#but the hashtag they never broke up crowd

[teeheeandhaha]

Malibu

Joost Klein x reader

summary: six months after the breakup with Joost you are set to perform at Eurovision, but there’s one thing you didn’t expect: he’s competing too. When you find out through a Eurovision Instagram post—after months of no communication from him about it—your emotions erupt.

a/n: let's act like you wrote the song Malibu by Miley Cyrus I've been listening to it on repeat and came up with this

♡-------------------

Months of preparation and rehearsals have led you here—to Eurovision. But you never imagined it would come to this. Starting out as a YouTuber and streamer, you never thought of yourself as a "real" singer. Sure, you’ve uploaded a few songs to Spotify, but you didn’t exactly promote them or talk about them when someone mentioned it. It was just a side project—nothing to make a big deal about. But now, here you are, competing on the grand stage of Eurovision with Malibu—a song full of memories you wish you could forget.

It was six months ago when you and Joost broke up. A mutual, friendly breakup. You were still talking, sneaking into each other’s houses when a party got too out of hand, drinking too much, and waking up in his bed. That was until three months ago, when Joost started talking to somebody else. You’d only met her once, and it didn’t last long—just three weeks. You found it almost comical how quickly it ended. But what stung the most was that he tried to reach out to you after, but you were done.

Joost sent texts every now and then—casual, almost like nothing had changed—but you kept your responses short. “I’m fine. Hope you’re good.” That sort of thing. Eventually, the texts stopped coming. You haven’t heard from him since.

But you remember clearly telling him about Eurovision. You’d shared your excitement, your nerves, how much it meant to you. You hadn’t expected him to be overly excited, but you did expect him to acknowledge it. To care. Instead, he said nothing. Nothing at all.

As you sit on the couch scrolling through the Eurovision hashtag, you freeze. Your thumb stops moving. You blink. There it is—Joost Klein. A picture of him with his name and Netherlands next to it, proudly displayed in the official post.

He’s performing.

Jesus fucking Christ.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you stared at the screen, your heart a mess of anger and disbelief. You’d given him space to move on—hell, you were moving on too, even if it didn’t feel like it most days—but this? This felt like a punch to the gut. He knew how much this meant to you, and yet, it was like he didn’t even care.

You leaned back, staring at the ceiling, trying to calm the storm inside you. Eurovision was supposed to be your moment. A fresh start. And now, Joost was part of it too, whether you liked it or not. The thought of having to face him, especially knowing he had kept this huge detail from you, made your stomach churn. 

The night before the first performance was always the wildest at Eurovision. Fans and performers alike were all gathered at the lavish pre-show party. Glittering lights, loud music, and the heavy buzz of excitement filled the air, everyone trying to get in one last bit of fun before the nerves hit for real.

You hated it.

You didn’t hate the excitement or the glittering lights or the music—it was the one thing you could never get used to. The crowds. The noise. The fake smiles and small talk. It was supposed to be a celebration of your hard work, but instead, it felt like a carnival of everything you wanted to avoid.

You’d told yourself you were ready for this. Ready for the competition. Ready for the performance. But tonight? Tonight, you just wanted to be anywhere but here. Maybe you should’ve stayed in your room, but your manager had insisted you come. Networking, they’d said. It’s good for your image.

Yeah, good for your image—if you didn’t mind pretending to be friends with people who were more interested in how many Instagram followers you had than anything else.

But there was something else nagging at you, more than the crowds or the fake smiles. The thought of him. Joost.

You hadn’t expected to see him tonight, honestly. With the way you kept your distance from him over the last few months, you figured he’d stay in the VIP section, ignoring everyone in the public crowd, just like he always did. But there he was, standing by the bar in the corner of the room, casually talking to someone, his broad shoulders leaning against the wooden counter.

Your heart skipped a beat. He looked good. Too good. Dressed in his signature style—slightly messy hair, and a casual yet sharp jacket that made him look effortlessly cool. It wasn’t even that he was just attractive; it was the way he carried himself—like everything was perfectly in place. And, that was what made you want to break something.

Taking a deep breath, you turned away from him, keeping your distance as you made your way to a quieter corner. No way were you going to let this night be ruined by him. You were here to make a name for yourself, not to fall into old patterns.

You needed space. The music, the laughter, the flashing lights—everything about the party felt like it was closing in on you. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight. Joost was here, in the same room, and you couldn’t avoid him any longer.

Grabbing your coat, you made your way to the nearest exit, slipping out into the cool night air, hoping to find some solace.

The fresh air hit you instantly, and you breathed it in, feeling a little more like yourself. The chaos inside felt miles away now.

You reached into your pocket for a cigarette, flicking the lighter open with practiced hands. You never used to smoke—at least, not like this. You’d occasionally share a vape with friends when they came over, or maybe grab a drunken cigarette at a party. But it wasn’t until Joost came into your life that the habit became real. He’d always be outside with his cigarette, leaning against something casually, as if the world outside didn’t matter. It made you want to be a part of it, too. Before you knew it, you found yourself lighting up as well, the action feeling strangely comforting.

You took a deep drag, the smoke curling into the night air, and tried to let go of the thoughts swirling around in your head.

But you weren’t alone for long.

“Hey.”

You turned to see it was Alanis—Joost’s best friend and one of your own, too. She gave you a tentative smile, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. Of course, she’d come after you. Alanis always had a way of showing up when emotions were running high.

“What’s up?” you asked, trying to keep your tone neutral.

She leaned against the railing next to you, crossing her arms. “You okay? I saw you slip out. It’s... a lot in there, huh?”

“Yeah. A lot.” You took another drag from your cigarette, looking down at it as if it would answer all your questions. “Why’s Joost here?”

Alanis’ eyes softened, a familiar look of understanding in them. She knew how this was for you. How it used to be.

She sighed, glancing at the party behind you before speaking quietly. “Eurovision’s been his dream since he was a kid, you know that.”

You exhaled sharply, flicking the ash off your cigarette. Of course, you knew that. Joost had never shut up about Eurovision. He’d talked about it endlessly, the way it had been his escape, his hope. For his parents, he’d always say, and every time, you would nod along, because you understood. You’d been there with him, supported him every step of the way. He had always dreamed of this, but now?

Now, the anger welled up again. The same familiar frustration you hadn’t felt in months. You could feel your blood beginning to boil.

“I know, Alanis. I know,” you said through clenched teeth. “But why the hell didn’t he tell me he was performing? Why didn’t he mention it to me when I told him about Eurovision?”

Alanis’ expression faltered, her lips pressing into a tight line. She glanced around the street, clearly uncomfortable. “He’s always had this... this fear of disappointing people. You know how he is. Maybe he didn’t want to upset you, especially after... well, everything that happened.”

You shook your head, frustration bubbling over. “I know it sucks. He should have said something, you should have heard it from him, but—”

“But what?” You cut her off, tossing your cigarette to the ground. “I mean, seriously? I told him how excited I was. I told him I was going to be here, doing this. And he says nothing.”

Alanis seemed to hesitate for a moment, her gaze shifting uneasily. “Maybe... he didn’t know how to handle it. Maybe he thought it would make things worse, or... I don’t know.” She shrugged, eyes softening. “He’s still figuring things out, just like you are.”

You turned away, running a hand through your hair. “I’m figuring things out? What the hell does that even mean? What’s left to figure out, Alanis?”

Alanis stepped closer, placing a hand on your arm gently. “Look, I’m not trying to take his side. But... Joost’s been through a lot. Eurovision’s the biggest thing in his life, and I think, for him, it’s not just about the performance. It’s for his parents. You know, the ones who never got to see him achieve this. He wants to make them proud. He’s always wanted that.”

You stood there, the weight of her words sinking in. You knew all of that—knew it intimately. You had heard him talk about his parents, seen how much their memory shaped everything he did. But that didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t told you. And maybe that hurt more than the rest of it combined. He had always kept you close, shared his dreams with you... but this? This felt different. And you were angry.

You stood in front of the mirror backstage, the weight of the moment pressing down on your shoulders. The buzz of the crowd outside, the excitement in the air—it should have been exhilarating. But instead, all you felt was the crushing weight of the tension, the gnawing uncertainty.

Your fingers hovered over the makeup kit in front of you, but your mind was elsewhere. You should have been concentrating on your look, but instead, your thoughts drifted to Joost. He was out there now, performing his heart out on the Eurovision stage. You couldn’t help it. You had to know.

You put down the makeup brush in your hand, wiped your fingers on a tissue, and made your way toward the small TV monitor at the edge of the room. A few other performers were gathered around, nervously talking to each other, but you ignored them, your gaze locked on the screen.

The familiar sound of the crowd cheered as Joost’s name was announced, and you instinctively held your breath. You could feel your heart racing in your chest, your eyes glued to the screen. You knew it was happening, but somehow, watching him step onto that massive stage made everything feel real.

With a deep breath, you turned away from the screen, trying to shake off the lingering feelings. There was no time for distractions. You were here for a reason.

The stage was a sea of lights, bright and blinding, but you hardly noticed them as you stood at the center. The weight of the microphone in your hand was grounding, the feel of the cool metal a subtle reminder that this was real. You took a deep breath as the first chords of the song played softly through the speakers. The gentle strum of the guitar filled the arena, and you closed your eyes for just a moment, letting the music pull you into the moment.

The audience was a distant hum, but your mind—your heart—was somewhere else entirely. Somewhere in the past, to a time when you thought you had all the answers, before everything between you and Joost changed.

You started the first verse, your voice clear but soft, the words so personal they nearly caught in your throat.

It was like a weird cruel joke that the universe was playing on you, you had three dancers up there with you two dressed in black suits and one in a blue suit an annoying coincidence that Joost was also performing in blue, You weren't ready for all the questions after the performance something your manager tried to help you through but now with Joost here it'll only be about your past relationship with him and being put on the spot 24/7.

After the performance, your manager noticed you staring, their hand lightly pressing against your back as they guided you through the maze of people. "Hey, focus," they said, trying to get you back on track. "Remember, this is your moment, alright? Let’s keep it positive. Let’s not get caught up in—"

"Do you think they’ll ask me about him?" You blurted out, cutting them off before they could finish.

They hesitated for a moment, clearly trying to pick their words carefully. "I can’t stop the press, but you don’t have to answer any questions you don’t want to. Just... stay focused on you. Stay focused on your journey."

But that didn’t reassure you, not when you saw the flashes of cameras and the reporters hanging around the edge of the crowd, eager to ask about the relationship that had been the talk of the town for months. The breakup. The tension. The fact that, once again, Joost was right there—right in the middle of your moment.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to clear your head. But it was impossible. Every time you looked around, you saw him. There, in the distance, talking to some of the other contestants. Laughing with the same easy charm you remembered, the one that used to make your heart flutter. It made the anger and frustration surge inside you, like a storm rising.

The reporters were swarming now, looking for their next headline. They zeroed in on you immediately, microphones and cameras raised high, ready to ask the questions they knew would get the best reaction.

"How do you feel about Joost Klein also being here?" one reporter asked, their voice dripping with a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

You could feel your chest tighten at the mention of his name, but you forced yourself to smile. "I’m focused on my performance," you said, your tone sharp, but not giving away the anger bubbling underneath. "I’m here for me, and this is about my journey."

But they wouldn’t let it go. They never did. One reporter pressed, “Everyone’s talking about your past with Joost, the way your relationship ended—do you think that affects your chances here?”

The words hit you like a slap to the face. Of course, they would. The press loved drama. They lived for it. And all you wanted was to be left alone, to exist on this stage without being reduced to your past.

Every question about Joost, every lingering glance in his direction, would bring the same pain flooding back. You could already feel the endless loop of questions that would follow you everywhere: Do you still talk to him? Are you getting back together? How does it feel to perform with the same intensity as your ex?

It was a sickening feeling. And the worst part was that you didn’t know if you were strong enough to shut them all down, to fight back against the narrative that everyone seemed so eager to write for you.

But then you caught yourself. You had fought so hard to get here. To this moment. And no matter how much Joost or the media tried to pull you back into the past, you weren’t going to let them steal your future.

You forced a smile, shaking off the bitterness. "I’m just here to perform. That’s all I want to do."

And with that, you took a step forward, your manager beside you, ready to shield you from the rest of the madness. 

The chaos of the press, the frantic energy backstage, the constant questioning about Joost—it all started to blur together as you took a deep breath. You needed a moment to yourself, a place where you could escape the circus of Eurovision. You hadn’t prepared yourself for the wave of emotion that came crashing down after your performance.

You stepped away from the crowd, slipping into a quiet corridor that led out to the back of the venue. The cool air hit your face as you leaned against the wall, closing your eyes and letting the silence engulf you. You’d done it. You’d given the performance of your life, poured your soul into every note—but that wasn’t what was consuming your thoughts right now.

It was him. Joost.

The silence between you and Joost was heavy, more so than you had expected. His face was inches from yours, the vulnerability in his eyes making your chest tighten.

You had hoped, when you decided to take a step outside for a moment of peace, that you wouldn’t have to face this. But now that he was here, standing in front of you, you felt the weight of everything you’d left unsaid.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You found yourself asking, the words coming out sharper than you intended. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here? You knew I was coming. We talked about this, Joost.”

He hesitated for a moment caught of guard by your directness “Im sorry.. I really am i shouldve told you” he said softly, as if trying to explain away the silence. "I thought it would be easier if I just stayed out of the way, gave you space."

“Staying away? Joost, this is a big deal! You talked about this all the time. We could've done this together!” You couldn’t keep the edge from creeping into your voice. Your pulse was pounding, frustration mounting as your words cut through the tension between you.

Joost’s eyes widened for a moment before a hint of frustration flashed across his face. He stepped forward, his voice rising slightly, his hands clenched at his sides. “Really? Three months, and you haven’t even tried to make a normal conversation with me. For three months, nothing! And what about the three months before that? Sure, our relationship wasn’t the same, but we were still talking. You’d sleep over at my place every now and then! Did our relationship mean nothing to you?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as Joost’s words hit harder than you expected. He was angry, and it was hard to keep up with his pace. But the frustration was bubbling up inside you, too. It wasn’t just the breakup anymore; it was everything that came after it—the silence, the feeling of being abandoned by someone who once cared for you.

Joost’s face fell slightly, the anger in his eyes fading, replaced by something else—regret, maybe, or guilt. “I didn’t know what to do! I didn’t know how to fix it... I was scared. I thought that if I gave you space, if I just let you breathe, maybe you’d want to talk to me again. But instead, you shut me out.”

Your hands tightened into fists at your sides, trying to calm your racing thoughts. “Space? Joost, you disappeared when I needed you. I didn’t need space. I needed you to show up, to talk to me like we used to. But I never heard from you. And when you started seeing someone else, I thought maybe... maybe I could finally move on, too.”

He exhaled sharply, taking a step back, his gaze shifting away from yours for a moment. “It wasn’t like that. It didn’t work out, and I didn’t want you to feel like I replaced you. I never wanted to replace you.”

“But you did,” you said softly, almost too quietly. “You didn’t tell me what was happening in your life, and it felt like I didn’t even matter. I kept waiting for you to reach out, but you didn’t. And then, when you did, it was only because things fell apart with her. It felt like you only cared when it suited you.”

Joost looked down at the ground, the weight of your words settling between you. He seemed lost, not knowing how to respond. His voice, when he finally spoke again, was quieter, almost apologetic. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I swear I didn’t. I just didn’t know how to keep going after everything that happened. And now... now it’s like everything I do, it just makes it worse.”

You let out a shaky breath, the anger draining from your body, leaving you exhausted. “Joost, I’m not asking you to fix everything. I’m just asking you to be honest. To stop pretending like I don’t matter. You had your chance to tell me what was going on, and you chose to stay silent.”

There was a long pause. Joost opened his mouth, but no words came out. His hands fell to his sides, defeated. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were talking to the Joost you once knew—the one who didn’t hide behind walls or silence.

“I didn’t want to lose you,” he said quietly, finally meeting your gaze. “I still don’t.”

♡-------------------

Pt2?????? 👀

[jlf23tumble]

Jen have you got any thoughts/headcannons about what was Louis’ “major fuck up” that he’s alluded to in multiple songs? Like Walls, All Along, Too Young, Always You, etc.

I...uh. What. I have so many of 'em, how could you NOT if you've read the lyrics to any, I mean, ALL of those songs??? it's not mysterious, not even a little bit lmao, jesus CHRIST, the pain, ouchhhhh

[uniquexusposts]

Another Love - C. Leclerc

Summary: Y/n and Charles broke up and Y/n preforms a heartbreaking song about their breakup. A/N: I don't know what this piece is supposed to be, but it popped up in my head. Every once in a while, I'm getting back to listening Another Love over and over again. Enjoy reading :) Credits: Tom Odell - Another Love

The lights dimmed as the crowd roared. Y/n took a deep breath as she took place behind the piano on the stage. She took a sip of the ginger tea and adjusted the microphone. 

Y/n L/n, a very respected and loved sing and songwriter, was preforming on one of the biggest festival stages of her career. Over the last seven years, she worked hard for this moment. She could finally say she made it. She should be excited about it, but she was feeling mild about it. Perhaps of her recent breakup. Her ex-boyfriend supported her during her career, like she did with his. And knowing she would about to sing the record breaking song, made her feel anxious. To many people it was a hit, to her it was her grief. 

Her hands rested above the keys and when she pressed them in, the crowd cheered once again. A smile grew on her lips, this moment was so special to her; this was the first time she played her new song live. This was the first time they heard the song. She began to sing, her voice steady, but underneath, a current of emotion ran wild. The words bled from her lips, each line cutting deeper than the last.

I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care... But it’s cold and I don’t know where.

As she sang, images of her ex-boyfriend flickered in her mind; the late nights, the laughter, the silences that grew between them until the distance was too much. He had been her everything. Until he wasn't.

Meanwhile, Charles Leclerc sat on his couch, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, trying to ignore the heaviness in his chest. It had been months, but somehow, everything reminded him of her. Her smile, her laugh; her absence.

A notification lit up his screen. A video.

Charles clicked on it, and there she was. Y/n. Performing on a massive stage, her voice piercing through the screen.

"Wait..."

He sat up straighter, watching as the performance unfolded. His stomach twisted, the lyrics crashing down on him like waves. It wasn’t just a song. It was their story.

On another love, another love. All my tears have been used up.

His breath hitched. It was all there: everything they'd never said, everything that tore them apart. The late-night arguments, the constant travel, the things they'd tried to fix but couldn’t.

He watched her, radiant and fierce under the stage lights, baring her soul to the world. And the world was eating it up. The video had thousands of comments, the hashtags trending, and every single one of them knew the truth he was now grappling with.

This song was about him.

Charles' hands shook as he tossed his phone to the side, as though putting distance between them would somehow ease the weight pressing down on his chest. But it didn’t. The song was everywhere.

Y/n belted the chorus with everything she had left, her chest tightening as the adrenaline surged higher because she heard the crows sing so loudly, mixing with the ache that had been there for months. The lights flashed, the stage seemed to grow smaller, and for a moment, it was just her and the song; a private confession laid bare for the world to witness.

I wanna sing a song that’d be just ours, but I sang ‘em all to another heart.

It made it more emotional because no one knew the song, she was telling to song, sharing her story. But mostly, talking to Charles. All Y/n could think about was how the love she sang about wasn’t gone. It was still there, buried beneath the layers of hurt and regret. But it was fractured, scattered across the months of distance between them.

By the time she reached the final notes, her breath was ragged, but she pushed through, finishing the song with a rawness that left the crowd momentarily silent before they erupted into thunderous cheers. Y/n’s heart raced, her chest heaving, and she could feel the sweat slicking the back of her neck as the adrenaline surged one last time.

The cheers were deafening, the flashing cameras blinding, but as she stood on stage, soaking it all in, she felt utterly exposed. She had given them everything; her heart, her pain, her love. And now, it was out there, a piece of her forever tied to the song. This song was over, and there were just a few more seconds left before the next song would begin. She smiled at the crowd. Even though it was tough, she was so overwhelmed by the reaction. That was why she loved to preform. 

Charles sat on the floor of his apartment, his phone lying face down beside him. He’d thrown it there after watching the performance loop for the fifth time. He couldn’t escape it. The way she sang, the raw emotion, the way everyone sang it along, the way the lyrics had ripped him apart all over again; it was like the world had caught a glimpse of his soul without his consent.

He raked a hand through his hair, trying to steady his breathing. But the notifications kept lighting up his phone; mentions, comments, articles already popping up about Y/n’s performance. He’d tried to ignore it at first, but as the hours passed, it became clear that the internet had figured it out.

Headlines flooded his screen:

“Y/n L/n’s Heart-Wrenching New Song Sparks Breakup Rumours with F1 driver Charles Leclerc!"

"Y/n Confirms Split with Emotional Performance—Another Love a Nod to Leclerc?"

Charles groaned, standing up and pacing. The media had already been circling them for months, speculating, whispering, but they had kept quiet about the breakup. Now, Y/n’s song had blown the lid off it. There was no hiding anymore.

He picked up his phone and sent a message to Pierre.

"Have you seen this? They're talking like they know everything."

Pierre’s response was quick.

"Mate, it’s everywhere. You alright?"

Charles didn’t reply. He wasn’t alright. He wasn’t sure how to handle it, but one thing was clear; he couldn’t just sit here and let the world spin this narrative. His PR team was already calling, trying to figure out how to manage the situation. But what could he even say?

[jomamaofficial]

You should have said something: Finale (Bakugou x fem!Reader)

A/N: HELLO BESTIES, IT'S YOUR *lmao I just realised I wrote sentimental here instead of CRUSTY here* CRUSTY TOE HERE. Now please, for the love of whoever's up there, PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. I'm not going to dawdle along because this was the finale you all were waiting for, so enjoy. Social Media & LinkTree & Discord Server TW: Very gruesome descriptions of: Death, Burning, Heavy cursing, Blood, Abuse. Masterlist Taglist: @spicy-therapist-mom @speedmetalqueen @silentw-lkr @loki-an-idiot @clickbait-official @captainchrisstan @kamalymaly @idk-sam @runrabbitrun3 @power-house-fan12 @mrslawliet @memeingcheetah27 @lonleyweeb77 @midnight-storm Word Count: 1743

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Sirens flooded the scene, police cars blinding passerbys. Ambulances rushed to the location, paramedics pushing their way through the crowd of people, the heat travelling the smell of iron across the streets of Musutafu. Firefighters reached the estate, dragging people away from the hazard, eyes gawking at the uproar of fire. The house was engulfed in flames, crying voices piercing through the ears of those who looked on. Ashes here and ashes there, belongings erupting into soot and red embers.

A body was heaved onto the stretcher, blood staining the white cotton.

“The heart rate is lowering, I repeat the heart rate is lowering.”

The static noise from the walkie talkie was merely another addition to the tumultuous screams and orders.

Wind ran through his hair, panic stricken over the nurse's face who ran as fast as her environment could let her, the heavy but precious, bleeding body straining her arms and staining her hands.

The door was held open, commands being barked at her.

The reporters bombarded her, obstructing the nurse’s view. She shoved past them; her heart hammered in her chest inspecting the monitor, her movements speeding up as she reached her destination. The body was rushed into the ambulance, attached to pipes and machines.

It was the last thing the public saw before the door was shut and the sirens fled away.

Trending headlines and hashtags spread like wildfire.

Masaru switched on the TV, his wife finishing up her dinner in the other room.

“I am now live at the Bakugou-L/N estate. Word from our information team has come out and the fire has been going on for twenty minutes, however these twenty minutes were enough for Prohero Ground Zero to be sent to the emergency room after a local found him covered in burn marks and injuries inside his already smoking house. Prohero Y/HN is nowhere to be found and all forms of contacts have been shut off. I am now handing over to Tanaka-san who is live at the-”

Switched off. Masaru sat there glued to his seat with his fingers pressing on the power button.

-

Hope came crashing down and you could only stare at the broken screen of your phone, tiny glass particles spewed on the floor.

Your skin was boiling up but your blood ran cold. Your throat dried up but your tears were wet. You couldn’t feel anything but his nails, digging in through the layers of clothing you comforted yourself in.

If you could go back in time, you would have. If you could stop yourself from dialing Izuku’s number, you would have. Anything, anything would have been better than this.

Silence. And you still had the urge to cover your ears. There was nothing to look at apart from your only form of communication. Everything else was black. And the traitorous phone that gave you away was dissipating as well. It faded away from your sight, leaving you a wide smile on your face. Too wide. Stretching from one cheek to the other, your lips were quivering, forcing it to stop. But it didn’t stop. It was getting wider and wider and it was hurting but could you stop it? No.

You couldn’t stop anything. Not this marriage, not this moment, not your own body.

He pulled on your hair and you couldn’t even stop the pain. He crushed your face between his hands, searing pressure building up in your skull and you still couldn’t stop him. He shouted and he screamed and it was slowly seeping into your skull how loud he really was. Nothing would stop. You couldn’t stop it.

You were useless. Your shrieks were useless because he drowned them out with his own voice.

His words were barely comprehensible. You could either focus on the warm blood trickling down your hairline, or him.

But that took energy. And right now, trying to stay alive was sucking all of the energy out of you.

“YOU FUCKING BROKE RULE NUMBER THREE, YOU FUCKING WHORE.”

Rule number three spiked your interest. Not because you remembered what it was. It only drew your attention to him amidst all the repeated curses and the names and the agony, ‘rule number three’ was something new.

Why would you understand rule number three though, you couldn’t even understand why you were smiling, giggling underneath your breath.

“And out of all the people you could have gone to”, he sucked in a breath, squeezing your cheeks. He could feel your clenched teeth fighting against the strength of his hold.

“You fucking went to that useless cunt Deku”, Bakugou spat out, a crazed glint in his eyes as he felt your face shake and crumble under his grip.

“Where is he now huh?” he scoffed, a breathy laugh escaping from the depths of his body.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT PATHETIC BITCH NOW?” Screaming once again, he activated his quirk, missing you by a hair. The flames mocked you, free to move, free to grow.

“Is he gonna come and get you now? See your precious ‘Izu-kun’ anywhere?” he derided, smiling at the blackened area his palms left on your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’M SORRY.”

Your tears said it enough, tears that were mixed in with the sweat and blood that dripped from your forehead. All you wanted was someone, someone who would hold you and stroke your head and clean you up. Someone who would take him away from you and let you live in a fantasy where you weren’t wrong anymore.

You apologized in the false anticipation that he would stop, and caress your face and pepper it in small kisses. You apologized in the false anticipation of thinking that’s what he needed all along. Just an apology.

So when he pushed you off of the sofa, your knees igniting in irritantance and bruises, you could only look at him. And when he crouched down in front of you, tilting your chin upwards, your heart almost fluttered at the thought that he would pull you into a kiss. A warm kiss where you would feel at home and feel loved.

The sad part was that you knew that you would forgive him if he kissed you once.

But the worst part was that you knew this would never happen. And it didn’t. But you were happy to live in your delusion. Because your delusion masked the sheer force at which he defiled your body.

The lethal blaze mirrored the lethal blaze that ignited his eyes. And this was the last time you’d ever see such hate, and animosity in them.

With your hands shielding you too late, all you saw was a blinding light shining through you, filling every crevice in your body with a scorching glow. But then it was extinguished by the darkness.

Alarms were going off in your head, telling you to breathe quickly and panic and scream and reach out and find something to see. And you did. And it entertained him.

So small and so vulnerable, scrambling around beneath him to try and escape. But he had you under his grip. And he wasn’t going to let you go until you remained lifeless under him.

Smoke infiltrated your lungs, forcing you to flail and writhe on all fours. You were heaving, trying oh so very hard to breathe in the oxygen that limitlessly surrounded you.

But you were useless. And you couldn’t breathe to save your life.

Coughing and slobbering, kneeling in front of him, you begged.

“Please, forgive me.”

“Please, I’m sorry.”

“Please, I didn’t mean to.”

“PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP. PLEASE JUST MAKE IT STOP.”

The fumes were stabbing at your throat, filling your head with fog.

And your world was running slowly. The noise was slowed, darker and deeper, slurred beyond understanding. The agony was slow; equally as painful, but slow. It gave you little breaks in between to piece everything together, bit by bit.

Growing up, your world was black and white: heroes were benevolent, there to serve the society and protect them whereas villains were malevolent, there to wreck the balance of society and harm them as they pleased.

Growing up, the first people you relied on were heroes. Even as the Number 3 Hero, Y/HN, you relied on your colleagues who worked day and night to ensure the safety of the country you served.

Maybe that was your downfall. Blindly trusting heroes as if they were some sort of untouchable deities who could never harm. Because here you were, taking the last few breaths with your world spinning around you and being snatched away from you.

And it wasn’t at the hands of a villain that you were dying. It was at the hands of your so-called superior, the Number 2 Hero: Ground Zero.

Ground Zero; the hero who everyone respected but feared. His snarl, his anger, his drive. The very hero who was found in every treacherous battlefield. He was the same hero who took on anything he found that threatened the life of the citizens he made his duty to protect from harm's way.

But who would take him on when he caused harm to you?

No one.

It wasn’t the smoke, or the burns, or the bleeding that caused you to take your last breath. It was the realization that no one would save you.

-

The pulse under Katsuki’s fingers diminished until it was nothing. And he cried. Veins standing out in livid ridges, his eyes seared in rage as they watered and dripped down his face, cooling his body in the circle of fire he put himself in.

If he wasn’t trained to suck his guilt up every time his hands were responsible for someone’s downfall, he would have been consumed in his own self loath…

But what was the point of feeling guilty when you deserved it?

It was because of you Eijiro broke up with him. And he internally promised himself he would always stand by this.

Blinking away his tears, he channeled all the remaining energy he had, letting his anger flow through out of his body.

His wrists were giving in but he swore it was the final time. Just one more blow. One more big blow.

Silencing his cries underneath the deafening roar of his explosions, he clenched his jaw, pressuring his body on and on.

No one would find you now. No one would know.

[peterparkerspooderman]

Spill your guts or fill your guts Pt2

A/N: This post doesn’t carry on from the first part. You can read it either way. I hope you all enjoy!

Summary: You and your ex, Harry Styles, are star guests on James Corden’s game show, Spill your guts or fill your guts. Questions are being asked and tea is being spilt.

Warnings: Sexual innuendos and sexual jokes.

Pairing: tom holland x reader

If the hashtags aren’t working please reblog!🙏

You rub your sweating hands together, shaking out the nerves backstage of James Corden’s show. You have been invited to be a guest star on Spill your guts and fill your guts, your heart racing in anxiety about what questions are going to be asked. With your head in the clouds you don’t notice your ex, Harry Styles stop to stand next to you.

“No need to be nervous, it will be fun.” Harry says, trying to calm you down a bit, his hands in his pockets.

You and Harry didn’t leave on bad terms. You both just didn’t feel you were meant to be in a relationship and stayed friends. You still talk to each other regularly and Harry was happy when you told him a year ago that you and Tom Holland got together.

“I’m just scared of what questions are going to be asked.” You chuckle nervously. Harry lets out a small smile.

“It will be fun, trust me. We’re just going to have a good time and if a question gets too much, there will be a disgusting plate food for you to eat instead.” Harry says sarcastically, a wide grin on his face.

“Hilarious.” You say, bumping your elbow into his ribs.

“Now won’t you welcome the stars of the show!” You hear James’ voice from behind the curtain, on the stage.

The stage curtain opens to reveal you and Harry, you both make your way to the table, waving and smiling at cheering fans. You and Harry sit opposite each other while James sits in the middle, directly facing the audience. The smell of the revolting foods makes you gag.

“Welcome y/n y/l/n and Harry Styles to spill your guts or fill your guts, a game show where you will get asked a question and if you don’t want to answer it you will have to eat a disgusting food that is chosen for you.” James explains, a mischievous grin on his face.

“Sounds great” You say with a cringe due to the foods that are in front of you.

“Amazing” Harry states, flicking his eyes over to you.

“Fantastic but before we begin I just wanted to clarify something. You two have dated before correct?” James asks, looking at both you and Harry.

“Yeah, we broke up a year and a bit ago.” You explain, looking at Harry for confirmation, he nods his head.

You hear the crowd “oooo” at the memory of you and Harry being the “Star Couple” in peoples eyes. You shift your body in the seat, crossing one leg over the other, your arms draped over them.

“Alright, let’s begin by showing the people what we’ve got. We have bulls penis, salmon smoothie, cod sperm, ant yoghurt, giant water scorpion, bird saliva, cows blood and pork tongue jelly and finally cows tongue” James explains, earning gags from the crowd and from both you and Harry while James turns the spinning table to show the camera.

“Alright so Harry will ask a question to y/n, y/n will ask me and I will ask you” James said

“I’ll go first.” Harry volunteers. James gestures to the table for him to proceed.

“Y/n, I will give you the cod sperm.” Harry says, you lean forward to smell it and instantly regret your decision, your hand coming up to your nose to block out the smell as best as possible but to no avail.

“How kind of you,” you sass to Harry, he responds with a smirk.

Harry picks up a card and smirks at you, oh no.

“y/n, is Tom a carrot, or a beer can.” Harry reads, the crowd and James gasping and laughing at the question, your eyes wide.

“My parents and Tom watch this show!” You exclaim. You look at the cod sperm and look at Harry, a shit eating grin on his face. You exhale. “I’d have to say he’s a Monster can, not a beer can.” You say so softly that if you weren’t wearing a mic, no one would have heard you.

The crowd gasp and whistle at your answer, Harry and James’ faces are in utter shock. You cover your face in embarrassment just thinking about how much trouble you’re going to get into from Tom.

The questions are asked and foods are eaten with gags coming mostly from you. A question that made your eyes widen and cheeks redden.

“Harry, what to this day still turns you on about y/n?” James reads. The crowd goes insane with gasps and murmurs. Harry looks at you then to the ant yogurt topped with scorpion.

“Pick your words very wisely.” You warn, not wanting to look if Harry chose to answer or not.

Harry takes a minute contemplating what to do. “On a scale of 1-10 how mad will Tom get if I say it.” Harry daringly asks.

“I would say a 7.” You guess. Is he actually going to say something? You never knew he still thought about you that way.

Harry clasps his hands in front of him before taking a deep breath before saying.

“I can take those chances.” He says, looking at your red face before adding “Her rosy red cheeks. It reminds me of what she looks like after-“

“Don’t finish that sentence” You cut in, not wanting to make Tom even more jealous and not wanting to let the whole world know what you look like post-sex.

Harry sends you a smirk, you face burning. James sitting between you two with his mouth hung open.

“I can’t believe you answered that” James said in disbelief. Harry just shrugs his shoulders, a smirk on his face. He spins the table, until it lands on the bird saliva. You gag at the sight of it. You shoot daggers with your eyes to Harry.

He picks up the card and puts it down after skimming it. His cheeks red and an embarrassed smile on his face. Oh no, what is it?

“Y/n” Harry reads, his face still red, your anxiety skyrocketing, “Who is better in bed, me or Tom?” Harry asks, his chest shaking while he laughs. Your mouth falls open, looking behind you for the writer of these questions but luckily for him, he’s no where to be seen.

“Your write and I are going to have a stringily worded chat after this.” You say to James, his mouth open in shock but letting out a loud laugh. The crowd laughs at your mild threat to the writer.

You look at the bird saliva, a whiff of it enters your nose and you almost throw up. Why are you on this show? You hesitate, the crowd getting excited due to the opportunity of you answering the question.

“I can’t answer that.” You exhale, thinking over your options.

“Then drink” Harry says arrogantly, his arms leaning on the table.

“I-I would have to say-“ you cut yourself off, the crowd booing at your change of mind, you give them all a shocked expression at their outburst. You contemplate again about what to do.

“I can’t believe this is happening, y/n, are you going to answer?” James asks in disbelief. Harry and you are probably the best guests he’s had on this show because of all the tea that has been spilt, what is another spilt tea going to do?

“Before I answer I would like to say that there is no drastic difference.” The room so quiet you can hear a pin drop. “I’m sorry Harry but Tom takes the cake for being the best.” The crowd erupts with shocked noises. James’ jaw is on the ground by how wide open it is and Harry’s face is red and embarrassed.

James closes the show for the night, shouting over the crowd.

The only thing that is going through your mind is how Tom will react to everything that was said and his monster dick.

[simsroyallegacy]

Princess Isadora Furious: Inside Princess Minerva’s Selection As Godmother

Lunarians were overjoyed this weekend to see Her Imperial Highness Princess Minerva attend the christening of Princess Magdalena after months of her recovering from her injuries in Pierreland. She captured our hearts during her stint as Ambassador from Pierreland and as the rumored girlfriend of our very own Crown Prince. Lunarians still haven’t gotten over the sudden switch from #Minicolas to #Nisa and if rumors are to be believed, neither has Prince Nicky.

Hundreds were invited to the christening of Nicky’s first child, Princess Magdalena, at Ancastor Cathedral yesterday from representatives of foreign royalty to close friends and family members; the most surprising arrival was most definitely the Pierrelander princess! Ever since the attempt on her life all those months ago sources close to both HIH and Prince Nicky have stated that both of them have rarely kept in contact.

“Nicky was terrified when it was announced that Minerva almost died – he rushed to the hospital to see her despite rumors of a terror attack by the same people who killed his mother. By the time his father had him brought back, he had convinced himself that it was all his fault, that it was dangerous for him to even be around Minerva. It gutted him to cut contact and by the time he even felt he could reach out our relations with Pierreland were so terrible, none of the royal family could contact anyone outside of official channels.” one of Nicky’s friends claims.

“Mins kept waiting and waiting for him to call,” one of HIH’s staffers told us. “But he never did. It broke her heart, even more than the pregnancy and engagement with Isadora. She felt completely abandoned and couldn’t function for weeks afterwards.”

It’s only been within the last couple of months that the two have gotten back in touch, starting with Nicky’s participation in Emperor David’s charity polo event in Pierreland. The two reportedly ended up meeting again after Empress Katalina, who had volunteered to watch Princess Magdalena during the match, left her in the care of Princess Minerva while attending to other guests. After bonding with little Maggie, the two are apparently back on friendly terms which brings us back to the christening.

(Above: An awkward reunion? Nicky, Minnie, and little Maggie photographed together after the polo match!)

HIH wowed the crowd of photographers outside of Ancastor Cathedral in another custom Sior dress, featuring hand painted silk, in a light blue color in honor of Lunaria’s flag (we noticed she matched Prince Nicky better than his own fiancée). She was in incredibly high spirits as she stepped in front of the gathered crowd, a noticeable difference from Princess Isadora, the actual mother of Magdalena. 

Dressed in a custom outfit by Castillian designer Fernando Perez, Isadora was seen ignoring both her fiancé and her young daughter. Not once was she seen smiling at or holding her little girl, more often than not outright glaring into the pram being pushed by Prince Nicky. After months of hearing rumors of Isadora’s less than enthusiastic approach to parenting, it leaves us disturbed to see that the stories are true. Staff have come forward with plenty of nasty tidbits about what goes on behind closed doors at Whiteglenn Manor. From statements about the Crown Prince’s refusal to leave the baby alone with her mother to her allegedly threatening to take the baby to Castille, never to see her father again, the public is starting to gain come serious concerns over the Castillian princess’ presence in both Prince Nicky’s and Princess Magdalena’s lives. The question is, why is she behaving this way? Apparently, it all comes back to Princess Minerva.

“It will always be Minerva,” a palace insider spilled the tea on Isadora’s bad behavior. “It’s why he chose her to be Maggie’s godparent. That little girl needs a strong female role model in her life and Watcher knows it won’t be Isadora. Minnie is the perfect candidate; she’s someone Nicky trusts and respects, loves even. He’s tired of pretending he and Minnie are strangers and he needs to keep her close – the christening is how he’s decided to do that. Isadora can whine, kick, and scream about it as much as she wants but it won’t change the fact that Nicky doesn’t love her anymore and probably never will again. Not after what he had with Minnie.”

If what our source said is true, then the initial engagement announcement claiming that Nicky and Isadora “reconnected” is most definitely b.s. and somewhere along the line, Isa forced her way back into his life (having his child out of wedlock is the perfect ploy to force him to marry you...). 

Isadora’s sour disposition at the christening and the rumors coming to light have left Lunarians fuming and coming out to criticize her all over social media. The hashtag #PrincessPissy has been trending on Tweeter for the last day, paired with many scathing remarks. One such remark from popular Tweeter fan account RoyalWatchAnon reportedly sent the Crown Prince’s fiancée into tears according to a member of Whiteglenn Manor’s staff:

“What does this hag have to be so unhappy about?! She has everything: Looks, a literal Prince Charming for a fiancé, an adorable baby girl, and a secure future! Her behavior is unacceptable and she’s dragging Prince Nicky down into the gutter. #PrincessPissy needs to grow up or at least have the decency to let Nicky go. We all know now they don’t love each other. #freenicky #Isasucks #LetMinicolasLive”

The head of Isadora’s personal staff defended her today, accusing the Crown Prince of “pushing her over the edge” by re-developing feelings towards his “just friend” despite initially promising to be committed to their future marriage, even if it was just for the baby. Isadora is now “left feeling like she’s been dumped on the curb” with Nicky’s decision to have Minerva as godmother. 

“How would you feel if the man you loved kept flip-flopping between you and the other woman? And then did his best to make her a permanent fixture in your child’s life? Is her behavior really that surprising? Someone should cut the poor girl some slack, she’s terribly embarrassed by his actions as of late!”

Does anyone feel bad for poor, abandoned Isadora? No? Neither do we! Being a part of a love triangle really doesn’t excuse her horrid behavior, especially her seeming dislike of her own daughter. Shame on you Isadora!

@officalroyalsofpierreland​

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Satisfied, Part 52

First

Previous

Next

~~~

Damian had set Riddler down in the pile, and now every single one of the bats was pacing anxiously.

Except for Jason, who was pointing his guns at the Rogues at random and interrogating them.

“Where was Joker? Has anyone seen Joker? Why isn’t he around? What is he planning? How had he avoided all of us --?”

“Red Hood,” said Cass, eventually, resting a hand on his arm. “They don’t know anything.”

“They’re his teammates! They’re supposed to tell each other their plans!”

Marinette tried not to wince, shoving her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket.

“Right…” She said slowly. “Right, so, we need to split up and find him.”

“He could be anywhere by now!”

Tim shook his head, looking up from his phone. “His name hasn’t been mentioned on Twitter outside of everything at the Gala. And there’s no pictures of him from the Gala. It’s like he wasn’t even here.”

The bats exchanged wary looks. Ah, that’s kinda bad. Joker stood out in a crowd, so the only way he could get away without people even talking about him was if he was killing them. Or, somehow, he’d found a way to hide out. Both ideas were pretty terrifying.

“We should split into tiny groups, partners or whatever, and look.”

Jason was at her side in an instant, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I call Ladybug!”

She rolled her eyes with a slight grin playing at her lips. “Sure, I’ll take Red Hood.”

Damian, however, seemed less amused as he walked over and tugged on Marinette’s arm in an attempt to pull her away from Jason. “Dad, I’m her partner!” He complained.

“And I’m her mentor,” was his retort.

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Kids, we don’t have time--.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “How about this: Damian, you go with them and make sure they don’t kill anyone.”

Jason and Marinette cursed.

Dick picked up his phone and took a picture of Bruce, then grinned and sent out a tweet. “There. Hopefully Gotham will pick up the hashtag and we can get Joker coming in this direction.”

“Does he have a Twitter?”

“He’d be insane not to,” said Dick with a shrug. Everyone looked at him for a few seconds and his face flushed as realization dawned on him. “I… listen…”

Marinette saved him from the imminent embarrassment: “Right, we’re going off in that --” she jerked her head to the right “-- direction.”

Some people yelled ‘good luck’ and others variations of ‘please don’t kill anyone’ as they hopped the wall.

Marinette shook her head slightly as they started off in that direction. “I can’t believe we were out for three hours.”

“Who knows what he’s done by now.”

Damian clicked his tongue. “Are we sure this is the right direction?”

“Well, unless you were somehow wrong about my location when I was completely still for over an hour, I’d say yes,” she chirped.

“And we’re assuming that he made a beeline for the Gala,” added Jason, though he didn’t seem happy about it.

“He did,” said Marinette. She had to at least pretend like she was confident, because Damian was looking anxious and she wanted to at least try and help him.

They hopped up onto the roof of the nearest building and split off to try and get a better look at everything.

She saw something out of the corner of her eyes and frowned suspiciously, pausing in her run and turning to look at it. It was late, Gotham was always well asleep by midnight outside of criminal activity. It was nearing 3 in the morning, no one should be out.

Her eyes detected another movement and she scowled, whipping her head around to look at it.

Cass and Duke materialized out of the shadows and she breathed a sigh of relief… then tensed up. She bit the inside of her cheek.

She briefly considered throwing down a smoke bomb but, hey, they probably knew where she was going anyways. It would only work for so long. Great. Time to talk it out.

“Heeeeeey...” She murmured awkwardly. She waved for them to follow and they all picked up the pace as they ran along the rooftops. “So… it’s not what it looks like?”

Cass raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Because it looks like you knew exactly what direction Joker would be in,” said Duke, sending her a tiny glare.

“Yeah, it’s not that,” she muttered.

Duke gave a slight laugh. “Alright, I’ll bite: what is it?”

“Chaaaance?” She earned two skeptical looks and she sighed. “Fine. I closed the portal before Joker could step through so Jason, Damian, and I could loop back around towards the warehouse after the Gala stuff and kill him.”

Cass nodded slightly. “And we can’t talk you out of it.”

It was more of a statement than a question, most things Cass said were, but she still answered: “Nope.”

The two sighed.

Marinette waited for the lecture, but it never came. Instead, the two broke off from her and helped look around for Joker.

She glanced to the side and saw that Jason and Damian were also talking to someone. Great, so it seemed that all the bat kids were there. She’d have to hope that her group could find Joker first, because she didn’t know how they were going to kill Joker if he had four people protecting him while he was also (probably) trying to kill them.

She slipped her fingers into her utility belt and she ran her thumb over the fox miraculous. She didn’t like the idea of using it along with the ladybug one, not so soon after what she’d nearly done to Penguin, but…

She heard someone touch ground beside her and turned her head slightly to see Tim, her hand sliding out of her belt.

He gave her a tiny smile. “Hey.”

She sighed. “Let me guess, Cass tipped you off?”

“Of course.”

“Does Bruce know?”

He shook his head slightly. “Nope, he’s still waiting for Joker at the Gala.”

She nodded. Good…

“Are you here to convince me not to kill him?”

He gave a shrug. “I probably couldn’t, to be honest.”

She nodded. That was true. Even if he gave an ultimatum, dating him or killing Joker, she would choose killing Joker. Even if she lov -- really liked him, the wellbeing of the city would always come first.

He sighed. “Right. I want us to work, so…” He tried to catch her eyes but she kept her gaze on the ground, glad to have the excuse of looking for Joker. “Could you promise me this is the last one? The last murder you intend on committing, I mean.”

She considered this for a bit.

“Because I really don’t want to have to Catwoman and Batman this relationship,” he added, his tone only half-joking.

“I don’t want to kill anyone at all, but this is really the only solution I could find. And...” She trailed off, her eyes narrowing in on the warehouse. She glanced around and saw that everyone was slowing to a stop. No one had seen Joker, then. The warehouse was their last hope.

Tim and Marinette skidded to a stop.

She looked at the sky and continued: “And… I don’t want you guys feeling guilty about the whole situation. So… go. Get Cass, Duke, and Dick and go. We can handle him.”

A hand slipped into hers and she smiled faintly.

“Hey, we’re all a family, right? You can’t do dumb stuff without us,” he said.

She finally looked over at him. “I mean…” Her eyes caught sight of movement over his shoulder and she sighed. “Okay, fine, you’ve forced my hand,” she said. She smiled faintly, gripping his hand tighter as he leaned down to kiss her.

And then she flipped him over her shoulder.

She heard two gasps as he slammed into someone, and they skid across the rooftop.

She whipped around and cursed the moment her eyes landed on Duke. Great, exactly the person she didn’t want to fight. She couldn’t beat him, she had found that out the hard way during sparring. He had this weird way of predicting her moves.

So she’d have to play dirty.

She grabbed a smoke bomb from her belt and threw it down. Smoke enveloped them and she ducked away to stop herself from coughing and giving away her location.

“Lucky charm,” she mouthed and barely avoided the giant cage falling from the sky. She glanced at the smoke cloud, and listened in for Tim and Duke. They were close together. Good. She channeled some of her strength as Ladybug and tossed it on top of them.

The smoke cleared slowly and they seemed to realize what had happened, running to the bars of the cage and struggling against them.

She ignored their curses. She had bigger problems.

She looked around.

Cass and Damian were fighting, which meant Dick and Jason were the other matchup.

She bit the inside of her cheek. Cass and Damian were pretty evenly matched, but Dick and Jason…

She sighed and listened in for any sounds…

There. The alley right next to the warehouse.

She jumped down and carefully, silently, poked her head around to see.

Dick was winning, and bad. He had years of experience on Jason, and it definitely showed. She hesitated. She didn’t know if they could beat him even if they combined their forces, but she decided that it was better to face him now than face him with Joker later.

Marinette ran into the alley and jumped on Dick’s back, wrapping her arms around his neck. He cursed and stumbled back, tugging at her grip. He dropped onto the ground, driving his elbow into her stomach. The air was sapped from her lungs and she instantly let go to cradle her stomach.

Dick scrambled off of her, only to get nailed in the head by a kick from Jason. He gave a groan and stumbled back, then shook his head as if to clear it. He rolled to his feet.

He looked between his two siblings for a moment, wiping some blood from his brow.

She launched herself at him, her hand coming up for a punch, only for him to flip out of the way. His foot came up mid-flip and slammed into her chin, sending her back a few steps. Her brain rattled around in her head as she stumbled into Jason.

The man cursed and took both of their weights. After making sure she wasn’t about to fall, he ran at Dick. The man met him head-on, grinning as he blocked his hit and slammed his foot into Jason’s side. There was a clattering sound and they both went to the ground.

Marinette managed to blink the spots out of her eyes and jumped at them, adding to the flurry of limbs. They all beat against each other (Marinette and Jason definitely hit each other a few times in the confusion) until eventually Dick managed to extract himself.

The three got to their feet and stared each other down. They were panting, bruised and bloody, and she was pretty sure they all had concussions. They didn’t even want to fight each other, not really...

But this wasn’t a subject any of them were willing to let go.

Jason suddenly rushed forward, slamming into Dick. They crashed through a window and, after a moment’s thought, she clambered inside the warehouse as well.

The two were rolling around, the glass-covered floors scratching their skin and suits, wrestling for the upper hand.

She looked around and grabbed the nearest item -- a board off of a window. She hit Dick in the side as hard as she could and he went careening into a wall. He slid to the ground slowly and didn’t move.

Marinette dropped the board and checked Jason over. It wasn’t good, but he was conscious and moving. She helped him to his feet and he gave a weak grin.

Only to hear laughter.

They looked around.

And saw Joker...

Who was holding a hand to Damian’s throat.

~~~

The fight scenes I write are progressively getting more and more technical. Don’t really know if this makes them more boring or more interesting but heyyyyy I have fun writing it soooo

~

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood @all-mights-asscheeks @demonicbusiness @meg-an-ace @fantasiame @qualitypeacepainter @multplelifes @kokotaru @spicybelladonna @ultimatetornshipper @cute-angi

<3

[mshermia]

Meet Cute - Webpril Day 12: Identity Reveal

summary: After Peter's identity is revealed, Tony's new favorite pastime is to tell the story of their first meeting to everyone that would listen. Repeatedly. Peter knows though, that the day Tony came to the apartment to recruit him wasn't really the first time they had met.

Or: Tony finds out that Peter was the kid at the Expo (tumblr prompt)

Read on AO3

###

It was safe to say that nobody had found more enjoyment in Peter's Spider-Man Identity being revealed than Tony.

Over the past few months since Peter's name had been everywhere from newspaper headlines to trending Twitter hashtags, Tony had used every occasion that presented itself to tell one story in particular. A story he had apparently been withholding from the world at great personal suffering.

"To be fair, I was a bit desperate for help so I had to move fast, but honestly..." Tony arched his brows with rehearsed ease. "...it's not like the kid was hard to track down. It was more like he was begging to be found."

It had been embarrassing at first. Well, truth be told it still was, only Peter had grown used to Tony's performance.

Tony sat up a little straighter, gesturing to himself. "I, of course, had been sitting on his aunt's sofa for the better part of half an hour trying to make small talk before Pete even showed up." With an exaggerated sigh, he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "On time for once in my life and the kid goes dumpster diving on his way home from school."

Thor held his stomach laughing, at Tony's antics or Peter's own face in reaction to it, Peter wasn't sure. Now that he took the time to look around the group, he did notice that there weren't even any new people present that Tony could try to amuse with the story. No, it was only the team and MJ still standing next to him. They had all heard this story before, but apparently, that wouldn't stop Tony either.

"Of course, you know me, I tried to keep things subtle—"

Natasha huffed out a laugh. "Yes. Don't we all know that side of him... Tony Stark, paragon of subtlety."

But Tony wasn't phased by her interjection, if anything he only raised his voice a little to be heard above her bickering. "I did the whole thing, staring at him intently, winking, as I was laying the foundation with the internship. The kid..." Tony laughed like he just remembered it for the first time. "He was just staring at me like all his dreams had just come true. Well," Tony smirked. "Can't really blame him for that, right."

While Bucky looked a little bored, Sam and Wanda seemed thoroughly amused to hear this story for the umpteenth time.

"Honestly, it was just adorable. His little bambi-eyes widened in awe, sparkling. That little smile on his face... like the sun had come up. It was precious." Tony sighed with overacted bliss. "I don't think even Morgan has ever looked at me with that much adoration."

"Jeezes," Peter mumbled. He sucked in a deep breath, trying not to roll his eyes.

"Hey now..." Tony pointed at him. "Don't give me that look. You know it's true. We were both there."

Peter scratched the back of his neck and met MJ's eyes with a shrug. It's not like she didn't know the story. She might have even been one of the first ones to hear it, years ago, long before the public had known about Peter's secret identity. That was back in the good old days when Tony had had a lot fewer opportunities to tell it.

Just then, Barton walked up, his eyebrows raised. "Man, you still not done? I've heard this story like 50 times."

Tony's head spun towards him. "Listen, for 13 years I had to keep this basically to myself!" He pointed at Peter. "That one should be thanking me for all those years of self-control. It's a miracle that it didn't burst out of me somewhere along the way revealing his big secret."

Rubbing a hand across his face, Peter tried to estimate if a trip to the buffet might take long enough to skip the rest of the retelling. He jerked in surprise as a hand clapped his shoulder.

"Don't feel bad, Pete," Rhodey sighed. "He's majorly embellished the way we met as well."

"That's not really..." Peter scrunched up his nose. "I mean, it's pretty accurate, minus the way he talks about how my 'bambi-eyes widened in awe' when I saw him."

MJ turned to him, eyebrows raised. "That's what you think is embellished? You still look at him like that whenever he enters the room."

"Oh, shut up," Peter mumbled into his drink.

As Rhodey broke out in laughter, MJ moved a little closer. "It's really cute," she whispered in his direction.

Peter frowned, stealing a glance at her. "Huh?"

"You know..." Her hand clasped his, their arms entangled, her voice still low, only for him to hear. "All his teammates had abandoned him, he was separated from the woman he loved, and then he found you and fell in fatherly-love with you. You were like..." She tilted her head a little, before the smile on her lips widened. "...like his life raft. And here he is, bragging about it in front of them. It's adorable."

Peter grimaced, eyes shifting back to Tony. "That's so not..."

He hesitated, not sure what he felt. Tony was just reenacting the part of the story when he had found Peter's suit hidden in the hatch on the ceiling of his bedroom. There was something about the broad smile on Tony's face that Peter couldn't argue away.

"It's adorable," MJ repeated, squeezing his hand.

"Yeah, well..." Maybe... maybe she wasn't wrong. There was something about how much Tony seemed to love to tell the story, not even just when Peter was around. At one dinner party, Peter had walked in on a group of research assistants clinging to every one of Tony's words while he was already in the middle of telling the story. And as much as Tony tried to make it sound like a joke, his eyes were always soft, the smile on his face genuine.

No, MJ wasn't wrong. And Peter couldn't deny that he too enjoyed that part. Not the story, really, but the sense of enjoyment as he watched Tony's animated gesturing. As he watched how content Tony seemed, telling it.

He shrugged. "Yeah, well that might be the reason, I haven't said anything about how this wasn't even the first time we met." 

"Wait a second," Steve called out so loudly, it didn't just stop Tony but every other conversion in the room. He pointed at Peter. "You're telling me I've had to listen to a story that has Tony fawning over how much his kid fawns over him for like 10 times and it's not even true?"

"Er..." Peter's eyes went wide, painfully aware that the attention of the room was suddenly squarely on him. Super-senses were really no fun when you were on this end of it. "I mean, it's just.... I was definitely surprised to see him then..."

"Underoos!" Tony's hand clutched his heart, but his eyes sparkled with humor. "There's no shame in your adoration for your old man. You don't have to lie about how much it meant to you to meet me!"

His lips pursed, cheeks a little hot, Peter shook his head in irritation.

Rhodey frowned at him. "Wait, so you're saying it did happen like that?"

"I mean, yeah..." Peter shrugged, avoiding Tony's eyes. "It's just not like it was the first time I had ever laid eyes on him or whatever."

Next to him, MJ gasped. "Oh please, please tell me that it was at like an autographing session that you camped out in line for!"

"No..." Peter scratched his head.

"Go on, go on." Clint leaned a little towards him now, waving for Peter to continue. "I do want to hear that story!"

Peter's eyes flickered over at Tony but his face had gone blank. He didn't remember. Of course, he didn't. Peter had never expected him to. It had been a long time ago and it would be absurd to think that Tony could have picked him out from a crowd of people like that, that he could remember with all the people he had saved over the years. Peter bit the inside of his cheeks. It wasn't even a great story. In fact, objectively they hadn't met-met then just like... stood close to each other. It didn't even really count and—

"Hey, stop..."

Pulled out of his spiraling thoughts by Tony, Peter looked up, finding everyone's eyes still on himself.

"It's okay, kid." Tony's voice was surprisingly soft. "It's nobody's business, okay? And you..." He pointed at Natasha, no trace of the softness now. "Stop giggling like that, will you?"

"Oh, come on, you're just worried you made an ass of yourself." She leaned back in her chair, head cocked to the side.

"He didn't," Peter swallowed hard. "It wasn't like that, just..." MJ shifted next to him, her hand slipping back into his. "It was just a long time ago and..." He blinked up at Tony. "You wouldn't remember. It's fine. It's not a big deal. Your story is... is a lot more amusing and..."

But Peter still had the room's full attention on him, some eyes now narrowed, some eyebrows raised. His face had only grown hotter to the point that Peter could feel the heat in the tip of his ears.

"Well, erm..." He grimaced, giving in after all. "You, er... you remember the Stark Expo? Few... few years ago."

"Oh, do I..." Rhodey groaned.

"Yeah, well..." Peter struggled not to trip over his own words. "It was that. I... erm... I was there with my uncle and... and that's where I saw Tony for the first time."

There was a moment of silence.

"Yeah, no," Clint called out. "Doesn't count."

"Stop!" Natasha signaled for him to be quiet, then pointed at Peter. "You said met. So, did you see him or did you meet him?"

Peter blew out a low breath. "I mean... it was just... there was a whole lot of stuff going on with Hammer's soldier thing-ys and then stuff started to explode—"

"Hold up." Rhodey sat up straight all of a sudden. "That's the day you were at the Expo with your uncle? The night Vanko tried his little revolt?"

"That wasn't a revolt," Tony interjected, his face a little paler. "He made a bit of a scene, that's all."

Rhodey huffed, then mumbled, "Don't let Pepper hear you call it that."

But Tony's attention was squarely on Peter, along with everyone else's. "You were at the park that night?"

"Wasn't that in like..." Clint looked over at Natasha. "Like, in '09? Or '10?" His eyebrows raised, his gaze shifted back to Peter. "Weren't you like 5 then?"

Peter pulled in a long breath. No longer getting flustered by the other Avengers had taken him some time to learn but now, he had almost mastered it. "I was 8, actually."

Waving both his arms, Rhodey signaled for him to stop. "Let me get this straight. You met him during the attack? But Tony was—" Rhodey stopped himself, then cast a glance at Tony in turn. "That must have been during the evacuation?"

Tony didn't react at all though. He was still looking right at Peter, just sitting there almost eerily quiet.

"Yeah, well..." Peter cringed at the memory. He hadn't even realized then how real it had truly been. It had all seemed like part of the show. "Things got a little crazy and people started running. I lost Ben for a bit." It was easier looking at Rhodey, like he was speaking just to him, not a whole room full of Avengers, including Tony. "One of Hammer's drones landed right where I was standing and then Tony swooped in, came to stand right next to me, and blew that thing to smithereens."

Nobody had to know that Peter had thought it was just a show, raving to Ben about it all the way home.

There was a beat of silence until Clint slapped both his thighs and burst with laughter. "Oh god, that's epic."

Just like that, the rest of the group joined in, exchanging laughs and looks of disbelief.

Steve held out his hands in a futile attempt to shush the chatter and hearty laughter. "That can't be everything. You're trying to tell us, there was nothing dazzlingly smart-ass he said?"

"Well, actually," Peter bit his lip. "He said 'nice one, kid' and then just flew off."

Spluttering with amused laughter, Steve turned to Tony. "Do you even remember that?"

Carefully, Peter glanced over at Tony as well, finding his eyes still waiting. "Hey, if I had a list of all the heroic deeds I've done..." He shrugged, lips pulled into an crooked smile but Peter knew him well enough to recognize that it didn't hold the same ease as it had before.

With a couple more quips from Thor and Clint, the mood in the room quickly shifted back to it's prior camaraderie, but Peter didn't miss it when Tony got up. Without any fuss, he gestured to the door that led out to the balcony. Peter gave MJ's hand a soft squeeze before he followed Tony out there. It was a balmy late August night, the air so much purer, the sky a lot prettier than it was in the city.

Tony had his arms braced against the balustrade, looking up there with the serenity like they hadn't once see space up close and personal.

"Why did you never tell me?"

Peter shrugged as he stepped up next to him. "It's not important, is it? It was so long ago and I knew you wouldn't remember so—"

"Oh, excuse me!" Tony squinted at him from the side. "Who said that I don't remember, huh?" He tilted his head, one eyebrow raised. "Very sneaky by the way to leave out the ultra cool Iron Man mask and gauntlet that you tried to fight the evil robot with."

Peter's jaw dropped. "But... that's impossible."

Lips pulled into a soft smile, Tony looked at him with something in his eyes that had Peter blush once again. "You know, it's pretty adorable that you think I meet a lot of kids who put themselves on the line like that, breakneck as that particular fever dream was. Granted, I didn't put it together until just now but..." Tony blew out a soft laugh as his hand came up, squeezing Peter's shoulder. "Yeah, you really always have been that hero at heart, kid, hm?"

His eyes stung and he looked down at how his hands clasped the railing, trying to blink the emotions away.

The room behind them had gone back to normal. There was roaring laughter from Thor that drew everyone's attention and Tony was good enough to look away as Peter wiped at his eyes.

After a moment of silence, Tony cleared his throat. "I'm gonna petition the court to add this to the rescue tally."

Peter snorted out a genuine laugh. "It's so cute how you still think you'll even have a chance to beat me."

"Hey, I'm still in the lead! 54 to 36." He pointed a finger at Peter. "55 now!"

Peter smirked. "Yeah, whatever. I'm catching up quick and you don't go out there anymore, so it's only a matter of time when it's only me rescuing you anymore."

Tony gasped. "Did you just call me old?"

"I think I called you a pensioner. If you want to jump to the being old part, well..."

Biting his lip like it would stop him from grinning, Peter shot a couple of glances at him until Tony simply shook his head. He waved Peter closer and Peter went without a second thought. Tony's arms pulled him in a tight hug.

"It was a pleasure saving you from your overachieving kamikaze mission, kiddo," Tony sighed. "Again."

Peter laughed into his shoulder. "Yeah, thanks, dad."

"You keep using that word like it's a big gotcha," Tony mumbled.

Peter chuckled, couldn't even really pretend that he was embarrassed being called out like that.

"Alright then," Tony clapped a hand on his back but didn't loosen his hold on Peter at all. "Let's go and tell them all about your Iron Man merch, hm?"

"You wouldn't dare..."

At last, Tony pulled away from him, the smirk on his lips dangerously sparkling. "Oh, wouldn't I..?"

A nervous giggle bubbled out of Peter. "They'd never believe you though." He would have to act fast and destroy all the photographic evidence that May had surely still stored in some of the boxes of old prints.

"Yeah..." Tony pursed his lips. "Too bad that I don't ever keep the footage from old missions..."

Peter's jaw dropped. "No..."

"It's alright," Tony grinned. "I'll let you bribe me with cookies and hot milk."

"Isn't that Morgan's deal?"

"Hey," Tony shrugged. "I'm all for treating all my kids equally." Then his grin widened. "We can make it cookies and egg nog for you."

As Tony's arm came to rest around his shoulders, still joking about how cute he had looked in his Iron Man mask, Peter already knew what his next mission would be. Now all he had to figure out was how to bribe an AI.

[anotherhamiltonblog]

Foreign Touch ch 8

Warnings: Angst, cuteness, Thomas being sweet.

Word Count: 2,597

Previously -  Masterlist  Request A Oneshot

[a/n after the tag-list. <3 ]

Blinking a few times, Y/N looked around and wondered where she was. ‘Wasn’t I sleeping at Thomas’?’ she thought as she sat up and looked at her body. No cast, no bruises and no pain from the accident.

“Y/N! GET UP! OR YOU’LL BE LATE!” she heard her moms voice call out and Y/N was quick to jump up from the bed and rush out of her room.

Pushing past Alexander, ignoring his cry as she practically slammed the boy into the wall. Y/N found her parents in the kitchen. Her father reading the paper and her mother fixing breakfast. With a sob, Y/N rushed over to them and threw her arms around her mother first before her father.

“What? What’s wrong sweetie?” her dad chuckled and patted her back.

“I… you guys… we were in a crash and you guys…” she shook her head but smiled. “I can’t wait to tell Thomas that I had the craziest dream!” Y/N let out a small laugh.

“What? Why the hell would you talk to Jefferson?” Alex asked, walking into the kitchen and looked at his sister in disbelief. Acting as if she suggested she was going to shave her head and join the circus.

“Because he’s my soulmate dumbass.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Like you don’t tell John everything.”

Alex flicked her forehead and Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “I tell John everything cause he’s my Best Friend. Nothing more.” Alex pointed a finger at Y/N who looked confused. “Soulmate? Jesus, you have to lay off the fan-fiction Y/N. You’re starting to dream some real crazy shit. Like falling for your brothers ARCH ENEMY!”

Standing there confused, Y/N didn’t understand what was going on. ‘What does he mean… what? Of course, Thomas and I are together…’

Shaking her head, Y/N went to change into something that wasn’t her pajamas. Though the grey skinny sweatpants she put on and a loose black shirt wasn’t any different. Y/N just didn’t feel like getting pretty for school. Hair loose, no makeup expect for the bit of mascara and Chapstick. She slipped her feet into the Vans shoes by her bed and grabbed her bag.

School wasn’t what she expected. It was as if everything she went through didn’t happen. No one had soulmates, Alex was Senior Class President. Thomas was his usual playboy way; James was a sweetheart around Y/N. Her own group of friends was normal. John and Alex being so cute Y/N felt herself getting cavities, though they were just friends.

Everything was different and Y/N hated it.

That night, at a school game. She warmed up with the other cheerleaders as they got ready for the halftime break and were going to preform a little skit they worked on. Y/N knew it like the back of her hand. She remembered already doing this skit and how Thomas had hugged her and congratulated her on it afterwards.

Now after they finished, the crowd going wild, there was no Thomas, no hugs and kisses before he would run off to finish the game. It was like a drill in her heart and she couldn’t handle it. So, when no one paid her any attention, the girl rushed off to the locker room and changed. Telling her own couch that she wasn’t feeling well and went home.

Even after posting on Instagram, she laid there on her bed, looking up at the ceiling and frowned. The ache she felt was so strong and Y/N wanted it to go away. Turning on her side, not believing everything that she had gone through was a dream, she slowly fell asleep, hugging her pillow to her chest.

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP

With a gasp, Y/N sat up and looked around. Seeing she wasn’t home, that Y/N was in the room she had been staying in while living with the Jefferson’s. Y/N almost cried. So, it had been a dream, her parents weren’t alive, she was with Thomas and her brother was with John. Grabbing her phone and looking at Instagram, Y/N let out a laugh when she saw the last post she made, she had thought it might have been something different… but no. She never made it and her friends were still roasting Alex for not getting John a ring.

Moving to get up, her cast still on her leg. Up to her thigh, mocking her almost. She glared at the thing. “Only one more week…” she told herself and moved to get out of bed. The last few weeks haven’t been the easiest, but she was getting by. Thomas helping her, her brother and friends. Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson were by her side each time she broke down.

After getting out of bed and changed into a long, maxi dress with a leather coat over her. Y/N put her foot in ballet flats and a sock over the other one to cover her toes before heading out of her room.

“Y/N?” she heard Thomas call out and she turned her head.

Wincing at the look of worried on his face, Y/N shook her head. “I’m fine! Honestly. It was just… another bad dream.” She told him and smiled when he kissed her cheek.

Walking downstairs, Thomas never leaving her side, there to need her in case anything happens. But he allowed Y/N to go down on her own, taking it one step at a time with the crutches. It wasn’t easy but she was able to go down.

By the time they got to the kitchen, Y/N sat down at the bar-stool at the kitchen island and smiled as Thomas grabbed her the box of cereal, she eats almost every morning. 

The two were quite, Thomas not sure what to say and Y/N was still stuck in her own thoughts thinking about the dream she had. Throughout the day Y/N kept to herself as she went to her therapy session and doing mundane things around the house. At least as much as she could do without over working herself. 

Not being able to go to school just yet, feeling as if she wouldn’t be ready for that. Y/N did her schoolwork at home, being sent everything she needed to her student email and sending it back to each teacher. Spending her week just like that, waking up, having breakfast with Thomas and kissing him goodbye as he went off to school. 

The day she was finally getting her cast off, Y/N was in a good mood. It was as if she would finally be able to be herself once again. So, as she had gotten ready that Saturday morning bright and early. Y/N found herself making everyone breakfast. She had gotten up even before Mr. and Mrs Jefferson. 

By the time everyone woke up and had breakfast together. Y/N and Thomas got into his car and headed off to the hospital where she would get the cast off at her eight o’clock appointment. Y/N was talking and making jokes. Holding Thomas’ hand throughout the car ride. Never noticing the bright smile Thomas had on his face every time he glanced at her. He was happy that she was acting like her old self again.

It was two hours later when they were back in their car and heading back home. Sure, she still had to use a supportive boot, but at least she didn’t have to wear the annoyingly large cast.

The two looked at each other and smiled. “You know… I’m all caught up in my schoolwork… Football season is over so there’s no games.” Thomas spoke up and Y/N raised an eyebrow at her boyfriend.

“Okay….” She trailed off, not following what he was trying to get at.

Chuckling, Thomas grabbed her hand and grinned. “Wanna go on a small vacation? Just us? I have money…”

With wide eyes, Y/N turned her body so she could look at Thomas better. “Really?” she asked, only to squeal when he nodded. “Myrtle Beach!” was the first place Y/N thought of for them to go.

As soon as it was decided, Thomas drove home where the two quickly went to pack. Being sure to pack warmer clothes since the weather was still cold. Though thankfully there wasn’t much snow on the ground. Y/N was sure to text her friends that she would be away for the weekend. Thomas doing the same but being sure to message his parents as well. Just so they wouldn’t worry.

By the time they finished getting their bags packed for the three-day weekend. The two continued on their way back to the car where they set off to Myrtle Beach for their getaway. Music blasting and the two singing, Y/N doing her best to rap along with the songs Thomas played.

Of course, they had to make a couple stops, bathroom breaks, food stops and places they deemed worthy to stop and take pictures of.  What would have been only six, almost seven hours turned into nine hours in the car driving to their destination. Not that either minded.

Finally arriving at the hotel, the two would stay at, Thomas signing them in since he was eighteen already. Y/N held onto his hand as she kept watch on their bags before finally being handed the keys to their room and they headed up to their room on the 14th floor. Once inside, they put their clothes into the drawers and laid in bed.

Y/N had decided to take the boot off to let her leg breath some as they were just laying there. It was nearing dinner time and the sun was going down, so the two looked at one another in silent agreement to order room service. Being the one to turn around and grab the phone, along with a menu from the drawer. Y/N smiled as Thomas kissed her forehead, mumbling about going to shower.

Once the food order was placed, Y/N laid there and stared at her phone. It didn’t take long for the two of them to shower and get dressed for the night. Dinner was brought up and Y/N laid in bed with Thomas, a movie playing on the tv while they ate. A burger with fries for Thomas and the chicken tender platter with a side of salad with the Caesar dressing. Though of course she stole some of the fries from Thomas plate. Grinning each time, she snuck a French fry and he would playfully glare at her.

»»————　♡　————««

The weekend went perfectly between the two of them. Y/N and Thomas doing everything a couple would do. Sightseeing, going to the beach, despite the cold weather. Walking the boardwalk and going to the fair that was open that weekend. It was a memorable time for the two. It was a much-needed break that the two of them needed. So, by Sunday, after posting something cute on her Instagram. Just wanting everyone to know that she was indeed alive.

Y/N was grinning when she had yet another hashtag going on, loving nothing more than to bother her idiot brother. The same idiot who spent majority of the weekend calling and texting her whenever he could. Just to make sure Thomas was trying to corrupt his sister. (His own words.)

When they both paid for the hotel and got back in their car, Y/N pulled Thomas closer to her and placed a small kiss to his lips. A hand going to the back of his neck while they both savored the soft kiss. “Thank you…” she whispered, lips brushing against his as she spoke quietly.

“You know I’ll do anything for you babygirl.” He chuckled and gave her one more peck before they put on their seat belt and started the drive back home.

Having left a little after Five o’clock that Sunday evening. The two of them only agreed to stop once when they neared D.C to get dinner.

Stopping at a cute diner, one that looked right out of the 80’s, Y/N was in love with everything from their weekend together. The pictures they took, the time they spent together. The indoor pool and hot tub in the hotel. Thankfully she could take off her boot whenever she wanted so she got to enjoy her time.

“You do know… that now this week you’re going to be taking it easy.” Thomas said as he pointed at her with the straw from his milkshake he had. Causing Y/N to pout.

Nodding either way, she slumped back against the booth seat she sat in. “Yeah, my leg kinda aches now that we’re not on the move… though the massages you had been giving were amazing.” She playfully batted her eyelashes at him, causing the two to laugh together.

“Here you two go… dessert is on the house. The two of you make such a cute couple. Nice to see young love still exists.” Their waitress, a king old lady said as she set the check on the table.

Y/N beamed with happiness and thanked the lady before Thomas and her started on the argument on who was going to pay for dinner. In the end they split the check and headed back to the car together. Holding hands and a comfortable silence between the two.

With still two hours until they arrived home, Y/N fell asleep against the car window curled up with a pillow under her head and Thomas’ jacket over her body.

Arriving home, Thomas didn’t even bother in waking her up. Instead he was careful in opening the car door on Y/N’s side and carrying her inside the house. She had woken up as soon as he had picked her up from the passenger side seat, but she kept her eyes shut and let him take her inside. Hearing him say a soft hello to someone, Y/N assumed it was his parents, she just snuggled closer to his body and giggled when she felt his long fingers dig into her side. “You’re awake you little minx?” she heard him whisper and Y/N let out a small laugh.

“Take me to bed!” she groaned and pinched him back with a pout in her face and glanced up at him with puppy dog eyes.

He just smiled and Y/N noticed that Thomas took her into his bedroom. “If you think you’ll be sleeping away from me after this weekend? Guess again.” He laughed and gave her a kiss to the forehead.

Watching him walk out of the room, claiming he was going to grab their bags from the car. Y/N nodded her head before curling up under the blanket and grabbing her phone that she had put in the waistband of the leggings she was wearing.

Checking her messages and assuring all her friends and brother that she was back at the Jefferson house safe and sound. She sighed at all the messages Alexander started to send to her. She sent the middle finger to the guy and set her phone down.

Laying there, hearing Thomas talk to his parents, Y/N smiled and thought back to the weekend they shared. The laughter by the beach, walking and buying stupid things for their friends. Dressing up and dressing down, going to shows and having the kiss while they rode the Ferris whee even late night drives, happy to be somewhere where no one knew them. It was a magical weekend and Y/N could only hope that the two would be able to do it again in the summer so they would be able to actually go and swim in the beach and have fun in the sun instead of being cold.

Camera Roll:

Taglist: @thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth - @exquisite-dreamers - @ballerinafairyprincess - @thefandomgirl03 - @criminallyhamilton - @1elysium - @slytherinsssss - @youtxbemusic - @i-honestly-dont-know-anymore - @sabbrriiinnaa - @yes-i-know-im-weird-blog - @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon- @wtfevenismypage - @namethathasnotbeentaken - @cubedtriangle - @a-hopeless-fan - @namelesslosers - @randomhunam - @i-know-i-can - @ryjo-92 - @lunariasilver - @mydearestlaurens - @meganlpie​ 

Forever Tags: @itsjube - @theroadtoeldorado​ - @rottendaisies​

A/N: SO i have been away for quite some time. I have had this written for a while and I just never had the time to actually stop and post it. I’ll be coming back to continue to write. SO If y’all still wanna be tagged. give me a shout out :) <3 

[pink-bird-30]

Becoming My Own Hero-Olicity & Robstar Crossover Fic

Ight.  I’m making this the go to place to find alllllllll the links to my story because tumblr has this astounding ability to make my story impossible to find.  Even using my own hashtag I have difficulty finding it!  

So here we go.  The links to all 7 chapters of Becoming My Own Hero:

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Full Synopsis: 

Oliver Queen Felicity Smoak had a daughter named Star Gabrielle Queen. On the night of her 8th birthday, her life changes forever. She is kidnapped by ARGUS and is recruited by Amanda Waller to protect the earth from Aliens, like Superman. But the genetic mutation she undergoes makes her stronger than they thought. To hide their mistake, they send her to her home planet Tamaran. Years later, the Justice League needs help from the Titans. The Titans head to Star City to assist in taking down a greater enemy, but how will Starfire handle being home after 11 years of being away, and her family believing that she would never come back?

This is a slow moving story.  If you can tell by the publish date, I’ve been working on this for 3 years. A lot has happened that I haven’t been able to keep up with this story, but I’m trying to do better.

I hope you guys enjoy this story and my latest chapter!

As always, Happy Reading!

                                                   Chapter 7

                                                  Trained Pt.2

I can’t believe this is happening

For as long as Robin could remember he’d always had some sort of attraction to Starfire.  Don’t get him wrong, its undeniable that she is this beautiful person, but standing there with his arms around her, deepening their ‘first’ kiss was blinding.  He hadn’t truly realized how much he cared about her, how much she means to him, how much this could ruin everything.

What if they broke up?  Would she still be his friend?  Would she leave the Titans and never come back?  Would she go home!?

Robin abruptly pulls back, allowing his doubts to control him, and puts Starfire at arm’s length.  Starfire gives him a hurt expression and steps away from him, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Richard?”

He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out.  He’s standing there like a fish out of water.

Starfire feels her whole world come crashing down.

How could he…I’m so stupid.

Not waiting for the ‘we’re teammates and shouldn’t date’ conversation, she turns her back on him and reaches for the elevator button.  Once it reaches the ground floor she walks inside and finally turns to face a grief stricken Robin.

“I do understand why you wear the mask; you’re eyes tell a story the different than the actions.  Night, Robin.”

The doors to the elevator closes and she lets her tears fall freely knowing he will never understand how much he hurt her tonight.

Down in the garage, Robin beats himself up for allowing Batman to continue to dictate his life.

“Dammit!”  Robin punches the wall of the garage and immediately regrets it.  He crumples back in pain, his hand throbbing.  He can already feel the bruise spreading across his hand, creating deep shades of purple.  But he doesn’t care.  He finally had the opportunity to be happy for once in his life and he chose to listen to his hero side while standing there as Richard.  

What did I do?

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

Gotham 1996

“Mr. Wayne,”  Bruce looks up from his desk taking note of his PR lady, whose name he can’t seem to remember; Rebecca?  Leslie?  “The press is ready for you.”  

Bruce stands up from his desk, straightens his tie, and checks his hair one last time in his cabinet mirror before leaving his office with…Vickie, Vickie Vale!

“Thank you, Ms. Vale.  Lead the way.”  He smirks and winks at her, knowing how his charm needs to be on full blast for what he’s about to do.  He gestures for her to walk out of his office first and follows behind, adjusting his cufflinks as they make theie way to the conference room.

The large windowed room held Gotham’s top reporters from: Gotham Gazzett, Channel 9, The Gotham Times, and Gotham News Network. The first wave of flashes startled Bruce, it’s been many years since he was exposed to the media, and having all these news stations here today is jarring compared to his secluded life back in Nada Parbat.

“Mr. Wayne, is it true you are the Batman?”

“Mr. Wayne, did cha’ really crash your new Bentley?”

“Mista Wayne, are you single?”

Bruce takes a deep breath, allowing himself to adjust back to his playboy swagger; concealing the person whom only a select few know.  He opens his arms wide and smiles dazzlingly to the press,  “Ladies and Gentlemen, I understand my disappearance has been hard on everyone in Gotham, especially the single ladies.”  He winks at Vickie again, making her blush, and continues, “I know my families influence in Gotham is important.  And for that, I am apologetic.  But there is reason for my disappearance.

“Since the death of my beloved parents, Martha and Thomas Wayne, I’ve always wanted to discover if I had family elsewhere.”  Bruce moves across the room, passing the large wooden table in the center of the room, and leans against the glass windows looking down to the city below.  He can clear as day see all the destruction his absence has caused in such a short period of time.  The thought sending a deep blow to his gut, knowing he chose to leave, but wished there was someone who could have kept Gotham free from evil.

Bruce looks back to the press, taking note they are waiting for him to continue.

“I went across seas to search for a missing relative on my father’s side.  My butler, Alfred Pennyworth, had informed me of a long lost niece.”  The crowd of reporter gasping at the new discovery.  “I’ve brought her here today for you all to meet her.  Her name is Gabrielle Wayne.”  On cue, Alfred walks into the room pushing a black stroller and stops in front of Bruce.

“If you’d like to take a photo of my niece, please turn the flash off.  It can harm a baby’s eyes.  She’s only a few weeks old.”

Gently, Bruce reaches into the stroller to pick up Star and holds her in his arms.  The room stills at the sight of the new Wayne child.  No one never thought the Wayne bloodline would continue considering Bruce’s relations with women has never lead to a serious relationship.

“Excuse me, Mr. Wayne.”  A young brunette woman from the Gotham Gazette pushes herself through the crowd of reporters.  “Gloria with Gotham Gazette, what are your plans for taking care of Gabrielle?  Will Alfred be her primary caretaker or will you be heiring a nanny?”

Bruce smiles down at Star as she stares back at him, a small giggle escaping her.  “Alfred and I will be responsible for her.  If I do need additional assistance, it will be taken care of in private.  Gabrielle deserves to live a relatively normal life.”

Gloria reaches her tape recorder out further to Bruce, “Follow-up question:  How can you raise a child in a dangerous city such as Gotham?  With the rise of the Falcone crime family, and unrest in the deep underground of Gotham, how can you guarantee her safety?”

“Excellent question, Gloria.”  Bruce shifts Star in his arms, moving her to rest her head against his shoulder.  “Given my new status as her guardian, it will be my top priority to protect her at all cost.  With that being said, today I will be announcing the charity event I will be hosting for GCPD.  We will be holding an auction to raise money for the police department and expanding their crime division to include metahuman training.  In our ever changing world, we must be prepared for the impossible.”

“Final question Mr. Wayne.  How does it feel knowing Oliver Queen is alive and well?”  Bruce’s mind goes blank realizing he’s been gone far longer than Oliver has been back in Star City.  He feigns shock, “O-Oliver is alive?  Since when?”

“He was discovered on an island in the North China sea about two years ago, Mr. Wayne.”  Gloria supplies.  “Why are you unaware of the sudden reappearance of your long-time friend, Oliver Queen?”

Alfred clears his voice, the attention of the media shifting from Bruce to Alfred.  “Master Wayne did not have access to the news overseas, he spent his time searching for his belove niece.”

Gloria scrunches her eyebrows in confusion and pushes forward, “Sir, it’s 1996.  The media is everywhere.  I find it hard to believe Mr. Wayne was unaware of Oliver’s reappearance.”

Bruce’s jaw locks in a straight line, “Gloria, please understand.  If I weren’t overly set on finding my niece, leading to deep parts of Europe where there was hardly an internet café, I would have been in Star City when he arrived home.  Trust me when I say, he’s like a brother to me.”

Gloria raises a brow at his claim, still seeing through the holes of his story.

I’ll find out the truth later…

Star becomes restless in Bruce’s arms.  He rocks her gently but it doesn’t seem to be calming her down.  He casts a slightly panicked look at Alfred who gestures to her stroller. The media watches as Bruce kisses the top of Star’s head, a few camera shutters going off, and he sets Star back into her stroller.  He buckles the small black belt across her chest and between her chubby little legs.  Almost instantly she starts to nod off, cooing softly.  Bruce smiles down at her and places a light blue knitted blanket over her legs.  Alfred steps forward to take her back out of the room.

Bruce turns back to the group of people and they are all silent in awe if this new Bruce Wayne.

“Gloria,”  Her attention snapping to him, realizing she was entranced by his care as a new father. “I’m grateful my friend is alive and well; I’ll have to check up on him at some point in the future.  Until then, thank you all for coming here today to share in this great day.  I look forward to mingling will you all at the GCPD Charity event.”  Bruce waves to them as he leaves the room, ignoring the onslaught of questions being hurtled his way as he backs out of the room and heads back down where he once came.

Out in the hallway, Vicki Vale walks ahead of Bruce, her maroon heels clicking against the marble floors.  He can feel himself releasing a slow breath.  This was a journey he never envisioned for himself.  He never thought he’d take on such an important responsibility without much thought.  This wasn’t like him.  But the second he met Star, he knew he needed to protect her at all costs.

He knew it was time to reach back into the Bruce he shut off a long time ago, the young man who didn’t know his purpose in life.  The young man who lost everything he cared for and became a playboy that he knew his parents would be disappointed in.  The young man that shut himself off from anyone who cared for him and pushed them away.  He needs that innocent, vulnerable part of himself back for this new challenged.

He needed to be Bruce, not Bruce Wayne.

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

Titans Tower 2012

Starfire lays in bed tossing and turning all night until the first peak of light start to sneak its way into dawn.  Starfire growls at the ball of fire that typically greats her happily each day, but after last night, she wanted to be left alone.

She felt a new wave of tears gather in her eyes thinking about last night’s events.  Why had Robin pushed her away?  Why did she think it could be easy?  Why does this human boy have such a hold on her heart?

“Richard…”  she sighs into her pillow, hugging it close to her chest.  She wants nothing more than to be with him.  The feeling of his arms wrapped tightly around her, making her feel safe.  The taste of his lips still ever present even hours later.  And his eyes, he trusted her enough to show her who he was.  And that’s what hurts the most.  Robin was so vulnerable with her but pulled away.

What is wrong with boys…

A subtle knock on her door gains her attention.  She scrunches her brows in confusion, knowing no one would be up at this ungodly hour besides her.  Starfire always rises with the sun, wanting to take in the first few rays to power her through the day.  But today was the opposite, she wanted her room to keep the light out.  She wants to be alone and bask in the darkness her curtains can provide her.

The knock comes again more urgently, “Star, we really need to talk.  I fucked up bad.”

Starfire stills hearing Robin’s voice ring through her door.  Why does he think he can  pull a stunt like he did last night and not expect any consequences for his actions?  Does he expect Starfire to accept an apology and be happy he finally acted on his feelings for her?

He knocks again.

“Star? Please, open the door.”  The desperation in his voice was enough to make her eyes roll.  Starfire huffs in frustration and weighs her options.  It’s either deal with this now or have the entire team butting in when they are trying to hash it out.  That thought alone was enough for Starfire to sit up in bed and make her way to her floor length mirror.

Starfire runs her fingers through her hair and checks herself in the mirror.  She’s wearing shorts and a string tank top, nothing too risqué, but enough to short circuit any teenaged boys’ mind.  She walks over to the door to unlock it, letting it swish open revealing an equally tired Robin.

“Hello, Robin.”  Starfire turns away from him and walks back over to her bed, not bothering to wait for him to reply.  She hears him clear his throat and step into her room, letting the door swish close behind him.  She doesn’t bother to look up at him; she didn’t want him to see how much he hurt her.

“Star—I.” he stops just short of her bed, keeping a friendly distance between them, but close enough that he can still reach out to her.

“You what?  You have the regrets?  If that is so, please do the leaving.  I rather save myself the humiliation.”  She crosses her arms and huffs, her hair slightly flaming at the ends.

Robins sighs, already feeling defeated.  He spent the last three hours trying to find the right words to express himself, but he’s never really been in a relationship with anyone before.  Barbara doesn’t count too much.  They were only 14 and she ended up having feelings for someone at their high school.

“May I sit?”  He gestures to the space next to her on the bed.  He’s never asked permission before, he’s always felt comfortable enough around Star to be there with her, but now everything was different.  Her bed didn’t seem oh-so innocent anymore.  If anything, it made him very much aware her pajamas cover very little of her.

Her green eyes are sharp and sizing him up, “You may.”

Shaking away all impure thoughts running through his head, Robin sits down next to Starfire on the bed, turning to take her hands in his.  “Star, I didn’t mean to push you away last night.  I was—”  he pauses feeling Starfire pull her hands from his slowly.  Robin feels panic settle in his chest for a moment.

Oh god, she doesn’t even want me to touch her anymore.

Tentatively, she touches the corner of his mask, silently asking permission to remove it.  Robin sighs in relief and nods, understanding why she wants it off.  He has nothing left to hide from her; he’s ready to be open and honest with someone for the first time in years.

Her fingers are soft against his cheek as she gently pulls at the mask, letting it fall to the ground next to her bed.  She brushes her thumb against his cheek before dropping her hands to her lap again.

“You may proceed.”

“What I was going to say is that I was—I was scared, Star.”  He stares at her with his intense blue eyes, the fear showing bright within them.  “All these negative thoughts of what could happen if this doesn’t work out came rushing all at once, and I-“ Robin takes a deep breath, trying to steady his voice.  “You’re the last person I want to lose.  I’ve already lost too many people I care about.”

Starfire sits there in silence allowing Robin’s words to hang between them.  She can see the panicked expression settling across his face.  His hold on her hands starts to loosen, but she’s quick to tighten the hold, preventing him from fleeing again.

“Ouch.”

Starfire is confused by his sudden pain and looks down to look at his hand.

“Oh!  Richard, what did you do?!”  she examines his right hand, running her delicate finger over the deep purple bruise, touching it tenderly to feel for any broken bones.  He hisses when she touches the darker stain across his knuckles.

“Ah, yeah.  I sorta punch the garage wall last night after you left.  I was angry because I still let—”  Robin realizes what he was about to say and freezes.

“I am the confused, who are you allowing to do the controlling of you?”  Starfire asks as she stands from the bed and goes to her adjoining bathroom for a first aid kit from under the sink.  She settles back on her bed, close enough that her knee brushes his thigh.

Robin frowns, “I-my adoptive father.  He’s…you don’t know about my family, do you?”  Robins asks.  Starfire frowns.  Of course she knows who Robin’s adoptive father is.  It’s her uncle, but Robin doesn’t know that she has her memories back yet.

She’ll have to pretend not to know.  But then again, Bruce Wayne is a very public figure…

Feigning confusion Starfire shakes her head, “No, I am unaware of your k’norfka.”  She continues to rifle through the first aid kit trying to find a disposable ice pack.

Robin flexes his fingers, feeling the pain radiate through his fingers.  “Let’s just say he’s a very public figure and the reason why I have to keep my identity hidden, if they know who I am-“

“Then they will have the knowledge of whom the Batman is.” Starfire looks up to meet Robin’s eyes.  She can see the sadness embedded deep within, but she still can’t shake the fact he rejected her last night.

Breaking eye contact, Star pulls the ice pack from the kit and breaks it, letting the beans cool up.  She takes hold of Robin’s hand and gently lays the ice pack on his hand.

Robin hisses at the weight of the ice pack, but then relaxes once the cool pack starts to numb his hand from the pain.

“Thanks.”  He smiles at her making her heart jump, seeing his eyes crinkle at the corner and the warmth radiating from them.

He really cares for me…

Starfire shifts closer to him, positioning his hand on her thigh, and takes a small pack of pain medication from the kit and hands it to Robin.  When he doesn’t reach for them, Starfire looks at him quizzically; confused by his distracted state.

“Richard?”

“Hm.”  His eyes are still focused on his hand resting against her thigh.  The warmth seeping its way from his hand through his veins.

“Here, take the medication of pain.”  He open his hand, accepting the pack of pills.  Her hand grazes his, a soft brush of her fingers against his gloveless palm.  It sends a small spark to his heart, and he can see Starfire is just as affected when she doesn’t retract her hand right away.

Feeling brave, letting his fears go and taking responsibility for his actions, Robin closes his hand around hers.  “For a long time, I let him dictate what I could and couldn’t do.  And sometimes that younger, more obedient version of myself overclouds my judgment and I make poor decisions.”

Robin releases Starfire’s hand, letting the packet of pills drop to her bed, and reaches to cup her face.  At first she freezes, unsure where this conversation is going, fearful he may reject her again.  But when his thumb brushes her cheek tenderly, she leans more into him, accepting the small comfort he is offering her.

“When we formed the Titans, I didn’t want to be the version of myself I was before I came to Jump City.  This isn’t Gotham, the threats aren’t the same and the people aren’t the same.  I had to become a different type of hero for those kinds of people because there’s hope here.”  He smiles lightly, making Starfire smile in return.  “ This city isn’t on the brink of destruction; sure there’s been plenty of villains attempting to take over, but the five of us are able to keep them at bay.  Each and every single one of us is able to not only protect one another, but ourselves.

“I guess, what I’m trying to say is: I’m afraid of something happening to you.  To all of you, but I can’t let that fear dictate my happiness.  I know you can handle any situation, but I still can’t help that small voice that tells me otherwise.  I trust you Starfire, and I trust that us, together, can work.”

The only sound in the room was the distant rumble of waves hitting the island rocks down below.  Could he really mean it?  Does he…does he really want to be with her?

Starfire’s eyes widen at his words, “Richard, I do not want to do the reading of the words, but are you—are you asking me…?

The ice pack on Robin’s hand plops to the bed as he moves his hand up her thigh, causing a slight blush to cross her cheeks.  He moves up her side, grazing it softly, feeling the soft fabric of the tank top against his hand.  As he reaches her shoulder, he inches his face closer to hers before his hand finds home threading slowly through her long auburn locks.  Starfire can feel her skin burning from where his hand traveled, leaving a wake of gooseflesh bubbling her sun kissed skin.

Just like the night before, the magnetic pull between the two was undeniable.  Starfire rests her head against Robin’s, “Do you promise not to do the freak out again if we have the lip contact?”

Robin chuckles deep in his throat, “I won’t.  Not this time.”  He brushes a strand of hair away from her face, “I’m all in if you are.”

Wrapping her arms around his shoulder’s, Starfire pulls Robin towards her as she lays down against the pillows, leaving him hovering over her.  Robin gazes at her warmly finally feeling content.

Her green eyes glowing bright with glee as she drags him closer to her again.  Their bodies flush together, and her hand weaving its way into his hair.  His injured hand rests against her hip and the other cups the side of her face.  He tilts his head down allowing their lips to brush lightly as Starfire’s hand caresses the side of Robin’s face.

“I very much am, Richard.”  She whispers against his lips and gives him a slow, chaste kiss before pulling back completely, watching Robin’s eyes open slowly.  A smile spreads across his face making Starfire giggle in return.

“But—“  her face taking on a serious look, making Robin squirm.  “—If you do the pulling of the yesterday events, I will not have the pleasantries for you once more.  You have the understanding?”

Robin visibly gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.  “I promise, Star.”

She smiles brightly and gives him another slow kiss.  This one sending waves of happiness through the young alien.

“What are we going to tell the others?”  Robin asks as he pulls back and reluctantly untangles himself from Starfire.  He lays down next to her on the bed, propping himself against the soft purple pillows.

Starfire moves to her side facing him and takes his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together.  Will they be upset?  Will they celebrate?  Should they keep it a secret for now?

Starfire’s train of thought is cut short by Robin’s hand slowly grazing up her side, sending shivers down her spine.  She find herself cuddling closer to him, allowing his arm to wrap around her fully.

I can definitely get used to this.

Feeling more and more comfortable Starfire feels herself succumbing to her exhaustion.

“I do believe—”  She lets out a yawn and blinks her eyes sleepily.  “—it is the problem for later.  I did not have pleasant shlorvax last night.”  She yawns again, emphasizing her tired state and snuggles closer to Robin’s warm body.  Robin shifts to lay on his back, leaving room for Starfire to rest her head on his shoulder and her arms to wrap around his waist.

Sleepily, Robin yawns as well, feeling the events of the past few hours finally catching up to him.

“Sounds good to me.” He whispers, feeling his eyes grow heavy.

“Pleasant shlorvax, Richard.”  She kisses the underside of his jaw and falls into peaceful sleep.  He wraps his arm tighter around her waist, pulling her closer to him, and drags the blanket over the both of them.

“Night, Star.”

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

Starling City 1996

Felicity finds herself wander down the long winding staircase of the foundry.  Her still protruding belly stretching her black knit sweater uncomfortably as she waddles down the stairs.  She can hear the grunts of someone working out on the gym mats and the sound of keys being clicked on her keyboard.  The thought alone sends Felicity to waddle down the stairs at a brisk pace, making her shoes thump against the hard concrete floor.

“Who the hell is touching my keyboard?  Is it Roy?  How many times have I told you not to touch—”  

“Felicity!?”  John Diggle shoots up from her desk chair as Felicity approaches.  She does a double take to see she’s really seeing who she thinks it is.

“Dig?”  She says in disbelief.  The past year has been extremely hard on Felicity and finally coming home, but without her love and daughter, she didn’t think anyone would be down here.

Diggle wipes a tired hand down his face and lets out a short laugh that could pass as a choked sob.  “You’re okay?  Really?”  He looks down her body.  She looks paler than usual, her hair showing her dark roots and her belly, hanging low.  This catches Diggle’s attention immediately.

His eyes widen, “Are you pregnant?”

Felicity bites her lip, knowing this was not how she wanted to tell Dig she and Oliver had a child together.  She thought it’d be like when Sara was born.  All of them huddled in a hospital room wanting to take a turn holding Star in their arms.  They’d take their first Team Arrow photo together.  But Ra’s took that from her, from them.  

Felicity presses a hand to her bulging stomach, he lips quivers from the onslaught of emotions facing through her.

“I was pregnant, Dig.  Oliver and I—”  her voice cracks and the damn breaks.  Diggle pulls her into a tight hug, wishing he could take all the pain away.  She sobs into his chest, wishing Oliver and Star were there with her.

After a few moments, Felicity steps back and wipes away the tears with her black sleeve.  She sniffles as she walks over to her forgotten computer desk and sits down in her chair.  The chair where she watched Oliver for hours using the salmon ladder.  Where she and Oliver would talk about their future together, how they both wanted a family…

And now she sits there alone.

“Dig.”  Her voice rough from tears.  “We need to help Oliver get out of the league, no matter how long it takes.  I need my family back.”

Diggle nods in understanding.  If it were Lyla and Sara on the line, he’d be raising hell to get them back.

Felicity begins her research on Ra’s al Ghul in order to develop a plan to bring down the League of Shadows.  She starts by listing anyone and everyone that is in association with the league:

Sara Lance, Malcom Merlin, Maseo, Talia al ghul, Nyssa al Ghul, Star Queen...

The last name catches Diggle off guard, “Felicity, whose Star Queen?”

Her fingers stop moving on the keyboard and turns to him sadly, “That’s our daughter’s name.  Star Queen.”

Diggle feels his throat tighten realizing this baby girl is stuck in one of the scariest places on Earth.  Why would Felicity leave her there?  Why not bring her back?

“Before you ask, I did not have a choice.”  She looks up at the celling of the foundry her eyes growing wet once more.  “She had to stay and be inducted to the league as an heir.  They took my baby from me Dig,  my baby.”

Diggle places a comforting hand on Felicity’s shoulder.  Not truly knowing how to comfort her in this situation.  How could he?  His wife and child are safe at home, far away from these kinds of monsters that Oliver and Felicity find themselves fighting against.

“Yo, Dig!”  Roy bellows from the training mats.  “Did you see the news?  Bruce Wayne is back in Gotham.  And he has a kid!”  Roy comes barreling in from the sparring mats, sweat dripping down his face.  He takes a good look at the small blonde perched in her usual seat.  Roy stops short of the med table, the shock overwhelming him before he rushes at her, and engulfs her into a big hug.

“Felicity, is it really you?!”  Roy asks in disbelief.  How is it possible that she is back?  It’s been almost a year since she and Oliver went to Nada Parbat to resurrect Thea.  Thea came home right away and told them how Oliver had to stay to be the Heir to the Demon Head.  And Felicity was subjected to stay, but did not understand why.  But standing there, taking in Felicity’s appearance, it wasn’t tough for Roy to put two and two together.

“That’s why you stayed.   You were pregnant…Where’s the-?”

“Roy.”  Dig says warningly.

Felicity looks away from them, feeling her throat tighten.  She clenches and unclenches her firsts trying to control her emotions, but post-partum has already kicked in and she couldn’t help the few tears that fell.

“She is safe.”  She whispers.  Roy steps forward and wraps his arms around her again, giving her a tight hug. Felicity reacts immediately feeling safe in her friend’s arms.  Roy was always like a younger brother to her, and she missed him terribly for the year she was gone.

But why did Roy come in here again?

“Bruce Wayne is back in Gotham.  And he has a kid!”

Felicity abruptly pulls back from Roy and swings her chair back around to face her desktop.  She rapidly types in a series of codes and brings up the local news.

“Good Morning, Starling City.  I’m Summer Gleeson and here’s Today’s breaking news.  Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham City after being gone for nearly 7 years.  Not only is his reappearance suspicious, but he has a child!  Before you all lose your hats, here’s the dish.  Our sources at the Wayne conference earlier today confirm that it is a long lost niece on Bruce’s father’s side.  Here is the first look at the new baby of Gotham, Gabrielle Wayne!”

The tv cuts to the press briefing at Wayne Enterprises.  They watch as Bruce makes this grand speech before Alfred rolls in a stroller.

Felicity feels her chest beat fast as she realizes what is happening.

“Oh, frack.”

Diggle looks questioningly to Felicity before watching the screen once more.

“…her name is Gabrielle Wayne.”

“That’s my baby…”  Felicity sobs, clutching at her still round belly.

Roy’s eyes widen, “Why would Bruce Wayne…”

“Oliver, this was the plan he didn’t tell me about.  But I don’t think he thought Bruce would be so public…”  Felicity’s voice drifts as she watches her baby girl giggle on screen, bringing a smile to her tear streaked face.

A warm hand lands on her shoulder and she leans her head against it.  “She’s beautiful, Felicity.”  Diggle gave her shoulder a squeeze letting her know he’s here for her and ready to take on whatever it take to bring her home.

With a renewed feeling of ambition.  Felicity takes a deep breath, sits up in her chair, and squares her shoulders, causing Diggle’s hand to fall away.

“So,”  Roy steps forward to lean against the desk, facing Diggle and Felicity.  “What’s the plan, boss.”

Felicity smiles for the first time in months,  feeling hope after all the darkness she was exposed to for 9 months.

“We’re getting them back.”  She reaches out to take Diggle’s and Roy’s hands.  She needed their team to get this done.  They will need all the help they can get to bring Oliver and Star home.  

“Let’s get to work.”

[jlf23tumble]

“louis slipped something else into that interview that the never broke up squad #are all confused about #but that seems hella obvious if you rub two braincells together” are you talking about his comments on harry jen? or something else?

(this is for you as well, dead curious anon!) No, not the obvious comments on Harry, it's when he mentions the band breaking up as feeling like "another loss," and at that point, he hadn't yet lost two vital members of his family, but in my own head canon (my own spicy UO, so don't at me about it), that's right around/just after I'm thinking h/l had some kind of breakup (and it's after/around when he broke up with his proxy [Eleanor] the first time, too, which goes unsaid by the interviewer but not unnoticed by me, lmao)

[faresramettas]

share the love con panels

thought i’d write down some interesting answers from the cast (there were many more, but i have a bad memory and i took only a few notes)

first of all, before the panels even started the staff told us not to ask questions about season four, we know they are filming it, but they can’t talk about it. so yeah, our hopes and dreams of an announcement or besse making a surprise appearance (🤡) didn’t come true. they never talked about it, when you mentioned it to them they raised their hands or zipped their mouths or were like “idk what u’re talking about 👀😇😬” so obviously they contractually have to keep their mouths shut. but it’s happening y’all!

the only one who slipped, at the very last panel, was rocco and i was the culprit lol. i asked them if they’d imagined the fandom would support them and fight so hard during the cancellation months and bea said no, seeing our hashtags trending almost every day and receiving so much love was touching and incredible. she made rocco talk (mentioned how “he became saint rocco”) and rocco also said he couldn’t imagine the amount of support, and that “the power is all in your hands, and it was worth it-“ and then realized he spoke too much dhshdhfvk the others side-eyed him and he was like “ops” but we all laughed and moved on.

pietro had a lgbtq+ themed panel with an italian youtuber called shanti. they talked a lot about representation, how it changed for the better in the last 20 years or so, how for example right now there’s attention being given to trans* storylines too, and pietro made some really good points about how a show like skam italia should give hope and a positive representation to a young audience, without unnecessary violence or struggles inserted just for tragedy’s sake. how it may seem that martino lives an “easy” and relatively painless experience coming out and being gay, at least in his season, but young queer people should hope and know that that’s possible for them too. he said that he and filippo are different, and it’s good and precious that they are. we don’t know if filippo is an activist, like pietro is, but sometimes sharing one’s personal experience is enough to help. even if filo is not shown as an activist, he is so aware of his identity, he shares his own experience and point of view with marti and it gives marti courage. and that’s enough. finally, i asked what his favorite lgbtq+ tv shows are and he said queer as folk (he realized he was gay thanks to qaf), he absolutely loved euphoria, and thinks sense8 is a masterpiece (but he didn’t finish it smh). he said elite is just cute (😤) and he also told another fan he finished and loved fleabag!!

i also asked pietro what he, besse, rocco and fede were doing in the carrefour parking lot that night in august and he said that supermarket is open 24h and close to his house and he had to go buy groceries so he caught two birds with one stone, called them up and they drank and ate tramezzini (cold sandwiches, besse got a burrito he said) in the parking lot... and yes, they were organizing the revolution.

fede said what he likes the most about martino is his devotion to the people he loves. what he doesn’t like is how sometimes he shuts out the rest of the world, but it’s a problem he has learned to solve.

rocco said he’s thankful that skam italia has given him more awareness on some topics he used to treat superficially. he also talked about how much he relied on ludo and his research to portray bpd respectfully, and he’s glad that people found themselves represented in nico and that he could help them. it’s the greatest compliment. his eyes shine when he talks about nico, he loves his character so much.

a fan asked what was their favorite line to say. rocco’s is “non è figo il mio tipo?”, greta’s is “gli dei sono immortali”, nicholas’s is “sei frocio?”, pietro’s is “l’acqua solo se mi prende fuoco camera” from season 3, fede said “does it have to be my line? cause i like no zì sbagliato” but for his own it’s “minuto per minuto”. i can’t remember bea’s 😭

greta said the girls tend to stick to the script a lot more than the boys, she said ludovico tersigni literally never says a line how it’s written. nicholas confirmed that the boys (contrabbandieri) tend to improvise more and use the script sort of as a base, and that they piss besse off because he says it looks like they go on set just to goof around and gossip and not to do their jobs lol

i asked nicholas if they ate luchino’s pizza crusts. he said he had like 7 kilos of them because they had to retake that scene many many times, cause they wouldn’t stop laughing, as we can see in the bloopers (he also said it was the most fun scene to shoot) and bessegato would just keep adding mustard, ketchup and mayo on them. he felt sick the day after and “tasted mustard for a week”. fyi, nicholas and luchino are literally the same person. there’s no line between the character and the person, i love him so much. he also said he was having the time of his life in bracciano, with the light summer breeze, while the others were dying in their clothes and blankets.

marti’s spirit animal is the fox, fede’s is a golden retriever (debatable but okay). i think rocco said a cat, greta said besse once told her silvia is a goldfish, bea feels like a tiger but thinks sana is an eagle and i didn’t get the rest cause it was all very confusing lol

federico’s panel on sunday was actually very interesting, he is actually quite eloquent and deep when he wants to. he talked about how he really took the “minuto per minuto” philosophy to heart. how he doesn’t set long-term goals for himself, because he wants the freedom to change. how he chose to study medicine because after high school he knew he wanted to keep studying, and a bit like acting, there’s a fundamental human aspect to it that he’s always been interested in.

a fan reminded him it was marti and nico’s anniversary and he said “how are they celebrating? patatine e marmellata or sushi? in nicco’s new house? have our heroes moved there?” and we were all like Bitch u tell us... ofc he didn’t. but he said he imagines marti and nico celebrating their anniversary at a sushi restaurant in porto fluviale, in ostiense (rome). also, fede says their anniversary is bracciano (dec 1st) and rocco says it’s nel mio letto (nov 1st), i’m afraid we have to go with fede on this one.

i think the best question out of every panel was about marti’s interest in gio: was it real, or was it just a fixation? he said it was real interest, that stayed over the summer too. he and ludo had to find a way to show the shift in martino, and it was hard because they switched seasons and so there was no time for it to be gradually shown. however, where they imagined that shift to happen, is in ep1 when gio sleeps in marti’s bed. marti feels uneasy because of his feelings for him, but at the same time, he is uneasy because of the guilt. when he talks with eva on the phone and sees how giovanni reacts to that, how he’s still so clearly into her, he decides he has to move on from him, and gives up any hope or idea to have a relationship with him.

at rocco and fede’s sunday panel, rocco said he admires federico’s dedication to his work and his professionalism. fede and him bantered and bickered a lot, it was adorable, especially when rocco said some nonsense metaphor and fede was like “basta!” and fede kept asking for more compliments. but the question was about what marti and nico liked the most about each other, and federico said “it’s the kind of love where you like someone so much and you don’t even know why” as in, because you like everything about them, so that was beautiful.

a fan asked if there was any embarrassment between them, they said of course initially there was a lil bit of awkwardness, but they warmed up to each other immediately. one of the very first scenes they shot was an intimate one, rocco said the first kiss they shot was nel mio letto and they’d never rehearsed kissing before. amazing.

fede’s favorite color is blue (nicholas’ too).

rocco and nicholas sat in the crowd at the end of fede’s panel and rocco was like “tell us the story of bambi” and fede called him “er lucertola” and said it all started because of a tossico (junkie/drunk), i love them. nicholas made fun of him for his role in “i cesaroni” but fede said he’s only jealous cause they auditioned for the same role but fede got it, and nicholas has him saved as “andy dei cesaroni” in his phone. 

some anecdotes from other moments (m&g, dinners) i found on twitter: federico said when they shot la grotta, there was this whole solemn atmosphere, and then he broke it cause when they finished shooting he realized he had rocco’s snot on his face and he was like “MA CHE CAZZO È, CHE SCHIFO (what the fuck, gross)” and said rocco was always crying on him (i guess referring to the martino e niccolò clip) and rocco was like yes there was a significant exchange of bodily fluids. okay rocchì.

apparently fede likes his beard so much he said he doesn’t recognize himself without it. 

some fans adopted two giraffes in the bioparco di roma in their name as a gift!

rocco cried on the phone with bessegato when skam italia was cancelled. we been knew but it hurts to get the confirmation.

maxence and lukas are two rays of sunshine. not an anecdote, but i felt like saying it.

last but not least, rocco, nicholas and fede went absolutely batshit over @crazybee‘s “alt er besse” shirt. their reactions were priceless. rocco and nicholas took pics of them, nicholas was the one who sent them to besse and he reposted it on ig. forever blessed.

[sincerelynamkook]

Sincerely, Jungkook

Jungkook x Reader First POV

Genre: Soft/Fluff/Romance Word Count: 2693

Playlist: “Dear No One” by Tori Kelly // “Best Part” by Daniel Caesar ft HER

On a rainy day you receive a letter from the one whom your soul longs for...

Day 365. 

I stare outside my window, soothed as I listen to the rain fall down. It’s a cold and gloomy day, perfect for my melancholic mood. I’ve done a great job of forgetting about him. But he comes to the front of my mind whenever I hear the word honey or when I see Twinkies as I’m grocery shopping or every time I hear Tori Kelly sing, and that last one sucks the most because I love her music. But other than that, I had moved on. 

 But today I can’t stop thinking about him. I keep wondering if he’s moved on too. Is he eating okay? Is he sleeping okay? He always had trouble falling asleep, always thinking of something to do instead of getting enough rest. Does he have someone new in his life? Does someone else hold the key to his heart?

It’s been a year. 365 days. 8760 hours. 525600 minutes since I last saw him. 

Don’t you mean since you broke up with him? That question haunts me daily. I constantly ask myself if I did the right thing. He tried to reassure me that we could make things work but I also knew he and the boys were only just beginning their journey as artists. I knew they were destined for greatness and the daily news articles and trending hashtags will tell you I was right. They are all out here breaking records and boundaries every day. I know if he had stayed with me I would’ve only been a burden. 

A knock at my door breaks me away from my grieving thoughts. I open it to find a courier guy.

“Y/N?” he asks as he looks down at the name on the small package.

“Yes, that’s me.” He has me sign the slip and hands me the package. 

I walk back inside and head over to my living room, making sure to grab a scissor from the kitchen so I can open the package. 

I sit on my couch getting ready to open the box when I see the return address, “GCF” and I freeze, the scissor slipping from my hand. 

Why? What? How? Huh?

I’m at a loss for words. How did he even get my address? Why now? Why is he reaching out to me TODAY of all days? What the actual fuck?

I feel myself start to panic. Breathe I tell myself. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths until I’m a bit calmer. I open the package and the only things are a letter and a DVD titled “365.”

I grab my laptop and insert the DVD to watch it but then I change my mind and decide to read the letter first. I take a deep breath and begin to read:

“My sweet Honey,” a small smile forms on my lips remembering how he would sing Kehlani’s Honey when he would call me this, especially when I was ignoring him because he knew it would make me smile big. 

“Did you know I fell in love with you before I even saw you? The sweet sound of your melodic voice stopped me in my tracks on that warm night in Malta. I was putting away my camera while I was walking back to my car, done with filming some footage for the day when I happened to walk by a busking with a small audience. I didn’t pay it any mind because no one was singing yet, but as I walked a few feet past it I heard you whisper a sweet letter to me. 

‘Dear no one, this is your love song’ I stopped walking, feet glued to the floor. Your voice was sweet, like dripping honey. I felt goosebumps rise down my arms as I slowly turned around. I still couldn’t see you because the audience got bigger, probably due to your voice being like a sirens call to all of the town. I started to take out my camera as I walked back towards you. Your voice kept pulling me closer and closer until I could see you in the small screen of my DSLR. I squeezed my way through the crowd, wanting to be front and center. Is this how Army feels when they see us perform? Like they can’t breathe until they’re inches away from the stage? I was having difficulty breathing, I felt dizzy, but the moment I saw you...the moment I saw you with your eyes closed, hair dancing in the wind as you hit those notes in a breathy whisper, I felt like I could breathe again. That breath I was finally able to take made me realize I hadn’t been breathing all my life. 

I recorded your entire performance that night. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, especially seeing you in your element as you sang about how you were independent but wanted someone to give you his jacket when you were cold. All I could think about was how I wanted to be that someone for you. 

When you finished the song, you opened your eyes and shyly smiled as you saw how big the crowd was. Your facial expression in that moment...seeing how humble you were and realizing how passionate you were about your talent, had me in awe. Someone in the crowd started chanting “encore encore” which made you giggle...my heart burst. I remember feeling this sudden urge to sing with you which is why I got up and walked to the other mic stand to the left of you. I looked over at you to find you looking at me with a puzzled expression as I asked you in a whisper, “do you know ‘Best Part’ by Daniel Caesar.’ The guitarist started to play the melody and we began to sing. Singing with you was the highlight of my trip and if I could go back to the moment I would relive it a thousand times.” 

I close my eyes as I start to hum the song, bringing me back to that memory. I was a bit nervous singing with this complete stranger who I had noticed walking down the block before I started to perform. He was in all black, with a bucket hat on his head which was big enough to cover his face, and he was focused on a camera. The look of determination on his face piqued my interest, but I forgot about him as soon as I started to sing. At the time I wasn’t looking for anyone, but seems like fate had something different planned for me because that’s when he came to me. 

When he got close to me and whispered if I knew Best Part my heart skipped a beat, almost as if it was restarting into a heart that belonged to him. When he started to sing “Best Part” and I heard his soft voice sing “it’s this sunrise and those brown eyes, you’re the one I desire” I looked over to find him looking at me as if he had known me all his life. I felt goosebumps rise on my arms and a pull on my heart strings. I feel my heart strings get tighter as I recall the memories and emotions from that day. It’s too much for me to dwell on so I go back to reading the letter:

“Asking you out that day was the best decision of my life. That year we spent together was and still is one of the most memorable and most cherished years of my life. My brothers and I have done a lot of great things with our music and every moment we spend with Army is a moment I’ll never forget, but it still doesn’t reach the level of happiness I had when I had you by my side. 

You were and still are the love of my life. I now understand why you broke up with me. Your poor excuse of being too different and not fitting into my lifestyle was bullshit and you know it.” I chuckle softly because he’s right. 

“I’m not going to lie and say a day didn’t go by where I didn’t miss you. Even during my busiest schedules, I still thought of you every day. Every sip of coffee would remind me of you. The image of your nose scrunch whenever you’d take a sip of my Americano due to it’s bitter taste would come to mind. I still don’t understand why you’d drink my coffee knowing you’d rather drink sugar with a splash of coffee. I’d think of you every time it’d rain. Those tour dates in Europe were the hardest for me. Although, while performing I’d put memories of you to the back of my mind, as soon as I left the venue and into the pouring rain, images of you running in the rain would come to mind. I must have been crazy for you to book that rose latte cafe that had just opened up in Itaewon at midnight, just to be able to go with you. To see that beautiful smile on your face and admire the way it would light up every time you’d obsess over a cafe’s aesthetic. But my favorite moment from that whole night was running hand in hand with you  to my car because we had to park half a mile away. The way you laughed as you tried to cover your hair with our hands, the way you cutely ‘yelled’ at me when I jumped into a puddle and splashed you, the way you looked at me when we stood outside my car in the rain. I can still feel the cold touch of your soft cheek as I held it in my hand and gently kissed you.”

I put the letter down and take a deep breath. Rainy days are the hardest for me for that same reason, and knowing that he was also hurting and struggling just as I was breaks my heart all over again. I pick up the letter again and am relieved to see that I'm almost done reading it. 

“Rainy days will always be bittersweet for me, because they remind me of what I had and lost. Y/N, I’m sorry I didn’t fight for you, for us. I’m sorry it took me a whole year to pick up my boxing gloves and get in the ring to fight the match that is us. I’m settled in my career now so there really is no excuse you can give me that would keep me away from coming after you, and even once I have you in my arms again for good, I’ll continue fighting all my life to show you how much I love you. Knowing you, you probably read this letter first, so now I’m asking you to watch the DVD.”

I wipe the tears that are running down my face with my sweater sleeves and press play on my computer to start the film. 

It opens up to an empty studio room, and after a closer inspection I realize it’s Jungkook's old studio at their old building. I hear a piano rendition of “Best Part” start playing softly and I can bet my life that he had Yoongi make this version for him. My heart aches and I rub my chest softly trying to ease away the pain. 

“Testing testing 1 2 3.” I hear his soft voice first, and then I see him come out from behind the camera to sit in his chair. His hair is unruly, face bare, and he’s wearing my favorite yellow hoodie. He bites his lip nervously and then leans on his elbow, resting his head on his hand. He sniffs a few times, god how I miss him. 

“Day 1. Day 1 of being without you. Day 1 of missing you. Day 1 of waking up without you next to me, of not cracking jokes until you wake up to hit me with your pillow.” Not being able to see through my tears, I hit pause. He didn’t. He did not make what I think he made. I fast forward a few minutes and hit play. 

“Day 15. Day 15 and I still miss you. I could still smell the scent of your perfume in my closet this morning when I was getting dressed. 15 days and I could finally drink a whole grande iced Americano.” Shut the fuck up. No, he didn’t. With more tears running down my face I fast-forward some more and hit play once again. 

“Day 256. I thought I was getting better, finally moving on, but it rained today.” Fuck. He did. He really made a video journal of everyday we were apart. The ache in my heart is too strong, no amount of rubbing my chest will ease the ache away. I stare at his handsome face on my screen. His hair is longer and curlier, his fingers accessorized with multiple silver rings run over his lips back and forth. I notice a new piercing on his left ear. But it’s the look of sadness on his face, the look of grief that guts me. Hurting all this time made me ignore the fact that he too was probably hurting just as much as me. The tears won’t stop coming and next thing I know I am full on sobbing. Sobbing for the broken boy on my screen, for the broken promises we made to each other, sobbing for my own heartbreak. I notice there are a few more minutes left of the video so I fast forward a little more and hit play one last time. 

“Day 365. It’s been a whole year since I started missing you. A whole year where I grieved for us. It took me a whole year, 365 days, to realize I can’t live without you. I know you still keep in touch with Jimin and that’s how I know you still miss me.” He says this last part in a cocky tone, smirking while doing so which makes me smile through my tears.

“I didn’t think I was going to send you this log until 3 months ago when I realized you were it for me. My heartstrings are pulled every time I think of you or every time I hear your name, meaning our red threads are still connected even after a year of not being together. We would be crazy to go our whole lives with our threads trying to pull us back together. Y/N, I loved you the minute I heard your voice back in Malta all that time ago, I loved you the day you left me, I love you every time it rains, I love you every second of every day. If you still love me, open the door when you hear your doorbell ring today.” The video ends with “Dear No One” playing softly and then I hear Jungkook start to sing the song. Grabbing some tissues, I wipe my face and try to stop the tears from falling, my heart stopping when the doorbell rings. My breathing stops as I just stare at the door. The doorbell rings again and I jump up from my couch and slowly walk to the door. Holding the door knob for a few seconds, I close my eyes and take one final deep breath. 

I see him standing there right in front of me. Hair wet from the rain, hands in his pockets, leather jacket hiding his torso. He smiles softly at me and takes one step closer, then another, then another until he’s one step away from me. He brings his hand out of his pocket and softly caresses my cheek, wiping a tear that had escaped. 

In his sweet soothing voice, he whispers, “Did you ever find your ‘no one’?

Closing my eyes, I bring up my hand to squeeze his that’s still touching my cheek. I lean into our hands and opening my eyes I softly whisper back, “I did. He’s standing right in front of me.”

[holidaywishes]

I Just Wanted You

Summary: You and Jamie used to be High School sweethearts before he got drafted. Now it’s nearly 10 years later when you finally see him again and you can’t believe you ever let him go

Warnings: none? more angst than I intended, a tiny little bit of fluff.

Author’s Note: I literally have no idea where this came from. I was going to write the next part in my Gally series or my Freddie series but then... Jamie Benn happened.

masterlist

  The last time you saw Jamie, your heart broke. He had just been drafted to Dallas and asked you to go with him but you said no. The idea of giving up any possibility of your own future just to follow him around as he became something amazing seemed like a selfish request on his part. No matter how much you loved him. So you said no and he said you were over; and your heart broke into a million pieces. Naturally, when your best friend told you that she was getting married to a man who worked in Dallas, you knew the Bachelorette Party was going to be there.

   “Think about it!” Claire exclaimed, “if we have it there, then we can literally just crash at Sam’s place -- which will soon be my place too. AND WE WON’T HAVE TO PAY FOR ANYTHING!”

  “You wouldn’t have to pay for anything anyway...” you argued

  “(Y/N),” she narrowed her eyes at you, “you’re not gonna see him. It’s not like we’re going to the game. Just forget Jamie Benn exists for a bit so we can have some fun at my Bachelorette Party.” Claire had been there for you after your breakup with Jamie. For days, she cuddled next to you in matching Onesie’s watching Meg Ryan Rom Com movies from the 80s and eventually your life went back to normal, so you knew that she wasn’t going to let you get hurt. Not again.

  “Fine,” you finally caved, “we’ll go to Dallas.” Claire jumped up and down with glee before running to grab her phone to send out a mass text.

  “Pack your bags, ladies. This bitch is getting married and her maid of honour is putting on a kick ass Bachelorette Party in Dallas. Three days of alcohol and no rules before I give myself to the only man I’ve ever truly loved. Let’s give Dallas a party like they’ve never seen!” All you could do was giggle and roll your eyes when you read the text as you sat across from your best friend. It was going to be three days of alcohol for sure but there would most definitely be rules.

  Especially with Claire’s group of Sorority Sisters she’d collected over the years.

  The flight from Vancouver to Dallas was a rocky one so touching down felt like you’d all just escaped Death. One of Claire’s friends grabbed a cab as soon as the group got out of the airport and everyone piled in to head to Sam’s place; turning to you for “the plan.”

  “Hmm, okay. Here’s what I’ve got going in my brain...” you started, “drop our stuff at Sam’s, go have a bite to eat -- steak, chili, pizza, whatever, -- come back, get dressed and head out. But understand me ladies, there are rules. There will be one stop at one strip club. No more and we will not be ordering a stripper to the house so count your losses if you don’t get the kind of show you want at the club. No drugs and no drinks from strangers. You meet a guy at the club and you want to go off with him? That’s up to you but make sure your phone battery is full so that if you run into trouble one of us can get you help. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Sir, yes, sir!” the girls chanted mockingly and you laughed

  “Alright then..” When it was finally time for the night to begin, the apartment was filled with loud, giddy screams and you weren’t sure what you signed up for; forcing you to take a few too many shots of Tequila before even ordering an Über.

  “Car is here girls, let’s do this” you yelled to the group of girls, frantically checking their makeup in the hall mirror, earning a mocking eye roll from you.

  “WAIT WAIT!” Claire shouted, “we need a selfie first!” The group huddled around Claire and took a few photos -- funny faces, sexy poses, a kiss on the brides cheek and one normal one that Claire chose as her favourite to post.

  @clairebear tagged you in a photo: “My girls and I are ready to show Dallas the true meaning of Party. #werecominforya #hideyoboys #hideyohusbands #Dallas2019 #ifyouresingleletsmingle #ClairesBacheloretteParty2019″

  @(Y/I/H): Counting down until this lady can no longer post hashtags about different cities hiding their men from her. #Clairesgettingmarried #ClairesBacheloretteParty2019.

  It wasn’t long before you’d hit up almost every bar in Downtown Dallas and you could see some of the girls were in desperate need of water so you collected each of them and starting walking down Main Street to find some kind of fast food place to eat when you heard one of the girls scream from the back of the group.

  “What’s wrong!?” you and Claire said at once.

  “Holy fuck! Claire, check your Insta...” Claire hopped on her phone, navigating to the app and immediately looked at you when she saw the comment. You knew it had to be from him, it was the only reason she’d look at you like that.

  “Jamie motherfucking Benn commenting on your post. On a picture of us! Say something back!!!” You and Claire were still deadlocked trying to decide what to do

  “Let’s just step in here and grab some food. We’ll... figure out a reply later” you answered and the girls looked at you dumbfounded. While they ordered, you grabbed a booth and opened your phone to look at the picture, scanning through the comments to find Jamie’s

  @jamiebenn14: you think you can party harder than Dallas? I doubt it but I’m willing to make a bet with you.

  You stared at his comment for too long before you finally noticed that you had a message and your thumb hovered over the little paper plane in the corner of your screen; trying to garner the courage to open it.

  @jamiebenn14 would like to send you a message: long time, no see. You look good.

  That fucker. After ten years, he thinks he can just slide into your DM’s and all will be forgotten. Telling you you look good as if you’d be that gullible, that starstruck, that desperate to cave into him like you always did. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what happened.

  @(Y/I/H): What’s the bet Benn?

  It was all you could muster. You had heard he was in a relationship and the last thing you needed was to have some chick you’d never met before show up and punch you in the face. You were trying your best not to do anything that might come across as flirtatious or presumptuous but he was your ex...

  @jamiebenn14: Meet me and Ty at the Nines. We’ll show you that Dallas is a better place to party than Kelowna.

  @(Y/I/H): I don’t think so. That wasn’t really the point -- we weren’t implying that Kelowna is a better place to party but that we’re better at partying than anyone in Dallas...

  @jamiebenn14: I don’t think so. You haven’t met these people. You’re out of your league

  @(Y/I/H): I guess I’ve always been out of my league...

  The conversation more or less ended there and you had to pull Claire aside to tell her what was going on, what he was saying, when Shandra overheard and took over the situation.

  “Hell yeah we’ll go to the Nines to meet Jamie Benn and Tyler Seguin!”

  “Shandra shut up!” Claire yelled and you held your face in embarrassment

  “What?! How the hell do you even know them?”

  “We went to High School with Jamie, we’ve never met Tyler before --”

  “And we’re not going to...” you chimed in before Shandra could add in any quips to Claire’s statement.

  “Fine whatever.” You knew that Shandra was going over to the rest of the group and telling them everything, forcing you and Claire to take a deep breath before heading back to the table.

  “Listen to me,” Claire said quickly before the two of you walked back to the table, “you can call it a night. The girls are going to be really aggressive about this and I’m too drunk to say ‘no’ to them right now. So you can call it a night and we’ll pick it up tomorrow. That way you don’t have to see Jamie. And if you block him you won’t have to hear from him...”

  “I’m not bailing on your Bachelorette Party Claire,” you replied, “I’ll survive. I’ll be fine. I’m sure he only looks good on T.V....”

  You were obviously wrong. The second your eyes locked on him at the club, you could feel yourself drooling. He had most definitely gotten better with age and you were the girl who let him go. What an idiot you were.

  “(Y/N), Claire, there you are!” Jamie greeted, pulling Tyler and who you assumed was his girlfriend over, “I was starting to think you weren’t going to take me up on the bet.” You smiled awkwardly but still couldn’t find the words. Why was this so god damn hard?

  “Nice to meet you,” Claire stuck her hand out to Tyler, “I’m Claire.”

  “Tyler and this is Kate” he replied and she gave a small, unenthusiastic wave

  “This is (Y/N)” you were suddenly snapped away from Jamie to greet his teammate.

  “Hi, nice to meet you..”

  “So, you’re the One That Got Away huh?” Tyler said and Jamie gave him a quick nudge, making you huff slightly. You weren’t The One That Got Away, not really, more like the One Who Had Too Much Pride. Your mind was racing. Part of you wanted to stay and get to know Jamie again, another part of you knew it was wrong and that it would end in flames but an even bigger part of you was pissed that he wasn’t describing the situation properly.

  “I’m sorry.. I ca- I have to go..” you stumbled over your words, “I’ll see you at the house Claire. Stay safe please...”

  “Wait (Y/N)” you heard Jamie call after you but you just continued running out of the crowded room. When you finally got out, you noticed that your phone had died and you had to settle for hailing a cab.

  “You’ll never catch a cab” his voice boomed from behind you, sending shivers down your spine

  “You don’t know that”

  “It’s late. I’ve lived here long enough to know when they stop accepting fares.” You looked back at him quickly, and quite pathetically, before getting angry and defensive

  “Fine, I’ll walk then.”

  “You don’t know where you’re going!”

  “I’ll manage”

  “You’ll end up in a ditch”

  “Don’t think so”

  “(Y/N) stop, let me call you an Über or drive you home or something, please..” You stopped walking, your back toward him, and contemplated your options

  “Fine. Order me an Über but then go back inside. I don’t wanna talk to you...” He entered in the address you gave him and tried to get you to talk to him but you refused

  “I don’t get it. What did I do? I barely said anything in there. I couldn’t have offended you that quickly?”

  “Just stop Jamie. Stop talking. It’s not about what happened in there, that doesn’t matter. It’s about what you’re telling people happened back then...”

  “What does that mean?”

  “The One That Got Away?”

  “Yeah..?”

  “Jamie.. you broke up with me because I wouldn’t move here with you”

  “That’s not exactly what happened”

  “No, you’re right. You asked me to skip my graduation, leave my family and my friends to move to a new city with no job prospects or qualifications to be with you. Because your life was more important than mine”

  “I never said my life was more important. I thought you would want to experience this life with me... And I didn’t think we’d survive long distance”

  “You never even tried to give it a chance...”

  “I.. I ju--”

  “Exactly. Look I’m sorry. I’m sorry I came out tonight. I’m sorry I responded to your DM. I’m sorry for everything but you can go back inside. I’ll be fine. Thanks...”

  “Why couldn’t you have at least stayed in touch with me?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “After we broke up? We were friends first before anything and that just went out the window..”

  “You broke my fucking heart!! The last thing I wanted was to keep you in my life without actually having you in my life”

  “Like my heart didn’t break?”

  “You don’t get to play the victim here, Benn, you ended it. I didn’t. I wanted it to work. I would’ve done FaceTime or Skype or emails or texts or anything but you ended it so that was that. You can’t say that your heart broke because you didn’t even fucking try!”

  “(Y/N)”

  “And you moved on rather quickly anyway so...”

  “Not really..”

  “This was a mistake... Have a nice life Jamie. I’ll see you never.” You turned your back to him and waited to hear his footsteps head back inside but they neither dissipated or got closer to you. He never moved.

  “I loved you. Ending it-- us was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Being cold about it seemed like the easiest way to handle it but, ask Jordie, I cried after you told me you wouldn’t stay with me. That you didn’t want to be with me...” You turned around to see a small crowd forming but all you could focus on was Jamie’s sad expression

  “You didn’t give me an option Jamie. I was starting my own life and you were too and I couldn’t take that away from you. I didn’t think you’d take it away from me either but there you were, telling me to drop everything for you. And I would’ve, because I loved you so much, but I didn’t want to resent you”

  “You would’ve resented me?”

  “Maybe... I don’t know. All I know is that it really sucked and it really hurt me that that’s how we were ending.” His gaze dropped to the street and you watched as the headlights from your Über shone across the building, showcasing a small tear on Jamie’s cheek when he looked up at you again

  “I’m sorry...” it suddenly hit you that he said you didn’t want to be with him and your mind raced to find something to say as he started walking away

  “I just wanted you” he stopped dead in his tracks as your words reached him, turning around when the silence was too much to handle, “I would’ve done anything for you, for us, because I just wanted you Jamie. Which is why it hurt so much when we couldn’t find a way to make it work.” He just kind of stared at you and you couldn’t tell if he was waiting for you to continue or if he was trying to come up with something to say himself. You had laid it all out for him again and you couldn’t wait anymore so, you turned to the car waiting for you; opening the door with that same broken heart you had nearly 10 years ago. You heard a quick shuffle of feet and suddenly Jamie’s hand was on your waist and you turned around to meet his stare; he didn’t say anything, only leaned in slowly to capture your lips in a kiss that felt like it had been built up in his system for ages, only stopping when the driver honked his horn.

  “I don’t have time for this. Either get in or shut the door!” With a bright smile, Jamie pulled you away from the car and brought you in for another kiss as he slammed the car door.

[shawn-does-stuff]

Shawn Mendes: ‘I’m 20. I want to have fun’

by Michael Cragg

Shawn Mendes is the red-hot poster boy of pop. His videos have been viewed 6bn times and he has more than 42m followers on Instagram. But don’t worry if you haven’t heard of him… just ask a teenager

Shawn Mendes is standing in his underpants in a suite on the fifth floor of a London hotel as a 200-strong crowd of screaming teenage girls gathers outside. “Everyone who doesn’t need to be in the room, leave the room,” he says politely but firmly, in a soft Canadian drawl. Pop’s current poster boy should be used to causing a stir. His #MyCalvins campaign (following in the footsteps of Justin Bieber in 2016) broke the internet earlier this year, inching the 20-year-old teen phenomenon – three US chart-topping albums, 30m monthly listeners on Spotify, more than 6bn video views – closer to tabloid supremacy and global domination.

At the Brit Awards that night, Mendes will cringe as presenter Jack Whitehall ribs him about “suspicious packages”, so it’s curious to hear him describe the Calvin Klein opportunity – and the subsequent results pored over by his 42m Instagram followers – as “a goal of mine at the top of 2018. As much as it’s a stepping stone for me to play a stadium, it’s a huge moment for me to step in front of a camera and take my shirt off. I don’t see one being less meaningful than the other.”

The air is thick with earnestness as we sit down for lunch in the hotel restaurant. I blurt out a question about whether he had to wear extra padding. “No,” he says, eyebrow raised. “They’re really good underwear.” Did they send you some free ones? “Yeah, I have boxes of them at home.” He lifts up the bottom edge of his T-shirt and pulls at the waistband of his underwear before quickly pulling his shirt back down. You’re not wearing them today are you? “Not right now,” he says sheepishly. “I should be.”

Mendes’s boy-next-door appeal and laser-guided ambition feels rather wholesome, with his sensitive, heart-on-sleeve pop-rock bops such as 2015’s UK chart-topper Stitches, positioning him as perfect boyfriend material in pop’s all important fantasy world. If Bieber is the unknowable loose cannon, then Mendes is pop’s picture-perfect head boy. But it’s clear that exposing himself so literally has its downside. “The last 48 hours have been so consuming, just reading what people are saying about me [on social media],” he sighs. Do you have to read it? “No, but there’s something about being human that makes you. I’m scared of social media and how much it affects me,” he continues. “It’s literally become infused with who I am.”

Last October he apologised to his 21m Twitter followers, claiming he was worried that what he was posting wasn’t meaningful enough. “For the first time I realised how many people are listening,” he says. He now monitors how often he goes online and tries to take regular breaks, using meditation to relax. “I don’t think of myself as conceited, but I definitely spend a lot of time reading about myself,” he says.

Mendes famously has three daily rules – going to the gym, two vocal lessons and never saying no to a selfie with a fan. He’s managed the first two so far and “took about 200 selfies yesterday”. Despite this, his rise has chimed with a shift in the upper echelons of pop – its recent exponents being anti-pop stars Adele, Ed Sheeran and (with her goofy dancing style and eternal quest for relatability) Taylor Swift, who’s now a friend. Even One Direction – whose blend of teen-orientated, guitar-led pop paved the way for Mendes – always felt like they were trying to play down the pop star element.

“The more open the world is getting, the more people are craving real,” he says. “I don’t think people want to see a made-up person. [In the past] there’s been a lot of dressing up, and I still think that stuff is amazing – like I’ll wear a sleeveless top – but at the end of it, when it comes down to you, I think it’s about being authentic.” For all this talk of authenticity and being like everyone else, I tell him, you’re also a pop star begging people to look at you. Do you have to believe your own hype? “Of course,” he says, his eyes darting over my shoulder to the mirrored wall behind. “You have to. If you wake up every day and say, ‘I’m OK,’ you’re going to just be that. If you wake up everyday and look at yourself in the mirror and say, ‘I’m great, let’s go sell out that stadium,’ then you will.”

You could say he’s been in motivational training for a while now, having started out as a 14-year-old YouTube star, uploading acoustic covers of songs (Bieber, among others), before switching to the now defunct social media platform Vine. He taught himself to play the guitar via YouTube tutorials at home in the small town of Pickering, Ontario, while one of his first public performances was in a plaza in Portugal where his family – mum Karen, a British estate agent, dad Manny, a Portuguese businessman, and younger sister Aaliyah – were holidaying. While his parents were shopping, Mendes hopped up next to a statue and belted out a Bruno Mars song. “I was sweating and I thought, ‘Dude, if you want to be a singer, you’ve got to at least be able to stand on this statue and sing,’” he says of that moment.

Where was that pressure coming from? “It was from myself, which is pretty much a big statement on my personality at 14 years old.”

While he says he loved school, his early fame – after signing to Island Records his debut single, Life of the Party, was released when he was just 15 – meant he was bullied. “People were cruel at first,” he says, clearing his throat and fiddling with the rim of a cup of green tea. “They just thought it was so stupid.” He’d skip school every Friday to attend influencer events in which social media stars met fans who already assumed they were friends. “I was taking 1,500 selfies a night,” he laughs. “You quickly learn that what you love to do is a job, but I don’t resent what I do. I don’t hate taking selfies.”

Success was rapid, with his third single Stitches breaking the US top five and peaking at number one in the UK. That same year he supported Swift on her 1989 stadium tour. How did he cope? “This life is more real to me than anything,” he says. “If I were to walk down the street and no one recognised me, I’d feel something was wrong. When I was really young [fame] morphed who I was. If it was to become normal, it would feel un-normal to me.”

From the outside, I say, the other recent pop artists who can relate to that are Britney Spears or Bieber, people who have had issues with growing up in the spotlight. “A couple of times I’ve worried about that, too, but outside of all this I live a really normal life,” he says slowly. “You have to make an effort to carry your own bags, drive your own car and not be afraid of the public. I don’t blame people at all who stay inside. I understand how it could be terrifying to go to a restaurant and eat because you’re scared someone’s going to take a photo of you.”

Is that more intrusive than a selfie? “I’ve been so lucky that fans have been taking photos of me eating since I was 15, so I’m a little bit numb to it,” he says, his tone rarely deviating from preternaturally calm. There’s probably an Instagram account called Shawn Mendes Eating, I joke (I check later and while there’s no account, there is a hashtag to follow). Can it feel as if he’s being watched? “I’m inherently [aware of] that all the time.” If it ever gets too much, he leaves rather than making a scene. Are you a people-pleaser, I ask? “Yeah, is that bad?” he smiles. “It can lead to failure, but if I fail trying to please everyone, then that’s OK.”

Mendes spends a lot of time contemplating people’s perceptions of him. Last year he publicly criticised a Rolling Stone cover story, expressing his regret that “the positive side of a story doesn’t always get fully told”. I assume it’s because the piece mentioned his penchant for smoking weed, a detail that had upset some fans. “That didn’t bother me,” he smiles. “Actually, I was happy about that because maybe it’s OK for them to understand that weed’s not a big deal.” He says he hasn’t smoked in three months.

Another part of the story focused on rumours about his sexuality. “For me it’s hurtful,” he says. “I get mad when people assume things about me because I imagine the people who don’t have the support system I have and how that must affect them.” (In late 2017 he posted an emotional Snapchat story: “First of all, I’m not gay. Second of all, it shouldn’t make a difference if I was or wasn’t.”) He sighs and says: “That was why I was so angry, and you can see I still get riled up, because I don’t think people understand that when you come at me about something that’s stupid you hurt so many other people. They might not be speaking, but they’re listening.”

He says the reason he criticised the article was over a small detail in which he mentioned Dua Lipa and her boyfriend, and how amazing it looked to be in love. “It made me seem so creepy,” he says. “If anything, the article made me realise your career isn’t over if people think you’re not perfect.” You could see how the creepy singleton tag might irk him, and also why it might stick – a lot of Mendes’s biggest singles play on the idea of him as the emotionally needy bloke who gets messed around and comes back for more.

Are you bored of being The Nice Guy? He splutters, clears his throat and sits bolt upright. “Yeah, I am! It sounds so stupid – to be a nice person is the best thing in the world – but, yeah, I’m 20 and I just want to have fun. What I don’t want to do is live the rest of my life thinking, ‘I wouldn’t do that because I’m known as Prince Charming.’ The second that someone corners you into a personality, you don’t want to be that person any more.”

Two weeks later, Mendes is onstage in Amsterdam. In keeping with the floral artwork for his recent self-titled album, a 50ft rose snakes up to the ceiling from the so-called B-stage where he’ll later serenade the throngs of teenage fans and nodding dads with a handful of ballads. Replica light-up roses (€20 a pop at the merch stand) bob about in the dark as Mendes runs through a hugely entertaining, PG-13 simulacrum of a rock show to ear-bleeding screams (“God I’m so old,” a woman sitting behind me yells as she surveys the crowd).

Keen to further align himself with the pantheon of rock’s smiliest exponents, tonight Mendes segues from a cover of Coldplay’s big-hearted anthem Fix You into his own, the Kings of Leon-esque In My Blood, a song that surprised fans by touching on depression. Tonight it’s transformed – with the help of a ticker tape explosion – into something close to catharsis.

“There’s nothing like being on stage – you feel like Superman!” he’d said earlier, claiming it to be better than sex or any high. “My goal now is to enjoy what I do more and more because otherwise it doesn’t fucking matter. I used to think it was all about the crowd, but I have to be happy within myself.” As he takes his millionth selfie, his face radiating pure elation, you believe he might be.

Shawn Mendes plays London O2 on 16, 17 and 19 April

Fashion editor Helen Seamons; grooming by Anna Thompson using Bobbi Brown and Monat; lighting by Michael Furlonger and Tilly Pearson; digital operator John Munro; fashion assistant Penny Chan; shot at 12th Knot, seacontainerslondon.com

[jewrocker]

Dancing with The Stars Rewards Prolific Liar, Sean Spicer, with T.V. Appearance.

Imagine, if you will, it’s 1943.  The Nazis are at the height of their power.  The Nuremberg trials are nothing but a pipe dream, and the National Broadcasting Co. announces Joseph Goebbels, Minister of Propaganda for the Third Reich, will be the special guest on the next episode of The Texaco Star Theater - one of the most popular variety shows of the thirties and forties. 

Now, imagine it’s 2019.  The most criminally corrupt president in the history of this Republic is knee deep into his third, horrific year in office; separating families, deporting terminally ill children, rolling back environmental protections, using the Treasury as his personal piggy bank, funding his failing resorts with taxpayer dollars, stealing from the kids of our servicemen and women to construct an obsolete wall, pulling us out of every potential peace-keeping treaty there is, habitually siding with dictators over his own country/citizens, lying about national disasters, forcing us to the brink of war just to deflect from possible impeachment/whistleblower hearings, putting us on the verge of destroying our Democracy as we know it - and, in the midst of all this, Disney/ABC decides it would be a Great Idea! to put the original, spineless mouthpiece of this racist, ignorant, misogynistic, megalomaniac on television, on one of their highest rated shows, in effect making a mockery of every lie told. Every family destroyed. Every hurricane victim ignored.  Every female accuser discredited. 

As a business decision, it’s about as deft a move as Daffy Duck swallowing a match after drinking all that kerosene (The hashtag #BoycottABC and #BoycottDWTS has been trending for months since the story broke, and will hopefully continue to do so, forever).  On a human/patriotic level, it’s about as bewildering a turn as any I can recall whilst breathing.  

Why on earth would any citizen of this country, even the lowest of the low, run-of-the-mill, sleaze bag T.V. producer-type, presumably watching the same shit show we all are, decide to potentially flush his/her show - and network, as well as their career down the toilet just for a shameless ratings grab?  Isn’t he/she aware of the fierce opposition/Resistance currently being put forth by ninety-nine percent of Hollywood?  James Woods, Scott Baio, and Jon Voight, notwithstanding.  With the exception of Roger Ailes, are T.V. producers really that much worse than their legendary, morally bankrupt cousins, the movie producers?  

We are smack in the midst of a Constitutional crisis.  There is literally a scandal an hour.  As we speak, the President is directing everyone under the sun to ignore Congressional subpoenas, the Attorney General is his personal bidet, the Dept. of Justice is bowing to his every wish as if it was his private security force, so is the Pentagon, the Republican Senate is perfectly fine with this, and a few, inexplicably misguided, tone deaf television execs think it’s a good idea to add insult to injury and put the first, pathetic sycophant - in what would turn out to be a never-ending line of pathetic sycophants -, on television, as if what’s been happening all around us the past three years is fodder for a Mel Brooks movie?  

There’s a reason the formula for comedy is “Tragedy+Time.”  Looks like ABC thinks they can do comedy while the tragedy is still playing out right before our eyes.  What’s next?  The El Paso shooter joins the cast of The View?  Stephen Miller does a Ted Talk?  Sarah Sanders gets her own show?  She what?  Jesus. 

It took years for Watergate burglar Gordon Liddy to begin making the talk show circuit.  He definitely didn’t do it on the heels of Woodward and Bernstein breaking their story.  Oh, right.  He went to prison, because that was when Congress actually did its job.  

And, please don’t talk about Spicer on the Emmys.  First, it was 2017.  Only nine months into this nightmare, and, as bad as it was then, it was nowhere near where we are now.  Babies had yet to be caged.  Sexually assaulting Supreme Court Justices had yet to be appointed.  American citizens weren’t being tortured/murdered by foreign dictators, only to see those nations rewarded in the form of State visits/weapons sales, etc. etc.  Makes you long for the days of inaugural crowd lies and stolen Obama Twitter pics.  Second, its the Emmys.  

What do we tell our kids when they say they want to be like Sean Spicer when they grow up and dance on television?  Judging by how things are going, I guess we can tell them, if they put their minds to it, and hitch their wagon to the most dishonest, corrupt, deplorable human being they can find, bury their conscience and do exactly what they’re told, the sky’s the limit.