#but must first find something to do with all the things i had to take out of storage to relocate

[fastandcarlos]

End Of The World : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: you were fine that morning, so when lando suddenly gets a phone call that changes his things upside down, it feels as if his world has come crashing down

His heart sunk as Lando tried to get his head around what he was told on the phone. It was a blur of words to him as Lando tried to piece it altogether, tears falling freely down his cheeks. His knees buckled from underneath him as Lando dropped down into a chair, his breath shaky, heart racing as the call came to an end. 

He couldn’t quite believe it, your smile the last thing he saw that morning. Yet after being hit on your way to work, Lando’s world suddenly felt as if it was crashing down, hearing that your unconscious body had been transported to the nearest hospital. 

“I-I need to go,” Lando stuttered as he stood up from the meeting, rushing out of the building before anyone could reply. Panicked eyes watched Lando, but he was long gone, sprinting as fast as he could out of the building to where his car was parked. The journey was a blur as Lando blinked through his tears, hurrying into the hospital, shouting out your name. 

He was stopped by a doctor holding onto his shoulders, noticing how distressed he was. 

“Right this way,” the doctor told him, leading him down the corridor to where Lando could find you. “There is one thing that I must tell you first, your girlfriend is not in a good way. There’s extensive damage, most of it physical, which you need to prepare for.” 

“I don’t care,” Lando whispered, “I just want to be with her, please.” 

As the door to your room opened, a sharp intake of breath came from him. Lando couldn’t believe his eyes as he noticed the cuts and grazes all over your body, the machines around your bedside with cables attached to your body to keep you alive. 

“Oh, love,” Lando hummed, rushing to sit down beside you, placing his hand delicately over yours. You were cold, fragile, nothing like the warmth he usually received from you. “I’m here now,” Lando told you, brushing the pad of his thumb over the back of your hand. “She’s going to be alright, isn’t she?” 

“She’s stable,” the doctor informed him, standing in the doorway to your room. “The injuries are quite severe; we’re going to have to be closely monitoring your partner for a little while longer before we can make any decisions.” 

“Is there going to be any lasting damage? Permanently?” 

“Most of her injuries will heal with time,” the doctor tried his best to assure Lando, offering him a weak smile. “It sounds like the driver lost control of their car when they hit your partner’s, she overturned into the road,” he added, watching Lando flinch as he pictured the scene of the crash.  

All he could see was your car, with you terrified inside of it. Lando hated thinking about how you felt, how scared you must have been when that impact came, all alone in your car. He could imagine you calling out for him to help you, only he was nowhere to be found. 

His free hand continued to wipe under his eyes as Lando continued to study you. He’d lost count of how many marks he found, bruises, scrapes, cuts, not to mention the dry blood that was in your hairline. He wished he could do something, anything, to take the pain away. 

The doctor left the room, leaving Lando all by himself with you, giving him the time that he needed. His mind was racing with his own thoughts as his eyes stayed staring down at you, struggling to believe how his life had managed to turn upside down in only a blink of an eye. 

“I’m not leaving your side,” Lando whispered as he squeezed your hand, “I promise that you’re going to be alright.” 

The lack of response from you sent a shiver down Lando’s spine. Usually you’d laugh, or smile, give him some sort of reaction, but instead Lando was left with nothing from you. 

“I hate that you went through this all alone,” Lando added, moving one of his hands to brush over the top of your head through your hair. “I love you, however long you need to I’m going to be there for you. I know I joke about telling you to shut up all the time, but now I really could do with hearing your voice sweetheart.” 

The only sound in the room was the beep of the machines, letting Lando know that you were still there. It was a steady beat, which the doctor assured him was a good sign, but the only sign that Lando would take was the one when your eyes opened up. 

The hours he spent at the hospital soon became days, turning into a couple of weeks. Lando could hardly remember what the outside looked like as he spent every possible second with you, making sure that you knew that he was right there with you. 

When they could, his family and friends would stay with him for a while, even some of the other drivers had stopped by too. Mostly they were there to check on Lando, knowing that he’d no doubt neglect himself as he tried to focus all his energy on you instead. 

“There you are,” one of the nurses smiled as Lando walked through the hospital doors again, rushing down the corridor to get to him. “We were wondering if we were going to see you again.” 

Lando looked suspiciously across at her, following behind as she walked down to where your room was. “Has something happened?” 

“Don’t worry,” she smiled, saying nothing more as they got to the door to your room. “I’ll come and see how she’s getting on in a bit.” 

Lando nodded as he opened up the door, placing his phone into his pocket that he held. The regular beeping greeted him, although as Lando’s eyes looked up, his heart stopped as he saw a familiar pair of eyes staring back across at him. 

Lando rushed in, taking his usual seat beside you. 

“You’re awake,” he whispered, leaning across and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?” Lando fretted, eyes studying you closely. 

Your head faintly shook, the amount of pain you were in evident from the expression that was on your face. “I’m fine,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. 

A sigh came from Lando as he heard just how weak you were for the very first time. “You’ve got no idea how scared I was, I thought I was going to lose you, like the end of the world or something.” 

There was a look of disbelief on Lando’s face as he held onto your hand, struggling to believe that you were there with him. It would still be a long recovery for you, but it was the start that he had been hoping for. 

“You’ve got no idea how many people have stopped by to visit you,” Lando told you, “I always knew that everyone adored you, but I had no idea just how much, they’re all going to be so happy to hear you’re awake.” 

Your smile slowly turned up as Lando spoke, your mind was foggy as you tried to figure how much you had missed, still so uncertain as to what had happened. 

“You’re going to be alright,” Lando smiled, squeezing against your hand once again. “I’m going to be with you every single second, I promise.” 

“W-what happened?” You stuttered, voice faltering as you looked to Lando to try and make sense of everything and fit the missing jigsaw pieces together. 

Lando frowned, “your car was overturned, some guy lost control and went crashing into you, but you don’t need to worry about that, everything is getting sorted.” 

Your head nodded as Lando pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I love you,” you whispered as his ear brushed your lips. 

“I love you too, I’m so glad that you’re okay.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[shadowykittengladiator]

I disagree actually. I stand by my earlier words. Joker is not that important that a king would have to come from an another dimension to kill him. Joker didn't get ressurected that many times, there have been people that died and came back a lot more than Joker in DC canon. Including Jason, Bruce, Damian, Talia, Ra's, Superman, Superboy, the entire thing with the Black Lanterns really. It can't be because Joker killed many people either. There are people in both DC canon and earth history that killed a lot more than he did. Danny would need to visit a large number of people before he comes anywhere near Joker in that list.

I mean, let's be honest, we know why Danny is headcannoned to kill Joker a lot. Because people care about Jason Todd and wants him to get revenge. Never mind the fact that Jason doesn't want to kill Joker, he specifically wants Bruce to kill Joker. I mean I don't like Jason but I can still understand people who do. People in general disregard a lot in comic canons while writing fics, Which is,like, fine This isn't criticism by the way. It doesn't need to make sense in canon sense for it to be enjoyable. This is DC we are talking about after all. Comics are a mess.

Also I don't think Bruce would mourn Joker. Not even in the sense you talked about. Year 1 Batman might have given a thought or two, maybe felt pity for a second, that Joker wasn't able to change his life, before moving on with his life, completely forgetting him. But after Jason became the red hood in the timeline? No way. It's has been proven time and time again that Bruce wants the Joker dead, that he wants to kill him but is holding himself back due to his principles.

Just to be clear again, it is a bit hard to convey opinions in text. This is not criticism, don't come after me people. Overall, I enjoyed this discussion and the prompt.

By the way, if we are going with infinite realms being infinite, there must be other knights working for Danny. And with many people like Joker, Danny obviously can't go after them all. So instead;

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

He sends one of his knights. One of the inexperienced ones. Joker is after all, not as important as someone like Darkseid, who has been a thorn in Danny's side for some time now.

Batman is skeptical at first after all, when a knight in an armor appears and explains to him. A dead dimension? People Joker killed wanting revenge? Joker unbalanced life and death so much he must stand trial before the king? He doesn't believe it.

He sends word to Constantine, who confirms Infinite Realms exists and there has, in fact, been a new king but he doesn't know much more than that. A word to Captain Marvel confirms it's a death dimension and the new king is a good king. Marvel would know, he is friends with the new king, apparently. Diana confirms Joker might have been broken the balance and it is possible this might gather the attention of the king of the Infinite Realms.

Batman makes some more research after that but it is enough to him. The knight asked Joker to be delivered in a days time so Batman prepares to go Arkham Asylum only to find cave empty of Jason, who has been restlessly pacing while angrily muttering something.

He arrives at Arkham Asylum just in time to see Jason knock Joker out. He watches him for a bit before making himself known.

"Are you going to stop me?" His son asks. Batman doesn't answer. Instead he takes out a......... present tape?

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

"Is that the Joker?" The young knight asks them when they show up at the agreed time. He sounds bemused, seeing Joker wrapped like a present and bound with tape. But that wasn't the funniest part. Courtesy of Dick, Joker looked like a clown. And actual clown this time, with red nose and wig.

He also had various bruises from various people all over his face but nobody cared about that.

"We figured your king might like it." Dick answers as Nightwing.

The knight coughs and Bruce doesn't need to have perfect reading skills to know he is trying not to laugh.

The knight takes of his helmet and offers them a smile. He reaches out for a handshake. He couldnt be older then eighteen but that is not what Bruce focuses.

A gasp by his side, from Red Hood, makes him realize he is not hallucinating.

Bruce knows this boy. Like he knows the girl he failed to save because he couldn't solve Riddler's puzzle in time, or the girl that drowned in the sewers because Bruce wasn't strong enough, or the boy that was stabbed by his father because he he didn't want to join a gang, or the boy that froze to death the last time Dr.Freeze escaped Arkham, or the child that burned to death due to Firefly and to this day they don't know who they were.

He knows this boy. Aiden Miller. Got kidnapped by Joker. The clown told them they were on a time limit. Him and Jason, as Robin at the time, managed to find him in time, only to find Aiden's body completely brutalized. Joker played with them again. Aiden's parents were also killed in the attack. Bruce made sure the boy had a funeral for him.

He shakes the hand of the boy he couldn't save and watches as he takes the Joker. Bruce thought this Infinite realms was just another afterlife governed by a God. And it was. But it has to be more than that. This boy that died as a preteen grew up to a fine young man and came back to bring justice to his killer. Even if he was a ghost.

He needs to talk to Constantine and Marvel. See if they can help him join Jokers trial and get him and his family a seat on his execution. Jason's birthday was coming, his boy would appreciate it.

He wondered if this King of the Infinite Realms needed a lawyer for Jokers trial. He is Batman after all, and Batman was a master of many things.

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

Damn, I don't know how to write in English😮‍💨😑

DPxDC Legal Power

Batman: You can not punish the Joker

Batman: You are no judge, jury, and executioner

Danny Fenton, standing over Joker's beaten body: Actually, I am

Danny Fenton, raising the Creep Stick up: I am the High King of Infinite Realms, and this bitch has been resurrected more than once

Danny Fenton, smacking Joker like a piñata: With the use of a pool of some nasty smelling ecto, mind you, but it puts him under my jurisdiction nonetheless

Danny Fenton, smiling at Batman as Joker is wheezing and trying to crawl away: So I am the judge, jury, and executioner for him since I'm the highest power in a Realm where he is a denizen

Danny Fenton, catching the Joker by the ankle and dragging him back: And as the King, I hereby sentence him to death by a repetitive use of The Creep Stick over his whole body

Batman: ...

Red Hood, with a bowl of popcorn: Do you mind switching The Creep Stick for a crowbar?

[ostaramoon]

lovebird  ➹ dean winchester

【 pairing 】 dean x angel!reader / cupid!reader 【 summary 】 you’re a cupid, you can’t help the natural call to make two beings fall in love. even if it means bringing critters into the bunker when no ones looking.  【 cw 】 fluff, spn lore on cupids is bland so yes i’m adding to it, grumpy x sunshine trope 【 wordcount 】 1.3k

the bunker had been under a quiet hum for quite some time now, sam in the library organizing and filing while dean sat in the war room looking for cases. the older winchester had nearly forgotten about the little angel cas left in their care a few weeks ago. a cupid, to be precise. 

at first he absolutely refused, claimed they weren’t a daycare for heaven’s flight crew. but cas, being a busy man, simply left the brothers standing in the bunker with a smiley little cherub. unlike most angels dean has met, you were sickeningly sweet, incredibly helpless at times, and though he would never admit it— adorable, too. 

you tried to be helpful, like quietly stepping in to do the chores sam and dean argued over. but it’s not like you really knew what you were doing. like the time dean tiredly shuffled into the kitchen one morning, opening the cupboard to find bacon, milk, and eggs stashed in there. when he started on an angry roll of name calling, it was your tear filled eyes and pouty lips that made him shut up quick. that afternoon was spent teaching you what food goes in the fridge. 

or the time you tried to fix up the impala, completely unaware that spray paint doesn’t cover up scratches. when dean strolled into the garage, expecting to take a sweet sunday joy ride just to find his baby had been vandalised, his shouts damn near shook the entire bunker. when he found you with paint stained fingertips and that pathetic wobbly lip, his anger dissipated. you settled on a promise to never under any circumstances ever touch baby again. 

now, as he sits before the glow of sam’s laptop, the quiet begins to feel entirely unsettling. he leaves his spot, heading for the library. when he doesn’t see you taking on your usual little helper tasks with sam his brows furrow. 

“have you seen the little bird?” 

sam looks up from his pile of books and paper, “no,” he shrugs, “i thought she was with you.”

that damn cupid is up to something, he thinks to himself. 

with a sigh dean turns, setting off to sweep the bunker. the kitchen is quiet, empty. at least the food is safe he assures himself. heading down stairs into the hall of bedrooms he finds your room empty as well. as he heads towards the dungeon, the last place he’d expect you as you once described it as dark and spooky, a muffled giggle stops him in his tracks. 

he waits, listening, as he hears it again coming from sam’s bedroom. he quietly approaches the door, gently pushing it open to find you kneeling on the ground with your back to the door. 

“what the hell are you doing, lovebird?” he crosses the room, standing over you and what he can now see to be a pair of brown fluffy rabbits. 

startled, you look up at him with wide eyes, “nothing.” you smile. his heart does that stupid little flutter that seems to only happen when you smile at him like that. all sweet with a pinch of mischief. 

“right,” his brows knit together as he points at the rabbits, “this is nothing?” 

a little humph leaves your lips as you rise to your feet, crossing your arms and looking up at dean with a determined scowl across your face, “i’m matchmaking, if you must know. these two have been hopping around outside for days and i could practically smell how much they need each other.” 

he looks between you and the critters a few times, “yeah, no, we’re not doing this. no rabbits— no animals of any kind allowed in the bunker.”

 his heart pangs as you jut out your bottom lip, eyes growing glossy. damn this pathetically cute little thing. his hands instinctively cup your face, “hey, hey, lovebird. no crying, remember?” his voice gruff, barely masking his annoyance.

you sniffle, biting your cheek to stop the tears brimming your lashes. you can’t always help the crying, cupids are naturally empathetic creatures with no qualms about showing their emotions. dean thumbs your cheeks, giving a light squeeze to one side. 

“but i’m a cupid!” you cry out, “i can’t help wanting to help them fall in love.” 

“rabbits don’t fall in love!” he drops his hands from your face, trying to find his words despite the absurdity of yours. “they mate, like the saying, ��mate like rabbits’ there's no love happening here.” 

you stare up at him, wiping stray tears as some terrible thought makes your face turn sour. “so, like you?” your voice reflects the absolute devastation you feel at the realization. 

“oh what now?” dean groans.

“they’re like you! mating with no love.” you whimper. it’s no secret dean moves about women with everything except love. it was one of the first things you noticed about him, a spider's web of potential love stories that never takes because he’s swatting them away before anything divine can happen. you could have easily fixed this, but something about dean getting sweet with another woman makes your heart feel heavy. besides, dean asked you specifically not to matchmake with humans while you were on earth. so, the itch to use your skills was killing you and a perfectly innocent set of rabbits happened to be right outside the bunker. 

dean shoots you an incredulous look before shaking his head, “alright, i’m gunna pretend you didn’t just say that, little bird. we’re getting these things out. now.” he brushes past you, reaching for the rabbits far too slowly and aggressively, making them scurry off in opposite directions. 

“great!” you shout, “you scared them! now they’ll never even mate!” you drop to your knees, cooing gently at the fluff hiding underneath the bed. 

dean paces behind you, eyes squeezed shut as he musters up all the patience in the world, “hold on,” he stops abruptly, tilting his head to you, “why are you in sam’s room?” 

a shy smile finds your lips at you meet his quizzical gaze, “sam doesn’t say no nearly as often as you do. i thought if he saw how cute the bunnies are, he’d be on my side and i’d get to keep them and their love babies.” 

as much as dean would love to think your words fill him with nothing but anger and annoyance, your innocently sharp manipulation is rather fascinating. you were right, sam doesn’t like to say no and he was more fond of having pets than his older brother is, but dean would have put an end to this little scheme one way or another. 

as you lie half under the bed now, reaching for one of the rabbits, dean notices the little black droppings peppering the room. sam’s room.

“actually, lovebird,” he smirks, “why don’t we leave those two alone for a bit, see if your matchmaking skills really can work on the wildlife.” 

your excitement at his words makes you scramble off of the ground, peering up at him with a hopeful smile, “really? you think it’ll work?” 

“mhm,” he grins, stealing your hand in his, “let’s give ‘em some space, i’ll watch that reality show you love and let you tell me which ones are fated souls and all that cupid stuff you talk about.” 

➹

you sat with your legs crossed on the couch, dean beside you with a beer in hand and an amused grin as you raddled off all the little quirks that are tell-tale signs of a cupid’s work. on the other side of the bunker there's a clunk of commotion that startles you, but dean hardly reacts, his grin morphing into a satisfied smirk. 

“what was that?” you grab dean’s arm, shuffling closer to him.

“give it a sec.” he responds cooly. within seconds sam is stomping into the room, bewildered and clearly annoyed. 

“why,” he huffs, “are there rabbits shitting all over my room?” 

“oh no.” you whimper, sinking deeper into the couch, hiding your head under dean’s arm. 

“the little angel brought you a gift, sammy,” the older winchester let’s out an uncontrollable laugh, watching his frazzled brother with pure amusement, “don’t you just love it?” 

y'all i am not used to writing without angst or an emotional overtone so pls lmk if this sucks lol

[temiizpalace]

☆┊MAY I HAVE THIS DANCE?

SUMMARY: many heroes wished to share this dance with you, yet you chose him.

CHARACTERS: HEARTSLABYUL

GENRE: fluff

OTHER: heartslabyul savanaclaw octavinelle scarabia pomefiore ignihyde diasomnia

NOTES: thank you for an entire year, tumblr! as celebration for my first anniversary, have a small mini scenario as a token of my gratitude.

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

PROLOGUE ☆˙∘

excitement fluttered within the confines of the classroom. a nationwide gala was being held this evening for students all over twisted wonderland, and this years selected host was none other than the prestigious night raven college. you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous with how everybody spoke of such an event.

even if dances weren’t your thing, it was still worth it to go, right? “myah.. what’s with all the blabbering? it’s just a borin stuffy ball, right? all ya do is stand around for hours. i can guarantee ya not everyone’s gonna have a dance partner.” grim huffs, beginning to grow annoyed with the gossip.

“well, there’s going to be food from all over the region. at least then we’d have something to do, right?” you grin, your partner in crime suddenly very excited for the dance. “why didn’t ya start with that?! we needa go prep our outfits right now!”

evening came sooner than you anticipated. as chaotic as nrc was, somehow this was 10x as lively as usual. everybody had spoke with someone new while you were stuck at the snack bar with grim. a new face appears, wishing to have a small chat.

🌹┊RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS∘˙✩

“so you’re the magicless prefect, hm?”

a young boy leaned on the table, his unexpected presence startling you. “and you are..?” you question, curious as to how he knew you. he looked unfamiliar, but you couldn’t help but notice his pristine and well dressed appearance. he was handsome, certainly.

“where are my manners? amias reinheardt, a pleasure.” he smiles, bowing slightly before you. “i have heard lots about you, meeting you in person is truly an honor.” the way he spoke so highly of you was flattering, it was almost too much. but all his praise leads back to the same question: how does he know you?

“it’s nice to meet you, but how do you know me exactly?” you ask, raising your brow. “you’re quite popular. my classmate neige had many things to say, i just had to meet you myself.” he chuckles, and suddenly it clicked. classmate? “you’re from rsa?”

“correct you are.” he chuckles. now it all made sense. he was surprisingly chatty, but not in an off putting way. it was actually nice having someone not stuffing their face anytime you tried to talk to them. however, your chatter and laughter caught the attention of a nearby redhead.

“riddle, calm down.” trey sighs, seeing as riddle grit his teeth from afar. “what are you on about, trey? i am perfectly calm.” unfortunately, riddle was not raised as a good liar. “just go up to them, im sure it’s fine.” the boy in glasses sighs, adjusting them so they don’t fall off his face.

“it’s rude to interrupt conversations, you know.” riddle frowns, crossing his arms. despite his attempts to act unbothered, his gaze would still find its way back to you. seven why must you do this to him?

maybe he should just go over there. why fight it if there’s nothing to gain but seething jealousy?

a slow song starts to play, students suddenly stopping and taking their partners to the floor. amias paused as well, looking to you with a small smile. “oh? prefect, shall we?” he holds his hand out to you, waiting for you to take it.

riddle, on the other hand, was not going to stand for that. “[MC].” riddle struts over, causing you to whip your head over in his direction. “riddle?”

“may i have this dance?” he puts a hand behind his back, bowing slightly while reaching out for you. “pardon?” amias interjects, looking to riddle then back at you. “i believe i had asked first.”

oh. taken aback by their sudden proposals, you had to take a moment to ensure this is reality and not some weird vivid dream you were apart of.

you hesitate for a moment before taking riddle’s hand. “im sorry amias..” you mumble, shooting him an apologetic look. “don’t be. maybe someday..” he trails off, watching as riddle led you to the dance floor.

“at least try to be more cautious around strangers, prefect. not all of them have good intentions.” he sighs, waltzing you around the ballroom. his movements were refined, not perfect but not imperfect either. he made sure not to step on your foot no matter how bad your dancing may be.

“oh come on, he wasn’t a bad guy. maybe you’re just jealous.” you laugh, his silence a clear enough answer for you. his cheeks were red, but it was far too endearing.

“i wouldn’t want to share this dance with anyone else, riddle.” you hold a firm grip on his hands as you spoke, unable to hide your own flustered expression in turn.

“..im happy to hear that, [MC]..”

❤️┊ACE TRAPPOLA˙∘✩

“you [MC]?”

you turn to find a short boy invading your personal space, taking a few steps back to get a clear view of him. “uhm.. yes? and you’re.?” you answer, confused. his outfit was a tad disheveled, like it was barely put together. there were wrinkles and folds in his suit, but he had an odd charm about him.

“alan. alan fletcher. upcoming star player for rsa’s basketball team.” he grins triumphantly, his expression almost cocky. “ohh, i have a friend in basketball!” you reply, making the boy flinch.

“what?! err i mean, i heard a lot about ya. popular dude from school talks about you sometimes.” he shrugs, like he was reading your mind. you were just about to ask how he knows you!

“well there’s not much to know about me.” you laugh awkwardly, fiddling with the ends of your sleeves.

“yeah right, you’re from a different world! cmon, talk about it! im curious. what’s different there?” he asks, leaning on the table. it’s been awhile since you’ve last got to talk about home. with all the chaos at nrc, you’ve almost forgotten you’re trying to look for a way back.

“i guess there are a few things.” you chuckle, causing the boys heart to flutter.

ace frowned from afar, an unfamiliar feeling of jealousy coming over him as he stared. “ACE, THATS WAY TOO MUCH PUNCH! STOP POURIN.” deuce yells, his cup overflowing and spilling onto the tablecloth.

ace looks to deuce. he was absentmindedly scooping punch into his cup without realizing it. “gah, we need napkins! professor crewel would kill us if he saw this.”

while deuce was fretting over the spill, rushing over for napkins or any cloth he can find to mask the spill, ace felt lost. has he always been this jealous over you? i mean, sure he’s given a few dudes the stink eye every now and then, but this felt different.

the song changed abruptly, everyone now finding a dance partner or stepping off the floor. alan looks at you, waiting for you to say something. you try to avoid his gaze, his stare beginning to grow unsettling.

breaking the silence, alan spoke. “hey, do you wanna—”

“yo! [MC]!” ace shouts, running over to you with a cheeky grin. “been lookin for ya. cmon, let’s dance!” he grabs your hand, pulling you towards the middle of the ballroom.

“what?! hey!” alan calls out for you, but by the time you turned around to apologize, he was already out of sight.

you frown at ace, to which he scoffs in return. “what?”

“that was a bitch move, ace.” you pinch his nose, causing him to wince in pain.

“OW! look, we can apologize later. shut up and dance for awhile!” he chuckles, spinning you around.

“thought you were gonna dance with deuce. you jealous?”

“..i said shut up dance.”

(deuce was pissed to see ace leave him with the stain but at least you’re having fun).

♠┊DEUCE SPADE∘˙✩

“are you the student with no magic?”

a boy in a tacky looking hat smiled at you, making you stare for awhile before finding his eyes. aside from his hat, his suit was quite.. eccentric. colorful, for sure. somehow it all tied together, but he would most definitely stand out in a crowd. “i am..” you nod slowly.

“the names thistle!” he grinned, holding his hand out. as you reach out to shake his hand, he pulls a rose out of his sleeve and hands it to you elegantly. somehow this guy reminds you of a certain somebody in pomefiore.. interesting.

“are you familiar with che’nya? i know he sneaks onto your campus at times.” he laughs.

“i see him at unbirthday parties. didn’t know he talked about me so often.” you chuckle, finding the thought flattering.

“he tells me you’re from another universe. care to talk about it?” he asks, resting his chin on his hand.

“hm.. to kill time i guess.”

deuce stared at you, his expression blank and empty. you were laughing and having a good time, he should be happy, right? why does his heart ache so much?

seeing you with a rose in hand and a huge smile on your face would be such a breathtaking sight if it weren’t for who was next to you.

ace took notice of deuce’s expression, or lack of thereof. he smirked and nudged him gently. “looks like the prefect is hot on the market.” Ace teased, a cocky grin on his face.

deuce shoots him a glare, suddenly frowning at his partner in crime. “shut up! they can talk to whoever they want! im not jealous.” he huffs, crossing his arms.

“i never said anything about jealousy. yeesh, lighten up.” ace holds his hands up in defense, backing away slowly. “if you’re really upset just go talk to em. im sure your presence is welcomed with open arms anyway.”

“you think so..?” deuce felt his eyes lighten up, his gaze averting back to you.

the ballroom crowded to the center, students finding their partners to dance to the slow rhythm. thistle looks at you, putting his hand out. before he can even ask, a loud shout from across the ballroom stops him in his tracks.

“[MC]!!” deuce sprints over, stopping in front of you while panting for breath.

“deuce?! where did you—”

“WOULD YOU LIKE TO DANCE WITH ME?” he asks in between breaths, eyes shimmering in a newfound confidence. realizing he sounded a little pushy, he finally regulates his breathing and asks once more.

“uhm— i meant uh.. may i have this dance.?” he holds his hand out, bowing slightly before you.

you look to thistle, he smiled and gestured for you to take deuce’s hand. before taking off, you mouth an apology before turning to deuce and bringing him to the center.

“you didn’t have to run, yknow. i would’ve turned him down anyway.” you laugh, noticing deuce’s stiff movements.

“s-sorry. i guess i was just scared.” his dancing was robotic, missing his steps constantly. he stepped on his foot, but you managed to pick up the slack.

“ah! sorry!” he mumbled an apology, to which you grin in return.

“don’t worry, we can work on your dancing together. how about next week?”

“r-really?”

“really. consider it a date.”

“A DATE?! oh, i mean— sure. sounds good!” despite deuce’s attempts to seem calm and collected, he couldn’t hide the dopey grin spread across his face.

♦┊CATER DIAMOND˙∘✩

“so it’s true! nrc does have a student without magic!”

a startling shout from your right catches you off guard, turning to meet a rabbit beastmen with a huge smile. he wasn’t really wearing a suit, more of a vest. it wasn’t buttoned up all the way, but you must say he had really nice hair. looked so smooth.. “uh, tadaa?”

“what’s your name?” he asks, looking at you intently. “what’s yours?” you asked in turn, putting a hand on your hip.

“woah, woah, i asked first didn’t i?”

“well you initiated the conversation.” you shrug.

“alright, alright. im timothy parker, and you are?”

“[MC], nice to meet you.”

“i’ve heard so much about you from a friend of mine! we should get to know each other! have you played 20 questions?” he was a quick talker, you barely had time to reply before he talked about something different.

“i think ive played before.” you recall, nodding your head. “cool! ill start then!”

cater watched you, two drinks in his hand held firmly within his grip. he wasn’t one for jealousy, but something about this guy doesn’t sit right with him. his expression was usually so well hidden, but he couldn’t hide his frown. riddle took notice of cater’s dismay and raises a brow.

“cater, the drink might spill if you hold the cup so tightly.” riddle sighs, catching the attention of the boy beside him. “whoopsies! sorry, riddle! got a little distracted, haha!” he tries laughing it off, but that only makes him less believable.

“is something bothering you?” riddle questions, crossing his arms while looking in the direction cater was staring at.

“nope! don’t worry about it, cay-cay is fine!” he gives riddle a wink before walking towards you with a smile. “[MC]! heyy!”

you turn to see cater approaching, flashing a smile before waving enthusiastically. “cater!” timothy looks over, his smile faltering slightly at the sight of a new face.

“timothy, cater, cater, timothy.” you introduce them to each other. both boys stay silent for a moment before breaking the silence with a few casual greetings and fake smiles.

“hii! names cater, [MC]’s bestie!” cater hands you a drink, to which you eagerly accept. “hello. im timothy.” he replies dryly, much different than the way he greeted you.

the conversation flowed normally, though you chose to ignore their obvious distaste for each others presence. such cheery guys choosing to hate each other instead of bond, it made you kinda sad.

the music shifts to a slow song, cater immediately looking at you with a smile. “[MC], wanna dance?” he asks before timothy could, not failing to see his frown. cater put out his hand, gesturing for you to take it.

you felt your cheeks warm up. you put your drink down to hold his hand as he takes you away from the snack bar.

“isn’t this fun!” he beams, waltzing around with you. “i should take a photo!”

“if you do, you should send it to me. we can have matching profile pics.” you laugh, twirling him around.

“that’s so cute! smile for the cam!” he holds his phone up, snapping a quick photo of you two together. he posts it quickly, putting a string of emojis on the caption before putting his phone away and spinning you both around the room.

your smile means the world to him. it always will.

he didn’t want a viral post, he just wanted to keep your smile preserved for all time.

♣️┊TREY CLOVER∘˙✩

“boo!”

you jump, turning to find a floating head beside you. that head looked familiar. “che’nya?”

“meow how’d you guess?” suddenly, in the blink of an eye his full body appeared. his outfit was definitely not up to dresscode, lots of patches stitched onto an already brightly colored vest. it does suit him, but it feels like you were flashbanged.

“just a hunch. did you need something?” you ask, only to be met with his usual catlike smile. che’nya looked somewhere, grinning mischievously before averting his attention back down at you.

“wanna see a trick?”

“uh, sure?” and with that, he pulls out a deck of cards. he gestures for you to take one before suddenly changing the deck into a full tea set.

laughing in amusement, trey couldn’t help his heart from singing. why did his damn friend need to tease him like that? he clenched his fist tightly, feeling a little embarrassed for being jealous like that.

“trey-trey, let’s take it down a notch! che’nya’s just playing!” cater reassures his friend, patting him on the shoulder. trey sighs, adjusting his glasses properly.

“i know.. i shouldn’t even be jealous. it’s not like we’re together or anything.” he laughs awkwardly, making cater tut in response.

“don’t you see the way they look at you? when they bake with you it’s more than just being a helping hand, yknow?” cater crosses his arms, causing trey to stiffen.

“huh?”

“enough chit-chattt, let’s go join their convo!” cater drags trey to the snack bar, actively ignoring his protests and obvious refusals.

the melodies of slow violin play across the ballroom, students around beginning to slow dance.

“now’s your shot! go!” cater shoved trey towards you with great force. trey nearly fell to his knees but he managed to find his balance before he embarrassed himself.

“GAH!”

che’nya smirks, pointing behind you. “what?”

“trey?!”

“[MC],” trey puts his hand out for you. “may i have this dance?” a small smile hinted at the corners of his lips, you swore butterflies began to erupt in your stomach.

“it’d be an honor.” you take his hand, leading him away to the middle of the floor.

trey was surprisingly good at slow dancing. much better than that time with the ghost bride. “taking dance lessons, clover?” you ask, laughing as he averts your eyes.

“i’d rather not humiliate myself for a second time, haha.” he chuckles, swaying you around.

“i was honestly a little jealous seeing you have a good time with che’nya.” he admits, in which you burst into laughter in return.

“whys that? im sure you know he was just playing?”

“you can never be too sure.”

“don’t worry trey, this dance was reserved for you.”

“that’s reassuring to hear..”

A/N: names for these NPCS were harder than the actual fic 💀💀💀

date published: 11/27/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

divider found here! ☆

[canihaveacalmtime]

"Here's your hot cocoa, have a good evening!"

You receive your drink as you bow, thanking the employee and go outside to find a seat. As you sat next to a decorated christmas tree, you look in front of you and see a giant build board printed a familiar face on it.

Should you be proud to know that your memory is very good because you could recognize your highschool bully?

Probably not, haha...

You take a sip of your cocoa, thinking about what had happened in the past between the two of you.

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

It's like any other highschool bully story that everyone always read, during your first year, you were picked on by the richest and the most handsome guy in school and he forced you to do his homework everyday for 2 years. Tormenting you in the halls, drag you out whenever his mood isn't it, making you a laughing stock for the whole school.

But why only 2 years? Because everything went upside down for him when the last year started.

His parents had enough of him and brutally cut off his bank account, told him that either he learn how to work hard or he'd never get his hands on his father company. When he thought that his long time friends would still be there to support him through this, they quickly turn their backs on him upon knowing that he has no use left to them.

During the time he was at his worst, you stepped in and offer him a helping hand, telling him that you will help him with everything for this last year and in return, he must comply with your one request and can not decline.

He was wary at first when you suddenly did that but he had no other choices as there was no one else except you that would help him anyways.

And he was not disappointed for trusting you, you supported him through every single thing, improved his grades making him in the top 50 of the school, engaged him in participating in that model contest and also fulfil the role of being a friend that he can rely on.

When the school year end came, it was also time he hear your request. You couldn't remember much about anything other than what you said, you can't remember how the scenery looked like, what the principal was saying on stage, even the look on his face because after you said it, you left immediately.

"Let's never cross paths ever again in this life, that is my request."

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

You realized that your cup is now empty just like how the streets are also beginning to be, so you throw the cup into the trash can and walk home.

You wonder back to the times when you were teaching him the subjects, you would sometime catch him staring in an obsessive way at you but you didn't really care back then because your hatred for him was too much but now that you moved on, you wonder why he was staring at you like that.

"He also said something after I left that day but I couldn't hear what it was.." You mumble as you step out of the elevator to your apartment only to be greeted with a door that is not locked at all.

Your movements were hesitant, slowly, you open the door with cautious as you also carefully step inside your home. Right after you had closed the front door, a sudden sting on your neck send you off balance, fall into someone's arms and fainted immediately.

"Come get me at the apartment now." The tall figure said through a bluetooth headphone device on his ears.

Your bully smile down at you with a creepy smile, inhaling your familiar scent as he hug you close and tightly around his arms.

"You can tell me to do anything, give you anything, to die even. Anything but letting you leave."

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

After they said those words, my world seemed like crashing down on me in seconds.

I guess I have no other choice but to fulfil a different request from them in the future then.

"I shall have you in my arms when we meet again, love."

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

(ayy pov change :D)

[livinghalfway]

Magic Mirror

Summary: A magic mirror shows what a person desires most in the world. It shows Damian his twin standing next to him. Word Count: 1202

“Come on Damian, all you have to do is stand in front of it.” Dick pleaded with him while gesturing for him to step closer to the magic mirror they had recently obtained from a villain’s lair. 

It was a rather plain mirror as well for being a rare magical item; nothing but a full length mirror with a simple black frame. The only interesting thing about it was that it had the ability to show what a person desired most in life when they stood in front of it. 

Once that little trick was discovered the others had quickly jumped at the chance to stand in front of it. Which was foolish in Damian’s opinion; allowing everyone in the room to view your deepest desire. 

“Tt, I think not Richard; I after all already know what the mirror will show me.There is no point in me standing in front of it.” 

Before Dick can continue his beseeching his case though Jason cuts in from across the room; next to the mirror. “Oh yeah? What do you think would show up, Demon brat; you dressed up as Batman?” 

“He wishes,” Tim snickers next to Jason, “It’s probably gonna be something embarrassing and that’s why he doesn’t want to do it.” 

"Drake, if you know what's good for you you'll stop talking!"

Tim gives Jason a nudge with his elbow before loudly whispering, "That sounds like a conformation if I've ever heard one." 

"Tt, how dare-" Damian is quickly cut off from his incoming tirade by Dick jumping back into the conversation.

"Okay! Let's not start arguing with one another." Dick says to all of them before directing his focus towards him, "Damian, if you really don't want to try out the mirror you don't have too. No one is going to force you to." 

Damian merely rolls his eyes as he walks towards the mirror. The only reason he does so is because being Robin is what he desires the most; he knows it. Looking into the mirror will merely be about proving Drake and Todd wrong. "I'll do it Richard if only to shut these two imbeciles up." 

The moment he stood in front of the mirror waiting for the magic to change the reflection Damian knew that he shouldn't have let Tim and Jason get to him. He had done something foolish and there was no going back now as the mirror swirls with a gold shimmer. 

When the distorted image clears once more Damian swears he feels his heart stop. The reflection shown is not one a million years could have prepared him for. It is not him standing at his father's side, Batman and Robin, as he thought it would have been. 

Instead it shows Damian exactly as he is at the moment. He would almost think the mirror didn't change anything if it weren't for the boy in the mirror standing next to him. Even after all these years it was someone he would never be able to forget. 

His twin brother, Danyal, and him standing side by side once more. While Damian stands rigid and shocked, Danyal's posture is relaxed. He's even smiling as he leaning towards him until their shoulders touch in the reflection.

He doesn't feel it though; he wants to feel it. 

All of a sudden it hits Damian that this is what he desires the most out of everything in the world. The only thing he wants is for his brother to be alive and with him at the manor. With the family Danyal not got the chance to know; the family that doesn't even know he exists. 

In the blink of an eye the magical gold swirls take over the mirror once more, and when it clears it is once again just himself looking back at him. 

After what must be an eternity of staring at the mirror Damian realizes that everything around him is too quiet. He snaps his head to the side where his brothers are, and sees the three of them staring back at him. All of them are in varying degrees of shock and curiosity at what they had just seen. 

He considers lying at first. Saying that he had no idea who the boy was. He can't find it in himself to do that though. Damian had kept his brother a secret long enough; maybe it would be good for the others to know. "That Richard was my twin brother; Danyal." 

With those words Damian practically collapses on the nearest chair; feeling drained and exhausted. The others follow suit as they too take seats next to him. 

"Danyal … Danyal was kind. He understood people much more than I ever will." He takes a deep breath, "He was smart and curious. Always asking questions and wanting to understand everything around him. It was always the stars that fascinated him the most."

"Sounds like a good kid," Jason starts, "must have gotten all the friendly genes in the womb."

"For once I think I agree with you, Todd." 

The silence that follows is thick and suffocating. It is luckily broken after a few seconds by Tim's hesitant question, "What happened to him?"

That was the big question wasn't it? What happened to Danyal; to the twin and brother that wasn't with him when he arrived at the manor?

"Danyal … died a couple years before I came here. The two of us were attacked by a group of rogue assassins after our study lessons." Damian swallows, his throat feels tight, "I wasn't as focused as I should have been, and Danyal ended up taking a fetal hit meant for me."

"Damian-" 

"Let me finish, Richard." He snaps. He doesn't think he would be able to finish if otherwise interrupted. "Danyal was dead by the time he was finally brought to the pits. I knew there was a chance it wouldn't work, but I didn't think it would take him completely. His body was never recovered from the pits.I never got to bury my brother." 

It's when his vision starts to blur that Damian realizes that he's crying. Danyal always did have a way of making Damian show emotions that he would rather keep hidden.

He feels himself being pulled into a chest, and for now he doesn't fight against it. Damian's not sure if he honestly could at the moment. 

“Father doesn’t know about this.” Damian continues after a few minutes of silently sobbing in Dick’s arms. 

“He needs to know.” Tim states, “Maybe not today, but soon.” 

“You tell him when you’re ready, short stack. The old man can deal with not being told right away.” Jason reassures him when he doesn’t answer Tim right away. 

"What am I not being told?" Damian feels as if he's been dunked in water when he realizes that his Father had heard the end of their conversation. 

"Father."

"Damian?" Bruce takes in his youngest son's appearance and it doesn't take a genius to know that he's in some kind of emotional distress.Which in of itself is very rare for him to be in.

"Father, please take a seat. There is something I need to tell you." 

[spotsandsocks]

Had to write this it’s been bothering me!!

Give me a moment 2.6k

Eddie’s ready to go to Texas, Buck's ready to say goodbye. Then the conversation takes a surprising turn and Buck finds out the whole truth about what happened with Kim on the day that changed everything for them all.

The boxes are all piled up, ready to go and Buck can hardly look at them. If he’s told himself that it’s for the best once then he’s said it a thousand times. 

Despite that it’s the deepest, darkest most secret wish of his heart that this wasn’t happening but it is and he’ll just have to deal with it. It’s for the best. It’s what Eddie needs to do. It’s what Chris needs too. He can visit, FaceTime, it won’t be the same, he’s not stupid but he can survive. Probably. 

At least the house is just being rented out for now. At least Eddie has given him that much to hold onto. The hope that they might actually come back one day. It’s not much but it’s  something.

“I wish…”

Buck turns his head to Eddie’s voice. It’s the first time he’s spoken in an hour. They’re both lying on the floor, the couch is already in storage along with the other things Eddie’s not taking with him to Texas. 

“I wish, I hadn’t walked past that shop, that I never saw her. I wish none of it had happened.”

Buck looks back up at the ceiling. Right, her; Kim - Shannon mark 2. The woman Eddie lost his mind and his kid for. 

The woman who looked enough like his dead wife that he threw everything away for one more one more time together.  

The woman that Chris found in his house. 

Her. Buck wishes that Eddie had never seen her too, which is probably unfair to Kim. None of this was her fault after all. She’d  seemed nice enough when he’d met her at the station, after the shock of seeing the spitting image of Eddie’s dead wife wore off of course.

The likeness was remarkable with just enough differences between them to know it wasn’t really her. They’ve never talked about this, looks like they are now.

“I didn’t tell you but I told her about Shannon, about why I wanted to spend time with her. I showed her pictures, I said I was sorry.  That it was wrong. She was upset but I stopped it. After you talked to me, I realised I was being…” the pause last a while, 

“You know, I still don’t know what I was being or what I really wanted from her.”

Lifting himself up off the floor to rest on one elbow Buck studies the profile of the calm, still face of his best friend. It’s the face of a man who’s resigned himself to his fate. Eddie’s flat on his back, eyes closed lying in the remnants of a life he’d tried to build for himself and his son. A life that collapsed around him after one or maybe two bad decisions.

“When she left I thought it was over. I was relieved, thought it would be ok but then she came back.” 

If Eddie was looking at him he’d see the frown land on Buck’s face at that brand new piece of information. What does Eddie mean she came back? 

Next to him, the calm facade falters and Eddie’s face crumples, his feelings escaping in the thin lines of distress. Buck knows it’s just a weak echo of the distress he must have felt that day, made smaller, quieter by Eddie’s rigid self control. 

“She came back Buck and she looked…” 

It sounds like a confession, Eddie’s breath shakes on the way out and Buck’s heart beats faster. There’s something bad coming. Something he doesn’t know about.

A voice that doesn’t really sound like Eddie at all continues slowly, each word forced out. 

“She looked.. just.. like… her. She’d …” 

Eyes squeezed shut Eddie’s hand waves vaguely around his head. 

“It was a shock, it hurt to look at her. I said no. I asked her to go, to stop because…  because I knew… I knew it was wrong,  before I always knew she wasn’t Shannon but when she came back and she looked, like that…”

The pained look deepens, Eddie eyes open, glassy and full of unshed tears. It makes Bucks chest ache. 

“It was her. It really was.”

Unsure what he’s hearing Buck just tells the truth. 

“Eddie I don't understand what you’re telling me.”

The laugh that leaves Eddie’s lips is painful to hear, broken and hurt. It slices at Buck’s chest. 

“Neither do I. She was an actress  but I don’t know how she did it. The hair yeah, she’d cut it, dyed it and the clothes she’d seen those in the photos.”

An uneasy feeling stirs in the pit of Buck's stomach. Eddie’s not said anything about this before. He’d assumed… he’d assumed something very different.

“But she was Shannon… it felt like  I was looking at her, that she was right there in front of me.”

Again for a second his face shows the truth, before it’s packed away like all his other belongings. 

“She looked just like her Buck and I wanted to know. I wanted to know so badly.”

Chest tight Buck asks a question, worried he already knows what’s coming.

“Eddie? What are you saying?”

There’s no direct answer but the truth is bleeding out into the room and it’s making Buck feel more than a little nauseous.

“She was trying to be kind. Trying to help me, to say goodbye. Ask the questions I didn’t have answers to. I told her no, I said go, but I  I wanted to know why.”

The voice telling the story breaking Buck's heart cracks. 

“She, she was as close as I could get to knowing why.”

Then in a moment Buck knows will haunt him, Eddie’s sad brown eyes open and find his. The hurt in them is breathtaking, sharp and raw and enough to make him check he hasn’t actually been punched in the chest. 

With a hand held just above his aching heart, he clutches at the fabric bunched beneath his fingers to stop him from reaching out to his friend. He feels helpless, there’s no way to change what’s already happened to Eddie, all Buck can do is listen and finally understand the truth of what he went through the day he let Christopher leave.

“I just wanted to know why. Why didn’t she love me, why didn’t I get a letter. Why did she want to leave me twice?”

Blinking back his own tears Buck understands that he’s made a mistake. A big one. And probably not just him. He’d thought that Eddie and Kim had… but no, he was wrong about that. That’s clear now, the tears rolling down Eddie’s face, silent and helpless tell a very different story. 

continue on Ao3

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[rodanseys]

ok i finished my yearly reread of trc and i must say something!!! it is likely someone already said on the internet far before me, but i must say it!!!!

and that thing is how trb and trk mirror one another because of the inversion of adam and gansey's function within the narrative.

obviously, in trb, we see adam sacrifice himself to cabeswater. it is a huge risk, yes, but it's true to adam's character because he's willing to do what gansey isn't because he thinks choosing anything other than listening to gansey is freedom. as a result, he's the leader of the group for most of the series. the first thing gansey does when interacting with adam is ask adam a qeustion. adam is consantly called on over the course of the series to find an alternative solution when gansey can't- he even mentions that in his own monologing (i think in bllb). the gray man refers to the gangsey, as we all know, as "adam parrish and his band of merry men." in other words, he is the king, driven by duty, both that he cannot choose bc of his upbringing and that he chooses bc he can't understand what true freedom yet.

meanwhile, we see development of gansey as the poet. he's the heart of the quest, the person who believes in it to make others believe. this is especially true in trk, where its repeatedly pointed out that gansey can say things in his Gansey voice and making them true. this not only reinforces his place as the poet, but his own (and other characters') awareness of it.

so there's been established and really, really hammered-over delegation of adam as the king and gansey as the poet. then, in trk, we have the scene where adam is being taken over by the demon that's also taking over cabeswater. at the end of that chapter, he is able to regain control over the demon and separate it from cabeswater simply by saying his eyes and hands belong to him again- like gansey would. liek a poet would! his necesity to do this within the plot, the obviousness of him doing this as a chracter (he never wanted to be controlled, just gansey's equal, but he couldn't realize the difference yet) also means that he has moved into the role of the poet (and what could be more of gansey's equal than him becoming who gansey was within the plot?). this leaves the king role, as a narrative function, finally open for gansey to fill.

and it works because we've already seen gansey becoming increasingly anxious throughout trk. he's feeling this sense of power start to shatter, the fear of a life after glendower. but he knows he must finish what he started. how is this shown in the text? when he leaves in the middle of the night to find glendower- a literal repetition of adam leaving alone to sacrifice himself on the line. but, this time, gansey is the one to initiate. he's finally on his way to becoming a king, figuratively and literally. but then, we realize geldower is dead. and this is where this mirroring becomes so rich and fascinating to me.

but why? because gansey, after discovering glendower is dead, also discovers something contradictory to the way this story must go: "glendower was dead. gansey kind of wanted to live." the moment after he realizes it, he becomes so afraid of receiving pity because of his selfishness to live outside the bounds of responsibility thrust upon him. he never had that before. no one stopped him from searching for glendower, from being obsessed. he had the time, money, resources, and charm (unlike adam) to pull off this really kind of ridiculous activity. but, now, he finally uderstands what it meant to sacrifice and it brings up a vulnerability he doesn't know what to do with.

and guess who else dealt with reponsibilites thrust upon them that they didn't know what to do with? who was afraid of being pitied instead of respected as a response? adam! gansey's becoming more like adam. like the king! and the narrative literally acknowledges this: "for the first time, gansey understood adam parrish perfectly."

so, of course, like adam, he must sacrifice something to achieve the actual power of the king in the narrative. so he does. he kisses blue and sacrifices his life. and how is it written? "he fell from her arms. he was a king." he was a king!!!! he was actually a king!!! because, like glendower, he was dead. he couldn't be glendower (which is all he wanted to be- brave, respected, loved, remembered) without dying. because glendower died! and gansey wanted to live! but he couldn't. because he couldn't be who he wanted to be without also taking on the responsibility of what it meant to be that person. he never reallt understood this; adam always did.

i really appreciate this inversion because it gives precedence to their friendship on the plot level: both of them had to meet, to get to know each other, to fight for the plot to start. but then, they had to understand each other, to work hard to love each other, and actually end up on the inverted of the narrative in order to become who they needed to be for the plot to conclude. and it also reinforces another large theme of the series: time as something cyclical. gansey living adam's younger years while adam lives gansey's. that this was required for them to know and love each other fully and for gansey to come back to life and not "throw it away."

[ohithankyou]

decided to watch all of buck’s breakups last night and here are (part) of the conversations/how each of the breakups played out to compare and contrast if you so desire. i didn’t include the entire conversations because it would be too long and i think the parts i included capture the core of the breakups well enough.

note: information in square brackets is just some context i included since i didn't add the full conversations

buck and abby, breakup, 1x10:

[after abby’s mom passes and she books a ticket to ireland in an effort to find herself and what she wants]

abby: “. . .i care about you so much. you’re amazing. and these last few months, i think you've gotten me, at least halfway, to the person i want to be. but I've got to do this [go to ireland/travel] so that i know i have something to give.”

buck: “i’m excited for you. almost as much as i am, um, sad for me. i’m gonna miss you.”

abby: “i’m gonna miss you, too.”

[when buck is dropping her to the airport]

abby: "you're not gonna come in with me?"

buck: "i learned a while ago, you never go beyond the glass doors."

abby: "i must be crazy to be leaving you behind."

buck: "you're not leaving anything behind. you're moving toward something. and i'm gonna be right here when you come back, okay? go on. you got this, okay?"

abby: "take care of yourself, okay?"

buck: "you, too, abby."

buck and abby, ‘closure’, 3x18:

[after abby and buck meet for the first time since 1x10 when she and her finance are in a train derailment and buck + the 118 save his life]

abby: “. . .i just had no sense of self. i had to leave everything that i knew so that i could remember who i actually am.”

buck: “and you did, right? i mean, you did remember, but you still didn't come home.”

abby: “yeah, i know. i think i was afraid that if i came back, i would become that person again. because i missed you. i wanted to see you. but i didn't trust myself.”

buck: “because being here, being with me, you might lose yourself again?”

abby: “yeah.”

buck: “i’m glad to see you happy, abby. you deserve it.”

—

buck and ali, 2x18:

[after buck’s leg gets crushed under the fire truck and it hits ali what it means to be with a firefighter]

ali: “. . .look, it’s not like i didn't know you were in a dangerous line of work when i met you, you know, ten stories up of a collapsing high rise.”

buck: “exactly.”

ali: “that was one day. one day of my life, evan. it’s every day for you. i’m just starting to really understand what that means.”

buck: “wait, so-so you want me to quit my job, that's what you're asking me to do?”

ali: “no, i would never, i would never ask you to do that. listen. i know it's who you are. i’m just not sure. if it's…”

buck: “…who you are.”

ali: “hey. i don't know yet. okay?”

—

buck and taylor, 5x18:

[after taylor publishes the story about jonah buck had asked her not]

taylor: “. . .i’m sorry you're still upset about the story.”

buck: “you’re not sorry for what you did, though.”

taylor: “the story was gonna come out regardless. if i hadn't have broken it, someone else would have.”

buck: “you couldn't have called me first? no. you-you just, you figured i’d be fine. i’d get over it.”

taylor: “buck, i wasn't trying to hurt you or anyone else. i was just trying to get the truth out there. a truth the public has every right to know.”

buck: “this is literally our first argument all over again.”

taylor: “which is why we shouldn't be having it. you knew who i was when we started dating.”

buck: “i guess i thought i could learn to live with it.”

taylor: “i don't want to be something you have to learn to live with.”

buck: “and i don't want to keep on making the same mistakes. i need things to be different, taylor.”

taylor: “okay. i’m willing to try that. clean slate.”

buck: “yeah. just not together.”

—

buck and tommy, 8x06:

[after bucks tells tommy that he also dated abby]

buck: ". . .my relationship with abby was—it was the most transformative of my life. until now. look, i-i think one of the reasons that i am so comfortable with you is-is 'cause you're so comfortable with you."

tommy: "i wasn't always that way."

buck: "i know, i-i do. and honestly, it just makes me admire you more."

buck: "i want you to move in with me. i want you to move in with me. i-'m ready to take the next step. and i'm not saying let's get married or engaged, even though we would have the right, thanks to the brave people who came before, including you. all I'm saying is, why be apart when we can be together?"

tommy: "evan, that is so sweet but I can't move in with you."

buck: "and why not?"

tommy: "because, i know how this ends."

buck: "uh, wh-what's that supposed to mean?"

tommy: "look, evan. you're an incredible guy. big-hearted. hot as hell. funny. impulsive. but what you're feeling right now is... is new. and it's exciting, and it feels like forever. but you're still figuring yourself out. and that's good."

buck: "what are you saying?"

tommy: "i'm saying no matter how bad i wanted to be, i'm not your last. i'm your first."

buck: "well, hey, they-they can be the same thing."

tommy: "but they usually aren't. if i were to move in with you, you wouldn't mean to, you wouldn't plan for it but you'd end up breaking my heart. and i, i don't think that i could deal with that."

tommy: "i should go."

buck: "wait, wait, wait, hey, hey, um... wait, d-did you just break up with me?"

tommy: "yeah. i guess i did. believe me, i didn't see it coming, either. should've known that parking spot was too good to be true. i'll see you around, buck."

[volatilebrat4103]

Broken cycles and fixed bonds (Part 3)

The room falls silent, realisation dawns on Y/N, “Jinx?”  She remembers how her girlfriend had told her of her past, her mistakes, how she killed the mother of her sister’s girlfriend.  She didn’t mean to of course but it happened.  Caitlyn can only nod as she watches the tears fall from her eyes.  “I’m sorry Y/N” Caitlyn’s voice fills with sadness as she carefully treads over to her sister who is frozen in her spot, chest heaving as she clutches her shirt.  “A-and dad?” 

“He’s alive and well”  she sends a reassuring smile to her now fragile sister.  With this Y/N collapses to her knees with Caitlyn surging forward to catch her, letting her sob into her shoulder.  Caitlyn holds her close, trying to comfort her, the weight of their shared grief is palpable, and Caitlyn can feel her own emotions welling up in response.

After some time Y/N’s sobs die down to broken whimpers, she pulls back to meet her sister’s eyes, “I’m sorry smalz” she manages through her tears.  Caitlyn hand tenderly cups the younger one’s cheek, wiping away the never-ending steam of tears, “it’s okay, I’m sorry too” her voice soft and assuring.  “I know you’re only just finding out but please…don’t hate Jinx, I have a feeling you know what happened”  Y/N nods, her tears slowing down, “As much as it hurts I can’t hate her, I love her too much”  she buries her head in Caitlyn’s chest.

“You know, I remember the first time she told me about one of her biggest regrets…she told me how she killed the mother of her sister’s girlfriend” she sniffles before continuing, “I kept thinking it must have been painful to carry that weight, I kept reassuring her that we’ve all done things we regret, hurt those who mean the most to us” 

Caitlyn tightens her arms around her little sister, wishing she could take away all her pain.  “I mean hell, do I even deserve to mourn mother after all the things I’ve done?”  Y/N mumbles with a pang in her heart.  “Hey none of that” Caitlyn pulls Y/N’s head from her chest guiding her eyes to her own, “regardless of what you have or haven’t done, she was still your mother” Her tender hands cupping Y/N's face.

The two sit in comfortable silence, the occasional tear escaping but quick to be swept away by the other’s hand.  “Do you think she would hate who I’ve become?” Y/N whispers causing her sister to chuckle.  “No but she would loathe your appearance”  she tries to brighten the mood, eliciting a chuckle form Y/N. “Of course, ‘no scion of the Kiramman name shall be seen in public looking like a vagabond’ “ Y/N mocks drawing out a laugh from both sisters.  “oh how I hated her lectures on appearance” Y/N groans throwing her head back.  “And yet between the two of us you were always dressed elegantly”  Caitlyn teases, “Only to avoid being suffocated in dresses” Y/N shivers in disgust at the thought causing Caitlyn to laugh once more.  “Oh and don’t forget the hair”  Caitlyn chuckles. 

“She would be devastated to see you cut your hair so short”  Caitlyn smiles whilst running her fingers through her sister’s now short yet neat hair.  “I can imagine the lecture I would receive about it, something along the lines of, ‘a Kiramman woman must be elegant and beautiful, not run around looking broody like a man’” the two laugh imagining their mother lecturing them. 

The laughter slowly dies down, “She never forgot about you, even kept your room exactly the same”  Caitlyn spoke in the silence.  Y/N looks down, slowly pulling out a pocket watch with the Kiramman crest, the silver shining brightly against the light.  Y/N stared at it before carefully opening it revealing a family photo when they we much younger, “I never thought I’d be back here, I could always picture the look of sadness on her face, and it broke me time and time again.”  Y/N’s words were raw, her voice hoars as a lump formed in her throat.

She pulls her little sister in for another hug, her presence calming her once more. “You ready to go out there?”  Caitlyn gestures to the door, both women knowing their girlfriends we on the other side and had possibly heard the whole fight.  “Does it make a difference whether I am or not?”  Y/N shakes her head as Caitlyn gets to her feet offering a hand to the younger of the two.  “Now or never” Caitlyn continues, “Yeah, I owe her an explanation”  Y/N looks down sombrely, “She has always been so honest with me about her past, about what she had done…I’m a hypocrite”  Y/N takes the hand offered to her, rising to her feet, now standing almost a head taller than her sister. 

They head to the door together before exiting the room, feeling eyes on her Y/N looks up, Y/E/C meeting pink.  “Hey” Jinx says softly, stepping forward as she picks at her nails.  “Toots I’m so sorry I-“ Jinx is cut off with a chaste kiss. 

“It hurts but it was a long time ago, neither of us knew that it was my mother” Y/N reassures with tear glossed eyes.

Y/N takes a deep breath, feeling a sense of trepidation, glancing at Caitlyn who nods encouragingly.  “Maybe we should sit for this”  She leads them back to the small living room where they had all previously been in, taking residence on the small table whilst Caitlyn and Vi share a chair leaving Jinx to use the other positioned in front of Y/N.

“Do you remember what I told you about my past?”  Y/N asks Jinx, taking her hands in her own, fiddling with her fingers.  “I mean it wasn’t a lot just that you were different from your family and that you didn’t belong” Jinx’s hand reaches up to cup Y/N’s cheek to comfort her the latter leaning into the warmth. 

“Precisely, I am the second born Kiramman daughter, my mother is” Y/N pauses, letting out a sigh, “was council woman Cassandra Kiramman, Caitlyn is my elder sister however…we do not share the same father”  Both Caitlyn and Y/N looks to each other for reassurance.

“Many of the people affiliated with my family begun to look down at my mother, saying she was unfaithful.  It was plain out obvious that I was not human, after all what human child had pointed ears and a tail?”  At this Vi looks up confused, “Tail?”  she tilts her head as the other three chuckle.  “Yes, I have a tail, I prefer to tuck it away” Y/N smiles at Vi who nods in understanding.

“As I was saying, my birth had tarnished my mother and the Kiramman name, it wasn’t her fault but yet she had to live with the consequences” Y/N’s frustration grew but Jinx was there to dissipate it, her touch along grounded her.  “My father he…he forced himself on my mother and as a result I was conceived”  Y/N finishes looking down with tears in her eyes.

“Caitlyn was the legitimate child of the Kiramman blood line whilst I was the half breed baseborn”   Tears slowly escape with Jinx being quick to wipe them away guiding her to look her in the eye.  “It’s okay toots, I’ve got you”  she comforted with a small smile.  “I desperately tried to bring pride to our family name but I was forever the burden, don’t get me wrong my family loved me unconditionally, even Tobius raised me as his own, but it didn’t change the fact that whilst I was present my family would be shunned” 

“Y/N” Caitlyn chokes out, her heart breaks hearing how her sister truly feels, Y/N was always the rock between the two, always eager to support her sister in any way possible, the strong one.  And now, now to hear that her little sister was breaking truly hurt her. 

Y/N looks over to Caitlyn, their eyes meeting, “The only way to save the family was for me to disappear, make everyone believe I was truly gone.  And so I did…I faked my death and fled the city, swore I’d never come back” The room fell silent, the only sound being the crackling of the fireplace.  Caitlyn’s face was etched with pain and regret, her eyes welling up with tears.  Vi’s expression is a mix of shock and compassion, her eyes fixed on Y/N’s face.

Jinx slowly pulls her lover into her arms, Y/N quick to nuzzle into her neck trying her best not to completely break down. 

Other Parts

[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

Because some of you are far faster than I anticipated....

Here are the first few pages of next chapter/scrapped pages of the last chapter

WARNING: DO NOT READ THIS UNLESS YOU HAVE READ CHAPTER 37. I AM SERIOUS >:(

ETA: I did add a little extra onto the snippet as a 'sorry' for some of you ToT

She nodded and silently listened as the star gestured to the surrounding glowing trees. “When the order had been finally established, a primordial star decided to give up her spot in the sky, opting instead to stay on earth to guide the order and firmly cement its placement as the bridge between our worlds. It was a move that impressed the other stars, and to show their support for the newly found order, they made the Asterius that you saw in the market. One created and cultivated from the power of each court to symbolize its unity within the order.”

“Was there any particular reason why they chose a tree of all things as a symbol?” she asked, as she stared at the glowing trees, gently swaying in the night breeze.

“Yeah…but what’s with your tone? Trees are cool!” he frowned, almost sounding offended.

“They’re alright…but I mean why do stars take such interest in them if they’re practically everywhere? Surely you guys must have cooler things than just…trees!”

“We do but…Have you ever noticed that no matter how far into the heavens a tree can ascend it must always stay rooted to the earth to survive? It never forgets its origins, no matter how far or great it grows…” he smiled thoughtfully as his foot scuffed against the ground. “Isn’t that something?”

Asha slowly nodded, and turned her eyes upwards “Hmm I guess it does sound a bit more…fascinating when you describe it like that…but why do yours glow?”

The star hummed thoughtfully as he rubbed his chin, “Well, the short scientific and aesthetic answer would be bioluminescence to attract nocturnal pollinators. Plus you can always appreciate their beauty no matter what time of day. It makes the forests nicer, doesn’t it?”

She nodded in agreement, “It does. But what’s the long answer?”

“Well,” he started as he straightened himself. “I don’t know the details exactly but I think it’s also because of their connection to some greater network of energy both with each other and the world around them. One of my nannies would always tell me about it when I was little and couldn’t stop climbing them but it’s pretty convoluted if I’m being honest.”

“A network of energy…” she whispered as her eyes trailed the trees’ glowing roots. “Like your energy?”

“Something like that,” he shrugged before thoughtfully staring at the sky. “I mean they sort of come from our world…so I guess it only makes sense that they would act like that…”

“You know before you told me all of this, I never would’ve thought that something as simple as a tree could hold so much meaning in the grand scheme of things,” she confessed. “Sure there was the wishing tree, but that felt more like a relic than anything else…not some political  cosmic display of diplomacy…”

“You’d be surprised…there’s a reason why most Asterius made today are no longer created by all four courts…”

“They aren’t?” she asked, a bit taken aback as the star shook his head.

“No not anymore, not since Deneb’s asterius came into the picture…”

“Deneb has an asterius?”

“Most members of the royal star families and high-ranking nobles do…but few have a tree as controversial as hers….” he hesitated as if mentally debating over something before he eventually nodded and turned to her. “Asha” he stated suddenly as she straightened herself in sudden preparation. “You remember how when we were in the forest you told me that you knew that the crimson court hated Deneb because of your father’s writings, right?”

“Right,” she nodded, trying not to shift uncomfortably. Somewhere in the depths of her mind, she could hear the king’s voice whispering to her. She couldn’t make out what he was saying but she was too afraid to find out.

“Did your father ever state why?” The star asked, thankfully silencing the king’s muffled voice as she shook her head. 

“No…his master had been vague about the situation…but from what I could tell, it seemed as if the bad blood between the two parties was a little more extensive than just the courts…it seemed like it involved the council too…”

“It did,” Cepheus carefully nodded. “But did he say anything else?”

“Well…he theorized that it was the result of some act of defiance she did a few years ago that involved her children…you wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“I do,” he confessed. “I don’t know if you’ll like the story but I suppose for you to understand anything I’ll need to give you a few details…”

He gestured for her to follow as they slowly began to near the forest. “I’m not sure if I’ve told you this explicitly,” he started as the glowing trees and shrubbery began to surround them.   “but the crimson court and cerulean court have always had a mutual hatred of each other. They’ve led countless wars and battles against each other long before the order,  Deneb, and her children ever entered the picture.”

“Why?” She asked as she ducked beneath a low-hanging branch. “Was it differing philosophies? Scandalous love?” She asked the star who’d somehow managed to put a rather large walking distance between them. “Cultural differences? Why did they hate each other?”

He paused as if listening out for something before she finally made her way to his side, “Differing philosophies and a bloodthirsty competitiveness to conquer the galaxies,” the star frowned and abruptly looked away. Had…had he been ashamed of his court’s past? She wondered before he quietly continued, “Nevertheless it all seemed to come to a head when during one of these battles…the council, being as senile as they were, had grown both tired and indifferent to the constant fighting. So they decided to exercise their powers to ensure peace would prevail, one that, unlike their past attempts, could not be so easily dismissed…” The star sighed, slowly moving his hand as the air around his fingers began to glow a soft misty blue.

Slowly the world around them began to ripple, and blur.

She blinked, trying to rub the uneasiness from her eyes as her surroundings slowly began to come into focus as she looked around. They were still in a forest, that much she could be sure of as the familiar sight of large, thick glowing forestry greeted her.

But where the distant town of Banquo had once stood was gone, and in its place was a seemingly endless glowing body of water. 

Were they…at the beach? No this couldn’t have been the beach, at least not one she’d been familiar with. Her eyes traced along the light blue shoreline as she took one hesitant step forward before rubbing her eyes in disbelief.

The beach was glowing. Real beaches didn’t glow. But the feel of the calm sea breeze passing through her braids had nearly convinced her otherwise.

“Wait…” she started, looking around. “Is this another illusion like what you did with the scrolls?”

“Something of the sort,” the star smiled as he spoke from behind her. “Are you enjoying the view?”

She nodded, before looking around again, “Yeah! It’s…beautiful -,” her voice trailed off as she took in the sight of the star who’s skin was now a beautiful shade of cyan, while his hair was nearly white. 

Was this what a blue star looked like? She wondered, as she looked him over and over again.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been staring, but it was enough to earn herself an all too knowing grin as the star arrogantly extended a sapphire colored wing. “I was talking about the sea, but if you think I’m beautiful as well, and wish to stare,” he chuckled as another wing revealed itself. “then by all means, my dear-,” 

“What?!” She scoffed, before waving her hands dismissively as she looked away. Thank God her blushes weren’t visible. “Ha! No! No way! I was talking about the beach! Not you! It’s the beach that’s beautiful, see?! You’re just…blue!” 

“Mmhmm.” He hummed teasingly as his now gray colored iris seemed bright with laughter. “Well either way I hope you enjoy either view you choose to partake in….although I must admit asha…. That the sea, is unfortunately not located where your eyes are currently focused.” 

“I know that!” She snapped and sharply turned to face the body of water, hoping to enjoy any semblance of peace that she could get.

[shaiprsly]

𝐂𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐲 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 - PT.3

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Elvis Presley x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 1972. Fame, wealth, and the haunting allure of Elvis Presley—everything Y/N could ever want, except the one thing that really matters: a simple, normal life. Hired as the nanny for Lisa Marie Presley, Y/N is thrown into the heart of the Presley world, where she quickly becomes more than just a caretaker for Elvis's daughter. As Priscilla remains distant, Y/N steps in, offering Lisa Marie the affection and attention she craves. But it’s Elvis, cold and aloof at first, who soon becomes captivated by her. With 15 years between them, Elvis begins to blur the lines between professional and personal, showering Y/N with gifts and flirting dangerously. He may be married, but that doesn't stop him from wanting Y/N. Torn between duty and desire, Y/N must face the growing tension, knowing that giving in could shatter everything she’s worked for. Will she resist the King of Rock and Roll, or will his love prove impossible to escape?

𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬/𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Cussing, cheating, age gap (Elvis is 37, reader is 22), emotional manipulation. I guess that all !!

It’s 1 AM when Elvis stumbles through the front door, his movements a little unsteady, the weight of the night’s argument still hanging over him. He’s a bit drunk, the pills he took earlier working their way through his system, dulling his senses. The fight with Priscilla echoes in his head, her voice ringing in his ears after he kissed that fan for a photo. Every damn time he makes a move, she throws a tantrum, and he’s had enough of it.

He mutters under his breath, irritated, kicking off his shoes as he drags himself through the hallway. All he wants now is to see Lisa Marie. After the tension with Priscilla, she’s the only thing that brings him any peace. She’s the only one who hasn’t been a damn problem today, she's never been.

As he walks toward her room, his steps slow and careless, he’s barely thinking straight. When he pushes the door open, expecting to find his daughter asleep, he freezes in the doorway.

There you are, curled up beside Lisa Marie in her bed, both of you sound asleep. You’re still in your clothes, looking peaceful despite the chaos of the night. Your arms are wrapped around Lisa Marie protectively, and he can’t help but feel a wave of something unfamiliar when he sees you both like this.

He hadn’t realized you’d stayed the night, Priscilla didn't tell him, but seeing you there with his daughter—so calm, so natural—it stirs something in him. He’s always been guarded, always kept his distance from the people who work for him or his wife, but right now, looking at you, he feels something shift inside him.

He steps closer to the bed, careful not to wake you, and leans down to kiss Lisa Marie’s forehead. His lips brush against her skin, and for a moment, everything feels right. But then his eyes flick to you, and that strange feeling intensifies. You’re lying there so quietly, looking so peaceful, and something in him softens. He reaches out before he even realizes what he’s doing, his fingers lightly brushing your cheek.

The contact is brief but electric, and he quickly pulls his hand back, his heart racing. He doesn’t know why it affects him so much. You’re just the nanny, after all. But seeing you with his daughter... something about it makes him feel vulnerable. It makes him feel like maybe he’s been too hard on you yesterday, too violant.

He stands there for a long moment, watching you both, his chest tight with emotion. He’s not sure what to make of it, but he knows he can’t stand there any longer. Without a word, he turns and walks out of the room, his thoughts heavy as he heads toward the living room.

Once there, he sits down on the couch, grabs the bottle of pills in the pocket of his jacket, and takes a few, washing them down with only his saliva. His mind drifts back to Priscilla. Damn her. She’s always making things harder than they need to be, throwing fits every time he does something she doesn’t like. And now, she’s throwing a fit because he kissed a fan for a picture.

He leans back on the couch, rubbing his temples. She can’t even take care of their daughter without losing her cool. He doesn’t even know how to make her happy anymore. All he ever does is try, and it never seems to be enough. He thinks about the way she’d treated Lisa Marie earlier in the morning before they left—like she couldn’t even be bothered to be a real mother. It frustrates him more than he cares to admit.

Another pill, another pill, and another one, the frustration won’t go away. But for some reason, when he thinks about you again—how you were there for Lisa Marie, how you held her without hesitation—it doesn’t make him feel anger. Instead, it makes him feel... something else. Something softer. He doesn’t want to feel soft. He doesn’t want to feel vulnerable.

But damn it, here he is.

____

You wake up with a jolt, the quiet darkness of the house making you feel disoriented for a moment. The soft moonlight peeks through the curtains, and you glance at the clock on the wall. It's 3 AM. You look at Lisa Marie, still peacefully asleep beside you, her tiny body curled up in her blankets.

A small sigh escapes your lips as you slip out of the bed, careful not to disturb her. You pull your shoes on quietly, trying not to wake her up, and head out of the room. You’re still exhausted, but your thoughts are buzzing, wondering where her parents are. Are they home yet ?

You move down the hall and toward the stairs, the house still as quiet as a ghost. You can hear the distant sound of a low hum from the living room, and as you reach the bottom of the staircase, you stop in your tracks. There, slouched on the couch in the dim light of the room, is Elvis. He’s still wearing his clothes, the collar of his shirt slightly open. A cigar hangs loosely between his fingers, the tip glowing red as he takes another drag, and there’s an air of recklessness about him that makes you hesitate. The smell of smoke lingers in the air, mixing with the faint scent of whiskey.

You take a deep breath, your nerves on edge. He’s high, his eyes half-lidded, but he’s still awake.

“Mr. Presley?” you call softly, not wanting to startle him.

His eyes flick over to you, and he lets out a quiet sigh, but doesn't say anything at first. The way he stares at you sends a small shiver down your spine. Something in his gaze feels off, like a storm brewing behind his tired eyes.

“I should go,” you say, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “It’s really late, and you're back, so…”

“No,” he cuts you off, his voice hoarse. “It’s too late for you to be goin’ back home now. You stayin’ here.”

You can feel the tension building in the room, a mix of confusion and frustration. “But it’s so late. I don’t wanna—”

“No,” he repeats more forcefully, sitting up straighter on the couch, his hand tightening around the cigar. “You’re stayin’. Ain’t no point in goin’ home alone. just stay.”

You open your mouth to argue, but he interrupts again, his tone sharp now.

“Why the hell you gotta make everything so difficult, huh? It’s not safe out there, especially not now!” He stands up suddenly, his words slurring slightly, the alcohol and pills still clouding his thoughts.

The anger in his voice escalates, and before you can even register what’s happening, the room grows tense, the walls almost vibrating with the force of his frustration.

“No, I have to go home,” you insist, your own voice shaking now, but you stand firm, trying to make him understand. “Mr. Presley..”

He doesn’t listen. His patience is wearing thin, and in a sudden outburst, he shouts, his voice reverberating in the stillness of the house.

“Goddamn it, will you just stop?!” he yells, stepping toward you. “You stay right here, do you hear me? It's too late for you to go home alone, I'm not letting you leave at two in the fucking morning.”

The force of his words fills the room, and your heart pounds in your chest, a mixture of fear and disbelief rushing through you. It’s all happening so quickly. Before you can even react, you hear the soft sound of sniffling behind you.

You turn to see Lisa Marie standing just behind you, at the end of the stairs, crying and clutching her teddy bear.

“Daddy…?” she says in a tiny, quivering voice. Her lip trembles, and her eyes dart between you and Elvis, the fear clear in her gaze.

The sight of her breaks something inside you. You feel a wave of guilt wash over you as the tension hangs in the air. You know that this isn’t what she should be waking up to.

“Shhh, baby, it’s okay,” you rush to her, your voice soft and soothing as you kneel down in front of her, trying to comfort her. But she’s too scared to listen, the tears flowing freely now as she trembles in your arms.

“I-I’m sowy,” she sobs, her tiny body shaking. “don’t like it when you yell, daddy…”

You glance up at Elvis, who is standing there, looking furious, his face twisted with frustration. His anger flickers for a moment as he sees his daughter upset, but it’s quickly replaced by a quiet, bitter remorse. His eyes soften for a brief second, and he runs a hand through his hair.

But the damage is done. Lisa Marie is crying in your arms, and you feel helpless. You don’t know what to say, how to make things right in this moment.

“Mr. Presley…” you begin, your voice small. “Please, you’re scaring her.”

He stands there for a moment, the weight of the situation sinking in, and for the first time tonight, he seems to realize what he’s done. But he says nothing, just lowers his head, and walks past you two, going upstairs to his bedroom without saying anything.

You scoop Lisa Marie up into your arms, her small hands clutching at your shirt as her tears dampen your shoulder. Her sobs are soft now, but they still tug painfully at your heart. You carry her back to her bedroom, whispering gentle reassurances as you go.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here,” you murmur, stroking her hair as you settle her down onto the bed. “Daddy didn’t mean to scare you. Sometimes grown-ups get upset, but it’s not your fault, okay?”

Lisa sniffles, rubbing her eyes with her fists as she looks up at you, her voice trembling. “Why was Daddy yelling? he mad at me?”

Your heart aches at the fear and confusion in her voice. You sit beside her on the bed and pull her into a tight hug, rocking her gently. “No, baby, Daddy’s not mad at you. He’s just… having a tough night. But you don’t have to worry about that. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

She nods hesitantly, her head resting against your chest. You rub soothing circles on her back, humming softly to calm her down. After a few minutes, her breathing steadies, and the tears finally stop.

“Do you want hot chocolate ?” you ask gently, brushing her hair away from her face.

Lisa shakes her head, her voice barely a whisper. “No… want you to stay wif me.”

You nod, giving her a small smile. “Of course, I’ll stay. Let’s lie down, and I’ll tell you a story, hmm? How about that?”

She nods again, a hint of a smile peeking through her sadness. You help her settle under the blankets, tucking her in snugly before lying down beside her. She clings to your arm, her grip tight, like she’s afraid to let go.

“What kind of story do you want?” you ask, your voice low and soothing. “Something about princesses? Or maybe animals?”

Lisa looks up at you, her big eyes still glassy from crying. “you sing again? Like you did before?”

You hesitate for a moment, “Alright,” you say softly. “But only if you promise to close your eyes and try to sleep.”

“I pwomise,” she whispers, snuggling closer to you.

You take a deep breath, your voice soft and steady as you start singing “La Foule” by Edith Piaf. The gentle melody fills the room, and you notice her eyelids growing heavier with each verse. Her grip on your arm loosens, but her hand is still on it, and soon, her breaths even out into the quiet rhythm of sleep.

You sit beside Lisa Marie as her soft breaths even out, her little hand still loosely holding onto your arm. Sleep doesn’t come for you, though. The events of the night weigh heavily on your mind—the yelling, the crying, the tension. You glance at the clock. It’s barely past 4 a.m., and the hours crawl by as you stare at the ceiling, trying to push away your thoughts.

By the time the soft morning light filters through the curtains, it’s nearly 7 a.m. You carefully got up from the bed, making sure not to wake Lisa Marie, and sit by the window, letting the quiet of the early morning ground you.

A little over an hour later, you hear her stirring behind you.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” you say softly, turning to see Lisa rubbing her eyes.

She yawns, sitting up and clutching her stuffed animal. “Gwood mornin’. Did Daddy stop bein’ mad?”

You kneel beside her, brushing her hair back gently. “I think so, sweetie. And I have an idea, how about we do something nice for him this morning?”

Lisa’s face lights up, her curiosity piqued. “Like what?”

You smile, an idea forming. “Well, how about we make him some breakfast? Do you know what your daddy likes to eat in the morning?”

Lisa’s excitement grows as she claps her hands. “He looooves bacon! And pancakes! And coffee—he drinks it all time.”

“Bacon and pancakes it is,” you say with a grin. “You’ll be my little helper, okay?”

She nods eagerly, and the two of you head downstairs. In the kitchen, you let her stand on a stool beside you as you pull out the ingredients. Lisa insists on cracking the eggs for the pancake batter, giggling every time a bit of shell falls in, and you patiently show her how to scoop it out.

“Good job, chef,” you say, handing her a whisk. She beams with pride, stirring the batter as you fry the bacon. The kitchen fills with the warm, delicious smell of breakfast, and Lisa sneaks a piece of bacon when she thinks you’re not looking.

Once everything is ready, you set the food carefully on a tray—pancakes, bacon, a small dish of syrup, and a steaming cup of coffee. Lisa carries a napkin, beaming with excitement as you both head upstairs.

“Shhh, let’s surprise him,” you whisper as you gently push open Elvis’s bedroom door. The room is quiet, and Elvis is sitting up in bed, looking groggy but much calmer than the night before. His eyes widen slightly at the sight of the two of you.

“What’s all this?” he asks, his voice still rough with sleep but noticeably softer than the night before.

Lisa Marie bounces over to him, holding up the napkin. “made you breakfast, Daddy! Look, pancakes! And bacon! And coffee too!”

You step forward with the tray, offering him a small smile.

Elvis’s gaze shifts to the tray in your hands, his brow raising slightly. He looks... different—calm, almost like nothing happened last night. “Well, ain’t this somethin’. My girls takin’ care of me now, huh?”

“We thought you could use a good start to the day.” you say softly, watching for any sign of recognition about last night.

But Elvis doesn’t even flinch. He acts as if nothing happened, as if the yelling, the pills, the cigar, all of it, didn’t exist.

Lisa giggles, climbing onto the bed beside him, while you stand awkwardly by the door. Elvis notices and gestures toward the chair by the window. “You can sit down, y’know. You don’t gotta run off.”

You hesitate but nod, taking the seat. As Elvis takes a bite of the pancakes, Lisa watches him expectantly.

“Good?” she asks, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“Best damn pancakes I ever had,” he says with a small smile, making Lisa beam with pride.

For the first time in what feels like forever, the air in the room feels light—like things might just be okay.

____

Lisa Marie fidgets beside her father, suddenly pulling at his sleeve. “Daddy, I gotta go pee pee!” she announces loudly, hopping off the bed before either of you can respond.

“Alright, go on then,” Elvis says with a small chuckle, waving her off as she darts out of the room.

As soon as the door closes behind her, the air in the room grows still. You glance at Elvis hesitantly, fiddling with the hem of your top. His attention is on the tray in front of him, lazily stabbing at a piece of pancake with his fork.

Clearing your throat, you muster the courage to ask, “So... uh, is Mrs. Presley back yet? I wasn’t sure if I needed to stay again today.”

Elvis’s hand freezes for a moment before he sets the fork down. His expression hardens slightly, though his voice remains calm. “No, she ain’t back.”

You nod slowly, unsure if you should press further. But the way he avoids looking at you makes you curious—and worried. “Do you... know when she’ll be back?”

He finally looks at you, his blue eyes sharp but not unkind. “Probably not today. Maybe tomorrow. She’s stayin’ over at Sonny’s place.”

“Oh,” you murmur, his words settling heavily in your mind. “Is everything okay?”

Elvis leans back against the headboard, rubbing his temple as if the conversation is giving him a headache. “We had a little... disagreement last night. She’ll cool off. Always does.”

You hesitate, wondering if you should leave it at that. But his tone, combined with the tired look on his face, pulls another question from you. “Did it have something to do with why she didn’t come home last night?”

He snorts bitterly, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Somethin’ like that.” His gaze shifts to the window, distant now. “Priscilla’s got a knack for blowin’ things outta proportion. I kissed some fan for a damn picture, and she acted like it was the end of the world.”

You blink, unsure how to respond to that. The frustration in his voice is clear, but so is the exhaustion.

“Guess she thought makin’ a scene and stormin’ off would make her point,” he adds with a sarcastic edge, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly, not knowing what else to offer.

Elvis looks back at you then, his expression softening just a fraction. “Ain’t nothin’ for you to be sorry about. You just doin’ your job.”

You hesitate for a moment before adding, “So… does that mean I can go home? Do I have the day off?”

Elvis’s gaze flickers over you, his expression guarded. “If ya really gotta go, then yeah, you can. But…” He stops himself, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

Before you can respond, Lisa Marie comes bounding back into the room, her little hands clasped in front of her. “I’m back!” she chirps, smiling brightly.

You kneel down to her level, smoothing her dress. “Lisa, I need to tell you something,” you begin gently.

Her smile falters slightly, and her head tilts in curiosity. “What?”

“I have to go home now, sweetie,” you say softly, brushing a stray curl from her face.

Her face immediately falls, her big brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “No…” she whispers, her voice trembling.

“I know, baby, but I’ll come back soon,” you reassure her, reaching out to stroke her cheek.

Lisa’s little hands ball into fists at her sides, but she doesn’t say anything at first. When you stand up, she suddenly lets out a loud wail, throwing herself onto the floor.

“ NOOO ! Don’t go, Y/N!” she cries, her tiny body shaking with sobs. “Don’t leave me!”

You drop to your knees beside her, pulling her into a tight hug as she clings to you desperately. “Shh, sweetheart, it’s okay,” you murmur, your own heart breaking at her tears.

But Lisa doesn’t stop crying. Her little fists pound against your chest as she buries her face in your shoulder. “I don’t want you to go!” she sobs.

Elvis steps forward, his deep voice cutting through the chaos. “Lisa Marie, that’s enough,” he says firmly, but not unkindly.

She looks up at him, tears streaming down her face. “But Daddy—”

“No buts,” he says, crouching down to her level. “Y/N’s gotta go, but you’ll see her again real soon, okay? I’ll make sure of it.”

Lisa sniffles, her lip trembling, but she doesn’t argue further. Instead, she wraps her little arms around your neck one last time, clinging to you as if letting go would break her.

You hug her tightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you, Lisa. Be good for your daddy, alright?”

She nods reluctantly, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

Elvis places a hand on her shoulder, giving you a brief nod. “I’ll take it from here,” he says, his voice softer now.

You stand, giving Lisa one last smile before turning to leave. As you step out of the room, her quiet sniffles echo behind you, and the weight of her tiny heartbreak lingers with you.

____

You drive home from Graceland, the quiet of the empty streets mirroring the exhaustion you feel in your bones. Everything seems blurry—the night, the arguments, Lisa Marie’s tearful goodbye, and Elvis’s unreadable gaze. Your mind is racing, but your body just wants rest.

When you finally pull into the parking lot of your apartment complex, you don’t linger in your car. You’re eager to get inside, to shed the heaviness of the night. The moment you step inside, the quiet of your apartment welcomes you, but it feels different now—more like an escape, a refuge from everything that’s been happening.

You head straight to the bathroom, shedding your clothes from the day before. The water in the shower feels like a cleansing ritual. You scrub away the tension, the makeup, and the exhaustion, but your mind is still consumed by thoughts of Elvis. You think about his smiles, the way he looked at you when you brought him breakfast, the gentleness in his voice earlier. Even though he had his moments of coldness and frustration, there was something about him that was hard to ignore.

You step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your body, and stare at your reflection. You didn’t expect this—feeling this drawn to someone like Elvis. But you can't help it. His presence lingers in your mind, even when you try to push him out.

After getting dressed in something comfortable, you flop onto your bed, the quiet of the apartment enveloping you. Despite the bright sunlight creeping in through the window, you can’t fight the pull of sleep. It’s only 10 AM, but you haven’t had any proper rest after the emotional rollercoaster of last night and this morning. Your body, sore and exhausted, finally gives in, and you close your eyes, hoping to escape into the peaceful silence of sleep.

As you drift off, you wonder if Elvis thinks about you too, if he’s feeling the same pull. But for now, all you can do is let sleep take over, hoping for a few hours of respite before the day truly begins again.

To be continued...

tags : @pxpresley 🤍

[posting-for-the-void]

So a lot of twins claim to have a sort of twintuition thing where they understand each other easily and often without words, and sometimes have high-level empathetic reactions to things that are happening to the other twin, even if they don’t know what’s happening to the other twin because they are in different locations at the time. There’s obviously not a lot of scientific evidence to back it up, but, eh. It’s a cool concept.

But what if, for the Skywalker twins, the force just ramped that up to 100.

Fic-ish thing below the cut.

Five-year-old Luke is learning the Tatooine slave language. After all, Aunt Beru used to be Beru Whitesun, before she married Uncle Owen, and his mom was Grandma Shmi, who used to be a Skywalker before she married Uncle Owen’s dad. Beru helps the recently-escaped hide in the secret compartment in the wall of their house more often than Owen does, but he claims it’s for plausible deniability, whatever that means. Leia, on Alderaan, begins mixing the harsh, clicking language with Basic subconsciously, but only when talking to herself in private. After all, she is a princess, and they must choose their words carefully in front of others.

Leia at age ten argues with her cousin about whether droids deserve respect, and across the galaxy, Luke is absolutely overcome with the need to thank every single droid he’s ever met for helping him with anything (he did this anyways before but for some reason he has to do it again Right Now).

Luke gets to drive a speeder by himself for the first time at 13 and Leia is practically begging for someone to take her out in a hovercar and go as fast as possible. And if that can’t happen she’s going to get the space equivalent of a Formula One racing sim, goddamnit.

Seventeen-year-old Junior Senator Leia’s heart skips a beat every time someone mentions Tatooine. She isn’t sure why. Obi-Wan lives there, yes, but something in her just knows that isn’t the real reason. Luke, meanwhile, yearns to see the galaxy, and often finds himself outside at night, staring at the sky. His eyes, for as long as he can remember, have always felt drawn towards a specific star. He asked Uncle Owen about it once when he was younger, and he gruffly explained that it was the Alderaan system. He feels like there’s something there, waiting for him. He’s not sure why.

And then they meet in person, and it’s “You’re a little short for a Stormtroope—Luke?”

“Leia?”

“Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so. Can I hug you?”

“Of course, you idiot. You’re my twin brother. You don’t even have to ask.”

“Thanks, Leia. You know, I had the weirdest dreams when I was ten about you and Old Ben.”

“Oh, yeah, that was actually real. I got kidnapped.”

“Cool.”

“Is it true you got nicknamed ‘Wormie’ by your friends?”

“…Yeah.”

And Han is so confused, but it’s fine, and within two hours their conversations are more like, “Hey, Leia, could you pass me the—“

“Yeah, do want the green one or the—“

“No, the blue one, probably. I need it to—“

“Oh, yeah, of course, that makes sense.”

And then Yoda tries to do the whole “Attached, you are,” routine, and Luke is like, “Well, duh. I’m only here so I can teach Leia everything I learn as soon as I get back. I’m just a pilot, which is a lot more replaceable than a princess, so we thought it would be best if I come learn from you instead of her.”

And meanwhile Leia is a lot stronger in the force now, and she meets Vader again and just goes, “Darth Dad, what the actual fuck,” under her breath in the Tatooine slave language, and the hint of Anakin that’s left absolutely freezes. Because Palpatine—Sideous—whatever, he said his kid was dead. He said that Padme died and the kid did too. He lied. And, when he meets Luke later, and he says the same Sithspitting thing, Anakin gets so thrown he accidentally cuts the kid’s hand off. Luke falls, and the shock of it in the force is so strong, and Anakin’s eyes flash blue in grief and love and hope, all at once, and all of the sudden he can think clearly for the first time in years. And his kids’—his kids!—bond in the force is so strong, how did he not notice it before?

And, anyways, I just feel like Skywalker Twintuition would be on a completely other and incomprehensible level.

[marianasue]

sydcarmy truthers !

today movie is "say anything" :

you know why I will talk about it because of this :

the poster appeared in s3 , it was behind sydney .

please do not tell me it was casual putting it there in her presence ; and also the camera was focusing , on the poster .

anyway ; I believe that every single thing in the bear means or refers to something or the most important , foreshadow future events or guide us to the main story .

I watched the movie yesterday ; and found interesting things especially the dialogues .

so here we go let´s take it step by step :

first scene with llyod and his friends was hillarious :

take this :

llyod wants to take diane on a second date , but when he share his idea with his friends , this their answer :

"you never had a first date"

this is the case of carmy when he took syd with him to ever , it was supposed to be a "date" , not a real date but it seems like that .

the problem , that lloyd thinks that eating together is a date . but his friends can´t see that : that´s a date , it´s something normal everybody do .

and this is the audience of the bear reaction when carm invites syd to ever .

no one see it as a "date" , but in carmy mind , sitting behind syd and eating with her is kinda of a date (fun and enjoyement)

"a date is prearragement with a possibility for love "

so maybe everytime carmen asks syd to go with him to some events (dates) , storer is kinda telling us that in every date , there´s love growing between them .

like it´s impossible to go with someone to a dinner ,and just eat and leave : of course they will share talk , their bond will become stronger ; they will discover each other mind and thinking .

so , we must pay attention everytime carm asks syd , we will see in s4 .

llyod: "Then what´s love"

and what is love according to carmy ????????

llyod is searching about "what´s love" , the same question that struggle carmen and maybe we will find out in s 4.

second notice :

during the movie the characters using the words : purple and violet .

like it reminds me of marcus .

what´s the meaning behind this color , I know maybe because :

red + blue = violet this is the colors of sydcarmy .

plus : there´s purple flowers in the movie reminded me of that in the bear if you catch it .

and in the last scene , diane wearing all in violet :

and in her hat the same violet flower . this is when thy get back together by the way .

third notice :

llyod said when he break up diane : "I gave her my heart , she gave me a pen "

hhhhh , and who gave his heart in the bear , :

it´s gonna be carmy in s4 saying :

"I gave her my heart in a plate , she gave me her pen "

we know syd is always with her pen :

by the way these two scenes are so funny :

hhhh I believe we may see a same scene like that in s4 .

if you watch the movie , you will see the question that must be answered in the bear .

and this is lead us that the show is a love story in the end .

no matter they are trying to put syd and carmy apart or just friends .

it´s the same case with llyod when his friends was doubting his relationship with diane : like they litterally said , you can´t go out with diane , you´re two are not in the same boat .

but in the end the two became a couple .

the bear is love story .

if you wanna add something add it .

[wcnderlnds]

here for you | peter parker

・❥・ summary: after getting kicked out, peter comes to the rescue like always ・❥・word count: 1.1k ・❥・warnings: n/a ・❥・ authors note: this is my first time writing for my beloved peter parker!! its also the first time ive wrote anything in like a month. this was a request from this list. feel free to request any!

The rain was falling hard in New York City. It was one of those cold, rainy nights that had most people bustling through the streets with their umbrellas hurrying to get home. Unfortunately, you were one of those people. The heavy thud of the raindrops falling on your umbrella and the usual sound of the busy New York traffic were the only things keeping you grounded in that moment. The puddles on the pavement soaked your favourite pair of boots as you aimlessly wandered, suitcase full of belongings trailing along with you as you dragged it across the concrete. This wasn’t how your day was supposed to go. Your original plan had been to sit in front of the fire, cup of cocoa in your hand as you watched Love Actually. Too bad you had forgotten to pay your darn rent. 

Money had been tight lately. Balancing a part time job and university was no easy feat. So much so that you had ended up sacrificing your job for the sake of your mental health. You had thought your savings would be enough until you had a better grip on things to find another job but you were wrong. The well had run dry and after another missed rent payment, your landlord had kicked you out. 

When it rained, it definitely poured.

As you stepped into a particularly deep puddle, the familiar sound of a ‘thwip’ sounded above you. Craning your neck up, you spotted none other than the famous Spider-Man perched on a lamppost, head tilted as he looked at you almost like he was examining you. The corners of your lips almost tugged up into a smile as you imagined the concern in his eyes under that mask. Peter Parker had shared his secret with you almost the day he’d found out himself. You were his best friend after all – the two of you told each other everything. The eyes on his mask widened in questioning.

“Got kicked out,” you shrugged. Saying it out loud made it feel all the more real. Not that walking through the streets with everything you owned in a suitcase didn’t.

After checking to make sure nobody was around to hear, Peter spoke. “Meet me at my place. Gotta take care of something first.”

With that, he swung away no doubt on his way to tackle some crime. At least in a city like New York, Spider-Man was never short of something nefarious to keep him occupied. The whole city was like a hub for superheroes and criminals at this point. It was so much so that you were almost desensitised to it. Maybe that had something to do with the fact your best friend was one of those superheroes. Your feet carried you to Peter’s apartment, knocking on the door when you approached. No answer. He must still be out. A sigh passed your lips as you sat on the floor, back against the wall, legs stretched out in front of you as you waited for that nerdy, cute friend of yours to arrive. The raindrops from your jacket were dripping on the floor. Huh, you hadn’t realised it had been raining that hard. Probably too lost in your own thoughts. 

It was ten minutes later when the door to the apartment opened – Peter must have swung in through his window. The pros of being Spider-Man meant you didn’t have to deal with such meander things as walking. Sometimes you wished that spider had bit you so you could swing your way through the city without a care. His mask was in his hand as you stepped through the threshold, the door shutting behind you. His big, brown eyes looking at you with concern.

“I know you have questions and I’ll answer but I really need to get out of these wet clothes right now,” you cringed as you pulled your jacket off, your jeans sticking to your legs.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, sure, sure. You can… use the bathroom. You know where it is,” Peter nodded, his cheeks tinting pink at the mere thought of you getting changed in his apartment. He knew he shouldn’t have thoughts like that but he couldn’t help himself. Throughout the years Peter had somewhat started to develop feelings for you. It was something he beat himself up about every single day because there was no way you felt the same way for him. Why would you? You were incredible and he was… him. No, Peter would always keep this secret to himself. There was no way he was ever going to lose you so if it only meant friendship then he’d take it.

“You should have told me you were struggling to pay rent!” Peter exclaimed. Once both of you had gotten changed, you’d situated yourselves on Peter’s couch, a blanket thrown over the two of you as you filled him in on your situation.

“Peter, no offence but you can barely afford to pay your own rent let alone help me.”

“I would’ve found a way.”

A smile lit up your face, hand reaching out to give his a squeeze. “I know and I am so lucky to have someone like you looking out for me like that but I could never ask that of you.”

Peter’s eyes glanced down at your hand atop his, barely containing how sweaty his palm was starting to feel at your simple touch. He was down bad. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed down a gulp, shaking his head. “You know I’m always going to be there for you, right? Always. No matter what happens. I would do anything and everything in this world to help you and protect you. There’s nothing more precious to me than you.”

His words hit you straight in the feelings, your heart beating a mile a minute like it was about to burst out of your chest. The sincere look in his eyes, the way he always seemed to make you his number one priority – there was nobody who looked after you as fiercely as Peter did. Despite everything he’d been through with his family and losing Gwen, he had never let you down. The second your eyes met his it was like the whole world had stopped still. Your breath hitched, caught in your throat as Peter’s delicate fingers reached out to gently tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. His thumb brushed your cheek, the gesture making your stomach do flips.

“Stay here with me…. for as long as you want,” his voice was barely above a whisper.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” you leaned into his touch. The moment lingering between you, neither wanting it to end. There would be many, many more moments just like this one – you just didn’t know it yet.

taglist: @strawb3rrystar @decaf-mother @ldydeath @mistysconcilium

[lorynna]

Don't you realize that male and female are social constructs? They're ideas. Scientists don't even believe biological sex is a thing anymore, we're all just people. Gender is almost like religion, it can change, some people are really sure on theirs and others aren't, forcing someone into one is always wrong. Do you know why you're cis? Do you ever think about the possibility that you're not, about what it would be like to be something other then what you were born as. Would you still feel like a woman if you didn't have a womb, if you didn't have breasts or genitals or estrogen? It was a combination of contemplating these things, and mystical experiences with the goddess Hel that got me to realize I was agender. I thought I would lose certain things when becoming nonbinary and genderless, but I didn't. I don't know about you, but know you can be happy as an enby or a boy, you can be loved, and cherished and comforted as an enby or as a boy. I don't know if you're nonbinary like I am. You might find you really do identify with womanhood, but if you do really want to be a woman, then know that that's the same feeling amab women have. I know what it's like to think the way you do, I used to think that way, and I've had bad experiences with men and with the expectations society has for people with bodies like mine. But you don't have to take your pain and call it womanhood.

"Female" and "male" are two distinct sexes with distinct differences, set by science and based in reality - you saying scientists don't support the importance of sex is firstly wrong (i can see you've never read any papers written by anyone outside of your bubble) and secondly, very worrisome.

Nothing about sex is a "social construct" because the fact of being either female or male as itself is first of all: a completely neutral, innate and unchangeable fact.

woman = adult human female

man: adult human male

What society does when they attach sexist stereotypes, sex-based expectations etc. to a certain sex, like "a woman must be nurturing by character", "women can wear dresses and skirts, men don't", "it is not manly to show your feelings, you must be strong" etc. that is GENDER. I am a woman, so acording to the logic of gender ideology I must identify with society's image of what a woman has to be, has to do, act like and all of that to also label myself openly as a woman because that is what "identifying myself as a woman" means, right?

But guess what, wearing clothes from "the men's section", cutting my hair, playing football, defying all of those stereotypes does not make me male. Nothing could every make me male because I am born female (first and foremost) but the point is that being a woman or a man for that matter is just something you either are or are not. You don't have to identify with anything or be a certain way personality wise to "earn" any titles and you can also not be "stripped" of them.

Having a hysterectomy does not make you less of a woman / having to remove your testicles due to testicular cancer does not make you less of a man just like loosing a leg or an arm does not make you less of either.

Doctors need to know your sex to be able to accurately dose your prescription or to treat you with other things. Men and women can have different sex specific diseases, like ovarian cancer won't affect a man. If you walk into the doctor's office, both a man and a woman and tell him that one of you is pregnant, who is he going to do the ultrasound on? I wonder how he knows.

There are matters in this world where sex is always going to be important no matter how progressive we would become with discarding gender stereotypes. The gender paygap is sex-based. Do you think they ask you if identify as a woman before they decide to pay you less than your male peers? Female oppression is sex based. Do you think they ask the women in Afghanistan if they identify as a woman before they force them to cover up fully and never speak in public? When you walk into a clothing store, why would a woman head into the women's section? Same reason as to why she would not walk into the kid's section, the clothes there are made for women's bodies rather than that of a man. They have more waist space and are not as large. Could you buy unisex? Yes, but it will never feel as comfortable or look as flattering depending on where you want to go and want to look nice. Why all those differences? Because in this world it matters wether you are female or male. Just because you pretend that sex doesn't matter and that you can't differentiate a woman from a man does not mean the world can't. Ask a male predator why he knew exactly that his target was a woman and why her gender identity didn't matter to him.

Just like the women in Afghanistan, you think them saying they don't feel like women would save them? You cannot identify out of things like these.

I am going to reply to your question. Yes, of course I have thought about what it would be like to be a man in the face of knowing how female socilisation works. I mean, how would my life have turned out? Would I still feel like a woman if I didn't have a womb, breasts, estrogen and genitalia? Answer: Being a woman is not a feeling. Again, it is a biologic fact. No woman in this world goes around "feeling like a woman". That universal feeling you are asking about does not exist. You just are or you aren't. This is not a sensical question. Assuming you meant to ask that if I was suddenly turned into a man if I would still "feel like a woman" is just something no one on this world can answer to. If you were suddenly turned into a tree, would you still feel human?

Womanhood does not mean pain and pain doesn't mean womanhood. Unfortunately female oppression exists under the wings of patriarchy but trying to identify out of it does not help you nor anyone else. There are better ways of combating this.