Or something like that Idk how they talk) He smiles, meanwhile Catra and Glimmer poorly try to conceal their reactions. They have both been operating under the assumption (hope) that since the planet survived, that Adora did too. Not knowing that Adora shattered the sword herself, tey are now faced with the horrifying realization that perhaps Adora didn’t make it out of this and that for both of them, their last interaction was horrible. 

I like the miguided assumption that Adora has died, mostly because I want to torture the two of them a little for being butts, but also because often people don’t appreciate what they have until they lose it. Even having “lost” Adora like Catra did, she still saw her regularly. They still interacted, even if those interactions were fighting or exchanging snarky banter. Even if someone hates you (Which Adora clearly doesn’t, Catra, you’re just being self destructive)  that hatred is still a form of ackowledgement- It’s not the same as losing someone entirely. I want to see the two of them (But mostly Catra because she’s my favorite little disaster) forced to face with the reality of Adora’s “death” Especially since in Catra’s case it’s sort of like getting what you asked for and realizing that it wasn’t what you wanted at all. 

I want Glimmer specifically to witness Catra’s reaction to this news as a way of gaining a deeper understanding of the relationship between the two of them. I feel like Glimmer has never viewed Catra as very nuanced, instead just grouping her into a box, labeling it “villain” and calling it a day. Realistically she’s never had any reason to consider any of the layers of Catra’s character but I kind of find it odd considering that Adora used to be best friends with Catra. Has Glimmer really never wondered why? Never thought that somewhere under all the snark and barbs there must be a reason why Adora loved her  was her friend in the first place? 

Lastly, I’m a sucker for a dramatic entrance, and if they think that Adora is dead, they’d never expect her to show up, which leads to self indulgent imaging number two...

2. Sneaky spy Adora. I feel like I am perhaps giving Adora and Bow too much credit here because espionage has never really been their strong suit, but imagine for me if you will a scenario in which they decide to be subtle. The two of them sneak onto Hoard Prime’s ship and do some spy work, trying to decide on the best course of action to take him out and get Glimmer home. This would be a great opportunity to give Adora a much needed costume change and while realistically I know that the whole vibrant 80′s theme isn’t going to allow it, I would love to see her in black. Also something backless, but that comes into play later in part three. This all ties together. I’ve had a lot of time to plan this. 

So they sneak in and while like, peering out from an air vent or something (Idk the make up of the ship ) she is shocked to see that Catra is there too and that while she and Glimmer still snap at eachother and exchange dirty looks and stuff, they are reluctantly working together. I imagine their situation is sort of like, they come out and do various activities on the ship, whatever Hoard Prime deems them useful for, but they are locked in a cell overnight. Adora observes both situations while trying to get the layout of the ship and formulate a game plan.

I’m not going to say that Bow having actual real live pointy arrows made for long distance stabbing would be an advantage instead of his like, novelty prank arrows buuuuuut..... I know that this is a kid’s show but there are other cartoons that allow characters to get stabbed and stuff like, it could happen. It won’t buuuut anyway....

While running around the ship (in a dramatic hooded cloak that covers her face because of course, what do you take me for) and like, sabotaging things and preparing to dismantle this whole operation, Adora runs into perhaps both Catra and Glimmer but at least Catra (Because sorry Glimmer, I do actually like you but like, I’m playing favorites hardcore here) Maybe she helps with something they’re trying to do and gets caught. They don’t realize it’s her but now this mysterious hooded figure is on their radar. And then when the actual attack happens Adora gets her big reveal and it’s super dramatic and they realize that not only is Adora alive, she was the one they met earlier and just. I’m trash for that kind of trope. Really I am. This then leads into the big battle which also leads into point number three...

3. This point is less concrete, but do you remember Adora’s backless number? Perhaps a black halter top of some kind paired with black pants? Yeah? This is why it’s important. When Adora and Bow finally make their move, Bow goes to rescuse the girls while Adora levels her attack on Hoard Prime. Catra and Glimmer are in their cell and hear alarms start going off. They startle, frustrated at being trapped and unable to know what’s happening outside.

 Then Bow shows up in his own dramatic black hooded cloak (He’s very happy to shed it and let his middrift free once more. It’s felt very unnatural) they’re shocked to see him. But like, it works because Catra probably knew that someone would come for Glimmer but it makes since that it would be Bow since Adora is “dead.” Maybe in a previous conversation (During the time in which the two hesitantly began bonding, because you can’t tell me that’s not where this is going) Glimmer expressed doubt that anyone would come for her after she did such a terrible job being queen. Anyway with Bow here, he and Glimmer hug and they make their escape, the three of them, during which someone questions Bow on what’s happening and he just says that Hoard Prime is being distracted.

Why is the rescue mission just Bow and Adora? Idk. Didn’t think that far ahead. Just go with it. Maybe the other princesses are waiting for their cue to join in later. Maybe it’s because there isnt any water or plants in space and they’re kinda useless. Maybe Entrapta will join in (She has to actually, so she can reunite with Hordak and then he has his whole amnesia thing but like, that’s not part of this. That is a seperate post) Anyway the important thing is that they aren’t here at this point. 

So, Catra and Glimmer are confused about who is distracting Hoard Prime and then, there we go. The dramatic entrance. They look and see Adora in her new outfit, mid-battle with Hoard Prime. And like. It’s a hard battle and she isn’t really making any progress on her own, but she’s fighting really hard and well. I feel like people often forget that Adora was top of her class back in the Hoard like, even if she isn’t She-Ra she’s got to be pretty bad ass and whether the show wants to explore this or not, I will.  I have a theory for this that I will expand on in just a bit. 

So they go to join her only to realize that theres like an invisible barrier preventing them from joining. Maybe it’s a security measure made to protect him from attack that she used to trap her in there with him, while simultaneously keeping his minions out. Maybe it’s just because I want Catra and Glimmer to be forced to watch this battle for a bit while Bow tries to disable the force field but it’s mostly because I’m shipping trash and I want Catra to observe two things.

The first is that Adora looks really cool in this new outfit. Also Adora’s hair is down because I like it that way. She has a new sword, one that’s just a sword and not a She-Ra sword. This one is just for wrecking shit. The second is that Adora is way better at fighting than Catra expected and when Catra expresses this sentiment Glimmer just looks at her like she’s fucking dumb and says something along the line of “I kind of assumed you were the brains of the Hoard, but you’re dumber than I thought if you think that Adora was ever ACTUALLY trying to hurt you.” Followed by, “It’s a shame you didn’t return the sentiment.” And then you get this moment of Catra just watching Adora being really kick ass, coming to terms with the fact that Adora never fought ALL OUT against Catra the way she is against Hoard Prime, like, Adora never tried to murder Catra. And then the last part of Glimmer’s statement sinks in and then Catra notices the claw marks scarred down Adora’s shoulderblades. The ones that she put there, because even if Adora never really tried to hurt Catra, Catra sure as hell never held back on her. And then Catra feels like shit because while I absolutely love her to pieces, she’s been kind of horrible and I want her to suffer a little more before her redemption. 

See why the backless top was necessary? Yep. Good. 

Anyway, predictably Bow lowers the barrier and they join the fight. Maybe Adora takes a bad hit and then Catra catches her or soemthing. The two look at eachother, both realizing that it’s been too long since they fought on the same side, but also silently acknowledging how good it feels. This is meant to foreshadow Catra eventually joining the good side permanantly. They all fight Hoard Prime and maybe the other princesses join in, but since this isn’t the final episode  (Maybe like episode 4 or so?) they don’t defeat him. But they DO do some damage and excape back to Etheria. 

5. This one fits in somewhere before the last point but idk where exactly. Honestly it’s not even important where this snippet goes but at some point Hoard Prime reads Catra’s mind. I don’t know if cannonically he can only read his clone’s minds, but clearly I’m not writing for the show okay, this is my pointless headcanon. I don’t even know the context but Glimmer is there too and Hoard Prime, maybe having grown suspicious of Catra’s loyalty, reads her mind and just drags her. He kind of taunts her for beign sad that her “mother never loved you” to which she snaps like “Shadow Weaver is NOT my mother.” And he just tuts and is like “But it feels like she is.”  And then they get to Adora  and Catra says something about hating her and he calls her out on it like, “Hm no, that’s not quite right is it? No, you love her quite a bit” And then he does that villain thing where they’re kind of talking to themself while filing through your thoughts and it’s like “She would be like your sister after all but oh, whats this? Oh, so not like a sister after all.” And he like, puts her on blast for being in love with Adora. And she denies it and he replies with “A shame you don’t actually mean half the things you say.”

Meanwhile Glimmer is there witnissing it because I don’t know if you can tell yet but like, I really want her to have a better understanding of Catra. I want Catra to understand Glimmer too, but I feel like that’s possible without physically dragging the truth from her like.... she’s not in a great place mentally but no one is worse than Catra, lets be real.

That’s absolutely the most self indulgent part of this entire mile-long post and I don’t even know what you’re doing still reading this. But if you were wondering what I imagine going down, it’s this.

All my imaginings end in Catradora, because I am shipping trash.

So like, if anyone wants to write this out just tag me so I can see it, because I’d love to read it. But if not? Totally understandable. I’m more suprised you read it all because it is 100% a  self-indulgent conglomoration of all my favorite tropes, shoved together whether they make sense or not. 

[brooklynislandgirl]

[Beth and Cop] ❤♡❥ღ💕💘💝💓💌💟💙💚💜💛

This || Not Accepting

❤: who is more affectionate in public? in private? She slides a foot out of her heel and runs the tips of toes along the length of his leg. A feat that he can’t begin to fathom how she manages without ever having moved in her chair. Especially when she grazes his ~ and instantly he reaches down to adjust the napkin in his lap but what he’s actually doing is stopping her from doing that a second time.

He’s squirrelled away and saved to take her to this place, something he knows that she might take for granted but that twists his gut. He never knows which fork to use and the bill at the end of dinner will be twice his electric for the month. And there she is, making eyes at him that by looks alone could set the place on fire. He’s a hundred percent certain that Elizabeth Riley is evil. Later, they take a walk through the park. His arm slips around her waist as if it belongs there. Once they get to the fountain, he takes a perch on the dry edge of it and pulls her close. Sitting as he does almost makes them the same height, makes it easy for him to reach up and run fingers through her hair as he pulls her close for a chaste kiss on the lips. He doesn’t remember the last time he’d been able to do that, or when the return is so much sweeter, more tender than he expects. It’s going to be a nightmare, remembering to hate her at work tomorrow. ♡: who is the bigger romantic openly? secretly?

They don’t do romantic in public. Sure, there’s rumours based strictly on the amount of snark that passes through them when they have to process a crime-scene together. The way he slams her down on the padded mat in the precinct gym. The way they compete on the gun-range. There’s a million little signs the other detectives can point out but none of it is more than circumstantial.

They have to be this way for their careers, and to keep Luka’s secret. The secret that cuddles between them on movie night. The secret that Beth reads to before bed, the one he puts through dance classes and goes to PTA meetings ~sometimes~ and who wants a dog one week, a horse the next, a dragon the one after that.

And once this particular secret is asleep in her bed, that’s when things change. When Luka takes hold of her foot and rubs the tension out of her sole. When she brings him a beer and curls up at his side. Separate in their own heads, but companionably comfortable together. He stocks her plant-based coffee creamer, or the way her hands seem to always know where in his neck the tension sits. Going to Church when he’d rather be anywhere else, and the way she lets him watch football ~REAL Footy, Be’d~ even if she doesn’t really know the rules.  And Beth is okay with that. Sometimes, being able to just be comfortable with another person is more important than heated arguments and sex in weird places.

❥: who is more likely to plan something big for valentine's day?

Luka was out the door before he’d double-checked the paper calendar attached to the front of the fridge by toe-shoe magnates. Some parents would call that a violation but what they didn’t know is that he scoured five bakeries in two different Burroughs just to make sure he had twenty seven gluten and sugar free red, pink and white cupcakes for the class party. That he’d actually contacted the school nurse to double-check any possible allergen alerts. That he’d helped Maria make up twenty- six valentines cards ~including one for the teacher~ and made little pink tulle candy-heart and Dove chocolates attached to the envelopes. Didn’t even curse when he burned himself no less than three times with hot glue.

So of course Beth makes the delivery on time for the class party. She also stops at one store on the way over to his place to pick up a bottle of wine for dinner.

She doesn’t expect the lights to be out when she gets there. Or the door to be unlocked. Or for Maria to be spending the night with her uncles.

There’s been a massacre of roses, petals strewn from the front door to the bedroom and the apartment is lit up by candles enough to warrant a violation from those two brothers of his. There’s Chopin cello sonatas on the stereo. Almost everything needed for a romantic evening except maybe the most important part.

She finds Luka in the bedroom, after leaving the wine and her coat on the kitchen counter. Hours later, he gets up, goes to get them some water after teasing her about the importance of keeping hydrated. He comes back with a tray and on it, there’s a single unmolested rose in a bud vase. There’s two glasses of wine, and a plate he’s covered with a plastic mixing bowl because he doesn’t have a proper domed cover. She holds the sheet to her chest and eyes him suspiciously. “Wha’s dat?” “Open i’n see,” he says cryptically. She does and for a split second there’s alarm bells ringing in her ear. Her empty hand rises up to take hold of the crucifix around her neck and she slashes a troubled gaze at him. She doesn’t want to open the box. She isn’t ready for all this to be over. He kneels by the bedside. Takes the box in his hands. She cannot for the life of her recall what exactly it is that he says, can’t hear him over the throbbing pulse pounding in her ears and the vaguely sick feeling twisting her guts into knots. But eventually he opens the box, and inside, glimmering in the soft light is a thing of beauty. High-polished and brand new. She’s pretty sure this isn’t how you’re supposed to give someone the key to your place, but she lets out a sigh she hasn’t realised she’d been holding, and simply nods.

ღ: who is more likely to initiate hand-holding in public?

“...Car 556... 10-33 Zebra. Repeat, 10-33-Zebra.”

“Dispatch 10-4. All available units respond to 10-33 PBMS.”

There’s a moment when the world comes to crashing stillness. When it doesn’t matter that you’re stuck in traffic after a long day in the office. When you know the car number like the back of your hand and the message relayed is that an officer in plain clothes requires emergency assistance. When it doesn’t matter that you work in a completely different Burroughs and that you’re technically not supposed to even have your radio on. You do what you have to, and are grateful your car is kitted out with lights on the grill and you’re allowed to run silent.

And she doesn’t know how grateful she’ll be later. After arriving on scene, the suspect is already under arrest and being sent to central booking. That the officer in question isn’t Luka, but that his car had been loaned out to a different unite. It’s terrible that he’d been shot in the course of his duty, but it’s only a winging. He’ll have a scar but will make a full recovery. She doesn’t even really catch his name. Instead, she’s too glad to be standing behind the barricade with Luka who other than troubled by the whole incident, is perfectly fine. There’s enough people surrounding them, civilian and other cops alike that she doesn’t think anyone really notices when she reaches down and slips her fingers through his. Squeezes the life out of them. 

💕: who is more likely to make huge declarations of love in front of other people?

“Can ya b’lieve dis?”  “Wha’s d’at, luv?” “Six hundred cable channels, an’ I swear all dat’s on is reruns of Game ‘a T’rones, an’ reality tv. Bachelah, Bachelah in Paradise, Bachlahrette, Marry in Paradise, some kine momona weddin’, blah-blah-blah.”

He arches a brow and she takes a breath. The next fifteen minutes is a tirade about every aspect of human life having to be televised, having turned into human verisimilitude and sell-out voyeurism. She talks about how ultimately disgusting it is. But her life has been vastly different. When she has to represent her family at charity events or when she’s in the city, there’s photographs being taken. People coming up to her and starting conversations as if they’re dear friends even if she hasn’t seen them in years, things of that nature. But it always makes him second-guess plans he’s making and things he wants to say. 💘: who developed a crush on the other first?

“O’Rian and Riley, sitting in a tree.” Maybe it was the moment when she helped him make Maria’s lunch that night while they were working on his case. Or the time she was putting a band-aid on Maria’s skinned knee. Blowing gently across the wound to take the sting out and she looked up at him. All wide green eyes and smiles. Or maybe a half a dozen other times over the last year of what might be argued in court as the start of their friendship. And he absolutely isn’t going to ruin it. No matter what stupid sing-song tone his partner takes with him.

“K-I-S-S-I-N- OW!”  “Shu’i’ House.”

💝: who spends more time (possibly overthinking) what presents to get the other?

 “....So I can clearly no choose wine in front of me...” She more or less quotes the Princess Bride verbatim to Jay. Tapping on the anniversary hardback, gilt edged, colour plate hand-drawn images version of the book that she’s gotten for Maria. They sit in the coffee shop three blocks down from FAO Schwartz. Jay’s proud that Beth didn’t buy the girl a whole store’s worth of Christmas gifts but the trouble on her face is about the father. Jay smiles behind her cup. There’s more behind the anxiety than the already stated fact that Beth doesn’t want to go over or under board. And as both her friend and her lawyer, Jay knows she’s got to throw the little woman a rope before she spirals into a strange mania. “What do you wanna say to him, through this gift? That you think he’s super hot and you wanna do terrible things to him? That you want to date forever while the rest of us die of old age waiting for a wedding invitation? That you just really love his kid and hope he doesn’t mind you hanging out with her?”

“....”

“It’s a joke, kid.” When her only reply she gets is a frustrated, defeated little whine and Beth’s forehead brushing the tabletop, Jay shakes her head. “Decide how much he means to you and get him something that you know is in the same group of things that he cares about. Like last year I got Baz a brand new tool kit and backboard so he could stop shimmying under whatever car was on the docket for the day and coming home with his back, and leg fucking him over. Ergo. You clearly cannot choose the wine in front of me.”

💓: who initiates most physical contact?

It’s the little things. Toes stuck under his leg or in his lap because they are made from polar ice. The way she reaches up and readjusts his ties, not that they need it. How sometimes the backs of her fingers come to rest against his wrist. The way she gently shoulder-checks him when they’re walking. The way she holds one of Maria’s hands and gets him to take the other, swinging his daughter between them even if she isn’t much taller than the girl.

He doesn’t really think Beth notices these things. He’s sure if she did that she would stop doing them, or at least make a concerted effort. That’s something he’d list as a negative were he ever to make a pros and cons list about her. When she’s not inside her own head or when things are quiet she comes out of her shell and it’s gentle and amazing. But as soon as it’s brought to her attention she shrinks back away from everything, but especially from him. More than once this has made him wonder about her ex and the kind of relationship they had that this would become ingrained behaviour, but he’s never found the right moment to ask about it. Maybe he doesn’t really want to know.

💌: who is more likely to send cutesy texts to the other?

It starts with a good morning. Through-out the rest of the day it’s all just random thoughts and cute pictures. A joke Maria told him. Fun facts from the morgue which aren’t exactly fun but he knows it’s a release valve for her job. Puns. It’s easier to express themselves in a text than it is to say aloud.  Some days they graduate to songs shared. Sometimes it’s a quick video call when they’re working opposite sides of the city or they fall asleep talking. There’s less pressure this way, less strain on already busy days. And some days, it is the hardest thing. When you want to reconnect physically but you can’t.

💟: who spends time reading their zodiac compatibility?

“Dis so ridiculous.”

He glances at her, brow raised, from where he’s making scrambled eggs. “Pisces an’ Cancer make beautiful combination. Dese are some of mos’ romantic couples we know. Bot’ waddah sign an’ connect t’rough a feeling vibration, makin’ words unnecessary. Dere is unspoken bond dat keeps dem togeddah t’rough sorrow, pain, ecstasy.” So far, he isn’t hearing the problem. “Sounds good so far.”

“Should be easy-easy t’ move into her magnetic force field. Ya got every kine it take t’ win her wit’ ya sensitivity an’ psychic attunement. Ya probably speak her favourite lines or appear at da door wi’ her favourite accoutrements intuitively. Don’ ovah t’ink it. Pisces is preddy much able t’ read anybody an’ no one would welcome dat more dan ya Cancer lady who will interpret it as intimacy an’ closeness.” She makes a sound in the back of her throat putting down the paper, but nothing he’s heard so far is wrong or out of place. And he knows better than to say anything.

“Cancer is cardinal sign which means ya got natural leadership ability an’ energy f’ launch one project. Should ya decide dat dis Pisces man ovah dere is da one for you, go into strategic mode. Come up wi’ a plan. Shy an’ feminine as ya are, ya need to have details ready f’ go. Some of da more welcome traits you can exhibit is cookin’ ~yeah right, probably set ya place on fiyah~ cleanin’ up messes, straightenin’ out da details of his life, makin’ sure his clothes are press an’ ready f’ wear, and organizin’ his kitchen. He would probably be grateful for ya help in any of his areas, an’ you can do it wi’out being pushy.”  She makes a face. “Like look for girlfriend...or ya maddah?”

He doesn’t say anything. For the most part he doesn’t like to argue with her, doesn’t know how it would make a difference. And he’s not going to take the bait about her inability to cook. Instead he pads over, kisses the top of her head, and slides eggs onto her plate.

💙: who is more protective?

“Hey, baby. Let me buy you a drink.” “Name nevah is baby, an’ I’m waitin’ for someone.” The guy with Very White Teeth opens his jacket the same way peacocks fan their tailfeathers. She is unimpressed and sighs. “What’s he got that I don’t?” “O’ badge an’ o’ gun.” The words are growled behind VWT and she smiles. VWT turns and looks up. And up some more, all the way to Luka’s face, which is also smiling but not in the same ways and for the same reasons. The guy scuttles back to whatever table he came from and Luka takes his place at the bar. Beth leans over and places a chaste kiss on his cheek. Whispers in his ear every thing whiskey and heat. “Love it when ya do dat.” ~*~ Somewhere between still drunk tonight and early the next morning a strange sound shocks them both awake. Instinctively she reaches for the gun that is no longer on her nightstand but in the unsafe they agreed to when Maria was here. At the same time Luka slips out of bed, grabs the bat she uses for the NYPD baseball team. They pad silently from her bedroom to the kitchen. They both have adrenaline in their system and are prepared to commit grievous bodily harm on the intruder. Who happens to Maria.

And a carton of spilled milk that Houdini is graciously lapping up so no one has to mop the floor. There’s a bowl of cereal and a spoon on the counter.

She smiles at both of them. When the snack is had and the mess is cleaned up, they go back to bed. He kisses her not quite as chastely and definitely not on the cheek.   “O’i love i’ when ye do d’at.”

💚: who tends to get sick more often? who is better at taking care of the other?

He can’t be sick. He doesn’t have time for it. There’s a presentation for science that needs to be finished, he has a sixteen hour volunteer shift he’s got in a couple hours, Maria still needs to get to school, he’s got a meeting with the lawyer, there’s- “Come on, Lu’a,” she murmurs. “Let’s get ya sit up.” She eases him from the pillows into a vaguely sitting position, one hand on his chest and one rubbing small circles against his back. She’s careful not to touch the new, still red scars.

“An’ before ya wan stay argue wi’ me...M’friend Bobby D is gonna cover ya shift. He’s in trouble wi’ his husband again cause of ‘Lantic City an’ can really use da cash. Diorama’s already done. I still t’ink she picked sharks t’ make sure I’d help. I can drop her off before I go in an’ take a early day f’ pick her up. Got ya big glass of juice here. Cold an’ Flu medicine righ’ here wi’ da plastic cup f’ measure wit’.” “Be’d...” “Uhuh. I’m really amazin’ an’ ya no know wha’ ya do wit’out me, I know. I really am dat perfect.” She winks at him. “Gonna wheel in m’ spare tv so ya can catch up on ya Netflix queue or play on da Xbox, but I no wan ya gettin’ out of bed. Doyle say him an’ Anrai comin’ over t’ check on ya an’ bring ya lunch. All I wan’ ya to do is rest. Got me?” “‘F O’i dunna?” “Den is gonna be real hard t’ fit ya in one of my morgue drawer, Detective O’Rian.” He would laugh but for the wracking cough that shakes him stem to stern.

💜: who said "i love you" first? or, if neither has said it yet, who is more likely to say it first?

It sits on his lips a dozen times a day, often a lot more. And every time he thinks he’s going to say it, something comes out of her head that makes him file it away for a better time. Not that he thinks there’s going to be one. So he tries to show her in little ways, in the kind of thing he thinks she’ll find acceptable. Running a hot bath for her. Cooking hot meals for the three of them. Slipping a new book on her night-stand that he thinks she’ll like. Picking up the deep red wines she seems to prefer over everything else. But most of all, he tries to show her he listens. This ... relationship... is vastly different from his marriage. He’s older now, more mature. He’s learned from all the missteps that almost lead to being divorced if not for his wife’s murder. He’s trying to prove himself.

But that’s not the secret to holding this all together.  It’s that he’s learned that, like the sharks she loves so much, the secret of Beth is to never hold her still. She has to be free to move and swim as she likes or she will drown. Suffocate under the weight of everything in the world, her family, her job, her grief. He’s hoping that if he is patient for long enough, she’ll finally see him as safe harbour rather than a cage that will stifle her. ~*~ She spends more time on her knees in her pew these days than she ever did when Andy was alive, and they would go to Mass three times a week. She comes here for peace, for the meditative silence, and to seek forgiveness. She prays to her saints. To the Blessed Mother. But mostly she prays to her brother. She wants his forgiveness. She has to change to survive. She never meant to live her life without him and he had to know that. If things had been different, if he’d been the one to live, she’d want him to be as happy and as whole as he could manage.

She’d never intended to move on. Never intended to meet someone, certainly not another cop. She had absolutely no intention of ever falling in love. But then Luka happened to her. And he’d been so infuriating. So arrogant. So...lost. And he has a daughter who needs if not a mother, certainly a woman she can grow to trust, who can give her advice and teach her things that her father maybe can’t.

And while the guilt will forever eat at her, she’s happy. For the first time in a long time. Is it love? She’s not sure but it very might could be.

💛: who believes in soulmates?

Maria sits on the bench with her friend Tamiqa.

“So who’s picking you up?” “Beth.” “She and your dad have been dating for a while.” “Yeah.”

“Is she nice? It is she like your wicked step mother?” “oh, she’s great. She makes him really happy. But...” “But....what? “They are so dumb. They’re so perfect for each other and still they don’t even hold hands.” “That’s so sad!” “Maybe. But I bet my dad’s going to marry her. They’re soulmates you know.” Tamiqa nods at Maria’s sage wisdom. 

[jawnjendes]

the truth hurts but secrets kill | shawn mendes

chapter 8/?, university au, shawn x goth oc

AN: lol the taglist didnt work on my last chapter so if you havent read but i’ll show you my teeth pls do eet. anyways this chapter is an angsty buildup full of angst. my specialty.

***let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist

masterlist | playlist coming soon

"Where do you live?" Annalise asked for what felt like the thousandth time.

"Do you even think she's capable of answering?" Patrick said, his arm supporting Alessia's waist as he helped her stumble down the university road.

The Lyft to campus went without any major issue. Alessia did not puke in the car, she merely leaned against the door in the backseat. Annalise had gotten annoyingly chatty with the driver, talking about childhood trauma and the inevitability of death. She claimed it was practice for when she's a real therapist, though the driver was trying to focus on the road. Patrick left the driver a generous tip through the app.

The three of them were left just close enough to the dorms, but there was still a walk to be had, and it felt like it was taking centuries with how much Alessia slowed them down. Annalise kept looking around at the dark surroundings as they paced with her pocket knife in hand. Alessia mumbled something incoherent, her head lolling from side to side.

"I've never heard of that building, where is it?" Annalise asked her.

"Dude, you're gonna have to take her back to your place," Patrick told her. "I don't even think she knows her own name."

With a reluctant sigh, Annalise closed her pocket knife and wrapped her arm around the smaller girl's waist. They were approaching the corner where she and Patrick would typically part ways. Alessia noticed the shift and leaned all her weight into Annalise, mumbling under her rancid breath. It wasn't her first time babysitting a drunk toddler, but that doesn't mean she likes doing it.

Patrick was kind enough to walk the two girls up to Annalise's dorm. Alessia was swaying ominously in the elevator, like she wanted to be cradled like a baby. She was definitely ready for bed.

"Ya casi, mi vida," Annalise said as they stumbled down the third floor corridor.

"Why do you call her that?" Patrick asked. "’Me veeda.’ Isn't that what you would call your boyfriend?"

"It's the same thing as a waitress would call you sweetie or something," she replied. "Or the way you'd talk to a toddler. A drunk one."

She managed to pull her key from her back pocket and give it to Patrick. He unlocked the appropriate door, and the three of them were met with more people and more loud music.

Apparently, Stella hadn't planned on staying alone this Saturday night. She was on the armchair, with Camila squished in right next to her. They weren't alone, either. Shawn and Brian were on the couch, each holding a beer. All four of them stared at the two goths holding the short normie up on two feet.

"Oh my god, you're right on time!" Stella exclaimed. "Shawn's working on an EP! He's giving a us a preview! And he made another duet with Camila!"

"Este guey se puso peda," Annalise said with mild snark, gesturing to the girl on her arm. "I'm gonna put her down."

"You're gonna kill her?" Patrick asked, his blue eyes wide. "Damn, I didn't know you hated her that much!"

"Shut up, I brought her here, didn't I?"

She did not look at the guests on the couch as she carefully led Alessia to her bedroom. She ignored Patrick starting up a conversation with everyone. She had things to do, and it was hard enough with her fluffy mind racing.

"There we go, my dear," she said as she sat the intoxicated girl on the bed. "Acuestate, mija. Tomorrow's gonna suck, but you can rest now."

She patted Alessia's head before moving to take off her sneakers. Then, Annalise took her phone from her jacket pocket and plugged it into the charger on then nightstand. Before she could sigh in relief that they all made it back alive, she heard a voice at the door.

"Hey, you."

When Annalise turned to face him, it was like a million fireworks went off at once. Her entire body froze in the best way, and the air in her lungs was knocked out of her. He's even prettier in person.

"Someone have too much fun?" he asked, nodding towards the now sleeping Alessia.

Annalise could not tear her eyes away from his face long enough to think of an answer. All she wanted to do was stare at him for the rest of eternity.

Then, Patrick came up from behind Shawn, an amused grin on his face. "Bro, she's high as a kite right now."

Shawn looked confused for a moment and then turned to him. "Ann doesn't smoke."

"She used to all the fucking time last year." Patrick was still grinning. "She wanted to have fun tonight, so I gave her a hit of my pen."

"So you drugged her up, eh?"

"Bro-"

"I'm not your bro. Don't you care about her health at all? Don't you remember she was in the hospital a couple of months ago?"

The grin faded. "I care about her and her freedom. Not that I have to explain that to you." Patrick excused himself.

Annalise heard every word, but her wide eyes were still on Shawn. She was stepping towards him before she even realized, and then her arms were going around his middle. He was still warm and soft and he smelled good. It was like personified crack. Annalise smiled as her head rested on his chest. "I love you, my baby."

Shawn hesitated, but he hugged her back. "Love you too." Then he pulled back, his hands on her shoulders. "Where are you gonna sleep?"

"The couch." Annalise's fingers were gripping the back of his t-shirt.

"You sure? Wouldn't you rather come stay with me? I'm leaving soon anyway."

Annalise giggled so much her voice squeaked. But she frowned almost instantly. "Don't be like Chad."

"Who's Chad?"

"No one important. I think sober Annalise is gonna be mad at you."

"What? Why?"

She pointed to the sleeping girl on the bed. "That one told high Annalise some things. Sober Annalise might not even remember, but if she does, she'll probably talk to you on check in day. Like, actual talking this time."

"Why can't we talk now?" Shawn asked. "I think high-you will be more understanding than sober-you."

"High Annalise is stupidly in love with you. We'll get nowhere, my dear."

He chewed the inside of his cheek as he gazed down at her. "Yeah, you always call me cute names when you're on drugs. Like that time in the hospital. And all those times you got high with me. Oh wait…" he trailed off. "Every time I asked you to smoke with me you said you didn't trust me enough. But tonight you trusted somebody else, eh?"

She giggled. "I knew you'd be mad at me too. We have much to talk about, baby boy."

~

In theory, the reason for Alessia's disappearance the following morning would be that she remembered the tea she spilled upon waking up and now she wanted to avoid the wrath of the goth girlfriend. In reality, she wouldn't be entirely wrong.

Even after sleeping for twelve hours, Annalise couldn't get those bits of forbidden information out of her head. She had dreams about catching Shawn and Alessia having really loud sex, but she woke up to hear her roommate doing exactly that. Then, she had a recurring dream of Shawn admitting to cheating on her, except this time he had twelve versions of Henry the orange tabby surrounding him. The last dream she remembered having was one where she ended up back in the hospital, and that she was given no anesthesia for her surgery. She had her stomach removed, and she watched every drop of blood and guts come out of the gaping hole in her body.

She woke with a start after every one of these vivid dreams. Maybe it was the after effects of being stoned, but she felt uneasy for that whole day. She typically binged to her heart's content, but the hospital dream was still on her mind. She allowed herself to have a Lunchables, but not much else.

Then, Monday rolled around and Annalise found it difficult to act like a person. She got out of bed, had an unsatisfying breakfast. She did it, and that's the only thing that matters right? Screw all the other feelings. The paranoia she felt after the Abnormal Psych lecture about eating disorders doesn't matter. The impending embarrassing discomfort  from sitting alone at a table in Bio Lab doesn't matter either. Who cares about the sad ache in her chest after seeing Shawn and Alessia leave their class together? Who cares if they're still in high spirits even though they knew that Annalise knew? Who cares?

Annalise doesn't, that's for damn sure. She was perfectly fine. She pushed herself out of bed today even though she wanted nothing more than to induce a coma on herself. Who cares if she still felt shitty after?

Although, she was putting off the impending chat with Shawn until check in on Saturday. He had to know it was coming, why else would he just stop texting her?

Unless he's already with Alessia, and therefore playing me like a violin. Maybe Shawn was just ignoring me to make me go crazy.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Annalise whispered as she put on her headphones. She was glad she caught herself slipping, she didn't want the wide-eyed crazies on display as she walked out of the Social Studies building.

Her steps were slower and more careful as she picked a song to play from her phone. After settling for Halsey, she pulled out her black, round sunglasses and put them on. Gotta hide them nightmare eyes.

Maybe… perhaps… I need to check in earlier than normal?

"Don't be stupid," she told herself.

It wouldn't hurt though, would it? Maybe he would be happy to see me since I would be breaking my own rule. Unless, of course, he's hanging around Alessia again. Perhaps he doesn't care anymore.

The only solution Annalise had was to dump herself on the couch in the dorm and play Tetris 99 until the thoughts and feelings sorted themselves out.

When Stella came home, she knew the drill. She sat on the couch and ranted about her day. She rambled on about her fascist history professor and the lack of a GSA club on campus. Then, she mentioned a Halloween party coming up at one of the frat houses, and that she needed a hot costume.

It was the month where Annalise and all her spooky darkness was socially acceptable, and she couldn't even be excited about it. A different type of darkness was taking over, and it was stupid that it was over a boy. Why did she have to be so dramatic? Why was she so goddamn crazy?

"I'll pick your costume," she said over Stella's rambling.

She paused, her brilliant hazel eyes wide. To say she was surprised that Annalise cracked so fast would be an understatement. But she smiled. "Would you? Ooo, can I pick yours?"

"Ah, I don't think I'm gonna do anything for Halloween this year."

"What? But it's your favorite holiday! You need to come to this party with me! Buddy system, remember?"

"Is that the only reason-"

"Of course not, you dummy! We haven't spent enough time together since the semester started! Let's go find some costumes, yeah? I'll even let you dress me up as scary as you want!"

Stella's a good friend. Annalise should really try harder to spend time with her. Why didn't she try to be a good friend in return?

They went to the local costume store that Friday. It gave Annalise a wonderful excuse to not go to the gaming club meeting. She really did not want to reflect on the Bart adventure, or see just how bad she fucked up Chad's nose.

After returning to campus with a dark but still cute witch costume, Stella was summoned to Camila's dorm. She thanked Annalise for the lovely costume choice and practically abandoned her. Annalise couldn't find it in her to really care. It was only a few more hours until Saturday.

She had barely settled herself on the couch when her phone buzzed. For the first time this week, Shawn had texted her. Annalise held her phone up, staring blankly at the screen. Her heart should be pounding right now, shouldn't it?

"Hey, I know check in is tomorrow but I can't make it at our usual time. I have a gig tomorrow night. You should come and we can talk after."

The next text was the address to the lounge he would be performing at.

Any other time, Annalise would have been happy to know Shawn was performing again. But he cancelled on her, knowing that he was in trouble. Is that what it took for him to start booking shows again? Was this just an elaborate way to avoid Annalise? Perhaps this was just some form of reverse psychology so she wouldn't go to the gig.

You can't psych out a psychology major. Of course Annalise was going to this gig.

However, she had a mostly sleepless night, really unable to shake the fact that Shawn was probably avoiding her. When she finally did sleep, she slept too much. Annalise woke up in the afternoon and was late for work. She had planned to ask if she could leave early, but she didn't dare try anything now. The gig was at eight, when her shift ended. She ended up going to the lounge in her work uniform, a button up with the dealership name on, and baggy slacks. Not exactly the sexy outfit she had planned during the late hours of insomnia.

The show had already started by the time she got there. As she was showing her ID to the bouncer, she heard Shawn's voice over the mic, and she felt something for the first time in days. Her stomach felt tight as she slowly stepped into the lounge.

The turnout was decent. Every single table and bar stool was occupied, and all eyes were on the band performing on the stage. Annalise looked around for any empty space; She wasn't dressed her best but she did want to be anywhere but against the wall opposite the stage. Her eyes spotted the group of people standing directly in front of the stage.

It was the normal group of girls who swooned every time Shawn blinked, but there were also three other girls that Annalise knew all too well. They were jumping and singing along to Lost in Japan, not a single care in the world. Annalise wondered why Stella didn't tell her that she was going to this event, but the way she looked at Camila as they sang to each other said enough. Maybe they chose Alessia to be their new third wheel too. So Alessia was too embarrassed to face Annalise, but not Shawn?

Annalise always stood in the back of every one of Shawn's shows, knowing she would stick out like a sore thumb in the midst of the usual fangirls. Not that that's a bad thing, it just wasn't her usual place to be. She figured that showing up at all would be enough.

Perhaps Shawn already had enough. Three of his friends were already cheering him on, and surely he had more of them scattered in the audience. Not to mention, the people here that didn't know him were going to adore him by the end of the night. Besides, Shawn most likely invited her as a ploy to get her to turn it down. She wasn't needed here. Annalise chewed the inside of her lip as she back up towards the exit. She stepped outside, away from the people trying to get in, and she pulled her phone out. She composed a new text:

"Hey, I'm drowning in work so I won't make it to your show. I'll meet you at your place later so we can talk🖤"

_______

taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @ilsolee @mendesromano @1-800-khalid-mendussy @kitykatnumber @strangerliaa @iloveshawnieboi @poppyshawn @shawnsunflower @shawnvvmendes @ruinhoney @someoneunimportantxx @calyumthomas @yourdeflightfullyleft @havethetimeeofyourlifee @shawmndes @wronglanemendes @chillingbythesea 

[ari-nemera]

Hey, so I just finished Stranger Thing Season 3, and well, I feel I need to debunk the entire ‘capitalist propaganda’ bullshit I’ve been seeing warnings for since the season first aired, and why I would argue that it isn’t anti-communist in a modern sense as well.

Without spoiling anything for would-be watchers, I will say that (while this should be obvious) Stranger Things takes place during the 1980′s, which was during the nuclear scare caused by the stupid rivalry between the US and the Soviet Union. Season 3 relies on anti-Russian sentiment during the time period to recreate a relatively classical ‘evil commies’ plot (ST is, at its heart, an homage to 80′s horror), but with a eldritch Stranger Things(TM) twist.

I am explaining this because if you know anything about a combo of historical accuracy and the Soviet Union, it isn’t anti-communist propaganda. The Soviet Union was a farce and a thinly veiled dictatorship based around oppression of the working class, and even today, modern communists make a point of stressing their lack of ideological similarities to the SU when questioned by the uneducated. The ‘commies’ in this season have nothing in common with neo-communist thinking, and anyone who knows anything about history would understand this immediately.

Now, in order to debunk the pro capitalism bullshit I’ve been seeing, I will need to spoil minor things about characters/ the plot, so if you haven’t watched the third season, but want to have your concerns based on terrible rumors appeased, be prepared to have some small spoilers. (nothing plot-breaking)

OK- TO START:

There are exactly three instances in which capitalism is mentioned/ alluded to in this season, and I will list them and describe them in order.

First: Hawkins gets a new mall. This mall, like many at the time (thanks ST for the historical accuracy), causes the death of Hawkins downtown small businesses. This is framed as a bad thing. Everyone who owns a business downtown who has lost their store does a picket protest outside of the Mayor’s office. (he funded the Mall)

The Mayor, a minor villain in the season, calls in Hopper to try and convince him to chase away the protestors. Hopper isn’t happy with this idea and argues that it’s their right to protest. (notice that this is the main character saying this) The mayor then uses Capitalism as an excuse for why everyone protesting doesn’t matter, it’s just business! (oh hey, this is being said by the villain.) and Hopper is disgusted.

But the mayor threatens hopper and uses ‘they need a permit to protest’ to force Hopper to make them leave. (something it’s heavily implied Hopper doesn’t want to do, but feels pressured into because of his job)

Already, Capitalism is being framed as unfair and cruel to the working class. it is used as an excuse by a man in power to try and convince a good character (without success) that his terrible actions are Good Actually, but in reality it’s destroying the town’s economy.

Second: A new main character is introduced! It’s Lucas’ little sister, Erica.  We’ve seen her infamously bratty character in previous seasons. In this season, she gets pulled into the spotlight because of her size. Steve, Robin (another new character whom I love), and Dustin need someone small enough to crawl through a vent. She happens upon their secret scheme, and is indoctrinated into their little plan.

After manipulating them into giving her ice cream, they beg her to do it because  “it will save the world”. She seems unconvinced. (she’s already been framed as manipulative and selfish) Dustin, in desperation, asks her if she loves America. She replies by snarking “Yeah! You can’t spell America without Erica!” and goes on to explain that She “loves Capitalism! Do you know how capitalism works? people can be be bought for goods and services. and you will have to buy my services.” This is seen as frustrating and shallow by the main cast, who can’t understand why just saving the world isn’t good enough. Let me repeat, her love of capitalism negatively frames her as the selfish and obtuse one. Her use of pro-capitalism rhetoric is seen as a roadblock, and is not treated like a good thing.

From that point on, Erica is cast as an antihero. She is not interested in doing good for the sake of being a good person. She is seen as someone everyone else must work around in order to do anything with any moral weight. She literally will not help them until she gets paid in ice cream. While she goes on to develop herself in other ways, (and her snark is fun and v likeable at times) Dustin literally only compliments her understanding of different systems of government once (as it’s framed as a weird thing for her to have any understanding of) and never comments on her love of capitalism specifically in a positive light. He uses her smarts to call her a nerd.

Finally: This is probably the most spoiler filled section. Sorry. :/  Another new character, Alexi, is a Russian scientist who can’t speak a lick if English and his relationship with the cast is honestly fucking hilarious. He’s a hostage who wants to keep it that way. He wants to become an American. it’s like, the most classic ‘I want to escape my horrible commie life and live Free(TM)’ plot, but even then, America isn’t treated like some great country. His one friend, Murray (the same from season 2, and the only American who can speak Russian) Unhandcuffs him and takes him to the 4th of July fair while they’re waiting on some other characters.

There, while he’s purchasing Alexi tickets, he mockingly brags about how all the games at the fair are rigged, and that all the money from the poor is fed into the rich’s pockets through tricks and manipulation: “THAT- is America!” he exclaims. Murray is already someone we know hates and distrusts the government. In the context of his character, this is not a positive statement. He is dripping with sarcasm.

While he is clearly portrayed as excited about the idea of Alexi becoming an American citizen, this excitement is not about America itself. He says this as if to warn Alexi that if he wants to be American, he’ll have to put up with everything that entails. Alexi treats this with incredulity, (whaaaaat the games are riiiggged??? no way!) and goes to try and prove Murray wrong. :/ things go downhill from there.

----------------

So anyway, this season is pretty blatantly anti-capitalist???? wtf??? Where did you guys get ANY of the pro-capitalism I kept hearing about?? There isn’t any! Capitalism is clearly being mocked every time it gets brought up. None of these situations would leave the audience being happy with capitalism.

If you want a real complaint, why the fuck did they make Lucas do a fucking Coke commercial in the middle of the goddamn CLIMAX. *internal screaming*

ok but all things aside, this season is p gorey. super triggering honestly. (you want to see a pile of bloody guts move like a slug???? no??? don’t watch this season. seriously. they went for accuracy there and it’s... a lot. I had actual nausea during some of the later episodes.)

As far as pros- It is waaay better and more cohesive than season 2 tho! I really liked it! Max and Steve really shine in this season, and everyone gets some pretty great character development. Hopper is just, the ultimate dad in this season.  (Oh, but Will’s life sucks. Why can’t this boy ever be allowed any happiness. His character arc is best describes as ‘Serious Gay Angst and Longing’. I want Will’s entire family to just have a vacation to goddamn Disney World)

[thebrochtuarachs]

If they want me (a fan) to talk about it, I’ll talk about it.

Outlander S4 PR has been doing so well until this (IMHO).

My take on some Q&A from Cait’s Parade article. 

It’s 3AM where I am and there will be grammatical errors on this but I had to let it out. 

Really lengthy, snark, rant ahead. You’ve been warned. ✌🏻😊 Feel free to pass if not your cup of tea. I mean, I probably wrote a bunch of woozy anyway. But this is my space and yeah, haha! 

1. What’s with the title?

Yeah, Sam’s name just had to be inserted somewhere here to make it clickable, sure. I don’t know if the motivation for “total opposite” was to show “how different Sam and Cait are” or “how Sam and Cait will never be” - but all I know is...opposites attract. If it meant to hurt shippers, well, were just getting started here. 

But seriously - If I get a chance to chat with Caitriona Balfe about season 4 scoop, I’d prefer that instead of talking about fans and using the name of her supposed platonic co-star to speculate some clickbait on the article. If the latter was the goal, they probably succeeded a bit cause here am I writing this loooong post. 

2. A great mystery - Who is Maestro? 

First of all, Caitriona is NOT newly engaged - ITS ALMOST BEEN A YEAR. Second, I am yet again confused as to the nationality and job of the great maestro. I asked this once in my blog and an anon came through with a thorough explanation of Maestro’s “history” but I guess I’ll just go back to “NEVER being sure who he really is” again. 

3. Oh, I grew up watching car races and now I’m in a racing movie!

I get the PR - Cait grew up watching car racing and now she’s in a car racing movie, what a way to come round full circle. 

But I’ve read a couple of articles from Cait about her life in Ireland before and never have I seen before that she’s mentioned that watching car races was part of their family tradition holidays up until now. (or is there? I may be wrong. I’m not sure, could be. Some other people can share it, if there is) But nonetheless, true or not, it works well with the PR. 

Also, Cait, I know a guy (Sam) who goes and watches F1 races from the paddocks. Why don’t you guys drop by sometime and you know, watch together? *wink wink* It’ll be good for research and stuff. Not to mention going out with one of your best mate, am I right? ✌🏻

4. I spend the weekends by myself - as shown in the way this statement is filled with singular pronouns

She drags herself alone to go out for some food, She reads alone, she walks alone, she prepares her own food and putters around the house. (I am my own, independent person regardless of my “soon-to-be hitched” status)

Okay, the way I see this - she really doesn’t want to be defined who she’s in a relationship with or who she’s engaged with. Look how independent the statement above is. I get it - she wants to be known more as “an actress” and not as an “engaged and extremely in love with my fiancé actress”. 

Basically it kinda says “sometimes forget I’m engaged at all except when Sam and I are being too touchy-feely with each other.” 

But seriously, Cait, not screaming/vibing engaged here! Meaning saying his actual name and weaving your relationship in the public face, inviting him to pose with you in red carpets and events despite his “shy” stature, etc. Erm, maybe just don’t be engaged at all and don’t get married yet - I didn’t say break it up or anything, just straighten the confusing narrative first? 

5. I am not exactly like Claire but Sam, my co-star only, will be the first one to disagree.

Why do I feel like “and the other people who know me very well” line got added after a pause cause Sam got mentioned and she cannot mention only Sam because fans will suspect. Hahaha! (And suspect we well cause isn’t that the purpose of this article?)

Also, but why not “Tony, my fiance, will be first to disagree because he knows me so well” rather than her “were super platonic only” co-star? 

Oh, cause of the narrative. 

Which narrative again? I am getting confused now. 

Oh, the one where Sam Heughan is just her friend who loves her and knows her so well. 

Great. 

6. SINCE SAM GOT MENTIONED THE QUESTION BEFORE ITS ONLY NATURAL WE TALK ABOUT HIM...

OMG, my English grammar mind is like screaching those dangling modifiers. “Sam Heughan, who plays your soul mate...” HAHAHAHAHA! That’s the first thing that I noticed. Second, the question would be much clearer if phrased “Are you good friends with Sam Heughan, who plays Jamie Fraser, your character’s soul mate?” - SEE ��sentence construction HERE, we would be talking about the show and its characters and not see anything else. But then, this is just me.

Also, why ask Cait if she’s good friends with Sam? Of course she is! (and I truly believe this regardless of whatever situation they chose). Other wise, if she says “no”, just imagine the PR nightmare it would entail. The repercussions, the bad PR from tabloids how the two leads “don’t get along”, the possibility of not getting renewed after season 6, a lot of bad will follow if she said the wrong answer. Hahahaha! Either this or the writer (don't know his history with OL) is super new to the fandom who don’t have an idea just how close Sam and Cait are.

Oh goody, we get the Hyde Park walk mentioned again! I always love this memory of theirs.

Comment on Paragraph 1: Why do I feel like Cait got caught off guard rehashing this story. The answer, if verbatim, is so jumpy and incoherent. Like I could summarise the story in shorter sentences. Eitherway, I’ve always loved that they spent the time together at the beginning and realised just how much of a relationship they were going to have. Also, the line” Who knows what this is going to be?” which they asked even before they started filming - so loaded the possibilities of the meaning of this simple question. 

Comment on Paragraph 2: Shouldn’t it be maestro’s job to be her biggest supporter, the first person she calls to have talking to about stress? Also, love the “vice versa”. Sometimes, I can’t imagine Sam being the stressed one between the two of them but I just love their dynamic. OH AND THEY HAVE SIMILAR PERSONALITY TRAITS (where is the complete opposite part?! (*see next question*, here we go)

7. HOW TO DESCRIBE BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP 101

Here it is....how opposite Sam Heughan and Caitriona Balfe are that it’s impossible to think of them ever being in a relationship. 

Cait is bullish and Sam calms her down before she gets too frustrated. 

Sam is a little passive and Cait gives him a nudge and a strength to stand up for something. 

OH WAIT

Erm, what you guys just described about each other is “being in a good, healthy relationship” - thanks, bye. Again...opposites attract. The statements just show that they’re both not as strong as one seem and really feed off strength from each other’s lives and company. Like, you know, being together or something to that effect. 

Also, if you guys, Sam and Cait, are dropping the fake narrative soon, you know - Cait can nudge Sam to stand up for them and publicise their “real”  relationship and then when the reality of their “real score” being revealed gets too frustrated, Sam just can calm Cait down. It’s honestly, a win-win, guys. 

8. ONTO THE “BEST FANS EVER”

This question was actually fine until the follow up...

9. WAS ASKING THIS QUESTION FREAKING NECESSARY?

I think I’ve mentioned this before but IF PR WANTS TO STAY AWAY FROM FANS TALKING ABOUT SAMCAIT, then they have to stop allowing these kind of questions. They could’ve asked the author to not include this question in the publishing because what is the freaking point. If the writer have done his research, he already knows the answer to this (heck we know from various and numeous sources). And if he knew the climate of the fandom, this should not have been asked published - yet again.  I’m sure Sam and Cait hate answering these questions because, lets admit it, it takes away some of the magic. But here it is and there again is their punchline and I’ve seen this same answer as before. 

But Cait had to add something new: “But I think things are pretty clear now that I'm engaged to someone else. Everyone gets it now” HMMMMMMMMM...So was the purpose of the engagement to put off the stench and speculation that Sam and you aren’t together? That the main purpose was for all shippers to stop shipping you and Sam cause you’re engaged some someone else whose name you’ve yet to mention yourself in public or social media and your fans have no total idea who he is and what he does for a living? 

Oh and uhh, Cait - NOT EVERYONE GETS IT NOW. If anything, were all the more confused. Also, regardless of what you guys do, you can never ever avoid the shipping (real or show) cause that’s just fanning is. Oh, and you’re not the first and only ship with OTP that have spouses. Seriously, you’re not the first nor the only experiencing this and the other fandoms have actually embraced this instead of trying so hard to shut it down. 

9. REHASHING SEMI-FAMOUS FANDOM HISTORY

Seriously. 

If the author had done his/her research, these are semi-famous stories already from before and he could’ve asked about book 4 or season 4 or anything RECENT that would make sense why this article was even written in the first place. 

I just think it’s a missed opportunity to ask something else, something new. Meh. 

10. Cait’s Faves

Maybe it should be Cait’s current fave things.

TSWDM as her favorite movie? I mean no offence to TSWDM but considering how deep her book choices are, I thought she’d choose a “deep, serious” movie as her favorite but choosing her “platonic” co-stars recent comedy flick as her choice (maybe in support of them having each other’s backs, you know) she chose that one - or maybe she really, really loved the movie too. 

Race Car Documentaries - lets push the PR for her upcoming movie, yes!! 

The Fiery Cross - EARLY PROMO FOR NEXT SEASON!!

Yeah, so I wouldn’t assume this is Cait’s “all-time” faves... 

-

SO, WHY DID I DO THIS?!

BECAUSE I THOUGHT I’D FIND A POINT ABOUT THIS ARTCLE AND NOT SOME OBVIOUS HIDDEN AGENDA BEHIND IT?

WHAT EXACTLY WAS THE POINT OF THIS ARTICLE? WHY DID IT NOT TALK ABOUT OUTLANDER OR SEASON 4 AT ALL INSTEAD OF FANS AND NARRATIVES?

WHAT IS THIS PUBLICITY ALL ABOUT?

TO REITERATE THE “THEY’RE NOT TOGETHER” NARRATIVE CAUSE THE “SHE’S ENGAGED TO ANOTHER GUY” WASN’T ENOUGH OR DIDN’T WORK? TO PROVE JUST HOW WEIRD SOME CORNER OF THE FANDOM IS (as per the writing of this lengthy, rant post)

SERIOUSLY. I AM FLARING.

BECAUSE ALL THESE IS IRRELEVANT TO THE PROMOTION OF OUTLANDER SEASON 4 AND IT IRKS ME THAT THEY HAD OR TRYING TO PUT SHIPPER FANS IN, YET AGAIN, A BAD LIGHT, WHEN WE’RE TRYING TO STAY IN OUR LANE FOR MOST OF THE YEAR AND MAKING SENSE OF WHAT’S GOING ON. 

IS THIS WHAT THEY WANTED? FANS TALKING AROUND HOW IRRELEVANT THESE THINGS ARE? OR SPECULATE HOW WEIRD OR AMBIGUOUS EACH ANSWER IS?! 

Oh, Lordy. 

COME ON, PR.

SELL YOUR SHOW. 

NOT THE “NOT IN A RELATIONSHIP”. 

NOT THE “BEST FANS EVER”.

NOT THE “DELUSIONAL” FANS WHO NOW FINALLY “GETS IT”. (cause, as per this article, we still don’t)

SELL YOUR SHOW AND WHAT IT’S ABOUT - JAMIE AND CLAIRE FRASER.

BECAUSE ALL I WANT IS OUTLANDER SEASON 4 COVERAGE. 

TALK ABOUT CLAIRE AND JAMIE. TALK ABOUT BREE. TALK ABOUT THE BOOK. TALK ABOUT THE RIDGE. TALK ABOUT THEIR CHARACTER’S AND BOOK’S LIFE. 

SUCH A WASTE OF SPACE AND TIME AND ALL FOR WHAT?

TO IRK SHIPPY FANS TO MORE EYE-ROLLING MOMENTS?

TO GET RID OF THE 20 SHIPPERS REMAINING?

CAUSE GUESS WHAT OUTLANDER/STARZ PR?

THE (RESPECTFUL) SHIPPING WILL NEVER STOP EVEN IF CAIT AND SAM ARE MARRIED - EITHER TO EACH OTHER OR OTHER PEOPLE.

THAT’S JUST HOW IT IS AND HOW ITS GOING TO BE CAUSE THAT IS FANDOM AND THAT IS SHIPPING.

SO, JUST FOCUS ON SELLING THE SHOW AND WHAT ITS REALLY ALL ABOUT.

JAMIE AND CLAIRE FRASER.

NOTHING MORE. NOTHING LESS. 

Thanks. 

*end of caps lock writing*

It’s 4AM and I’m going to sleep. 

-

Updating this the following day after reading some comments and theories as to why this ever seen the light of day: 

1. Could this be a follow up “aggressive shipper” article by EW?! A ploy put into place by Sony/Starz to, yet again, attack the “shipping” community? 

IT COULD VERY WELL BE. WHY ELSE PUT UP THIS NONSENSE OF AN ARTICLE THAT DOESN’T PROMOTE THE SHOW ONE BIT. 

Like to control shippers yet again after the love fest the past two weeks at cons? To control shippers after releasing S4 promo photos of Jamie and Claire?

I mean if they put this same effort in shutting “shippers” down to promoting their show, they might increase their ratings and subscribers!! UGH. 

2. Could Caitriona be that Caitriona did NOT actually say some of the things said? 

Possibly. I mean, now that I think about it, some statements were contradictory to what she’s said before and the language seems a little too forward that she usually is (e.g. “But I think it’s pretty clear now. I’m engaged now so everyone gets it”). Yeah, maybe it doesn’t feel like Cait saying this - cause I think she knows it’s NEVER clear but - yeah, could be. Could be that the this article was written deliberately to counter the “aggressive shipping” happening since the cons and using Cait’s “engagement” was their weapon of choice this time. 

[theonceoverthinker]

OUAT 2X01 - Broken

It’s good to be back! Who’s ready for Season 2?

It should be TWO-bular!

...Did you miss the puns?

I missed the puns.

Anyway, under the cut is where you oughta be to hear my thoughts, both cute and seriously! (Going all out here! You get puns AND a rhyme! I spoil you all!)

Press Release Reality and myth begin to merge as the fairytale characters awaken from Evil Queen Regina’s broken curse and remember who they were. But to their dismay, they aren’t transported back to fairytale land. To make matters worse, Rumplestiltskin - aka Mr. Gold - in an effort to gain the upper hand in his power struggle with Regina, has introduced magic into the town. In fairytales magic has its place, but in our world it can have unfathomable consequences. Meanwhile, back in the fairytale land, Prince Phillip awakens his sleeping beauty, Aurora, but discovers that he and his traveling companion, Mulan, will soon have to face a deadly foe. General Thoughts - Characters/Stories/Themes and Their Effectiveness Past The past segment here does an interesting job answering the question of what happened to the Enchanted Forest. Aurora’s a great focal point because just like her, we’re being introduced to the remains of the land with answers only slowly being revealed. At the same time, it’s not for lack of trying on Aurora’s part. She’s quite no-nonsense and inquisitive, but still romantic and trusting enough to believe Phillip as he continues to lie to her.

Additionally, there’s a great deal of tension created between all three mains. Between Aurora and Phillip, there’s the lie about the Wraith’s mark. Between Aurora and Mulan, there’s the threat of romances with Phillip. And between Phillip and Mulan, there’s the fact that they’re both lying to Aurora about everything, the fact that Mulan’s not particularly warm to someone who seems to be characterized as such, and the fact that Phillip’s also lying to her, too. The way that it all comes to a head is just perfect and it leaves everyone in a really interesting for future episodes. It was also cool to see that this was the immediate future following the events of the present segment, a fun way of playing with time and a component for a fantastic twist! Present This episode does a marvelous job exploring exactly what one would want to see after the curse breaks. We get to see happiness through reunions, and on a large scale. At the same time, we get to see the chaos that would be expected too. Mary Margaret and Blue’s reunion (As small as it was) illustrated this best for me. There was that glee in the action of them holding hands, but panic upon the discussion of magic. Additionally, there’s a great buildup to Emma’s source of pain as well, and it’s contrasted so well against Snow and Charming’s enthusiasm. Emma’s character is not forgotten and her pain from the past is still present and valid, making her inability to connect with her parents so sympathetic and heartbreaking. This is a large part of the heart of the story, especially this season!

It’s also great how this story intertwines so well with Rumple and Belle’s. And let’s talk about their story, because it’s fantastic! Rumple having Belle back doesn’t just up and solve his problems. He’s still who he is and he even lies to her and actually gets consequences for it. Granted, they’re temporary consequences (I personally would’ve kept them apart for another episod at least), but at least Rumple is given a sting for what he did and Belle is very clearly framed in the right for her feelings and actions in response to the lie, so I don’t have that many complaints. All Encompassing I was thinking of a grand theme for this episode, and I think Mulan put it best: “Love is sacrifice.” Throughout the different dynamics on display in”Broken,” this was the most prevalent. Now, of course, it’s prevalent in the past, as Phillip’s love for both Aurora and Mulan has him sacrifice himself to the Wraith. But it’s also littered through the present like purple magic smoke. Snow and Charming’s love for Emma came at the cost of potentially sacrificing their relationship with her. Emma’s love for Henry came at the cost of her sacrificing both her hatred for Regina and her being in the same realm as him. Belle’s love for Rumple came with the sacrifice of her anger towards his lie. Those are just a couple of them, but you get my point. It was a well delivered theme that worked with our cast of characters and gave way for the stories they’re going to have going forward! Insights - Stream of Consciousness -The first time I saw this opening, I actually thought I found the wrong show because it was so different than anything we had seen from OUaT so far. Now, it’s so cool for precisely that reason! It’s a jarring turn (A new protagonist and setting and the return of the pop music) that still has tiny elements of the show (The horse and the well-dress rider that gives a vague fantasy vibe). Even the way it’s shot is something that’s more real than the different angles we got in Storybrooke. It just makes the moment when we see both something fantastical from Storybrooke all the more striking. -I forgot how no-nonsense Aurora could be! While still romantic, she’s very questioning and has a nice bit of snark to her. -I love the way magic just hovers in the air, like a harmless sandstorm. It’s hazy and mystical and just a touch threatening because of those that have magic, but there’s a calmness to it too that makes it so lovely to look at. -Those reunions are positively heartwarming! It feels so beautifully earned and everyone is so well connected! It was a great idea to start here as a buildup to the reunion with Emma. -And speaking of, I’ve got to give all the credit in the world to Josh and Ginny. Their reaction to seeing Emma for the first time uncursed is beautiful. Just like in the finale, Snow and Charming get so speechless, ironically showing the emphasis of the moment. And Jen too! Emma’s reaction to this is pretty fitting -- not running at the moment, but this is a lot to take in. The two sets of performances create a stunning contrast with each other to make a reunion so distinct. -Robert Carlyle’s face! Rumple is out for BLOOD! -Also, I just realized that we haven’t seen Regina, and given the last frame of her from Season 1, that is fantastic buildup! -I have...opinions on the whole “no killing under any circumstances” policy, but right now’s not the best time to write that out. -That said, I LOVE Henry’s reaction to the mob invading Regina’s house. It puts Henry’s behavior and expectations towards Regina in Season 1 in context and affirms that for as much as he wants the curse to be undone and for her to lose, he does love her. -The buildup to Regina’s lack of magic is stunning and hilarious! Everyone in the crowd pull off their anger and fear so well and Lana’s put all the ham in to make this such a fantastic moment! -Whale is just the fucking worst! -THANK YOU SNOW!!!! FUCK! YES! THAT WAS THE WAY TO HANDLE REGINA! LOCKING HER UP IS A GOOD IDEA! Seriously, as I said before, while I feel like “no killing under any circumstances” isn’t an ideal way of conducting things for someone who committed harm and could intend more of it, there do need to be consequences for that behavior and Snow went about making a good decision about how to enforce those consequences. I feel like if the Wraith hadn’t taken Emma and Mary Margaret away and Regina hadn’t got her magic back, she would’ve also suggested a trial. -Did Emma change jackets between being at Regina and the sheriff’s station? -Rumple’s “OH” face at the jail cell is so beautiful! XD -My headcanon is that Wraiths have pool parties in the River of Lost Souls during their down time! XD -Did RUMPLE get a haircut and I just didn’t notice? His hair looked so long in the station compared to now! -How do non-Dark Ones summon Wraiths? Apart from the one that invaded Aurora’s land, Mulan has at least heard of them before. -I only realized now how much the writers pull that “I’m dying, but I can’t let my beloved know” trope. I don’t mind it (It’s romantic, tragic, and usually has an interesting bit of lore and character interaction because of it), but when I think about it, wow, there’s a staggering amount of those instances! -”You’re going to have to be more specific.” Given all that he’s done in the last 12-24 hours, that is quite the legitimate question! -Rumple, I get that Emma broke the curse, saved Henry, and reunited with her parents, but you know damn well what you did! Like, leave a note or something! Emma thought her kid was dead and you above all others should empathize! And kudos to Emma for just not buying it for a second! -I’m stuck between finding the Wraith cool as hell and fake as hell, but I’m going to lead towards the former! -Holy crap! Snow’s pulling a pre-Gina Linetti Gina Linetti with that lighter and can! When did I start loving Snow so much because holy crap, I like Snow! -Awww! There’s some cute Regal Believer when Regina asked if Henry really asked her to protect her! -Okay, so I may be the last person in the world who cares about plot holes, but how did Aurora sacrifice herself when she was cursed? -Josh had some glorious acting when it came to the post-portal anger with Regina? You can see every beat of sweat and hear the snarl in his voice! It was equal parts sad and scary -Henry asking Regina to stay away from him and everyone was also the right call. I swear I love Regina, but Henry’s decision both has a level of him giving Regina due consequences and a level of childish pettiness because his presence (As far as he knows at this moment) won’t affect her progress. -I didn’t think until now about how tragic it is that David and Henry, two people who never lived in the loft, now are, but without either of the two usual inhabits. How much are you willing to bet that they spent the day during the reunions imagining settling down in the loft with Emma and Snow, just the four of them together and happy! It makes the bleakness of those first few moments in the loft, such an iconic and bright setting in the last season so sad. -I also feel like I like David a lot more this season! He’s a lot more determined and given emotional provisions, and by that I mean, the emotions that he has are more well founded. Arcs - How are These Storylines Progressing? We’re mostly back to just the introductions of conflicts here: Emma accepting her parents - This is set up to be Emma’s internal conflict throughout the episode and I’d argue the season if not also the next one too. There are multiple facets to it. First, Emma’s collecting her bearings with the giant revelation, and second, she’s working through an underlying bitterness at her parents for leaving her alone throughout those twenty eight years. Emma and Snow stuck in the EF - This one just kind of explains itself! Storybrooke working to get them back - See above. Regina’s Redemption - A line from my favorite critic, Moviebob that he said quite recently in regards to the protagonists of “The Guardians of the Galaxy” franchise got me thinking as to the nature of redemption for the villains of the show as a whole. It basically amounts to the titular characters and others who redeem themselves do so “through their commitment to each other and a higher cause.” And I think that’s why I’d say that Regina’s redemption starts here. While probably more true for when she first adopted Henry, one can definitely say that their dynamic grew a little skewed both before and during Season 1. So I’d say that this is the rebirth of Regina’s commitment to both Henry and doing better as a person by bringing back Emma and Snow, and thus the true start to her redemption.  Favorite Dynamic Emma and Snow - While I was tempted to put Charming in here too, Snow is the driving force behind this dynamic as she is the more active in her demands. In addition to being a dynamic that plays with the theme of “love is sacrifice” (In two respects with them, actually), as I mentioned before, they have a great contrast. Mary Margaret’s passion for meeting her daughter is so wonderfully enthusiastic while Emma’s is...not. What I love is how not only do both women get time to discuss those feelings, but how both of their contrasting feelings are portrayed by the story and the conflicting character as completely valid. While everyone wants Emma to have that same joy as her parents, she doesn’t, and while admittedly a touch selfish (Though I’d also argue understandably so), there’s an understanding that this isn’t just something that she’s going to process right away. Writer Adam and Eddy are of course in charge here, and I think they delivered on exactly what they needed to! Exiting the curse was a big step and doing so would require things that an audience needed to see, both good and bad, across both realms and they did a great job of that. On top of that, the mixing of all three storylines is some of the best that I’ve ever seen of the series. It all feels so seamless and natural how they intersect. Rating Golden Apple (10/10 with an * for superb quality). This episode would’ve been good enough had we just seen the reunions and consequences of the actions in the Season 1 finale. However, we got more than just that. We got new characters, a new story, perfect character conflicts that exist so well with who we have and what they mean to each other, a twinge of lore, and some mysteries to be solved throughout the season! Everyone gets something to do and a “shining” moment (Whether it be an action of heroism or villainy), and it just meshes together really well. It’s just a well put together episode and deserves the appropriate acclaim! Flip My Ship - Home of All Things “Shippy Goodness” Sleeping Warrior - We definitely get some of that enemies to lovers stuff here, and I always enjoy that! There’s a great chemistry between Jamie Chung and Sarah Bolger have some nice chemistry and their characters have that nice defensiveness that ends up making the moment where they do come together at Phillip’s “grave” very sweet. ()()()()()()()

Wow! This was a great way to start the season off! Full disclosure: Since I binged Season 2 and 3 during my initial watch of the series and only rewatched a handful of episodes from it, I never really took much of a magnifying glass to the individual episodes, nor did I really form opinions on some of the characters, so seeing this episode rock as hard as it did made me so happy!!!

Thank you for reading and thanks to the fine folks @watchingfairytales for putting this project together! Next time, get hyped, because out of many come one-- oh excuse me-- two. See you then!

Season 2 Tally (10/220)

Writer Tally for Season 2: Adam Horowitz and Edward Kitsis: (10/60) Tags: ouat, once upon a time, watching fairytales, ouat episode code, ouat rewatch, jenna watches ouat, ships mentioned

Operation Rewatch Archives

[beanjuice-duh]

Night Suns

a/n: I can finally stop being a fake fan and indulge. (also to preface, my warmups are uneditted and unstructured compared to fuller pieces. Spell checks, topic structures are all to the wind, this is all freeform, free hand, on the spot writing that takes me about 10-20 minutes)

“Good work tonight, Will!” The theater head clapped his hand against Will’s shoulder and smiled. “Get some rest after, you deserve it! A packed house…” He sounded as though he was still in disbelief.

Will was too. He felt as though he was walking the fine line of a dream, in moments he’d wake up in his shitty cot, in the shitty inn owned by that woman who was just perfumed a little too much. Sleeping there stung his nose but alas it was his home for the moment. “G’night, good sir.” William smiled politely watching the man walk off with his hands in the air.

“Packed house!” He exclaimed again to the emptying streets of the night. Will felt the same but he contained his limbs to his side and allowed his mind the liberty of convincing him that this was in fact a reality. His dreams were real…as far and as fast as they came, he was alive and well in the midst of all his dreams and realities. In the seas of uncertain amity with theater he was…truly, alive.

Perhaps more the reason he did not want to return to his “home”. A bed, a period at the end of this fantastic sentence and William longed for more. The curtains were drawn and the stars were out, like the remaining lights casting down from the stage ceiling. William still felt the thrill of standing in the midst of it all.

In the quake of brilliance, a sharp gust of nightly wind ran up his spine and followed by a voice than ran through his temples. “Well, well, well if it isn’t the man of night? Waiting for a standing ovation?” Snark and sarcasm dripped from every syllable. “Or perhaps are you waiting for the curtain to raise again? The taste of fame left its mark on your flesh and like a hungry whore you’re standing along the sidelines of the street waiting for your next hit?”

Kit Marlowe tossed a blond curl behind his ear as he waltzed out with a bottle instead of his famed entourage of open ended lovers. Run on sentences of one night stands and fragmented hearts subjected to verb-less night’s absence of the subject. Marlowe was a genius but the kind Shakespeare never aspired to be. For the genius came with a curse, many assumed Kit made a deal with the devil.

He was brilliant, Will had no inclination to deny him that. When Kit wrote he wrote like he simply breathed it. He wrote pieces that were twisted enough to make people retch simply from thought. He wrote helplessly that would warm the coldest heart in the midst of war. He could make people feel whatever he wanted yet he, was emptied and it was almost transparent to William.

And only William.

He was lonesome, surrounded by fans, politicians, lovers…he was thirsty with every bottle he downed. He was restless no matter how much he slept. And he was depressed no matter how many times he laughed, smiled or fucked.

And Kit was good at one other thing other than writing. He was good at the game of temptation. “You know Will most people go out for a night cap after a great performance, why not join me?” Will rolled his eyes, predictable bait. Had he been a more clueless man, a more doe eyed traveler he would have fallen face first into Kit.

Heaven knows Will would have fallen face first for a man who held a pen like he did.

“I rather not” William kept his eyes away from those hungry pupils, laid deeply against the bags along his eyes. “I’m actually riding the high down from tonight, I’m sure sleep with will come for me soon and I will welcome her sweet embrace as should …” He turned his head to give Kit an authoritative look. His breath froze in his lungs as he caught notice that Marlowe had come closer to Will.

Closer than he had thought, so close that now Will was half amused how he didn’t sense him. How he didn’t feel his breath so close to his neck. He was bewildered but not completely thrown off, Marlowe moved like a ghost. An angry…hell driven ghost.

“’As should I’ you mean?” He tilted his head with a malicious smirk that made Shakespeare’s stomach quiver with illness. “Lecturing me Will? Are you worried about my wellbeing? Afraid your mentor won’t make it to your next project?”

“You know that isn’t why I care, I care because you’re my…”

“Your what, Will?” Kit circled around Will, it was harmless, there was a skip to his step but his eyes? Those eyes were narrowed like a big cat in the midst of a hunt.

“Friend, colleague, fellow human being who’s wellbeing is a reasonable concern for any other considerate human.”

“How infantile can you be if you believe humans ever are “just concerned” for another without no motive.” Marlowe rolled his eyes then stood directly in front of Will. Hands to his sides but Will felt on edge. Any moment he was going to move in and Will would flinch from his touch. He had to.

Fight the draw that was Marlowe. The darkness that wanted to swallow up every star in the sky. Not because he was the embodiment of darkness but because he was strong enough too. Kit was strong enough to pull the moon from its orbit. Strong enough to pluck stars from the sky like grapes and consume full flames whole. Lips that could part and entire oceans would follow suit.

“Maybe that’s why I like you.” Kit spoke softly, a strange and foreign somberness in his voice. It sounded almost…fragile. “There is still…a child’s spark in you…its not hidden in your manhood, you wear him proudly on your sleeve. Like a heart…kindness…” He mused, reaching out almost to touch him but his fingers barely stroked the space between them.

William felt it, as his eyes followed Kit’s hand and the first thought was ‘touch me’.

He felt the heat of anticipation kill him like lines waiting to be delivered. Will could spend hours rewriting this scene and each one would end with Marlowe having Shakespeare every way he wanted him. In anyway, and Will would not complain. He would not stop him. In Shakespeare’s play, Kit already had him.

In reality, Marlowe smirked, watching Shakespeare’s dazed gaze follow his hand. He could snap and break him out of his trance or worse, enchant him more and bring him home. However, Kit had a soft spot for the young, up and coming talent. A soft spot for his work, for his glee. “Be careful William.” Kit purred walking around Will, stopping short to brush shoulders with him. “You should run home to your sleep mistress, for the night is filled with troubled, restless souls that wouldn’t think twice of eating you whole…”

“Perhaps…I belong out with those wondering souls.” William argued back only to get a condescending chuckle.

“Trust me William, you don’t.” Kit was already walking off towards a silhouette of a man waiting for him down the cobblestoned street. A shadow that made William’s heart sank back to sickness and unease. “The sun has no place where the moon hides with her beasts.” Kit blew a kiss towards William. “What was that line I adored from your last draft?”

“”Parting is such sweet sorrow…’”

[peaches-of-1]

Demon AU: 666 So Fresh- Chapter 2

Type: Angst, fluff, romance

Taehyung (V), Yoongi (Suga), OC Zula

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of suicide

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It had taken all night and for the three strangers to get far enough for Yoongi’s comfort. She woke up near 10 am when her phone alarm went off. Her hand slapped it off without the rest of her knowing.

Zula bolted up, “Fuck, my paper’s due in two hours!” She then looked around and remembered everything.

Being demon spawn and a killer, she would probably never show up at school again. All that tuition down the drain. Her parents would kill her, but only one of them would be strong enough to actually do it. The one that was an actual demon.

“Sleep well?” Yoongi smirked.

“Y-yeah, I guess.” She shifted in her seat and looked behind her to see the other man fast asleep in the back seat. “So it was real.” She whispered to herself.

The driver snickered, “Taking you a while to realize that, huh, Demi?”

She glared at him, “Not every day you discover you’re half demon. Kind of hard to believe.” Her attention shifted to the window. “How much longer until we stop? I gotta piss.”

“Soon.” He said. “Almost outta gas.” pointing at the dash.

Zula made a sound in reply and then a loud noise came from the back. A sore Taehyung woke up with a roar and a stretch, hitting his head on the door.

“Ouch!”

The two in the front seat giggled.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” Her flute-like voice greeted him.

He smiled at her, “Morning. Aish, I gotta take a piss.”

“That’s what she just said.”

Taehyung met Zula’s eyes even as she tried to hide them away. He couldn’t help but thinking she was hella cute. He was kind of run over by a car last night, so he didn’t think much about actually looking at the people he was with.

“We’re getting close to an exit.” Yoongi said. “Don’t you dare pee in this car, or I’ll end you.”

They pulled up to a pretty small gas station in a pretty deserted town. They went inside to handle their business. Bathroom, gas, and snacks. Luckily, Zula’s rapist had left his wallet in this specific jacket that she had stolen. Wow, a thief and a killer. She really was a demon.

She wasn’t brave enough to use the credit card that was in there. Dude carried enough cash for a decent meal, so she stacked up on chips and gummies and sodas while the others got whatever they wanted. Zula opened the wallet to put the left over cash in and noticed his card was missing.

“Yeah, my boyfriend said it was ok to use it.” Yoongi said, flashing the credit card in the cashier’s face. He smirked knowing she wouldn’t dare cause a scene in a place like this.

“Whatever.” The gothic being said and ran it.

Safe.

Zula just went back into the car and left the door open as she opened the first bottle of root beer. The other man was already in the back eating as well. She wondered where he came from and why such a beautiful face decided to launch himself in front of a moving vehicle.

Yoongi handed Zula the card back. “Thanks.”

“No problem, douche.” She replied with a smile and snatching it back.

He chuckled and leaned on the car, opening a beer bottle. Being raised as a human, Zula knew that drinking and driving was bad. However, she didn’t know how many of those rules applied to Hell Spawn. Probably not.

She still didn’t even know their names. Taehyung was thinking the same thing and was itching to ask her. He didn’t want to get to know her, though, if he was never going to see her again. Yoongi threw his bottle in the trash.

“A demon who cares about the environment.” She snarked.

“We don’t need our second kingdom to be filthy, now do we?” He retorted. “I’m gonna check out the trunk. See what I’ve got.”

Singular. Tae thought. He wasn’t gonna let them tag along. He’d be thrown back into reality with nothing to do and no way to end his horrible life.

“Holy shit!” The brown-haired full demon exclaimed.

If something was enough to surprise him, then it was worth seeing. That’s what the two others decided as they rushed to go see what was up. In the trunk, there was a tan duffel bag overflowing with stacks of money. Based on the face...it was...

Zula gasped, “Holy...”

“Fuck” Taehyung finished.

Yoongi closed the trunk. They were all hundreds. They were rich! As an embodiment of greed, this was all that he had ever wanted. But these two kids knew about it, too.

The girls started hopping around and spinning. “We’re rich! We’re actually rich! I can pay off my tuition!” She was almost in tears. It must have been part of her wildest dreams to have so much money. Didn’t seem like she cared where it came from, either.

“You can’t kick us to the curb now. We know your face and your car, and your secret.”

Brown eyes flickered to the guy inside the gas station who was busy playing on their phone and didn’t seem to pay them any mind. Maybe they should die just in case. The girl stopped spinning and looked at him.

“We’ll report your to the police if you don’t take us with you. Do you know how easily it’ll be to convince them that you’re the one who tricked a poor innocent girl into killing some fratboy asshole?” Zula batted her eyes and pouted.

The kid tilted his head, “She’s got a point.”

He sighed, “Fine, fine, you can come with me!”

The girl rushed him with a hug and bounced, not knowing her own affect on him. Her squeals held more joy than any angel could ever muster.

“I’m so happy, I could kiss you!”

Yoongi smirked and raised his brows. She was legal, even for something his age. Then she backed up, releasing the strange demon man and looking around herself.

“But I won’t.” Zula said as she blushed.

The boy with the mullet had sat on the curb, “So, names?”

“Yoongi.” Their savior of sorts introduced himself. “Hell Spawn of Greed.”

“Zula.” She followed his lead. “Demi Spawn of Lust, I guess.”

“Taehyung. Call me Tae.” He stopped there.

They nodded and remembered the names of their new companions and decided to drive off before Human Hot Topic remembered they existed. First place they needed to go was to get new clothes. They asked Yoongi what exactly what powers they had. He had no idea. It differed from Spawn to Spawn.

All they knew for sure was Zula apparently could already access her true form which included claws and stuff. She described more of the attempted rape to get a better understanding. Also, Taehyung couldn’t die. Yoongi had a lot of things that he said they’d find out through being around him so much.

Rolling up to the mall, Zula had one more thing to ask.

“Last night you said that I was Hiding. What’s that?”

“You basically don’t exist. It’s a natural response when you don’t want to be seen, you just aren’t. That street last night was bustling with drunk couples and none of them saw you. It’s just to make sure no one, no human that is, knows what you are.”

Tae asked, “So we can’t control it?”

“Not one bit. At least, you two can’t. Not yet. You’ll learn though.”

As Zula started to get out of the car, Yoongi stopped her.

“Where the Hell do you think you’re going?”

“To the mall? I need to get new clothes, Yoongi. Tae, tell him.” She looked towards her attractive companion for back up.

Yoongi shot him a glare, “She’s covered in blood.”

She sighed, “Fine.” In the middle of the parking lot, she took off her bloodstained top and skirt, revealing shorts underneath. “Blood’s only on the inside of the jacket now, and I’m still clothed enough to be seen in public.”

“Barely.” Tae said, biting his lips and looking her up and down.

Yoongi did the same and laughed, “Yep, your parent came from Lust. No doubt in my mind. Let’s go then.”

The three walked into the place like they owned it in order as to not be seen as suspicious since they were carrying nearly $1,000 each. Yoongi got several new blazers and tons of jeans and hats. Tae got scarves, over-sized dress shirts, and a really expensive camera. Zula bought some blazers and several pairs of shoes. A few formals dresses just in case.

She turned around, wavy black hair fanning slightly as she met his dark brown eyes that seemed to glitter.

“Zula, Come with me to put the clothes in the car. He doesn’t trust me with the keys by myself.”

Her eyes turned to Yoongi who gave a shrug. He wasn’t a flight risk, per say, just a bit. Yeah.

“Yeah, I’ll come with you, Tae.”

The other one bought some more things. Apparently, the money was good since no cops or guards had shown up yet. The handsome cashier tried to make conversation about what they were up to. He said he was helping his little brother impress a girl, so they brought her along for a shopping trip.

Said he was using money from his new promotion at some company in the US that she’d probably never heard of. She bought it. And it wasn’t completely a lie. Yoongi had been part of a US company before he scammed them all out of their money and moved back to South Korea.

That was his last big take that lasted him a good while. Yoongi decided to go put his stuff in the car as well. He he had given them enough time.

Tae told her. Everything. How many times he’s tried based on the lipstick stains on the wall. When he started. How he wasn’t sure if he wanted to stop. He lit a cigarette.

“I’m just not sure there’s anything I wanna live for, and just existing sucks. So the only other option is death, right?” He turned to see tears running down her face and was confused at the pain it caused in his chest. Not a pain he had felt before.

Zula wiped her eyes, “I’m sorry. I just. That’s so sad.” She held his hands. “Please find something to live for, Tae. Even if it’s superficial like money or whatever, maybe adventure. This adventure. Find it.”

He was confused. No one had been so passionate towards him in a while, at least not in a kind way. Usually, they were just yells and screams about how he could’ve done better. Blaming him for what he was born as. His parents fought a lot, and he now understood why.

“Would you miss me? If one day I succeeded, would you miss me?”

She bit her lip, looked away and then stared into his eyes, “Yes. I would. I don’t know you that well, but we’re stuck like this for a reason. So yeah, I’d miss you.”

A loud voice surprised and embarrassed them for some reason, “Just fuck already!”

The two parted and didn’t look at each other. They weren’t that close and that wasn’t what they wanted...right? At least, not, not yet.

“So, are we going back inside? I think there might be a few more things--”

“Nah, let’s go somewhere else.” Yoongi cut him off. “I think we need party clothing and bathing suits, and I know a demon who has it for free.”

So they all climbed back in the car.

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[writing-yj]

Kid Flash x Reader: Real to Me

Anon: CONGRATULATIONS ON 300 FOLLOWERS YAY I’m so happy for you. I feel like it was literally a week ago when you hit 100 followers I’m so glad your writing has grown in popularity, you really deserve it <3 <3 For the 300 followers writing prompt could I pretty please get s1 Wally prompt 25’ “We’re supposed to look like a couple, act like it!” paired with prompt 39, “I’m in love with you and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it”. Thank you so much <3

25: “We’re supposed to look like a couple; act like it!”

39: “I’m in love with you and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it.”

Word Count: 1726

Warnings: Kissing, that’s about it. Kissing scenes are so awkward to write, just going to throw that out there.

A/n:*cracks knuckles* Alrighty kids, let’s see how this turns out. I’m sorry that it’s so short, I did my best!

You groaned and briefly rubbed your temples. “Please remind me why we have to do this for the mission today? I have the worst headache ever.”

“Aw, you’ll be okay, sweetheart,” Wally used a sickeningly sweet and lovey voice. “Do you want me to kiss it better?” He winked at you and you grumbled.

You put your hands down by your sides and reluctantly leaned forward a couple inches. Fake dating didn’t sound so difficult until you actually got out in public. The last relationship you had didn’t end well and you hadn’t gone on any dates since.

Wally happily gave you a big smooch on your forehead. “Mwah!” He was really milking it, and it was a breeze for him. Dating you was already a plan he wanted to put in motion, but this made it a lot easier for him. Wally noticed your frown and whispered, “We’re supposed to look like a couple; act like it! You’re making it hard to sell it!” 

You grunted in response, but you relaxed your shoulders a bit. You didn’t show it, but you were actually very happy to be on this mission. It probably would have been easier to express if you didn’t have the jitters around the speedster and a raging headache. “Care to give any pointers?”

“Well you could crack a smile, for one,” Wally chirped and you rolled your eyes. “Look and happy and willing when I give you loving smooches,” He chuckled when you glared at him. “And accept and initiate any and all forms of PDA.”

You stared straight into his green eyes, somehow managing to not get lost in them, with an eyebrow raised. "Wouldn't that be over selling it? We still have to observe suspects.”

“Don’t worry darling! I have that part covered. Now, aside from working on your terrible acting skills, here’s the plan...”

You swore that Wally could hear your pounding heart beat; you knew you could even without your super hearing. He grabbed your hand a few short moments ago, and it took several reminders from him to look natural and not like a stone statue. In reality, holding Wally’s hand had you jumping for joy inside. The mission gave you the ability to be affection towards him without suspicion or giving anyone the idea that you were crushing on him.

“Wally, where are we going now?” You asked bluntly and you looked up at him. Wally didn’t exactly tower over you, but he was noticeably taller.

He sat down at the nearest park bench, pulling you with him and you squeaked at the surprising action. Wally smoothly wrapped his arm around your shoulder with you leaning on him ‘lovingly’. “Our guy is over there, can you see him?” He subtly gestured to the man at the corner. “Can you do your boyfriend a favor and listen in on his conversation?”

Your heart jumped when Wally called himself your boyfriend, but you did as he asked. You concentrated, but it was too noticeable; Wally had to do something. So, without any hesitation or regrets, he kissed your cheek and nuzzled you happily. It briefly broke your concentration, and made you blush, but you got back on track and the intimate action made it look natural.

“His rendezvous point is on the other side of town, either we go there or get Robin and Superboy to do it so we can keep a look out for any of his friends.” You said and you turned to look at Wally with your cheeks absolutely burning.

Wally replied all to quickly. “I’ll message Robin; they’re probably closer anyway,” He then grinned. “I guess we’ll have to be a couple a little while longer. Not that I’m complaining.”

You just looked away from him, but relaxed against him. “If it makes you feel better... I’m not complaining either...” You said quietly, but loud enough for him to hear you.

“That’s great to hear, babe. I’d love to sit like this for the rest of the mission, but alas, we still have some investigating to do.” Wally’s stomach had butterflies and he stood up. He held your hand as you got up and wrapped an arm around your waist. “Shall we?”

“We shall...?” It sounded more like a question than a statement, but you walked with him anyway. You gave him a shy peck on his cheek, and the happy smile he gave you was worth it.

“I knew you’d come around.” Wally chuckled at your blush. “Your blush is adorable, by the way.”

“I try.” You tried to brush off your embarrassment, but your blush didn’t go away. “Where to, Wallace?”

He gave you the side eye and grumbled, “Don’t call me that...” He kept glaring, but he couldn’t do it for long. Wally sighed and smiled again. “I guess we can check the area a couple blocks down; it seems like a popular place for suspicious activity.”

You gave him an amused look. “Because you often look for ‘suspicious activity.’“

Wally scoffed. “Hush, you! Now follow me; we have suspects to find!”

“Whatever you say, babe.”

You sprinted down the side walk and weaved through the occasional crowd of people. “You just had to make them notice us, didn’t you!?” You growled at Wally. They had seen you two eavesdropping, and that is often frowned upon, especially when it comes to talking about something very illegal.

He wasn’t using his super speed (he was out of costume any way) because you definitely weren’t going to be able to keep up. “Oh I’m sorry princess, I was trying to get a better look!”

“At them or my ass!? You seem to have been doing that a lot today!” You said. Wally thought you didn’t notice, but you did after the first two times. You waited until now to call him out on it.

“The first one, but the latter has been just as satisfactory- oof!” 

You rolled your eyes and jabbed him as you ran. You heard their thundering steps behind you and the surprised grunts and cries from innocent bystanders. “We’re going to get in trouble for this!” You hissed at him.

Wally protested earnestly. “Hey! You’ve never minded getting in trouble before! I remember you enjoying it!” It was true; getting yourself into trouble on the streets was something you found exhilarating.

You skidded around the corner and jumped over picnic tables and benches with ease. You and Wally were starting to lose them, but it wasn’t going to last long. It all was going so well; at no point in time did it look like you were going to be caught. No more being a couple, but that was going to happen anyway. Right back to being just friends again.

Suddenly, you grabbed Wally’s wrist and yanked him around another corner, sitting on the picnic table with you forced into his lap. It took a hell of a lot of courage to keep going, but you made it.

“What are you-”

“Trust me!” You exclaimed. “PDA makes people uncomfortable, just roll with it!” Before Wally could ask another question, you pulled him in for a searing kiss. It was something you both wanted to do all day, so both of you were content with this action.

His lips eagerly moved against yours and his eyes closed in bliss. He put one hand on your soft cheek and his other hand stroked your hair. You slung your arms around his shoulders and sighed dreamily. It wasn’t an act anymore. Neither of you wanted to stop.

Wally separated from you and put his forehead on yours. “I’m pretty sure they’re gone now, babe.” He smirked, making you giggle. “Where’d that plan come from?”

“W-Well, I uh, I thought it would be a good cover since people normally feel uncomfortable around PDA and I-...” You blushed and looked away.

“And... what?” Wally’s smirk didn’t go away. “I’m curious.”

You muttered something about being embarrassed, but you reluctantly decided to come clean. “I’m not absolutely one hundred percent positive, but I’m in love with you and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it.” The words came out in a rush and you didn’t want to repeat them.

Luckily, you didn’t have to. Wally made you look at you and he gave you another passionate kiss, even better than the first one. He weaved a hand into your hair and lightly bit your lip. “Does that convince you that I feel the same?” For the first time that day, his cheeks were taken over by a light pink blush.

“I don’t know,” You grinned slyly. “I think it’ll take more than just that to fully convince me.” You were being uncharacteristically bold, but it wasn’t a bad thing.

You phone started ringing with an obnoxious ringtone, specifically Robin’s ringtone. You whipped out your cell and answered it kindly. “Nice to hear from you Robin, how can I help you?”

“If you’re done gum-swapping, feel free to meet us at the rendezvous point. We’ve got what we need, and you two seem to have gotten what you wanted.”

You were unable due to a brief period of stuttering, but Wally grabbed the phone and snarked, “For your information Robin, neither of us have gum and I don’t exactly see you getting any action. Uh huh! That’s what I thought, short-stack!”

They bantered for a good two minutes, and you just sat back and laughed. What at first seemed like a mission with a fake relationship was now not only a mission success, but resulted in a relationship that would last a lifetime.

“Calm down, girls, you’re both pretty. We’ll see you in a bit, Robin!” You said into your phone and you hung up after taking it back from Wally.

“Or will we?” Wally wiggled his eyebrows.

You got off his lap and shook your head. “Yes, we will. You can have your fun later, alright?”

“I’m holding you to that! Don’t forget it!”

Feel free to put me in the cone of shame; this is definitely not my best work.

[sachigram]

Infinity, With Coffee Rings Chapter 2

Click here to read on ao3!

The coffeehouse is quiet so early in the morning. Tweek actually enjoys it and always has, despite the fact he's technically working. There's something special about the late night and the early morning hours. When the rest of the world is asleep, there's no one to impress or hide from. Tweek is alone with the coffee, his most favorite audience.

Only a few customers trickle in, doctors from Hells Pass, fast food workers off to open their stores. Tweek wonders what it would be like to have another job sometimes, but he knows better than to think anyone else would actually ever hire him. All it would take for his applications to be thrown out would be his medical history, and then he knows the employers would go running for the hills if they had any sense.

“Whoa—dude!”

Tweek looks up from the counter to see Kyle Broflovski in the doorway, though it's hard to recognize him without the ushanka on his head. Then again, Craig wasn't wearing his chullo, so Tweek supposes he's going to have to rethink normalcy.

Kyle bounds for the counter, startling Tweek, who finds himself being hugged tightly for the second time in twenty-four hours by an old childhood friend.

“This is crazy! I never thought I'd see you again!” Kyle says. Tweek snorts incredulously.

“I guess I wasn't really aware I was so popular back then,” Tweek mutters, patting Kyle awkwardly on the back.

“Well—yeah we were kind of jerks as kids.” Kyle pulls back with a smile. They weren't really friends. Tweek hung out with Kyle's group of friends off and on, and he remembers being picked on mercilessly, even worse than he was picked on when he hung out with Craig's group. Tweek remembers Craig punching Cartman in the face once for cornering Tweek and trying to make him eat dirt. Kyle had found the punching hilarious.

Kyle is a little taller than Tweek, eyes still bright green and hair still wild and red. Tweek can tell Kyle puts a lot of work into his hair now, probably expensive work.

“It's pretty early. Do you work at the hospital too?” Tweek asks.

“Oh, no, I work in private practice,” Kyle says.

“But you're a doctor?”

“No, I'm a child counselor.” Kyle grins, and Tweek finds himself thinking that Kyle grew up to be cute. “I'd love to be a doctor, but that'd be four more years of school.”

Tweek notices the ring on Kyle's finger.

“You're married?”

“You remember Stan, right?”

Tweek's eyes nearly pop out of his head.

“You and Stan?! I mean—wow. Wow. Congratulations! It's just—fuck, I'm really bad with words, if you remember, so...”

“Hey, it's okay,” Kyle says. “Just slow down and say how you feel.”

Tweek recognizes therapy when he hears it. He shoots Kyle a glare, then feels bad about it.

“It's just like an alien planet, man. This place was supposed to stay the same. Nothing ever changes here, except things did change. It's like that 'you can't go home again' feeling but I never thought that shit was real,” Tweek says.

“Life happens fast, dude,” Kyle agrees, and Tweek is grateful he's dropped the counselor talk.

“So, uh, how long? Were you guys together when we were kids? Did I miss that?” Tweek asks.

Kyle laughs. “God, no. It didn't happen until we were teenagers. We've been together thirteen years, now, married for three.”

“Jesus.”

“Tell me about it. Stan would be super happy to see you, too,” Kyle says.

“He would?”

“Stan loves everyone.” Kyle grins fondly as he says so.

Tweek takes Kyle's order and is busy making it while Kyle chatters in the background about some other people Tweek's been curious about. Butters supposedly railed against his parents after high school and ran off with Kenny, though they recently moved back at Kenny's insistence. Kyle talks about Kenny's supposed “spiritual marriage” with South Park with a tiny scowl on his face, and Tweek wonders how many times Kyle's tried to convince Kenny there's no such thing to no avail. Kyle always did get pissy when no one saw his logic as the right answer. Tweek is so busy thinking this he almost doesn't hear what Kyle just said. Almost.

“WHAT! Cartman and...and Wendy?!”

“Yeah, that was Stan's reaction, too,” Kyle says.

“Holy... How is that even possible? Wendy isn't... Did she get stupid when I was away?”

“Ha! Sorry it's just that she was Valedictorian and she makes these snide little comments about it sometimes because she beat me for it. She's good at everything but dating, I guess. Cartman's calmed down a lot since he finally landed her, though. Really he needs someone who isn't gonna take his shit, and she fits the bill,” Kyle says.

“God. None of that makes any sense. None of any of this does, dude. Cartman was a fucking—ugh. And Clyde has cancer and I had a fucking dinner party with him and Bebe and Craig—“

“Craig Tucker?” Kyle asks. “He's in town?”

“Yeah, he was here yesterday. And he was nice to me. I mean I guess he was never mean to me before but he didn't like, smile and shit. He wasn't like that before. He didn't care about anything when we were kids except his guinea pig and cartoons.” Tweek runs a hand through his already disarrayed hair. “I'm in fucking—Chinatown. I can't process any of this.”

“Craig's still a dick. He sent Stan and I a collection of dildos for our wedding present with a card that just said 'Take it Jew'.”

Tweek barks out a laugh, then feels a little bad about it. Kyle just smiles though.

“Yeah, so see? Some things are still the same.”

Kyle gives his number to Tweek and then hurries out of the shop to work, leaving Tweek alone with the coffee again. He's busy stacking sugar packets into a tower when Craig stumbles into the shop looking like death itself.

“You look rough,” Tweek comments.

“Yeah. I feel like shit,” Craig says. He strides to the counter and leans against it, glaring at the menu.

“Are you sick? Dude—you shouldn't be here if you're sick. I could catch it. I hate being sick! Argh—I'll have to take more pills than I already do! That's a lot of pills!” Tweek is already counting in his head.

“Chill. It's sleep deprivation. Clyde's couch is lumpy and I don't think I slept at all last night.” Craig's still reading the menu. He squints his eyes. “Is it unhealthy to just drink straight espresso? In a large cup?”

“It's probably not healthy. Not like I'm a health expert. I think I read that you'd have to drink a lot of coffee for it to kill you though but sometimes those reports aren't accurate. I could just pull some shots for you and see if it helps.”

“Sure, why the fuck not,” Craig says.

They're in a companionable silence for a bit. Tweek takes his time readying shots for Craig, who downs them with an awful expression. Craig is on his third when he holds his hand up.

“Okay, no. First of all, this is disgusting. Secondly, I don't feel awake. I feel like I'm vibrating.”

“That's a step up from sleeping,” Tweek says with a grin.

“You're the worst. You peddle me this garbage in a tiny cup and say it'll help just to watch me suffer.” Craig gives him a stern look. “You aren't even sympathetic to my zombie state.”

“Not really. I never sleep and you don't hear me complaining.”

“Smartass.”

Tweek smiles innocently. “Guess who came in earlier.”

“I can't believe anyone ever comes in here,” Craig snarks.

“Ha. You're here. And you were here yesterday, too, okay, so you can shut up,” Tweek says, making Craig grin. “Kyle was here today.”

“Gross.”

“He told me about his marriage and stuff.”

“Extra gross.”

“And apparently you gave him dildos for a present because you're an awful person.”

“It seemed like the most useful thing. Broflovski has a stick up his ass, but I'm sure something else would fit up there with enough effort. And Marsh is dickless, so.”

Tweek laughs. “That's awful! You're awful!”

“I'm right, though.” Craig grins again, and Tweek thinks if Kyle grew up to be cute, another adjective fits Craig entirely. Handsome, maybe? Would gorgeous be offensive to another guy? Probably. Tweek offends people easily without meaning to, since it's easier to blurt everything out than to process it first.

Has Tweek ever found another man gorgeous before? Honestly, he can't remember ever thinking anyone was, gender aside. Craig definitely is though, with his black hair and light blue eyes. He always looks either bored or up to something, which also describes Craig very well actually.

“Is Cartman still fat?” Tweek asks suddenly, thinking about it.

“Probably. I try not to see him. Or anyone, really, aside from a handful of people in this town,” Craig says, shrugging.

“Am I—I mean, I guess I am in the handful, right? Since you're here.”

“Clearly.”

Tweek smiles down at the counter.

“Do you ever think about alternate realities?” he asks, blurting again.

“Frequently,” Craig says without a moment's pause.

“Okay, so like, do you think the old South Park fell into a black hole or something and was replaced with a new one? Or—or maybe I was? Oh, God!” Tweek grabs at his hair and pulls. It's a bad habit he's been working on breaking.

“What makes you ask?” Craig asks, still calm. He frowns and smacks Tweek's hands out of his hair. “Stop that. Clyde's bald enough for you both without you pulling your hair out.”

“Just...everything changed? And Kyle said some stuff that was true, I mean, life does happen fast but to think of things changing here? Am I the only one who thinks this place is in some kind of void where things should always stay the same?”

“You aren't the only one. Things did stay the same, to me. I guess it's just because you weren't here while things were changing, so you came back to everything being different than it was.” Craig starts messing with the sugar packet tower Tweek was making before.

“I guess. Well. You left, too. Do you ever feel this way?” Tweek asks.

“Kind of, but I guess it doesn't get to me because I hear firsthand from Clyde and Token about any changes in their lives. I don't really come back and get surprised. But this time I did, since you were suddenly here.”

“Surprises are good sometimes. One of my therapists said that to me—hey. Hey!” Tweek squawks as Craig knocks over his looming tower of sugar packets. “I had those color coordinated!”

“Sorry. Hey, when can you leave?” Craig asks, clearly not sorry at all.

“Whenever my dad gets here. He likes to sleep in now that I can watch the store in the mornings. He doesn't like getting up early,” Tweek explains.

“Cool, so around lunchtime?”

“Yeah, did you want to go somewhere?”

“You're upset,” Craig says simply. “I have things I like to do when I'm upset.”

About an hour later, Tweek's dad comes in. He smiles at Craig and pats Tweek on the shoulder, looking as serene as he always does after he takes his morning medication.

“Hello, boys. It's a wonderful day today,” he says.

“Dad, do you mind if I go somewhere with Craig?” Tweek asks.

“Mm. Where is this 'somewhere'?”

“The pet store,” Craig says before Tweek can answer.

“Oh. That's fine. Just don't bring anything home, Tweek. You know what your mother would say.”

Tweek's climbing in the passenger seat of Craig's car when Craig speaks again, so he almost misses it.

“Huh?” he asks.

“I said why can't you bring anything home? Your parents don't like pets?”

“Oh. Well, I'm not supposed to have anything to take care of. My parents think I'm...not ready for that,” Tweek says glumly. He hates having to admit things like that, but it's easier to tell the truth than to have to keep track of a lie.

Craig's jaw is set as he starts his car and pulls out of the parking lot.

“So they just decided that? Your doctors never said you couldn't have a pet?”

“A couple of my doctors thought it'd be good for me to have...you know, like a fish or something small. My parents were always against it though. They don't really think I can even take care of myself, much less a defenseless animal.”

“That's really—uh,” Craig pauses. “That's super shitty. That's what they think your limitations are, but have you tried testing your own?”

“No,” Tweek says quietly. Craig looks over at him.

“I'm not saying you have to. You should, though. No one knows what you can do better than you.”

“I feel like I'd kill something. Or hurt it. I don't want to have that on my shoulders,” Tweek says.

“Do you remember to brush your teeth and shit like that?” Craig asks, and Tweek nods confusedly. “Okay, well it's the same thing. You brush your teeth in the morning and then you give the fish some fish flakes. It's like a routine. And fish die sometimes but that doesn't always mean it's anyone's fault.”

“Do you have a pet?” Tweek asks to get the focus off himself.

“Nope. I'm hardly ever home, and when I am home, I'm asleep. I could get a fish, though. They're pretty low maintenance.”

“I'm surprised you don't have a guinea pig,” Tweek says.

“I had one. He died,” Craig says.

“Recently?”

“A couple years ago. I didn't buy him, someone gave him to me. He died pretty young. Do you remember Stripe?”

Tweek smiles at the name of Craig's old beloved guinea pig. He nods.

“Yeah, he lived to be nine. That's older than they usually get. I haven't bought one since he died. There won't ever be another one like him, you know?”

The rest of the ride is spent in silence, aside from Craig's music, which is some kind of heavy metal music Tweek doesn't listen to. He snorts when they actually pull into the pet store parking lot.

“I wasn't sure if you were serious,” he admits.

“I'm always serious,” Craig says. “Unless I'm not,” he adds, waggling his eyebrows.

They journey through the cold into the warmth of the store. Tweek's never been to a pet store before, since he always knew he wasn't supposed to have one. He sees bird cages as soon as they enter, but Craig pulls him to the side, towards some glass containers where there are mice, hamsters, and—of course, guinea pigs.

“See, look? Don't you feel better already? De-stressed? I know I do,” Craig says.

“They're cute,” Tweek admits. A tiny black one catches his eye. It has a cute twitching nose, and it doesn't take its eyes off Tweek.

“That one likes you,” Craig comments as Tweek moves his finger along the outside of the glass just to have the little ball of fluff chase after it.

“Yeah, it's so...” Tweek's eyes fill with tears. “It's so little. I think I'm gonna cry, just 'cause it's so cute.”

“Hang on,” Craig says. He shuffles away and leaves Tweek to play with the guinea pig for a moment. He comes back with an employee Tweek recognizes.

“Well, hey there, Tweek!” Butters says jovially. He pulls Tweek into a hug, and Tweek is starting to think he'd better get used to this. “I almost didn't believe Craig when he said you were here! How have you been, buddy?”

“Good,” Tweek says, his eyebrows raised. “I'm just, you know. Here.”

“I'm here, too! Craig said you wanted to hold one of the guinea pigs?”

“What? No! I can't hold one! I'll drop it!” Tweek practically shouts.

“He wants to hold it. I'll supervise and make sure he doesn't drop it,” Craig says.

“Okay, good. We have to be careful about who we let hold things around here. Kids like to be mean sometimes!” Butters starts to open the cage, and Tweek seriously considers running for it. “Which one of the little fellas did you wanna hold?”

“The black one,” Craig answers.

“Oh yeah, I've been callin' him Midnight!” Butters scoops the little guy up and holds him out to Tweek, who twitches.

“I—I can't, man! That's too much! I'll hurt it!”

“Hand him here, Butters,” Craig instructs. He takes the little guinea pig and pets him gently before holding him out to Tweek.

“Craig, I can't,” Tweek says.

“You can do it. Come on, trust yourself a little. You won't hurt him.”

Nervously, Tweek lets the little fluff ball drop into his hands. He quickly pulls it to his chest and cradles it, staring down at it with wide eyes.

“Is it a boy?” he asks.

“Yep!” Butters says. “He's about three months old!”

Tweek pets him carefully, and feels emotional again as the guinea pig twitches its nose and whiskers at him.

“He twitches like I do,” he says softly. He doesn't pay attention to Craig's and Butters's conversation as he plays with the guinea pig, who really does seem to enjoy being held.

“Well,” Craig says after a few minutes. “He's yours, if you want him.”

“Huh?” Tweek asks lamely.

“I'll get him for you. It'll be good for you to have a pet, and I can tell you love him already. He can stay in your room.”

“I... My parents would kill me. And what if I forget to take care of him? Or...” Tweek starts.

“I'll personally text you every day to remind you if that's what it takes. Just buy him food and clean up after him and your parents won't even really know he's in your room.”

“I can give you guys a discount!” Butters says happily. “You should get him, Tweek, he likes you! Better you buy him than some little kid who really doesn't wanna take care of him.”

Tweek thinks of the poor guinea pig being ignored by a snot nosed kid and he finds himself nodding his head.

Somehow he ends up back in Craig's car with a new guinea pig, a giant cage, some food, and some other supplies. He feels overwhelmed as he holds the little box carefully in his lap.

“You really didn't have to spend all that money,” he says.

“It wasn't that much,” Craig says, though it was over one-hundred dollars. “I'll just live vicariously through you since I'm not home enough to have my own.”

“He'll be okay while I'm working, right?” Tweek asks worriedly.

“Yeah, he'll be fine. Are you changing his name?” Craig asks.

“I don't really like Midnight,” Tweek admits. “I think he needs a cooler name.” Tweek thinks about it for a minute. “What about Espresso?”

“You would name him after coffee,” Craig says. “Yeah, I like it. Espresso did wake me up today, a little. It's worthy.”

Luckily, both Tweek's parents must be at the shop, because the house is empty. Craig helps him carry everything upstairs to his room, and then puts the cage together while Tweek holds Espresso, still marveling at the fact he has a pet now. A pet that likes him.

“Is Clyde working today?” Tweek asks, wondering why Craig wants to spend time with him when he came to see Clyde.

“Yeah, till five. He only works part time, so I wasn't gonna ask him to take the weekend off. I knew I'd have something to do.”

“Do you think I offended him yesterday? About the, uh, phallic head comment?” Tweek asks guiltily.

“Definitely.”

“Oh, no!”

“Relax, Clyde gets offended about everything,” Craig says with a smirk. “Did you forget he's a crybaby? Trust me, you can't offend him more than I usually do. He's already over it.”

“It was still insensitive of me. I have a bad habit of blurting things out. It's just...so sad he's got cancer. Poor Clyde... I can't imagine.”

“He's gonna be okay,” Craig says, his voice soft. Tweek notices the change in Craig's expression, and he knows to change the subject.

“Well, good for me and Espresso you're here this weekend! Now he gets to have a home,” Tweek says, petting Espresso, who he's letting roam around the bed while keeping a close eye on him.

“I never noticed how rodent-like you were until I saw you next to one,” Craig says. “They say people look like their pets, but this is a whole new level.”

“I'm not rodent-like!” Tweek huffs.

“Small, twitchy, easily frightened. Totally rodent-like.”

Tweek grumbles and wills Espresso to leap off the bed at Craig's face, but it doesn't happen.

When the cage is done, Tweek puts Espresso inside it and readies his food and water. It's easy enough, and Tweek thinks it should be simple to incorporate it into his daily routine, like Craig said.

“You promise you'll remind me every day?” he asks.

“I won't have to, but I promise,” Craig says.

They hang out and play with Espresso until a little after four. Craig says he has to go pick up Clyde from work and spend quality bro time with him, which Tweek understands. Tweek really wants to stay with Espresso and make sure he gets settled in anyway. Also he wants to make sure his parents don't find Espresso on their own and freak out.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” Craig says, and Tweek blinks dumbly up at him.

“You want to hang out again tomorrow?”

“Clearly you don't recognize how friendship works,” Craig says. “I just bought you a guinea pig. I've bought your affection. So tomorrow you have to hang out with me and Clyde again.”

“Oh my god, fine. My affection isn't cheap, though! It'll cost more than a guinea pig!” Tweek teases, then he blushes. Did he just flirt? Was that flirting?

“Be off tomorrow,” is all Craig says before he leaves.

Tweek has a hard time explaining the new guinea pig and an even harder time convincing his parents to let him off the next day, but they relent when Tweek tells them Craig is leaving and won't be back for a while. He hurriedly picks at his dinner and then goes back upstairs with Espresso, who seems to be making himself quite at home.

Tweek spends the rest of the evening writing in his journal, one of his many coping mechanisms. He fills three pages with his worry over his new pet, and also his excitement over doing something he was always told he shouldn't do. It feels liberating, in a way. He wants to do his best to take care of Espresso, and he doesn't want to let Craig down, either. No one has ever believed in him before. It's something he doesn't want to lose.

The next morning he finds himself in the backseat of Craig's car. Craig still looks like he hasn't slept, and Clyde is eating a fast food sausage and cheese biscuit blissfully like it's the best food he's ever had.

“So where are we going?” Tweek asks.

“To see a movie,” Craig says.

“It's not scary, right?”

“Clyde is with us,” Craig scoffs. “Clyde can't watch scary movies.”

“Fuck you!” Clyde says. “I can watch them. I just think they're stupid.”

“He'll cry. It's best to avoid the headache.”

They end up watching some comedy that has Tweek laughing loudly, and he'd be embarrassed, but everyone else is laughing too. They don't notice him, and Tweek finds himself thinking it's so nice just to blend in, even if it's in the darkness of a movie theater. He shares popcorn and Skittles with Craig, and Clyde has what seems to be a lap full of candy on Craig's other side.

“I just feel bad for him since he never gets to have junk food at home,” Craig had said at the concession. Tweek thinks it's probably good for Clyde to have some calories, since he's gotten pretty thin.

By the time they're walking through the parking lot back to Craig's car, Tweek has forgotten Craig is leaving soon. That is, until Clyde mentions it.

“You could hang out a little longer. Leave after dark. You'll be up all night anyway.”

“I won't. I'm planning on crashing since your lumpy ass couch didn't let me sleep at all this weekend,” Craig says. “Besides, I've gotta do laundry and shit. Tomorrow starts a long week.”

“Feels like you just got here,” Clyde mumbles petulantly.

“Well, I'll be back soon enough. Try not to eat too much candy while I'm gone or Bebe will blame me.”

They drop Clyde off first, since he's the closest. Clyde gives Craig a tight hug that makes Tweek's ribs hurt in sympathy, and then they're driving back to Tweek's house.

“I forgot you had to leave today,” Tweek says.

“You gonna miss me?” Craig asks.

“Yes,” Tweek says without pause. “You're easy to get used to.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

“It is one!”

Craig pulls in front of Tweek's house and puts the car in park.

“Ugh, my dad's gonna ask me to work the night shift. I know he is. Oh well. I guess I should play with Espresso while I can.” Tweek looks over at Craig. “Be careful, okay?”

“I'll text you when I get back,” Craig says. “You aren't planning on leaving town before I come back, are you?”

“No. I promise. And even if I did, you have my number.”

“I'll probably text you a lot,” Craig says, nodding to himself, and Tweek doesn't bother asking why. “You'd better respond.”

“I will!”

“And send me pictures of Espresso.”

Tweek laughs. “I will!”

“I want updates on every thought in his guinea pig brain,” Craig says seriously.

“Okay, okay! I promise!” Tweek says, laughing harder. He stops when he notices Craig looking at him with a strange expression on is face. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Craig says quickly. “I'd better go. But first.” He leans over the glove box and pulls Tweek into a hug. Craig smells like cigarettes and movie theater popcorn. Tweek leans into him and hugs him back. It's the easiest hug he's had to return.

“Take care of yourself. And Clyde, if he needs it,” Craig murmurs. He pulls back and the strange expression is gone, replaced with his usual neutral one. “And don't hang out with Kyle or Stan too much. They'll turn you into a douche.”

“I guess your only option is to come back soon and make sure I'm not their new BFF,” Tweek says, and Craig snorts.

“You are such a smartass. Fine. I'll be back before you know it.”

Tweek exits the car and walks up to his front door before he turns around and waves to Craig, who waves back before driving off. Tweek sighs and goes inside. He's climbing the stairs to his room when his phone buzzes in his pocket. It's from Craig.

I missed you Tweek

Tweek manages to type back that Craig shouldn't be texting while behind the wheel after he gets done blushing and smiling like a loon.

[mavmax]

The Re-Encounter | Maverick & Nicole

When: May 8th, 2021

Where: Somewhere in between Sunset Park and Pico District

About: Mav and Nicole have their grand re-encounter after 8 years...and let’s just say it was the catalyst of Pride’s most infamous fight. 

Featuring: @nicolevondra

Maverick had spent time in the library furiously studying for his finals when he realized it was starting to get late and he should definitely head on home. He had stopped by Giji’s to grab a bite and began making his way out when he nearly knocked into someone. He apologized and then realized, just who he had knocked into. “Oh, hey, sorry, didn’t see you there,” He offered with a polite smile. Hopefully the talk would be brief and both of them could go on their merry way.

nicole vondra.

Nicole was pretty happy with how her business was going, she was also excited to see how much it will thrive, but the other part of her missed London, missed not knowing anyone from Santa Monica. But now she was back, the accent she used slowly disappeared due to the automatic response of American. Although her brother seems to hold it rather well. The blonde adjusted the flowers in one arm and her phone in the other when she felt the compact of knocking into someone, her eyes dart up to see the familiar face that had her adjust her posture. “Right...maybe you should look at your surroundings.” Nicole commented, her heart still thumping against her chest which taken her by surprise, she thought that feeling went away after the dinner incident.

Maverick was definitely aware now that this wasn’t a fever dream and that he did knock into Nikki at La Playa and had a seemingly normal conversation while tipsy. Of course now, they were sober, and tensions ran higher than ever. But he wasn’t going to let that faze him. It was a long time ago after all, so he decided to lighten up the mood. “I may be vigilant but I’m always knocking into something,” He teased. “Wow, so it’s actually not some drunken fever dream that you and Nick are back, huh?”

nicole vondra.

Nicole pressed her lips together before signing, “no...it’s not a feverish dream. Nick and I are actually back and probably for good.” The blonde responded, as much as she wanted to return back to the place she called home for eight years was now nothing but a feverish dream. “Although I was hoping to run into for awhile...apparently that doesn’t help.”

Maverick nodded slowly in understanding. He was beginning to think it was time to meet with an old friend about what the next move was to be with the Vondra twins. That would be a wild ride bringing up eight years of repressed trauma. “Ah, well you and me both, but Santa Monica being a pretty small beach town and all, paths are just bound to cross, I guess,” He shrugged.

nicole vondra.

”Unfortunately,” she responded, after returning back to Santa Monica, she did in fact looked into him and Vanessa to see if they started dating. But nothing came up besides Vanessa making it big in the fashion world and Maverick fulfilling his dream he would talk about with her. Nicole realized a lot has changed throughout the eight years. And yet, she felt like the same person.

“Yeah...quite unfortunate,” Mav chuckled. He wasn’t going to let the snark get to him, after all. It was crazy that so much had changed in the last eight years, but the hurt and the anger still lingered. Well, the anger had subsided but, the hurt was still there for him. He was at least glad to see she was doing good for herself. “Well, I’m glad you’re doing good, at least,” he said with a small smile.

nicole vondra.

Nicole wasn’t expecting him to act nonchalant, then again he always learned how to control his actual emotions. The fact they once were able to talk about things, be real with one another, all gone and felt like total strangers. She almost found herself reaching up to touch his face like she used to do, just to pinch his cheeks to get him to flash that silly smile he always gave her, a sign they would give one another to assure they’re okay. But things have changed, betrayal were made and Nikki knew they couldn’t come back from that. “You don’t have to lie Maverick.”

Maverick seeing her sober, made him realize how hard the encounter was now years later. He hoped for a laugh out of her, a genuine ‘It’s so great to see you again’ hug...but the way things went down years ago...there was no coming back from it. What was done is done and now, they’re strangers. “You know, believe it or not, I’m not lying. You’re out here doing your thing, least I could do is give credit where it’s due.”

nicole vondra.

Nicole was a little skeptical of Maverick, the last she seen of him was the dinner, where he threw shade towards her, get her riled up and now he’s acting like a good boy. Part of her wanted to crush that image, maybe it was the years apart and her exploring sexually that has her wanting to crush anything decent. “I’m a little surprised if I’m honest.”

Mav was taken aback by the comment but as he started to think about it, things were starting to make sense. While he did change and became more skeptical of people’s intentions, Mav still had a softer side beneath the chaos and arrogance. So he chuckled, “I’m guessing you’re expecting some villain vs hero type of thing?”

nicole vondra.

Nicole raised her eyebrows in amusement, “what is this...some cheesy ass teen drama show? No.” The blonde scoffed and rolled her eyes, she wondered how much he has changed since they were last seen together, before the cheating and the cheap blows, when they were actually in love with each other. It seemed like a far away dream to her.

Maverick let out a chuckle at Nicole’s reaction. He was pretty amused but he didn’t want to come off as he was making fun of her, the thought was just pretty hilarious. He knew things had changed between them and he wasn’t expecting this wholesome reunion after the cheating and revenge and the dinner of complete shade, but...he was beginning to think maybe he was over it all, and that it was better to remember the happier times. “Sorry, sorry,” he cleared his throat. “The thought of a teen drama just made me laugh for a sec, but no you’re totally right.”

nicole vondra.

Nicole struggled to keep her lips from curling up into a smile at the sound of his laugh, it was something she didn't realized she missed, it brought back memories, memories she tried to bury deep inside her head to forget about. The blonde pressed her lips firmly together and nodded her head, clenching onto the flowers as she tried to regain her emotions. "It was the only example that came to mind," she shrugged and flashed a smile.

For a moment, it almost looked like Nicole was about to smile, almost. He could tell she was fighting through her own emotions now, which is something she often did when she was under high stress. It was going to be pretty hard to not feel this sense of nostalgia, but such was life. “I mean hey, I also liked the concept of it. That was pretty much high school in a sort of weird fucked up way.”

nicole vondra.

Nicole looked down at the flowers, the thought of eight years ago felt like a life time ago, but part of her still held resentment towards Vanessa and Maverick, yet here he was conversing with her about the good ol' days.  "Yeah, young dumb and naive." She looked back up and met his eyes, the emotions she was almost feeling gone in a flash, it was like a void at this point and she had no one to blame but herself. "But it looks like you followed after your dream."

As much as Maverick wanted to just move past it and just be like 'fuck it, the past was the past', there was damage done between both of them. Nicole made the initial blow, but Maverick made the final blow, and even though it was a lie, it caused a damage that radiated towards both of them, and that wasn't something to bounce back from. "Naive's putting it pretty lightly," He chuckled once more, noticing the sparkle leaving Nicole's eyes was wild...it was like...she was hollow. "I did. I finally got drafted to the Lakers," He chuckled. "But, it looks like you did too. You opened up your flower shop."

nicole vondra.

He had a point, naive was putting it lightly, it was a disaster. She wondered how life ended up screwing her in the ass so hard that she now barely even recognized her own self sometimes. "Ah yes...I suppose I did, funny how life turns out." She shrugged, although she knew it wasn't something her parents wanted her to turn too, maybe somewhere along the lines of becoming a lawyer or help her older sister with the company. But instead, she did things her own way, invested her money into her own business without the help of anyone. So she could at least say she did something herself. "Congrats on the Lakers though, I know that was something you would always talk about."

The way life had ended up between him, Nicole, even Nick, and Nessa, wasn't the way it was supposed to be. Each of them, he could tell all wound up jaded in their own way, even himself. It was a heartbreak that led them right into reality, that not everything was all rosy and hazy. "Yeah...life has a weird way of fucking everyone up in its own way, huh?" Mav said sincerely, not meaning any malice, but the reality of it. "Thanks, it was...pretty solid. I mean, I finally got to meet Shaq in person after he followed me on instagram."

nicole vondra.

Nicole nodded her head in agreement, life did have a funny way, after so many years later she thought she would be fine with not having any sort of resentment towards Maverick or even Vanessa, but seeing them all again, it was like those surfaced emotions came forward. The blonde was just shocked to see she is able to hold a decent conversation with Maverick. Maybe part of her will always have some sort of connection with him. "Shaq...amazing. Who would have thought huh?"

Maverick didn't think that any of these emotions would be making their appearance, but he was learning to feel them and work through them. Except right about now wasn't the time to do so. Instead, he put on a brave face and, surprisingly held a solid conversation with Nicole for once. There wasn't shade or malice thrown, just a casual conversation. "I know, here I thought the closest I'd ever get to Shaq was just signed merch," He laughed, shaking his head. "So, is your shop just opening or is it still in the works?"

nicole vondra.

Nicole moved to the side when someone passed and realized they were probably blocking the entrance, she shuffled closer and reached out to move him out of the way before dropping her hand to her side. It almost felt like a familiar moment before she crushed it all down and focused back on the conversation. “Shaq...who would’ve thought, funny how things changes.” She brought her eyes back up and nodded her head, “it just opened, it’s going pretty good so I guess there’s that.”

Maverick quickly moved out the way as someone was passing by him and Nicole when he caught on to her hand just barely attempting to reach out for him to move him. Almost like old times, where she'd try and pull him out the way when someone walked or meandered by them. He almost wanted to sigh, but shook it off in the back of his mind as his eyes met hers once more. "Yeah, it's crazy. Time flies, people grow, things changed so fast, huh?" He added with a sigh. "Yo, that's dope. I'd have to tell my mom, although my dad might kill me because the old greenhouse is flooded with greenery now."

nicole vondra.

Nicole laughed, she certainly loved Maverick's parents, their family, they always held that warmth that she wished her own parents gave her. The blonde knew that after everything, she knew that maybe they despise her which she didn't blame. It was her fault for ruining things, and hurting Maverick. "I can only imagine your dad groaning at more plants. But you can never go wrong with buying flowers, maybe gift it as a present to your mom...sister...whoever."

Maverick laughed alongside Nicole, things feeling just a little more natural around the other...like old friends, he'd say. Almost. Even despite everything, Maverick still held a place in his heart for Nicole deep down, despite everything. His family would say the same...for the most part. "Oh yeah, he's getting real tired of it, but he's gotta kiss up to her for a little bit cause he's in the doghouse," He laughed, shaking his head. "Definitely! I wanted to get Lexa and Izzy some flowers as a thank you for dealing with my dumbass during my college years."

nicole vondra.

Nicole wanted to stay in this bubble, it was a feeling she never wanted to leave, maybe it was a familiar feeling she hasn’t felt in a long time. The way he made her heart warm and the fact she was within reach to reach up to caress his face. Maybe if things weren’t so fuck up, maybe they could have worked out, she tried not to think those thoughts. “Congrats on graduating, I believe.”

Maverick missed the feeling of catching up with Nicole. It was something they’d do after long summers away, just casually catch up and laugh at their own antics while they were away. This...almost felt like those times. “Thank you, it’s kinda daunting,” he chuckled. “But you know, I’m...looking forward towards what’s to come at least.”

nicole vondra.

”It’s all up from here as Nick says, but he clearly was talking about weed at the time so I wouldn’t exactly take his word.” Nicole laughed lightly, as much as she loved her twin, he gave her a headache. She wasn’t positive if it was just her who was enjoying the attention, almost like old times, his attention solely on her and that was one of the things she missed about him. Nicole started to realize that maybe she still loves him, as much as she doesn’t want to admit it, it was hard to fight. Which was probably stupid of her on what she was about to do. “Mav...” she trailed off as she took a step closer, raising onto the tip of her toes as she neared closer and pressed her lips against his, her free hand pressing against his shoulder for a steady hold.

“I mean, he’s not exactly wrong in that aspect,” Maverick teased with a chuckle. He was enjoying the conversation. Who knew after so long they could have a light hearted conversation like this. He was glad to have been able to—well—until suddenly Nicole’s lips were on his and his eyes widened, while he panicked at first, he was hit with a rather daunting realization. For the first time...he didn’t feel that pulling urge to kiss her back. He didn’t feel this intense spark that he had felt once before. So he sighed, taking Nicole’s hand carefully to set it back to her side, and stepping back from her. “Nicole,” He sighed. “I don’t feel that way about you anymore, and don’t get me wrong, if this happened maybe a year ago, two years ago, I’d say otherwise but, things changed.”

nicole vondra.

Nicole thought he would lean into the kiss as well but it caught her off guard when he pulled away from her, it was like a slap in the face as a reminder that things weren’t the same between them, at least for Maverick. Nicole felt her gut twisting as she dropped her hand to her side, maybe if she was two or a year sooner, maybe they could have worked out. “Oh...” she replied, taking a step back and motioned behind her, “I should...I need to go.” Nicole turned away and quickly walked out, cursing under her breath at what she did.

[wesratcliffe]

part 1 || self-para

wesley shot up from his chair, startling salem where she’d been leisurely munching on her dog treats, and raced over to the television on the opposite wall. he came face to face with the source of his nightmares, the source of his misery, the source of everything wrong in his life–

tw; mentions of murder, death, anxiety/panic attack, mentions of alcohol abuse

his phone was ringing again. 

wesley didn’t have to answer it to know it was his mother, trying to reach out for whatever reason that he couldn’t quite fathom. she kept calling from an unknown number, probably so that he couldn’t block her. he simply let her leave another voice mail that he’d delete without listening to. 

he stepped into the coffee shop with his dog at his side. the employees always looked forward to seeing him, if only because he always stopped by at the end of his morning walk with salem. she was a favorite among town. 

“good morning,” said the barista with a friendly smile. “and how’s our favorite customer?” 

“she’s good,” wesley answered, knowing they were not referring to him. salem stared up at the barista with pleading eyes, begging for the treat they always gave to her. “she’s energetic this morning, but i’ll try to keep her from hopping over the counter again.” 

the worker waved off his comment as they placed the cup of water and dog treat on the ground in front of salem. “you know none of us mind when she visits. i’ll get started on your usual.”

wesley stepped off to the side after paying, resting in a chair after the long walk and play time in the park. he vaguely registered the news station on in the background. 

“we’re excited to learn that such a large corporation will be spreading to the united states! mr. ratcliffe–”

wesley’s head snapped up. 

“do you have any comments on the status of your now international business?”

no. no, no, no, no. wesley was frozen in his seat with a white-knuckled grip on the arm rests. 

“i’m incredibly excited for such a big step forward in expanding my empire–”

NO.

wesley shot up from his chair, startling salem where she’d been leisurely munching on her dog treats, and raced over to the television on the opposite wall. he came face to face with the source of his nightmares, the source of his misery, the source of everything wrong in his life–

“i’ve been working on a move to the united states for some time! nearly a decade, in fact. but every time there was something that prevented us from truly moving forward.” his father practically oozed smarmy businessman arrogance. he looked older than wesley remembered. he had more wrinkles around his eyes, his jowls had sunken lower and his hair line had further receded. “but now, with our business so booming in the uk, we’re confident we’ll be able to bring the same success to the states.”

the scene cut back to the reporter at the desk. “according to our estimates, ratcliffe industries could very well offer upwards of two thousand new jobs in the richmond, virginia metropolitan area. the real estate tycoon jonathan ratcliffe continued to express his optimistic view on the new business venture, and has informed us that ratcliffe industries will be opening its doors for interviews at the end of the month–”

he felt sick to his stomach. no, that didn’t describe the feeling correctly. it was as if his insides were twisting together in terror, turning inside out in some futile attempt to escape. john ratcliffe was coming here, to the united states, in less than a month. the icy chill of fear — real, gripping fear that he hadn’t felt so intensely in so long — clamped down on his heart. he remembered at one point visiting london, trying and failing to confront his father over and over again. 

he’d been too scared, so he’d run away. as usual. 

he felt the urge to run again. go to another state, portland maybe. far, far away from the east coast. or perhaps another country, somewhere he was certain his father would never go. 

wesley felt a tug on his hand and it jolted him out of his terror-induced trance. he hadn’t realized how intensely he was breathing. he was practically hyperventilating. his gaze fell to the source of the tug, a concerned looking salem who gazed up at him with soft brown eyes. eyes full of infinite, unwavering trust and love, the kind of love that only an animal can offer. 

he couldn’t run. not now, not again. not after all of the progress he’d made. 

he was reminded of michele, of his friends, of the life he’d built for himself, however imperfect it still was. 

wesley hid his face in his hands and released a shaky breath. his breathing had calmed, though the terror still remained. 

“one black coffee, no cream, two sugars–” said the barista, placing the to-go cup in front of him. wesley couldn’t help the jolt that startled through him. 

“thank you,” he mumbled, taking the cup to go. his feet felt heavy, his body felt as if it was made of some impossibly heavy material, and he wondered how to move forward from this. 

the sounds of his office were just a haze in the back of his mind. copy machines droned on, phones rang, keys tapping, mice clicking, the coffee machine clacked as it forced out some horrendous caffeinated concoction.

all wesley could think about was the things he’d seen his father do. he’d been transported back, back to the scared sixteen-year-old boy hiding in a closet as he watched his father murder someone in cold blood. he could hear the man’s desperate pleas. the pleas of a man who had a family, that he’d pay john back, that he would be good for the money, sobs of please, please don’t, i have a daughter– 

and then the gun shot. 

it was a sharp sound, sharper than wesley would have imagined. he wondered how it was that people got away with shooting one unnoticed. to him it seemed like the loudest sound in the world. 

wesley sat terrified in that closet as john had his assistant clean up the blood. the stench had been overwhelming. it nearly made him vomit up his lunch from that day. 

“wesley–” 

welsey’s breathing quickened, heart hammering in his chest so loudly he was certain it was giving him away. 

“wesley.”

wesley jolted, harshly jerking his shoulder out of his boss’ grip. the sounds of the office returned to his ears, and the smell of blood was replaced by the smell of the cheap lemon-scented cleaner the custodian used. 

“are you okay? are you sick? you look like a ghost.”

wesley noticed he was breathing heavily again. he hard to force himself to speak, had to try and take some steadying breaths to even be able to force out a response. he wondered if this was what panic attacks felt like. 

“i’m just, not feeling great,” he croaked out. his voice sounded overly used, like he’d been screaming.

his boss recoiled with a grimace. “well then go the hell home. you know what this office was like when the flu went around, our entire accounting department was out the whole week. get out, go home if that shit is contagious.”

wesley nodded numbly. he had to go. somewhere else. anywhere else. 

the guilt settled in with the fear when he got home and sat down on his couch. salem was excited to see him as usual, and he’d gone through the motions of petting her as he stared blankly at the wall in front of him. 

he remembered the last time he spoke to his father. it was when he’d first enrolled in wdu. the school had understandably reached out to a guardian, wondering if this beat-up looking runaway had anyone who was looking for him. 

the phone call had been a screaming match. their first conversation in nearly three years, actually. john demanded that he come home, demanded to know what the hell had caused this–

the line had gone eerily silent when wesley revealed to his father than he saw him kill that man. it wasn’t a guilty silence, but a terrifying one. wesley could feel the fury radiating through the phone. 

“if you tell anyone, i’ll bring you down with me. i’ll ruin you.”

and then the deal. the deal that wesley cowardly offered up as something, anything, to get him away from his father. 

you don’t contact me, and i don’t tell. you leave me alone, and i’ll keep my mouth shut. 

that was when the self-hatred started. sometimes his therapist had tried to press him to ask when these self-esteem issues had first started. she’d said they often first arose during adolescence, often as a cause of natural insecurity and hormones that most teens went through. but wesley wasn’t an insecure teenager. he’d been blissfully unaware, living in the false reality his father had carefully crafted with fear tactics and threats. his therapist had dropped the subject for a while, though it was clear there was something he wasn’t telling her. 

and wasn’t that just the goddamn understatement of the century. 

john had threatened him, told him that if he ever said anything to anyone, he’d spend whatever money necessary to destroy wesley’s life. wesley believed him. and so, to protect his own skin, he’d kept the secret. 

for seven years now he’d been sitting on this, and for four years he’s hated himself for it. he recalled his first few months at wdu. he was the grouchiest then. no friends, hence the ever-present loneliness, and an overwhelming cloud of misery followed him everywhere. he remembered how he used to rely on alcohol and meaningless sex to feel something. to feel some sense of companionship. 

it was at one of those parties that he’d met will, and then later emmett. they didn’t go away after they were all sober, nor in the years to follow. 

it was during a sober day that he’d met michele. she’d scolded him on something, his attitude, if he recalled. he’d snarked back at her, and so the cycle had begun. he remembered how infuriating she was, how frustratingly stubborn. those qualities certainly hadn’t disappeared, except now his tune on them had changed. he remembered when their fighting turned to banter, turned to flirting. when their hatred for each other turned to mutual respect, to friendship, to infatuation, to love. 

he remembered feeling like his life was coming together for once, like maybe he could move on from this guilt and self-hatred. maybe he and his father could co-exist on opposite sides of the world in peace, never bothering of or thinking of the other. 

and then his mother, the same woman who’d left him a voicemail only hours before. 

wesley pulled out his phone and instead of hitting the delete button, he hit play. 

“wesley, i pray that you’re listening to these...” he found it off that he recognized her voice, even though he only really remembered their single conversation as an adult. “i know that you don’t want to see me, and i don’t blame you. i ran, and left you behind. but i can’t do that again. i can’t leave you behind without warning you. your father is coming. the news was announce officially announced yesterday. the rumors have been circling for some months, and you know i hoped that it was just another rumor. god i wish it was a rumor. ...i don’t know how you’ve gotten him to leave you alone for so long. you must have some secret on him...” the line went silent, and wesley thought was the end. 

“be safe, son. keep an eye out for him. don’t let him near you, please. ...i love you, let me know if you get–”

wesley quickly pressed the delete button. 

wesley’s walk to therapy was one he’d gotten used to. he went after work once a week now. he’d tried to do lunch breaks, but found that having a deeply emotional hour made it harder to drag himself back into work. 

“so, tell me what’s on your mind.” 

dr. lauren vaughn hadn’t started a session that way since he’d first started therapy. normally now they just chatted. there were some sessions that were more intense, some where deeply buried issues resurfaced, others were revelations were made. but they’d found an equilibrium that worked for them. 

“what makes you think something is on my mind?” he asked. he still often answered the too personal questions with questions of his own. it was an avoidance tactic both he and lauren were aware of. 

“you have been seeing me at least once a week, sometimes two or three, for nearly a year now–”

had it really been almost a year? he supposed so, it was almost summer. 

“i think i know when something is on your mind.”

wesley fiddled his fingers and stared down at the abstractly patterned carpet. it was a mix of beiges, browns and greens. earthy tones that he supposed were supposed to feel neutral and relaxing. 

“...do you want to talk about it?”

lauren had learned quickly that there were some things that he refused to discuss. she’d tried to poke and prod at first, only for wesley to leave sessions early and in a huff. she’d found progress was more steadily made when wesley was allowed to reveal things at his own terms. some people wanted to talk, but wesley was not one of those people. 

“...say you’re keeping a secret...”

wesley searched for words. how did he even begin? how much did he reveal? the thought of revealing all of it made his stomach twist in fear, and the thought of not saying anything at all made it writhe in guilt. 

he just couldn’t win. 

“say you’ve been keeping a secret for...a long, long time. a secret that you shouldn’t have been keeping, because keeping it...hurts people. but...revealing it hurts yourself. and– and you want to tell everyone, because it’s the right thing to do. but what happens when the right thing to do brings bad consequences for you? and...and the people close to you?”

lauren sighed, wondering what wesley could possibly be talking about. “well... keeping this secret seems to be hurting you too, doesn’t it?”

wesley paused. she...wasn’t wrong. 

“and maybe, doing the right thing would help in the long run, even if it’s hard in the beginning. maybe it would help others, and it would help you.”

[silverloreley]

To be frank I disagreed with you on the notion that it’s wrong for bakugou to be brought in on the ofa secret especially since the logic for you Is basically that it’s wrong because bakugou bullied izuku etc I have got to be frank bakugou and izuku cooperating with each other is great (and improve the from the previous gen izuku being the all might and bakugous parallels with endeavor (where bakugou got served humble pie when he was young which began his development 1/?

Bakugou’s character development process since day one. Was never simply just arrived at a zenlike conclusion on his own through stern self-reflection or anything like that. his entire story has been him learning and growing from one humbling experience after anotheR had it not been for that he could have become endeavor when he grew up They are improvements to previous gen as shown by how izuku pet bakugou in on the secret and they are working with each other 2/?

I believe that the series is building up to Deku and Bakugou working together to become The Greatest Heroes as a team,

(I received those three together, so I assume they are a single topic. There’s another sort-of-question in my inbox too, but that will have to wait because I already spent an hour for this reply and I have irl things to do today)

We can certainly agree to disagree. Everyone is allowed to have their point of view. Let me make some clarifications before I reply (although there wasn’t a real question here, just an opinion and probably an attempt at making me change my mind... -.-)

First of all, ”Bakugou was a bully” wasn’t the only logic behind my refusal. I have other reasons, that was just the one that probably came out stronger from my fic notes.

About that, this is what I wrote:

“ I mean... do I love Bakugou and his character development? Yes. Am I still waiting for a proper apology to Izuku? Hell yes. Do I think he should have known about OfA? Abso-fucking-lutely NO. That's the hill I'll die on. No, I didn't have a chance to watch the second BnHA movie yet, but I don't think I'll change my mind on that. Plot-wise it was pointless and I can tell you it won't happen here. “

You may notice I don’t discard his character development, it’s actually one of the things I like about him (aside from the obvious traits I see in him of myself, almost as many as I have in common with Izuku, which is another discussion entirely). It’s not his past as a bully the reason I don’t think his involvement in the secret was necessary, although it certainly factors in my head, but the fact the plot didn’t need it AND he wasn’t ready for it.

He didn’t grow enough, he asked to know and he was given what he wanted just like he always had. Yes, he made leaps from where he started, but he didn’t need to be put apart of OfA’s secret. He needed to be told where he went wrong so far and accept the simple life fact you can’t get all you want just because you feel entitled to it. He should have offered to help without knowing how vital it was, how important it was to All Might.

Only after seeing him help because he feels it’s right and not for competitivity/reward I could have agreed to let him know.

Now that I saw the second movie, I am still of the same opinion: this ending was discarded for a good reason. It was all scenography and no actual content, the Twin Stars thing is not the ending I want to see and I hope Horikoshi realized it’s not ideal either. The best part of the movie was, honestly, the way the class collaborated flawlessly, even if it came down to one-on-ones (or two-on-one in Nine’s case) at the end.

I may add the reason I’ve been waiting for an apology (or even just an admission “I was an ass to you”) is mostly for my sake, for the part of me that, like Izuku, was bullied to the verge of breaking, the me who never had a single word of apology for the way I was hurt and had to pick up my pieces alone. I’ll never have it in reality, let me at least get it in fiction.

It’s a very personal thing, okay? I don’t expect people to agree with me (which is funny, since I used to be the kind of person who always felt in the right, again, a lot like Katsuki here. In a way, I could say I was bullied so much without help like Izuku I had to become Katsuki to protect myself. Again, another discussion entirely).

Second: I understand Horikoshi’s artistic choices, it doesn’t mean I have to share them or find them perfect.

Again about my note: you may notice I said “plot-wise”, which should probably be corrected, now that I’m on par with the manga, with “the plot could perfectly work even without that”. What use was it having Bakugou in Toshinori and Izuku’s OfA reunions? He could have helped from the outside, if he wanted to prove he’s a better person, a better person doesn’t need to be apart of every single detail to offer his help, especially because he didn’t add anything of value (think about when they are talking about OfA predecessors, the only thing he does is point out they died young and snarked about how lame their quirks were, what kind of useful input is it?) Even in the last chapters (I won’t delve to keep it spoilers-free), his presence in the fight had no particular relevance save for a couple moments, but he could have been replaced easily and/or decided to go anyway without knowing (just like Todoroki did, to say)

Oh, I do like the idea of the new generation correcting the past, I’m all for an ending that deletes the competition between Heroes and favours cooperation, except I’d like to see a whole cooperation among all Heroes, not the Twin Stars thing Horikoshi is hinting towards. I wanted, from the start, to see Deku become the de-facto leader of a community of Heroes who work together in equality, each depending on their abilities and strengths without trying to outdo each other at every turn but working as different parts of a single body.

The Twin Stars thing defeats this purpose, it’s an artistic choice that hinges on keeping up parallels and foils where things improve from one foil to another, but eventually keeps a similar status quo.

Now that we’re talking about artistic choices, I want to add I don’t like the overuse of parallels in works of fiction. Having too many defeats the purpose of having one in the first place, which is to point out important bits of the story and the difference a single choice or point of view can make. Too many are distracting and don’t allow the reader to decide which ones are really important.

Horikoshi put in BnHA definitely too many for my taste: All Might-Deku vs AFO-Shigaraki should have been the only relevant one. For how much I like the Eri vs Shigaraki, it wasn’t explored, yet, which means so far it’s not relevant. Endeavor vs Bakugou is an interesting one too and I’m fine with it, but making it an All Might-Endeavor vs Deku&Bakugou is a choice I can’t share. To me, the story should get to the point to completely push down the current inefficient Hero system, and not improve it the slight little bit with having a pair of Number Ones instead of an absolute one and everyone below them.

Again, that’s my point of view, agree to disagree.