#god it’s so weird thinking about him having any sort of positive influence on her

[catharsis-in-a-bottle]

thoughts about vetinari and sybil?? eyes emoji

HI LIESMYTH i had to break out my laptop to answer this because i can't type fast enough on my phone...

I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS. many of them influenced by fanfiction and not actual discworld canon. i am not even sure of the extent of their dynamic in canon yet because i haven't read all of the watch novels, but regardless in all of these books sybil is either a main character One (1) time, or she is a very minor character (I Am Mad About This). as such my thoughts sort of have to be extrapolation anyway

when it comes down to it i think i have three angles on vetinari and sybil (all very personally biased):

the Old Friends Angle - they are friends from boarding school, they meet each other for tea, they generally actively talk to each other, etc. from this angle, i see vetinari and sybil as having a genuine rapport and enjoying each other's company in a platonic way, which seems closest to the scraps we get from the actual books. regardless of angle, i think sybil and vetinari get along not just well, but interestingly. vetinari would be more than happy to listen to sybil rant about dragons, sybil would be more than happy to subtly make fun of people with vetinari, and their combination of Total Frankness and Subtle Bastard create such a collision of opposites that they break through Incompatible and get to "we're going to have weird conversations but we're going to enjoy it the entire time"

the Happy Throuple Angle - the vetinari/vimes/sybil triangle works out, whether vetinari and sybil are attracted to each other or sybil gives a Stamp Of Approval on the vimes/vetinari situation, etc. i think this one feels the most unrealistic of the three. from what little of sybil's perspective we get, we know she cares about tradition to SOME extent, and we know vimes cares about maintaining ankh-morpork's idea of masculinity, so both of them would have so many hang-ups about the throuple situation that they'd hang up the whole thing in the closet and never mention it again... this situation also begs the question "what the hell is going on with vetinari's sexuality" but i think it's boring to say he must be gay in all situations. let the man fuck around. let him flirt with the duchess of ankh-morpork. anyway, i say the Happy Throuple is the least realistic situation, but it IS the most fun for me to write. (probably because it's the easiest, if i'm being honest w/ myself)

the Messy Divorce Not Talking Shitfest Angle - this once again comes from my obsession with the vimes/vetinari/sybil situation....so what if the aforementioned hangups about tradition created Catastrophic Dilemmas, or what if vetinari is gay and attracted to vimes but not to sybil but still asks for her approval on the situation... what happens when sybil is put in that tenuous position..... GOD i read the BEST fic the other week called The Old Kings of Quirm Did It Too by bissonomy (who has also written the funniest vetinari fics in the world) that put forth this dynamic and it feels so real... it's like. what if we gave genuine attention to sybil's perspective in any capacity, specifically from the standpoint of her views on tradition and desire for monogamy. i'm going to lose my goddamn mind

idk in general i like thinking about sybil's perspective because the books present her as Interesting Character who then just becomes The Main Character's Wife, and if we take that at face value we can end up with any of the above angles (the 1st basically complies with canon, in the 2nd sybil [in fanfiction] becomes the Invisible Wife who either dies so vetvimes can get together or gives blanket approval of vetvimes with no explanation, in the 3rd we comply with the nature of her marriage to vimes wherein vimes literally barely mentions her and hardly spends time with her - in that sense we can get to the Divorce just from actual canon details). BUT we can also arrive at all these angles by going beyond how sybil is presented in canon. the Old Friends dynamic becomes what i described in that paragraph, which is based more on extrapolation than canon; the Happy Throuple comes from thinking about sybil as being genuinely attracted to vetinari and/or wanting to break past vimes's views on masculinity (Putting the Commander to Bed my beloved...); the third comes from exploring sybil beyond "Yay I Got Married So Life Is Good Now" and wondering if she truly loves vimes, or if vimes truly loves her, and from perspectives like bissonomy's fic. THIS BECAME ABOUT MORE THAN JUST VETINARI AND SYBIL SORRY I GOT SIDETRACKED

this is unorganized and way too long so here are my conclusions:

vetinari and sybil should be allowed to be autistic about their respective interests together

it would be cool if they fucked

it would be cool if they wrote letters to each other

it would be cool if they had a messy love triangle and created a Divorce Situation

AND my ideal vetinari/sybil dynamic is actually the terrible transgender lesbian stressed-out love triangle that i am currently writing. i want vetinari to actively cause sybil's bisexuality crisis. peace and love on planet earth

[tyrantisterror]

hey comin to you cause youre proooobably the most knowledgeable person about Kaiju i know of but I posit this question: based on what we know of them and how they operate, How do you think (or, at least how would you write) Kong and Mothra interacting. I highly doubt they'd fight at all, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on how they'd regard each other and interact

Well, technically, we do sort of have a canon meeting between Kong and Mothra - Godzilla vs. Ebirah was originally going to star Kong instead of Godzilla, and was basically rewritten at the last minute to swap Godzilla into the staring role instead (which is why he has that weird flirting scene with the movie's female star). So Godzilla's reaction to Mothra's arrival in that movie was originally Kong's reaction to meeting her for (presumably) the first time - in which case, canonically he'd act aggressive/territorial, Mothra would knock him on his ass as gently yet firmly as possible, and then immediately establish her benevolence by helping some humans who in turn warn Kong to get off the exploding island.

Which, honestly, seems pretty well in character for both. Kong is generally a solo act on an island of creatures who hate him on sight - he might be nice to (some) humans, but among kaiju he's far from Mr. Popularity. So his reaction to meeting ANY other kaiju is likely going to be hostility, just out of habit. Mothra is smart enough to know he's got a good heart beneath the bluster, so she'd firmly show him she's not to be fucked with and follow it by trying to make friends while he's down - at which point Kong, being a thinking animal, might well accept the overture, even if he's confused by it.

Mothra and Kong are both gods, and while Mothra is generally more benevolent towards her worshipers than Kong (who, outside of the Monsterverse, seems apathetic to them at best and outright hostile at worst), I think they could still bond over a shared fascination with humanity. Kong is also defined heavily by his loneliness, so he'd welcome Mothra's friendship even if it kind of baffles him, and Mothra would likely be glad to have an ally who isn't a fucking tsundere to her for a change. Mothra would likely be a good influence on Kong, as she is on most kaiju, helping to bring out his better nature.

[allsignspointtosunnydale]

Series 3 thoughts.

This marks the first post on my All Signs Point to Sunnydale Tumblr blog. So, I've just finished series three and I want to share my thoughts on what was so great about it and what wasn't so good about it. Spoilers, obviously! Don't read if you don't want series 3 spoiled.

What wasn't so good about it:

The more episodes I watch with Oz in them makes me think. "Wow, he really shouldn't have been part of the main cast". This is absolutely nothing to do with how Seth Green was in the role of Oz, it more or less seemed that the longer he stuck around -- the less the writers knew where to go or what to do with him, come to think of it... that could've been one of the reasons why Seth left after series 4.

Wesley, oh dear god, Wesley. He suffers with the Oz problem (being that the writers don't know what to do with him), he gets killed off way too early and we don't get to really know him apart from Cordelia having a crush on him, him being Buffy's (and originally Faith's, before she went rogue) watcher, what was he even doing in Sunnydale High? Maybe he was an assistant librarian if for some reason Giles was absent, none of this was ever explained and then he gets killed off at the end of Graduation Day (pt. 2)*. He returns in Angel, of which I can hope means more development of his character.

*In fact, the original plan for Wesley was to have him killed off in Graduation Day (pt.2). At least he returns in Angel.

The Zeppo: If I ever rewatch the series, I might give this one a miss as I have a bit of a love-hate relationship with the episode. I'm starting to think that Cordy had a reason to not like Xander (at least in series' 1-3).

Whatever the hell Buffy and Angel's relationship was (and how most of the quarrels that they had were solved by the end of the episode) and how she rejects her friends help.

Earshot: The weird plot about the school dinner lady being the killer fused in with Jonathan threatening to take his own life, those two things are two dramatically different things and it is sort of a whiplash between funny and "oh god, this is horrible". The timing of the episode was pretty bad, by a saddening coincidence, the original airdate was meant to be a few weeks after the Columbine massacre, but it was held off until September. You might ask, well, what did they replace the episode with on its original run, episode 14: Bad Girls.

Snyder: In a way, I was kind of glad when he was eaten by The Mayor. He was hilarious in Band Candy, though! It does help that Armin Shimerman has fantastic comedic timing.

What I liked:

For as much as I don't get Faith, I understand why she is the way she is. Someone who has been let down for almost her entire life, someone who has had a rather dysfunctional home life, she is bound to try and find someone who gives her that family that she has desperately missed, and she thought she'd found her father-figure in the shape of Wilkins (the Mayor). Well, not quite, seeing as he was the sort to be all nicey-nicey when it suited him meant that, with a father figure like that, who would need one anyways? Maybe I'm coming to like Faith as a character, seeing as she was representative of the path that Buffy could've gone down if she didn't have any positive influences in her life.

Band Candy: One of my favourite "funny" episodes. I thought it was hilarious to see Giles not acting as serious as we were used to seeing him. Who'd've thought that Joyce and Giles had a fling in this episode, and to see Snyder finally let loose!

The Mayor's transformation in Graduation Day (pt. 2) - A fantastic use of CGI for a character that just seemed to be written for the sole purpose of needing a bad guy at the end of the series, series 2 was Angel (as his Angelus side) and series 1 being The Master. I loved how Harry Groener was in the role, he totally made me hate Wilkins and that was what was supposed to happen, he did it so well.

Getting reintroduced to Chantarelle/Lily: In the episode "Anne" where Buffy runs away from home to live and work as a waitress in Los Angeles, we get reintroduced to Lily (formerly Chantarelle in series 2, episode 7: "Lie to Me") and this time, she has a new boyfriend -- Ricky, who is homeless and suffers with Benjamin Button syndrome meaning, he looks older than he really is, by means of body-switching? Chantarelle could also be the homeless woman walking down the street saying that she is nobody too? I think this episode effectively touches on how difficult it is to forge an identity for yourself in your teenage years, where you feel invisible and unimportant.

Favourite episodes: Helpless (episode 12), Anne (episode 1), Choices (episode 19), Band Candy (episode 6)

(PS: Hmm, I really don't think it would've worked out between Wesley and Cordelia).

[monmuses]

nurturing-starlight​:

“Delia’s not that bad. She’s sort of out there but I don’t think she’s dumb. She comes off as the type to take everything in stride, if that constant positive attitude is any indication. I don’t know how she does it though, I feel my energy drain with the amount of positivity she radiates. Maybe it’s just because I can’t keep up.”

She does keep note of his earlier comment that White Peonies were ones he liked, perhaps planning to buy some seeds to plant in the small garden that she wanted to start in the back of their yard. The house was far enough away from everything that it shouldn’t bother too many people. Sure it might be weird considering their meaning, but it’d be something nice for him.

“I’ll give it a few years. When she forgets about me or something like that. Have it be a rude awakening type of deal. Not sure I want to deal with her bothering me over it after death though. You don’t think I’ll cross paths with her in the afterlife do you?” Granted, she used to not believe but that changed awhile back. Still she knew full well she wasn’t in ‘Gods good graces’.

“Well I say that more in aspects of working in places like cemeteries and mourges. I think there’s some breathers–” There’s a pause, he’s definitely rubbing off on her. Not that she minds it but she can’t help but sigh at herself before she continues. “That don’t fear it. Like me. I don’t ever really recall being afraid. I suppose I just sort of accepted it. Even when I had that close call, I was more scared of not seeing you again than I was dying.” Sure it’s probably not the best thought process, but it still kept her alive.

She watches him for a moment before a slight smile crosses her face, nudging him slightly. “You’re even kind enough to help me out, how thoughtful. Joking aside though, being out here could let you out of the house too. Though this place is kind of gloomy to hang out in I suppose.”

     “She ain’t dumb. That’s why I sometimes wonder if she’s onto my tricks on purpose when I set ‘em out on Charles.” That bit, he sort of mumbled out loud, but that was a definite thought. Did she always know? Probably. Probably not, but she was one of the more “accepting” ones when he showed up. In some weird type of way. Shrugging, he kept pulling off the overgrown weeds on the gravestones, picking up a few of the beetles he saw in the grass and throwing them into his mouth secretly.

     “Oh, she’ll have a rude awakening, alright. Demons love feedin’ off of people’s egos. Netherworld? They drive that big ol’ ego to the ground. It doesn’t mean anything else when you’re dead. She won’t like that.” With a toothy grin, he laughed at envisioning it. Though, his ears perked up, hearing her soft concern. “Oh, you’re not gonna cross paths with her ‘cause I’m gonna be there. She’s gonna be pushed to her own li’l circle of other dead ghosts like her. She might even be free food for sandworms if she’s awful after dyin’.”

     Hearing her refer to humans as ‘breathers’ had him beaming brightly. He was a horrible influence in the best way, already proud of having this much of a push on her. “See? You get it!” He laughed, shoving another beetle in his mouth. “Anyways, you’ll like it, babes. You’d be the best grave cleaner out there.”

     He tore off a few more weeds before chucking them behind his shoulder. “Gloomy? Nah, it ain’t too bad. When you get so used to death, it becomes almost normal. Not like, depressing in a way, but just... there, you get me?” He asked. “And I needed somethin’ to do. Didn’t wanna be a deadbeat and let you do all the work.” On cue, in his hands was a literal red beet that was very dead. The skin was rotting and smelled horribly. A great way for his powers to come into play.

[seaprofound]

I SEE YOU, I CHERISH YOU ♡

instructions: positivity challenge! list 6 blogs that have interacted with you in some way, shape, or form and show your appreciation. let’s recognize each other’s efforts! repost, do not reblog!

♡ moogle (@theydefy): YOU ARE MY ANGEEEEEEEL (my love) YOU’RE EVERYTHING I NEEEEEED (and more)—okay, cheesy song aside, I legit care for you so much, moogle, like you have NO idea. if I was peanut butter, I’d consider you to be my jelly (in a totally platonic way ofc). thanks to you, I DO, in fact, consider ernesto to be the besto! gosh, where do I even begin with your ernie? he’s so much more fleshed out than his canon version, then I think you could forgive someone for mistaking him for your oc. backstory can be a tricky thing to implement for characters that you don’t learn much about in their respective canon but the one that you have crafted for ernie makes a lot of sense and explains SO much about him. at the same time, though, reason does not equal justification for any misdeeds and you understand that perfectly. gosh, I feel so lucky to have you on my dash tbh—you are just the best, okay. ♡♡

♡ bird (@mielmoto): bird, first of all, I just wanna apologize for not recognizing your awesomeness when I interacted with you on honey for the first time. I was a FOOL and the whole world deserves to know that. second of all, talking with you is such a delight and I adore seeing honey on my dash even when she’s not interacting with po (whom she should frankly stay away from lest she’d be corrupted lbr /j) this may sound kinda weird but I just wanna squish her tbh. she’s just so darn cute !! you are such a total vibe btw and I’ve loved every single one of our conversations. here’s hoping that we can talk more often! ♡♡

♡ ry (@demonstigma): new salt buddy alert! ry, I have never been as informed about a Certain Show That I Will Not Name as when I was discussing it with you. you have really enlightened me on the bullshit that went on in that show and, for that, I am eternally grateful. you are also so easy to talk to and I just really dig your chill vibe. lastly, your oc really intrigues me because it’s not often that I see a demon that has some sort of connection to pagan gods. I love reading about all of the little quirks that he has (along with the Deep Stuff ofc) and look forward to the day that he’ll officially be introduced to my menace of a muse. ♡♡

♡ winter (@bledwaves): another cool oc! winter, is it cheating to say that I love your everything? if it is, then I’d have to say that my favorite aspect about your blog probably has to be your long metas. I’m a SUCKER for lots of detail and, every time you post one of your metas, I feel so FED. taiyang is one of the most interesting ocs I’ve ever seen and the amount of thought that you put into him is enviable! I’ve also enjoyed chatting with you and think that it’s such a crying shame that we don’t chat more often tbh. you know that expression “as cool as cucumber”? you’re that times 9,000—no, times infinity. love you, bish. ♡♡

♡ renee (@nectaric): an oldie but a goodie! lmao, sorry but I just couldn’t resist. how long has it been since we’ve known each other? 6 years ?? damn, how the time flies. although we don’t interact as much as we used to back in the days of yore, I just want you to know that you will always have my heart. I’ve told you this time and time again but your interpretation of zeus completely changed how I viewed him. while I don’t think I could ever be the big zeus super-fan that you are—that crown forever belongs to you lbr—you have influenced me in a number of ways. for example, I think it’s weird now whenever I come across a take of zeus that makes him too jock-like or doesn’t mention him being genderfluid in some way. like. where’s the prettiness? this zeus looks too manly! I want a refund !! jokes aside, I wish you every happiness and hope that you have the best of luck with your book. knowing you, the final product will probably be amazing! ♡♡

♡ simy (@dethqveen): wow, so many cool ocs! what is this—the holiday season? simy, although we haven’t roleplayed (yet), I’ve enjoyed seeing you on my dash (not to mention the conversations that we’ve had on tumblr IMs). eerie is such a wonderfully fleshed out character and it’s honestly amazing to see just how much they have evolved over the years. the fact that their current iteration is so different from their prototype speaks volumes about how open to change you are as a writer. writers need to have that level of flexibility imo because, if characters were set in stone, then they wouldn’t be allowed to grow and surprise us—and that’s no fun at all! I’m so sorry btw that a certain anonymous dickhead is giving you such a hard time (AGAIN at that, ugh). I hope that you can finally put an end to their hatred once and for all. ♡♡

♡ all of my mutuals not mentioned on this list (whether we interact or not): first of all, thank you for becoming a part of my dash. the fact that you looked at my blog and thought “hey, this blog is pretty neat, I think I’ll give it a follow” is just so humbling. I have HORRIBLE perfectionism-related, performance anxiety issues—try saying that 10 times fast—so, I tend to have less than steller opinions about my writing capabilities. (seriously, just ask my fourth grade teacher whose class I nearly failed because I was so over-critical of my writing, that I was too scared to even try to write, lmao) therefore, even something as simple as a follow back just melts my heart tbh. if we have interacted even a little bit, I wish that we could interact some more. if we haven’t interacted yet, then I look forward to the day where one of us makes the first step. until then, keep on being cool and awesome, fam. ♡♡

Tagged by: nobody, I created this one !! Tagging: @nuiruk, @bledwaves, @ofmywcrld, @theydefy, @partloss, @warraigoe, @athinakori, @mielmoto, @storystrange, @sereniora, @singofus, @emcads, @multiicolor, @earthssprout, @badboysupr, @mageiia, @uizado, @okeancs, @nectaric, @apricaite, @brokentoys, @ladysmaid, @demonstigma, @hoopsheartthrob, @heedingcalls, @dethqveen, @cauterisen, @riidcr, @asoulunbound, @never-surrender, @mysticwrit, @lunarburnt & youuuuuuuuuuu !!!!!!! feel free to steal it from me and hop aboard the positivity train!

[jonesyjonesyjonesy]

Hi! I'm currently writing a kinda weird fanfic that has a lot of Led Zeppelin influence. I'm a Jimmy fan but I really want to come at the story with some personality, perspective, and quirks of everyone. Of course, "I know" more about Jimjam. I was hoping you could give me some insight or advice about how to get more of Jonesy into my story. I've kinda already made a blunder in my rush of the intro because I really love writing and it's been a while, lol. Any help is appreciated, and thank you 😊

Oh ��� I could wax poetic on Mr. Jones all day! But I don't want to inundate you with too much that might not be helpful to you and your purposes.

He can be elusive when writing because he is just that: elusive.

If Zeppelin is light and shade, you can also see it as positive and negative space. And Jonesy fills in those cracks both musically and with his personality. He is the negative space and the trick with negative space is that it works by not being obvious. That's sort of the bass function in a 4-piece rock band and why it's so easily looked over by lots of casual music listeners (*ahem* plebians*).

I think that's a good way to start contextualizing him, especially if you're looking to contour your story with his presence. I doubt you have made a blunder, truly. After all, we are just working off of these "characters" who happen to be living, breathing individuals.

Here are just a few elements that I find fun when playing with Jonesy while writing:

Humor - He's both the master of dry humor and dad jokes. He gives me the impression that if he's the only one who laughs at the joke, it's still a good joke (i.e. telling people "star" backwards is "rats"...like okay king...). He doesn't say more than he needs to.

Perspective - Inherently, from his instrument and again, this idea of negative space, he is a watcher and a listener. He is perceptive and he probably sees and knows a lot more than he lets on. Unless he chooses to be oblivious to something. He is an only child and, as an only child myself, you become a watcher and pick up on a lot about how people act very quickly.

Ego - He's a cocky bastard. He knows he's talented and he isn't afraid to let anyone know he's talented, but he isn't bragadocious about it. It's very matter of fact. He's sees it as a tenant of who he is, an indisputable truth and consequently, can come off as acting superior or snobbish. He knows his job in the band, but he's still going to wear the glitter pants. The man isn't afraid to stand out, but he's not going to beg for it.

Loyalty - Romantically and professionally, he's a very loyal person. Now look, the man isn't a saint, I'm not here to purport such things, but there's something to be said that he's been married to his wife since the 60s. He's been quoted calling her his best friend on several occasions. Whatever they got, it worked. And there are multiple accounts of him getting ACTIVELY angry to the point of threatening violence when Zeppelin or its member's integrity and talent were questioned (if he would actually follow through, I don't believe he's got that chutzpah). If you look at his relationship with Bonzo, he'll always say he was the greatest drummer he ever worked with (Dave Grohl being the second greatest). His exclusion from the 90s projects, regardless of motivation for it, was deeply impactful for him. Zeppelin the monolith is more important to him than being a member of Zeppelin. In more modern contexts, he returns to his well of collaborators often.

DEAR GOD. THIS WASN'T CONCISE OR ANYTHING AT ALL. On a more fun fact note -

Enjoys reading and being in nature

is not terribly interested in flaunting wealth

the daddliest dad (daughter Jacinda helped him with lyrics for Scream For Help)

has been quoted saying "I like strong women" so i mean i'm pretty much deceased

his middle name is NOT Richard even though it says so on Wikipedia. There is an interview where he says he has no middle name.

is pretty private about his personal life

IS A PESCETARIAN AND HAS BEEN SINCE THE 70s

has extremely eclectic music taste but that's a given

...too much? Too little? Let me know if you need more my dear. I'm tagging @kyunisixx in case she'd like to add anything to this extensive list of traits (but perhaps that's overkill)

me talking and then realizing i've said way too much

happy writing dearest! may all your john paul jones dreams come true!

[drawlfoy]

the poisoning of draco malfoy

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x fem!reader

request: no haha

summary: y/n is known her her hangover cure and her passion for potion making. something goes slightly wrong when it comes to helping draco malfoy.

warnings: mentions of underage drinking, swearing, getting poisoned lmfao

a/n: hiyo i should be studying rn for one of my exams on monday but i just wanted to post this also big sorrry to anyone’s dm that i have yet to respond to i literally just popped in here to do this and hopefully i will crawl out of my study hole in a few days fjsdka’

word count: 1.2k

tags :) message or send in an ask to be tagged! @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell

“Draco!” Y/N hissed as he flipped through her entire Potions cabinet, his fingers brushing over every bottle. “Be careful!”

“Sheesh, have I ever been anything but careful?” he teased, shooting her a very self-satisfied look before continuing his search. “Why don’t you label yours?”

“It adds spice to the whole hangover curing process, don’t you think?” she joked, sitting on her bed as she watched him. “Do you need help?”

“No, I’m fine.” She tried to suppress a smile as his stubborn persona reared its head. “It’s pink, right?”

“Yeah,” she said absentmindedly. Her thoughts were somewhere other than potions--instead thinking of how he’d let her rest her head on his shoulder while they were all talking. It obviously meant nothing--they were just friends--but it still made her heart speed up when she thought about it. 

“Got it.” He shut her cabinet, brandishing a small pink bottle before tossing it into his pocket. “Thanks, Y/N. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Anytime,” she said. If she avoided looking him in the eyes for too long, she could pretend like she didn’t feel disappointment at the fact that his visit to her room would be so brief. When he’d asked the group for Wide-Eye potion, everyone had directed him to her and her signature brew (which was really just Wide-Eye brewed with the essence of mandrake root). She’d let her mind wander to the possibilities of what might happen when they were alone in her room--but that was all drunken fantasy speaking. Just because he let her touch his shoulder didn’t mean he was about to propose.

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” He sent her a grin that made her knees weak, turning to leave.

“See you.” 

With that, he was gone.

~

“Think you’re funny, huh?”

Draco’s voice cut through her own pounding head as she sat at the Ravenclaw table with her other equally hungover friends.

“Excuse me?” She whipped around to see him pink with frustration. “Did you even take it?”

“It doesn’t work,” he told her matter-of-factly. “I don’t know how you managed to con all your friends into thinking that you’re some sort of Potions master at the age of 17, but you’re not. I know you’re a fraud.”

“What are you talking about?” Y/N asked. “That potion works. I’ve used it myself.”

“Yeah, it’s magic,” said her fellow Ravenclaw friend, Rena, from across the table. “I actually stole a vial from your cabinet this morning. Never been better. Maybe you’re just ill.”

“Huh?” Y/N asked. “I gave the last vial to Draco last night. There’s no way you could’ve…” The color drained from her face. “Draco, do you still have the bottle from last night? Can you describe the potion to me?”

The realization seemed to dawn upon him as his eyes widened. “No. I threw it out. It just looked like a regular potions bottle. Pink, like you said. Oh, god, did you poison me?”

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” said Y/N, keeping her tone cavalier despite the fact that she was terrified. “There’s nothing...deadly...in there per se. But it’s not all totally legal for someone like me to have, so we can’t let Pomfrey know about it until I figure out what you took. Or Snape. Especially not Snape.” She shivered.

“So what do you suggest we do?” he drawled.

“Come with me. I’m going to try and figure out what’s missing.”

They didn’t talk much on their way to the Ravenclaw dorms apart from Y/N asking him about his symptoms. As far as she could tell, he was perfectly fine apart from a headache and sensitivity to sound and light--a classic hangover. 

She racked her brain, trying to think about what potion could be in her cabinet that wouldn’t cause ANY effects, even with the combination with alcohol. There was nothing. Quite literally nothing.

“Ok,” she told him as they stood in front of her cabinet. “I want you to tell me the general region where you grabbed it.”

Draco squinted at the bottles, running his fingers over them like he had last night. “To be honest, I hardly remember. It was a blur. Maybe this’ll teach you to put labels on them.”

“Normally I don’t have people ransacking my potions!” she snapped, throwing her hands in the air. “Are you sure you don’t feel anything different from a hangover? Like, at all?”

“No.” 

“Did you even take it?”

“Yes, I’m quite certain I drank a potion you gave to me this morning unless I completely imagined the entire thing,” he said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling and sitting down next to her. “How fucked am I? Should I go to the hospital wing?”

“Worst comes to worst we use a bezoar, but it doesn’t look like you’re in any danger.” She chewed her lip as she thought. “Hang on…you’re absolutely positive it was pink, right? Were there any other colors in it?” 

“Gold flecks.” 

She sprung up, digging through her cabinet and ignoring Draco’s questioning. “This doesn’t make any sense. I think you took my love potion.”

“No way,” he scoffed. “I think I would know if I was under the influence of a love potion.”

“I know. That’s why it doesn’t make any sense,” Y/N said. “But there’s only one potion in here that has gold flecks, and that’s a love potion. And it’s gone. Unless Rena took it--and I think everyone would’ve noticed that by now--it had to have been you.”

“But I feel normal!” he protested, running his hands through his hair. 

“Of course you feel normal,” she chastised. “The whole point of love potions is to convince you that what you’re feeling is natural--oh.”

It hit her. 

He gave her a weird look.

“Got anything you want to confess, Malfoy?” she asked, cocking her head and meeting his eyes. 

“What?”

“Do you know how love potions work?”

“Of course I know how love potions work,” he snapped, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not 12.”

“Care to explain?”

“You’re ridiculous,” he said, but he crossed his legs and continued in a monotone voice as he recited the lesson they’d both heard in 3rd year. “The recipient of a love potion falls into infatuation with the…”

His voice trailed off.

“With the person who gave it to them, yeah?” pushed Y/N. “So if you feel no different, and I was the person who gave it to you..”

Draco just stared.

“Draco, I brewed that potion, and I know that there’s nothing wrong with it,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “You feel normal because--”

“Because I normally feel infatuated with you, yeah,” he cut in, his tone bitter as he rolled his eyes again. “No need to spell it out for me.”

“This is horribly embarrassing for you, huh?” she teased, giving him a shove. “Why didn’t you just tell me? I’ve probably liked you for longer.”

“Well--what?” 

“Yeah,” she said, shrugging as she tucked her legs under her and scooted a little closer. “You don’t honestly think I’d give my last vial to some random classmate, do you?”

“Well, why didn’t you just tell me?” he teased. “I don’t let just anyone fall asleep on my shoulder.”

“I guess we’re both cowards, then,” said Y/N.

“And idiots.”

“I think that’s just you.”

final a/n: i didnt edit this and i wrote this in the middle of what was supposed to be a study session for me whoopsies fdjsa;k 

[elfyourmother]

@kaninchenzero YES THIS. ALL OF THIS.

like holy shit the amount of petty indignities she had to put up with in Ferelden from the day she was born. the alienage, the Circle, always having to be the Good One. outright macroaggression, so much rage she had to swallow because she didn’t want to prove anyone right about her, and because the Circle indoctrination said it was dangerous (that way lies demonic possession!) and later as a Grey Warden because the mission was so much more important than her personal pride. That’s not to say it didn’t ever come out but she had to put such a lid on so many things because Now Is Not The Time. And I don’t think she even realized how much anger she swallowed down until she was in Eorzea and got her memories back and was like. “Damn bitch, you lived like that???” at herself

it’s exactly why DRK was so good for her too, even before Zenos (and why I maintain that entire story hits so much different w a Black femme WoL, in the best possible way)

that last post made me think about how I’ve carefully considered what Gisele gets out of her relationship with Zenos besides the obvious (sex), and i’ve come to the conclusion that as bizarre as it sounds on the surface, he’s very good for her in at least one respect: he’s the epitome of the “don’t you wanna go apeshit?” meme towards her, which is something she honestly needs

even back at the Menagerie, Zenos was reading her like a book because of the Resonance, talking about how the Circle caged her because they feared her and sought to tightly control her in order to assuage those fears, and in doing so caused her to fear her own power on some level

Gisele’s kneejerk reaction to all that was to say it wasn’t true, that he was lying and he didn’t and couldn’t understand because he had no context for Andrastian cultural views in Thedas. But that was because she’s been telling herself for years that her Circle upbringing was mostly positive and necessary, largely as a coping mechanism. of course she became angry when she got her memories back and realized that mages didn’t have to live that way, now that she’s in a place where her gifts are celebrated instead of feared. but even so the kind of pleasure she gets in wielding the arcane in battle is something she absolutely has lingering Andrastian guilt about, because it’s the exact thing she was warned against growing up. That way lies Tevinter, and all. and no matter how strong she is, no matter how much her mother’s Dalish influence largely shielded her from believing the Chantry’s bullshit about magic, Gisele was still an impressionable child steeped in that environment and it maybe seeped into her subconscious in ways she didn’t realize. Zenos just held a mirror up to her. (and ofc this is why the RPR stuff is so so fraught for her, for all I joke about it being an absolutely hilarious Job for an ex-dyed in the wool Circle Mage.)

and so Zenos was the one who put the first cracks in that convenient lie she told herself, that the Circle didn’t impact her negatively or have any lingering negative effects on her years later. cue the duel in EW. when he talks about wanting to give her the only gift he can, there’s a lot more to it than canon. he wants her to cast aside that guilt/shame and embrace the pleasure of it all, because it’s what makes her strong. and it is. in a place running on Dynamis that was a powerfully transformative act, to be so unfettered. and that was his influence.

[snellyfish]

May I ask..... what is in your post game V3? I dunno how to ask this without sounding weird.

HM!!!!!!!!! GOOD QUESTION;;

I mostly only have braincells for Kiyo and Angie so not a lot of my thoughts are straying from that unfortunately LMAO, I was able to branch off a bit answering this though so thank you for indirectly helping me develop more!!

But I like to think it's the same scenario as the second game where it was all just a simulation. I know what I fantasize about is a VR AU and that "postgame" tends to refer to the survivors but literally none of my favorites survived so reality can be whatever I want: postgame Shinnaga is so canon it's unreal!! I'm sure there's probably a VR fic for them somewhere out there in the world, I wouldn't know because I suck at reading fhdjfk, but I would love to write my own someday HEH

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

They'd all wake up one by one as they die and end up all in the same facility where they're taken care of by the Danganronpa team, unable to leave until they’re well again due to the contracts they signed prior to playing-- Meaning Angie wakes up, Tenko wakes up a few hours later, Kiyo another few hours later, etc. Angie jumps back pretty quick from things so she'd be already VERY excited to see Kiyo*  after watching the trial, mostly because Angie like immediately caught onto what his sister really was to him (HINT: CONTROLLING AND AWFUL) and yelling at her screen saying "GOD WILL SMITE YOU ALL FOR PICKING ON THE WEAK" at everyone just calling him some incestuous freak during the trial. Angie does have genuinely incredible intuition (thanks god!) so she looks past the fact he murdered her Scarily Fast. Everyone would definitely mistrust and hate Angie even more as she tries to preach to them afterwards about Kiyo and how they need to forgive him since he’s a victim and God (most important opinion) already forgave him, but no one ever listened to her anyway especially postgame so it’s all in vain 😔

*whom might take a bit to wake up and fully acclimate again because...idk this man was boiled alive that's kinda Fucked I think all the executed would take longer to wake up because they went through more lengthy + traumatic deaths I guess? This just means even more time for Angie to sit on her thoughts about what happened to her+Kiyo yuh yuh

Everyone becomes a mix of their pregame selves and the identities they were given, they'd end up being mediocre/average (sometimes bad) at what their handpicked talent was but a lot of them still keep up doing it until they DO become good again. A very small amount of them try to replicate their killing game outfits and kinda live off the high of being what they once were and accomplished in their fake memories, like Miu and Himiko. (this also makes me think about Irumeno a bit more 👀) Pretty much every single one of them in pregame saw themselves as nothing, being disposable enough to be in a killing game (even if it turns out to be virtual), so the new identities would overpower the mix for the most part since they’re the more intensified and dramaticized personality--IF THAT MAKES ANY SENSE LOL.

--Angie absolutely never stopped her art and has a less intense view on Religion, since garnering more experiences in life she’s just be less intense in general I'd think; more open with her emotions in that she'd actually cry, but still very manic and bubbly and optimistic nonetheless. After getting help (mostly from Kiyo who deals with the same thing), Angie is able to differentiate her thoughts and desires from “God”’s thoughts and desires, YEA she still has a funky little friend in her head. She's not AS pushy especially not with her equally traumatized fellow killing game participants but she still absolutely gets her moments of intensity and assertiveness now and then if she thinks something God is telling her is absolute truth and for the betterment of everyone: she is still Angie afterall, truly believing everyone would be much happier with her God in their lives but having enough self-restraint to know everyone will just push her away further if she tries to help them in that regard. She has her moments of desperation but most everyone’s too far gone from her already.

--Korekiyo is such a complicated one--I do like to think of pregame Kiyo as transfem/nonbinary and that would partially stick into his postgame identity in some way...killing game Kiyo was Just A Dude but after becoming the mix of the two identities he'd be VERY confused, especially with the influence of his (simulated) sister's influence. (genderfluid time? :)) He'd have varying degrees of when his...sister...alter...thing...comes out, or is present in his head in any regard, she'd be gone or slowly disappearing from his mind for months at a time and he'd initially be extremely unstable about it because he feels extremely isolated and lost when he can’t talk to her, but he's got Angie by his side so he becomes significantly less stressed about it over time, learning to cope with it. Eventually he finds himself no longer dependent on sister and...has to learn a SECOND time to not be unhealthily dependent; on Angie this time. (funky little idea I’ve been wanting to draw/write about sometime...hnnrngm) They’re both miracle workers when it comes to each other’s mental health it’s kinda insane. Of course, after realizing that Sister never really existed, he harbors near-immediate guilt for having murdered Angie and Tenko once he’s alone with his thoughts, not being puppeteered by sister, realizing everything he ever did he did for HER and realizing how fucked it all was pretty quickly--he does crave interacting with his victims in a positive and healing light but he’s sort of traumatized by it all to the point he is TERRIFIED when they’re around him at first.

--Tenko ends up EVEN MORE protective and grudgeful after she wakes up, trying to shield everyone and everything from most of the blackened, absolutely makes Kiyo manage to feel like even worse shit when he's got 1 extremely supportive and loving woman he killed and 1 extremely spiteful woman he killed who might legitimately murder him in return if he’s not careful. Tenko never makes amends with Angie and becomes close with Himiko (who's close with Gonta despite Tenko's wishes (she hates him for killing Miu, local woman)), managing to keep Himiko far far away from Angie, not only for "stealing" Himiko in the Student Council but also for the fact Angie's glued to Kiyo's side--making her the second least trustworthy person to Tenko..

--Himiko is very traumatized after the game due to surviving all the way til the end, likely making her (along with Shuichi+Maki) very disillusioned and lost--unable to decipher anything from fiction or reality--it takes a long time for Himiko to really “accept” anything; tried to cling to both Tenko and Angie but ends up just stuck on Tenko, mourning the loss of her friendship with Angie while doing so. Himiko would probably be shoved away from Gonta at first as well, but Tenko felt a lot more confident in Gonta so after a long while of her aggressively trying to teach him manners and keeping an emotional deathgrip on him whenever he wants to interact with Himiko, they’d end up close friends again. Still thinking about Irumeno-- Also with the whole ~~Survivor Delusions~~ thing, I think that helps play into Himiko’s attachment and insistence to keep up her old magician identity, because she has a very hard time trying to tell what’s real n fake ykno, and it takes her a while to realize she doesn’t have her talent anymore; absolutely ending in tearful breakdowns and unending determination to find herself again by forcibly trying to improve and push herself to her limits.

For the most part Kiyo and Angie are outcasted from everyone else, a lot of that being due to Tenko's preaching but...also everyone just doesn't understand what actually happened to Kiyo and they are all deathly worried about Angie, but not enough to get themselves involved; they're scared of Angie too, afterall, not as much as they're scared of Kiyo but ykno-- They think her naivety and determination to “fix him” is going to get her murdered again, every day they’re just counting down the minutes until it happens again. (spoiler alert: it doesn’t)

I could ABSOLUTELY go off more but I really have to end this at some point so fhdsjkfds--

TLDR;; Angie (and God alter) forgive Kiyo almost immediately. Sister alter likes to disappear sometimes making Kiyo sad and unfortunately dependent on Angie. Both Kiyo + Angie help each other heal and recover from their issues. Tenko hates both Kiyo + Angie with a passion and protectively forbids Himiko from seeing either of them. Himiko is close friends with Tenko and Gonta and Maybe More with Miu.

[shutupanakin]

Wasting Your Time Ch.3

“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.

The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”

Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?

Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.

click click click click click click click click—

...

or; Tommy planned on dying. He meets Wilbur instead.

Chapter Summary: Tommy is wrong. Wilbur tries to teach him color theory.

cw for suicidal ideation

Tommy was not proven right.

In better words, his thesis, his argument, it was wrong. He was wrong, okay? He could admit that! He was wrong and Wilbur was right. Wilbur, him, and his stupid antithesis. Wilbur got the good grade, Wilbur got the pat on the shoulder from the teacher. Tommy got credit for participation. Tommy got a pity smile and a gold star sticker and a ‘good job! You tried!’

Tommy should be happy. He is happy! He talked to Tubbo and Ranboo. After they were all done with classes on Friday, because Tommy had waited that long— he talked, and they listened! They did!

“ Would you guys be happier if I— I don’t know. Stop hanging around you, or something?” He was picking at the thread, pulling it so tight he could feel it move the inside of his sleeve.

The answer he got? They said no. Ranboo was quiet, letting Tubbo babble. Then Ranboo would reword what Tubbo said, more coherently. And Tommy resisted his urge to just scream, because that was their dynamic. Of course it was! Tubbo was the controlled forest fire and Ranboo was damage control.

What Tommy did not expect was when he had pointed that out, his friends didn’t let him burn out like he thought they would. Tommy wasn’t the tree burning up, Tommy was the water that Ranboo was using to put it out.

They had hung out at Ranboo’s all weekend, after that. Sam was busy and couldn’t handle the noise, Tubbo’s dad worked nights and refused to leave the house to them alone. Ranboo’s cousin was cool about it, thank god. The guys' friends were fucking awesome, Tommy thought. The shorter American was telling him about Molotov Cocktails and one with the stupid fucking glasses tried to teach him and Tubbo some clutch in Minecraft.

Tommy wasn’t afraid to admit that he lost.

The train, as it always does, stops in front of him. Tommy didn’t hesitate this time, grabbing his seat at the back. There might have been more of a skip in steps this time, but no one he knew was there to point it out. The woman at the front promptly ignored him. He sat down, hands tucked firmly in his jacket pockets.

He did not doubt that Wilbur would show up this time. The man himself had indicated that he’d love being proven right. Tommy was willing to let him take this, to take this ego boost. Tommy knew when to admit that he was wrong— he was, okay?

“I like your pin.” Ranboo’s cousin said, passing him a coke from the fridge. “Smile. Nice.”

Tubbo looked at him, his eyes settled on Tommy’s jacket. He reached out, fabric gripping up in his hand. His thumb ran over the yellow and black pin. “Bee.” Tubbo tilted his head. “When did you get this?”

“Oh. Uh.” Tommy stuttered. “Uhm. Two weeks ago! There’s this cool shop a bit out that sells them.”

Tommy fiddled with the bee, adjusting the diagonal position it had fallen into. He didn’t tell Tubbo or Ranboo about Wilbur— he didn’t know how to explain it. How to explain him. He didn’t want to tell them what had led him to go to the train station in the middle of the night. That was a conversation that Tommy was simply not ready for, yet.

Wilbur was also eerie, and he was sure that only Tommy himself could deal with his weirdness for a whole night. He would probably psychoanalyze Tubbo and make him cry, or monologue to Ranboo and give him a breakdown. He’d keep them separated for a bit, Tommy decided.

When they pulled into their next stop, Tommy didn’t shut his eyes this time. He watched Wilbur come into view through the window. Wilbur entered swiftly, following behind a man that nabbed a seat in the front.

“Hello, fellow science experiment,” Wilbur grinned, placing himself down opposite Tommy. “I assume it went well?”

If Tommy was in a worse mood he would curse him out. “I’ll have you know, it went exceptionally well, Mr. Soot. I even walked here with a bit of pep in my step. I did that! Not you!”

“Of course you did, they were your words, I just gave you a motive.” Wilbur hummed.

Tommy scowled. There it was. “You’re a prick,”

“A correct prick.” Wilbur said. “So your friends took it well then?”

Tommy hesitated. “Well. You could say that? They’re trying, now. They’re listening. I’m not just hitting the pavement anymore. But we’re talking! And we spent the whole weekend at Ranboo’s!”

“So you are getting somewhere,” Wilbur concluded. Tommy nodded.

“It— it’s nice enjoying myself, hanging out with them. Ya know? Like it’s not a chore. It’s easy. I don’t have to zone out to be around them.”

They stopped. No one got on, the man remained at the front.

When Tommy was around them, he would have to do that. Zone out. Sometimes it wasn’t on purpose, other times he just found himself begging to just go, anywhere else, but he was too aware to go away, their voices were too loud and the air was too cold and Tommy couldn’t fucking breathe—

He didn’t feel that way all weekend.

Tommy didn’t feel trapped. He was in the present. He was in the present and he was happy. If not just for a few moments, Tommy was okay and he didn’t have to think about anything else.

“So it worked,” Tommy said. “It did! We’re working on it; this weekend was fucking great though. I know how to make a Molotov Cocktail now—“

“You what —“

“I didn’t actually make one,” Tommy emphasized. “I was just taught how! It’s quite easy actually! Ranboos' cousin, one of his friends just... it was a lot of vandalism advice.”

Wilbur groaned. “Please do not get arrested for vandalism. You need better influences.”

“You’re a bad influence,” Tommy waved him off. “don’t worry big man. Can’t come to see you if I’m arrested. Sam would also kill me. In cold blood. Dead, I would be dead as fuck, man.”

If Sam had to bail him out for something as stupid as setting something on fire, he would be so fucked. Oh, Sam was so fucking overbearing when he was paying attention, he would never hang out with Ranboo again. Or Tubbo for that matter. Sam would deadbolt his door closed. Tommy would never see the sun again. Screw prison, Sam would lock him up himself.

Tommy will not be doing that, thank you. If anyone offered to help him burn something down, he would certainly not be taking it.

They stopped. A woman got on, the clanking of her jewelry as she sat down echoing in Tommy’s ears.

“How am I a bad influence?” Wilbur enquired.

“HAH!” Tommy blurted. “Look at me! Mr. Soot! I go on trains in the middle of the night! I gamble with teenagers. I am suuuuuuch a good role model.”

“I do not gamble with teenagers!” Wilbur cried. “No money has been placed! I told you that!” Wilbur accused. “Also I am not the one telling you to blow stuff up.”

“ Memememememe — I said nothing about blowing anything up,” Tommy argued. “I was at most implying arson. I said absolutely nothing about exploding shit! That’s you!”

Wilbur slapped his hand against his forehead. “Oh, you insolent child!”

“Oh, you cryptic old man!”

Wilbur shot up. “Hey!”

“I hardly know anything about you,” Tommy retorted. “You— you could be a war criminal or something for all I know—“

“Do I look like a fucking war criminal to you?” Wilbur interrupted.

“... You could be!” Tommy exclaimed. “What’s your favorite color?”

“What is your favorite color?”

“Red. Answer the question.”

Wilbur groaned. “Blue. Used to be teal.”

“Why did it change?” Tommy pressed.

“There is not enough of it here,” Oh god, Tommy thought. Here we go. “The sky is cloudy. The water is gray. It is muted, it is drowning in black and white film instead of saturation. I wish there was more of it. Especially down here.” He longed, Tommy was exasperated.

“Wilbur, we are underground. Look at the graffiti.” Tommy deadpanned. “Or just go on Google man. Color blue— not everything needs to be a Greek tragedy.”

“That is not a natural blue,” Wilbur objected. “It is artificial! From a spray bottle, or on a screen!”

“I’ll bring you some flowers or something, okay?” Tommy snapped. “You’ll get your fucking blue.”

“I will sneeze on you.”

Tommy hit the side of the seat. “You will not!”

Wilbur made a face, rearing his head back. “A—a— ACCHOO. Like that. But you will not be expecting it.”

“Fuck you! And your blue!” Tommy exclaimed, Wilbur cackled.

“And why do you like the color red so much then?”

There was no special reason as to why Tommy enjoyed red. When teachers asked in primary school he gave it as a response, no deep or intricate thought attached to it. That was the difference between him and Wilbur. Everything Wilbur did and said seemed to have some sort of deep thought attached to it, everything he said was planned out, and said carefully.

Tommy was decidedly not that.

Tommy existed in the moment and Wilbur existed around it, quietly observing. Whispering. Taking notes.

“No reason,” Tommy shrugged. “It’s just kinda nice. Loud.”

“Like you.” Wilbur teased.

Tommy groaned, hitting the back of his head against the glass. “Stop patronizing me! I’m done doing color theory with you!”

“Oh I can do color theory—“

Tommy put his hands out, gesturing for him to stop. “No, no. Please do not. I’m begging you. I can only handle so much of your monologues.”

Wilbur scoffed. “My ‘monologues’ are fantastic, I will have you know.”

“You should write songs,” Tommy said. “You’re a right emo; you— you— you could take all that messed up shit up there,” Tommy pointed. “and make stuff. I dunno.”

“I mean I used to,” Wilbur breathed. “not anymore though.”

“Why not?” Tommy pushed.

“Have not felt like it.” He said simply. “No fun in doing it anymore. Can not even sing to anyone.”

Tommy’s brows furrowed. “That’s shit,” he grumbled.

“Poor me, having to exist being friendless!” Wilbur sighed. Tommy knew he was being dramatic, but it still made Tommy glare.

“Hey!” Tommy objected. “I’m your friend!”

“That just makes me sad,” Wilbur groaned, rubbing his face. “we are friends?”

“ Nooo,” Tommy drawled. “I only meet mere acquaintances on the tube line in the middle of the night.”

“You came back here because of our deal,” Wilbur pointed out. Tommy’s brows creased, because technically he was right. To be proven right, to be proven wrong, that’s why he kept coming here. Some sort of odd mutual trust and genuine curiosity enabled Tommy to keep coming back.

Sam might call it a lack of self-preservation.

And he wouldn’t be wrong, sneaking out in the middle of the night, to a tube station, alone, to meet a practical stranger was in every right dangerous. The first time Wilbur had stumbled into the seat across from him, Tommy couldn’t bring himself to care about that part, the danger. If Wilbur had mugged him then and there it wouldn’t have changed anything.

Once again, the thought of not seeing Wilbur again was bothering Tommy. Did Tommy want to make another deal? To continue this odd tradition? Tommy felt, alright. Kinda. He was happy. This was a good weekend. His classes yesterday were bearable, the overwhelming feeling to pull his hair out was muffled under the warmth in his chest.

Did feeling better mean he would never see Wilbur again? Surely they could keep doing this. Just a... check-up.

“You should play again,” Tommy suggested. “if not for anyone else, then just for yourself ya know?”

“Do you play anything?” Wilbur asked.

“I know piano,” Tommy thought. He hadn’t played said instrument in a bit. He had a keyboard that sat in his closet collecting dust. He hadn’t taken it out since he moved into the flat with Sam. “I haven’t played it in a while. Too much noise.”

Their stop was coming, Tommy realized. Tommy hit his leg awake, standing up. “Guess we will dive into that later,” Wilbur said. Tommy shook his head.

“No, no,” Tommy was going to put a stop to that right now. “I’m not you. There’s no deep, depressing reason. I just don’t play anymore. Stop psyche evaluating me, or whatever the fuck you people call it.”

“Alright, alright.” Wilbur said lightly. Taking the lead as Tommy followed him out. “Are you still going to get pins?” Tommy hummed an ‘mm-hmm’ in response.

“I like the pins,” Tommy confirmed. “Do you want anything?”

Wilbur shrugged him off. “Nah,” He waved. “Knick knacks, I would have no use for that. Nowhere to put them.”

“Are you homeless?” Okay, that was a bit rude, Tommy would admit. But that slipped, alright? “Because that would explain a lot actually.”

“ No,” Wilbur said immediately. “I have a house, Tommy.” He groaned in exasperation. “Believe it or not, I can exist in different places other than a tube station. ”

“No, but it makes sense! Every time I see you you’re wearing the same shit!”

“It is my Tuesday jumper,” Wilbur defended. “I already told you that.”

“ It is my Tuesday jumper .” Tommy mocked. “Fuck you. You don’t have a house.”

They stopped outside the glowing Jack Of All Trades sign.

“Get something cool this time. Like an orca.” Wilbur suggested as Tommy pushed open the glass door, Tommy mumbling a ‘will do’.

Jack leaned over the counting, scrolling through his phone. His eyes met Tommy as he strolled further into the shop. “Hello again!” He put his phone down on the counter. “I was wonderin’ if you were gonna show up.”

“It’s become a habit,” Tommy said, reaching into the bowl.

“What’s ya name again?” Jack enquired.

Oh, Tommy realized. “Tommy,” He answered. He took the blood-orange-flame-shaped pin in his hand, placing it on the glass counter.

“You’re gonna run me out of pins,” Jack joked, sliding the pounds over to the register.

“You’re gonna run me broke,” Tommy joked back. He clipped the pin in, securing it. “Bye Jack!”

Jack waved as Tommy pushed out the door. Wilbur stood waiting for him, raising his eyebrow as Tommy showed him the new pin. “You did not get an orca,” Wilbur pointed, disappointed.

“He didn’t have any orcas, big dubs. Is that why you got banned?” Tommy asked, turning backward as he walked in front of Wilbur. “He didn’t have any orca merch? Is that it, Wilbur? Have I cracked the mystery yet?”

“Nope!” Tommy’s excitement visibly dropped. “Good guess! Still wrong.”

“ Ughhhh, ” Tommy groaned, kicking a stone. “Fuck you, man. Just tell meee,” Tommy begged.

“No,”

“Please.”

“Still no.”

“Did you steal something?”

“No.”

“Did you kill his mother?”

“ What ?!— Tommy, no!”

“Are you a felon, Wilbur?”

“Let me stop you while you are ahead,” Wilbur said. “The answer is no, no, and no. To everything.”

Fuck you, Tommy thought. He didn’t like not knowing things. He’d figure it out. He would drop it for now, because this clearly wasn’t getting anywhere, but he’ll make Wilbur slip. He will! He just needs to catch him off guard. He could do that! Outsmarting Wilbur would be a feat, an accomplishment.

“I’ll figure it out, you watch,” Tommy grumbled.

“Good luck with that Toms,” Wilbur hummed.

“I don’t need luck,” Tommy stated. “Just my big brain.”

“You do have a big head,” Okay, that was mean, Tommy thought.

“That was unnecessarily rude,” Tommy stated. “I can’t believe you’ve done this to me, Wilbur. My self-esteem. It’s ruined.”

“Oh come on,” Wilbur retorted. “I have a big forehead. Look.” Wilbur lifted the curly bangs that framed the front of his face.

“Oh no,” Tommy cried. “Don’t do that, please. My eyes! I can’t stare directly at it!”

Wilbur fixed his hair, chuckling. “My jumper buddy used to call me Forehead-Bur.”

Tommy snickered. “Jumper buddy sounds cool.”

“He really is not. He is a real loser.”

“Like you?” Tommy chortled.

Wilbur scoffed. “Shut it!”

When they got to the station, two women were standing together on the platform. Tommy nodded politely while Wilbur simply ignored them. When it had pulled in, Tommy trailed Wilbur to the back. The two women had sat down at the front.

“Got any plans for this week?” Wilbur asked, Tommy shrugged.

“Got a test Thursday. That’s about it.” Tommy thought. “I think Tubbo wanted to go to the mall Friday, dunno. I’ll have to text him.”

It would be the next time that Tommy would see him; his, Ranboo’s and Tubbo’s schedules made it difficult to see each other during the week. Tommy was no longer actively avoiding them now, though. Maybe Tommy could set up a game of Pub G, or CSGO.

He was starting to feel guilty for blowing them off, actually. Tommy would have to make up for that. He didn’t really regret coming to see Wilbur, he couldn’t. If Tommy was given the choice between playing a first-person shooter game on a Tuesday night with them versus… this…

Tommy knew what he would choose.

They stopped. No one on or off.

“You have anything planned?” Tommy asked.

Wilbur did not look like he was expecting to be asked. “Hmm,” He wondered. “Might go see my dad. Been a bit.”

Tommy did not know why that had shocked him so much. A father! Everyone had a father, Tommy knew that alright? That was completely logical.

Wilbur had just, given off the feeling of someone who didn’t have anyone. Wilbur was a feather floating in the wind. Tommy supposed that feather had to come from a bird then, perhaps it was missing it.

“You should bring your dad something,” Tommy said, shaking off the frown.

“Like what?”

“Like— like a snowglobe or something man, I don’t fucking know. Flowers!”

“He likes birds,” Wilbur thought aloud.

“Chicken,” Tommy decided.

“ No,”

“Chicken,” Tommy repeated. “You gotta let me know how that goes next time.”

“Next time?”

Oh.

They stopped. The two women left, the brunette left quickly while the blonde frowned at him.

Tommy forgot that they hadn’t even thought of another deal yet. Did they need that at this point? Couldn’t Tommy just show up and trust that Wilbur would be there, deal in the air or not?

“I... I—I think I want to keep doing this?” Tommy admitted, pulling at his hair. “Showing up. And talking, to you, ya know? I enjoy it. I keep thinking like, what deal, what bet this time we could make again. And nothing comes up.”

“You want another deal?

“Do you?” Tommy asked, genuinely. “I don’t… I don’t want to make you feel like you have to come back here.”

They stopped. A small group got on, this time kids around Tommy’s age holding bottles wrapped in brown bags.

Wilbur thought for a moment, like he was mewling over his next words carefully. “As long as you need me, we can keep doing this,” Wilbur said softly.

Catharsis, there it was. Tommy swallowed. “Okay. We can do that.” It was another deal, in all technicality. An extended one at that. Conditional.

But Tommy was relieved from that pressure of not knowing if there will be a next time. Because now he knows for sure there will be! And another after that!

Wilbur might have started as a buffer to what Tommy considered the inevitable, a simple delay. Despite the serotonin high that he had for the past few days, Tommy hadn’t forgotten about Wilbur. He hadn’t forgotten about why he met him in the first place.

Did he want to anymore?

Tommy didn’t have an answer, apparently.

That’s why he needed these meetings with Wilbur to continue, they got him to the end of the week, they got him through his current problems. He helped him fix his relationship with Tubbo and Ranboo. Maybe Tommy wanted to figure out what he could solve before he left. What he fixes— then he’ll decide.

He’d make up his mind then.

Because was Tommy’s decision to make, not Wilbur’s. Not Sam’s, not Tubbo’s, not Ranboo’s. His. He knew that. Alright! Tommy knew that.

They stopped. The loud group got off.

Tommy eyed them as they left. “It looks like you asked the wrong teenager for booze,”

Wilbur cackled, his boisterous laugh filling the now mostly empty train car. “I had forgotten I did that,” He giggled, wiping away at his eye.

“I didn’t!” Tommy pointed. “Man, I thought you were going to stab me. Or demand for my wallet. Or both.”

“You thought I was going to mug you?”

“You asked me for booze!”

“I was breaking the ice!”

“You break the ice by asking for alcohol ?”

“Yeah! You looked miserable. I thought you could use a good laugh.”

“I didn’t,” Tommy said. “I clicked a pen at you. I was prepared to stab you with that in case you were a wrongun.”

“Oh no, ink poisoning,” Wilbur dismayed. “What will I do?”

“Go to the ER,” Tommy replied. “But you’re probably banned from that too.” Wilbur was silent. Tommy had meant that as a joke. “Wilbur…”

“It is a long story,”

“Oh my god.”

“It is!”

“Geez man,” Tommy rubbed his temple. “And you scold me for making jokes about Molotov Cocktails!”

“They are mini bombs.”

“And you’re not allowed in places in half of England!”

“I did not set anything ablaze, Tommy,” Wilbur said, rising. His stop was next. The night was coming to an end. “Try not to get arrested between now and next week.”

There it was, his confirmation. “No promises big man!” The train was stopping. “Try to stop pissing people off!”

“See you, Tommy!” Wilbur stepped out, not looking back at Tommy.

When they moved again, Tommy startlingly realized that he was alone. Just him. Two weeks ago, Tommy would’ve killed for this. He would’ve died for this.

Tommy sat alone, and the flashing markers of the tunnel were too bright and the rumbling, vibrating feeling of the tube going at its ungodly speed was nauseating because Tommy should’ve been—

He could’ve been—

Tommy shook his head. Squeezing his eyes shut. He could drown out the lights. He was okay. He was alone, and that was okay. It didn’t matter. Being alone didn’t make a difference. Nothing changed. The time of the night was really starting to become very prominent to Tommy. He wanted to go home and just sleep. Tommy checked his phone, no new messages other than some old Instagram notifications.

When his stop came up, he practically bounced up and sprinted off of the train, pushing past a concerned-looking ginger woman. He was up the steps before the train could even pull out.

Tommy was alive for right now, and he was okay with that.

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [18]

Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 18.5 OR Chapter 19

➜ Words: 4.5k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

It’s funny how things come and go in life.   The longer you live and the more things you experience, you realize just how fickle living can be. The events that you anticipate the most come and go while the ones you dread linger. The people you expect to stay with you leave — and the people you expect to leave end up staying.    Similarly, the internship that you had been so worried and excited for was finally finished.    It was sad to say goodbye and to leave the shop behind. You genuinely loved being there, learning and spending your time perfecting your craft. Even bratty Yuna was sad to bid you farewell — the two of you had grown fond of each other over the months, so you sent her a card right when you got home yourself and you heard from Namjoon that she had pinned it on her wall.   Luckily, you knew that this goodbye wouldn’t be a permanent one. It was different to other goodbyes you’ve had in the past.    Namjoon and Sejeong assured both you and Jungkook a million times that it was only temporary — that they’d be happy to hire you back after your schooling is finished if you so happened to choose to work for them again. And it’s a proposition that still interests you greatly. You’re not sure what Jungkook wants to do — but you know you’d love to return and continue making wedding cakes under their mentorship someday.   But for now you had to return on your path.   The end of Summer was quickly approaching, and you find yourself coming back to where it started.   Well. Sort of.   In actuality, you were standing on Jungkook’s parents’ doorstep. Suitcase in hand. Full of hesitance and uncertainty. Fingers kept away from the doorbell. You’re not sure if this is a place that would welcome you again. But Jungkook had insisted. He pressed on, insisting that you should visit his family again, to at least come see him for a few days with the Summer that remained left.   He whined about how much he missed you. And you had to admit, you missed him too.   So here you were, like a complete idio—   “God, okay! I’m throwing out the trash now!”   The door opens.    The boy freezes. He stares at you with rounded eyes as you stare back at him. He’s dressed in a worn t-shirt and gym shorts, flopping hair sticking out in all directions like he just woke up even though it’s well past noon. One hand is on the handle, the other is holding a black garbage bag.   Slowly the corner of your mouth quirks. “Hi.”   A stupidly big grin plasters across Jungkook’s face and spreads into his cheeks as his eyes light up with mirth. Jungkook’s voice softens. “When’d you get here?”   “Just now.”   He drops the garbage and is about to come and hug you, but something shoots out from between his legs to engulf you in a tight embrace instead.   “Y/N!” Eunbi’s summer dress flutters in the breeze and you lift her up as best as you can with a smile.   Lia follows quickly behind, wearing a big smile and she turns over her shoulder. “Y/N’s here!”   “She’s here?” Someone comes stumbling from the kitchen, throwing her kitchen towel aside.   Jungkook’s dad comes out from the backyard, having heard the ruckus. “She’s here.”   “She’s here!” Eunbi repeats in giggles and your arms widen when Lia joins in greeting you with a hug.   Jungkook sighs wistfully, separated from you by his overbearing family members.   Yet, all the worries you had about being welcomed or not instantly vanishes.   They greet you warmly — Jungkook’s dad asking how you’ve been, how exams and classes and the internship was. You’re bombarded with curious questions and enthusiastic answers, only spared when Jungkook’s mom pulls you to the kitchen where she has a whole countertop of food prepared.   She wasn’t sure what you liked to eat, so she made everything she could when she heard you were coming and you can’t find it in your heart to reject her hard efforts. So you consume as much as you can before Eunbi tugs you aside to join her tea party with Lia. You find out their parents have gone for a last-minute trip, so they’ve been staying at their aunt’s and uncle’s, obviously having a blast by the looks of it, especially now with you here.   It’s only when Jungkook turns on a Disney movie and makes them sit down to watch that he’s finally able to sneak you away.   “Sorry about that.”   He shuts the door to his room, sighing at how difficult it was to get a hold of you in his own house.   “It’s okay. I love your family.”   “That makes one of us,” Jungkook mutters and sulks. “You try spending twenty four hours a day seven days a week with them and see how they can drive you nuts.”   “Aww, poor baby. Your family cares about you, how horrible.” Your voice drips of sarcasm and you feign sympathy, reaching over to pat him on the back.    Jungkook scoffs but takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you. He leans down enough to accommodate for the height difference and he props his chin on your shoulder. His nose digs into your hair, breathing in. You’re ticklish from his grip. “Jungkook…”   “I missed you.”   “It’s only been what?” You rest your head on his shoulder, giving into his warmth. “Two weeks?”   “Long enough.”   “School starts in another week. If I didn’t come, you still would’ve seen me.”   “Yeah, but what if I died before then and couldn’t see you ever again?” he whines and it’s hard to resist the small smile tugging at your lips.   But you manage to pull away from him and roll your eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”   The boy grins and takes a seat on his chair by his old computer desk while you plop down onto the edge of his bed. “So….what have you been up to?”   “You act like we haven’t called and texted each other every single day.”   “Yeah, but I don’t know what the trip was like up here.”   “Fair enough,” you hum. “I guess all that really happened is that I sat next to this really handsome man on the bus here who shared my interests and hobbies. And we had a hot, passionate summer fling and we decided to make this a long-term thing, so we’re getting married. Sorry to say, Jeon, but you’ve lost your chance.”   You laugh and his eye twitches.    In an instant, you’re being pinned to his mattress with Jungkook hovering above you. His knee wedges between your legs, hands pressed flat next to your head. The dark strands of his hair grazes against your forehead and you sink deeper into his pillows. But even in such a compromising position, you can’t help but muse how cute he looks feigning anger like this.   “I’m trying to be nice here, but you’re always testing my patience, brat. You really think I won’t kill you one day?”   “You wouldn’t.” You quirk your head to the side, hands grasping at his forearms. Your eyes glimmer with a challenge before they flicker up to the posters lining his wall. “Not with IU watching.”   He grins, a small laugh coming from his nose. “Jieun would understand.”   You snort and he helps you sit up. “Do your parents know…?”   “No. Otherwise, you’d be on the phone with my grandma right now. They’re overbearing enough as it is.”   You nod. “They don’t think it’s weird that I’m here?”   “No.” Jungkook scoffs. “God, they love you. Isn’t it obvious? They think you’re a ‘good influence’ on me. Better than Taehyung and Jimin are, at least. Those two are just idiots no matter where they go, so my parents are always concerned that all of us will get into fender benders.”   He uses air quotes when he says ‘good influence’ and you bat his arm. “I am a good influence on you.”   “Uh-huh.” Jungkook eyes you skeptically. “They should see you when you get mad—”   “I don’t get mad.”   “—and when you start swearing. Or the amount of dirty, dirty things you can say…”   “Jungkook,” your whine tapers off when he suddenly lays a hand on your upper thigh. Jungkook’s half-lidded eyes and heavy gaze flickers down to your lips. He starts to lean in, head angling and your breath catches in your throat in eager anticipation. Your eyes flutter shut.   But you never feel the velvet texture of Jungkook’s lips against yours.    Instead, there’s a loud knock that startles you both to death. Then, the door opens. And the boy, whose lap you were nearly perched on, is already back on his desk chair, whirling around.   “Hey, Y/N.” Jungkook’s dad is smiling wide. “What are you guys up to?”   “We’re just talking,” his son deadpans. “Is there something you need?”   “Nope.” The middle-aged man who uncannily has Jungkook’s eyes leans on the doorframe with arms crossed casually. “Just thought I’d pop by, see what’s going on, let you know your mom thinks you two can bring Lia and Eunbi into town to pick up some groceries….”   “Okay. We can do that later.”   There’s a terrible, awkward silence as Jungkook’s dad hangs around. It makes the younger frown. “Is there something wrong?”   “No.” He shakes his head, slowly starting to turn away before Jungkook dies in modification. But then he stops and looks back with a smile playing at his lips. “You guys should keep the door open though. House policy. Not mine but your mother’s. You know...she doesn’t want any funny business happening.”   “Dad.”   “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.” His hands are lifted up in the air and he laughs it off. The older man pushes the door so it’s wide open and then waltzes away.   Jungkook’s sigh is long enough to empty out his lungs and you giggle at their interaction.   The walk to town is lovely. The end of Summer keeps the weather from sweltering or being uncomfortable. It’s warm with a brisk wind kissing against your cheeks.   You consider just how cozy this town is, small houses and big lawns, white picket fences and scalloped shingle rooftops. The grocery store is modest too and several people greet Jungkook when he enters, asking how he’s been and if you're someone special to him.   It’s a place where everyone knows everyone and it’s cute. You never considered Jungkook to be a small town boy, but it’s somehow fitting.   “We need to get apples, cucumbers, scallions….” He flips over the list, trying to discern his mom’s chicken scratch as he pushes the shopping cart. “Uh…..that either says potatoes or tomatoes.”   “Can we get this?!” Eunbi holds up a box bigger than her body. The doll inside is smiling.   Jungkook doesn’t even glance at it. “No.”   “Awww.”   The four of you walk down the cereal aisle and Jungkook stops for a detour. He picks two to compare and concentrates too hard for such a menial task. “I didn’t know cereal was on our list,” you say while peeking over his shoulder.   “I like cereal,” he mumbles.   In spite of taking a full minute on deliberating what brand he wants, Jungkook ends up settling for both. He places them into the cart and continues pushing it down the aisle while humming. You keep a watch on Eunbi in the meanwhile to make sure she doesn’t get lost, but soon Lia comes back with something in hand. “Y/N, can we please make this together?”   The seven year old has a bright, red box of chewy fudge brownie mix. Automatically, you and Jungkook’s faces twist in abhorrent disgust.   “It says we just need...egg, water, and oil!” she reads off of it proudly.   “No, we don’t need a box to make brownies,” you coax with a smile. “We can make it fresher. A few more steps and it’ll taste worlds better than the box.”   “Really?”   “Really.”   “Yay!” Eunbi’s loudly cheering in the middle of the grocery store, arms in the air and hopping up and down. “We get brownies!”   “What’s even in here?” Jungkook takes the box and flips it around. His eyes narrow in on the tiny letters of the ingredient list. “Sugar, enriched bleached wheat flour? What’s carrageenan? Pft, artificial flavour?” He arrogantly tosses it aside. “We don’t need that. We’re professionals.”   You snort. “Uh-huh. A professional who doesn’t even know how to make a moist cake.”   “At least I can temper chocolate,” he bites back without skipping a beat — without blinking or taking a breath. When Jungkook sees your shocked expression, he laughs heartily and throws an arm over your shoulder, nuzzling into you. “I’m kidding. Kidding.”   You scoff, throw his arm off of you. “No, you aren’t.”   “Are you fighting?” Eunbi grabs a hold of your shirt, tugging lightly.   “Only because Jungkook is mean,” you tell with an exaggerated pout.   It’s his turn to be offended. “You just said my cakes weren’t moist!”   You ignore him. “Let’s go, children. We don’t interact with bullies.”   Lia and Eunbi giggle, happy to go along with you and leave Jungkook in the dust, scrambling to roll the shopping cart behind you.   Eventually, the groceries are paid for and the walk back turns out to be equally enjoyable.    Once the four of you arrive back to the house, his parents are out working in the garden, so you and Jungkook put away the groceries together and pull out the necessary ingredients for brownies.   “We can probably make two batches.”   “I wanna do it with Y/N!” Lia immediately exclaims, jumping to your side. She leaves her younger sister frowning and on the verge of tears.   “No, I wanna!”   “How about me?” Jungkook stands in the middle of his own kitchen at a complete loss. It causes laughter to bubble from you.   “Okay, all three of us can do it together and we can verse Jungkook. How about that?”   They nod and Lia tells her cousin that he’s going down, teasing him mercilessly and you indulge them about how you’re better than Jungkook in everything at school — something he adamantly protests about.   Soon, all of you get to work. You teach them how to preheat the oven, grease the pans, and watch as the half cup of butter is melted in a saucepan. Lia and Eunbi help you measure out one cup of sugar and they each crack an egg into the butter.    Three quarter cups of cocoa are shifted into the mixture along with a half cup of flour, a quarter teaspoon of salt and a quarter teaspoon of baking powder. You show the two girls how to fold the ingredients gently together and you catch them a moment before they’re about to spoon the batter into their mouths.   They give stretching smiles and you help them spread it into a pan instead to bake.   It’s put in for half an hour, slightly underdone so it’s sweet and still gooey.   “It smells wonderful in here,” Jungkook’s mom gasps as she enters, taking off her garden gloves and wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “Did you make something special?”   “Look auntie!” Eunbi is jumping, hands jittery, on a sugar high. “We made brownies!”   “Did you now?” She peers over the counter, brows raising. “My goodness, they look amazing.”   “We helped make them with Y/N,” Lia announces, mouth smeared in chocolate.   “Did you thank Y/N yet for showing you how to make them?”   Both girls instantly whirl around, thanking you with bashful and shy smiles. In the meanwhile, Jungkook’s mom is unable to resist and reaches over for a brownie. She groans at the taste and smacks her lips together.    “Don’t eat too much or it’ll ruin your appetite,” she says — much like how Jungkook often reminds you — and ironically bites into her brownie again. The woman turns to you. “These are delicious, dear.”   “They weren’t too hard to make.”   “You should show me the recipe, I’d love to bake these again.”   “I’ve made these before!” Jungkook complains in a higher pitched voice, eating his own brownies when no one takes them out of his pan.   But no one pays mind to him. Not his mother or his twirling cousins. “Of course, I can.”   You, on the other hand, do pay attention to Jungkook. You grin at him as he glares. And only later when there’s a moment of privacy will he tickle you as revenge for making his entire family love you more than him. It’s then that he finally gets the chance to kiss you too.   //   Dinner with the Jeon family is as you would expect it to be. Everyone inhales all the food and chit chats with one another. There’s warm banter shared across the dinner table as his parents make him talk about the trip to Tahiti, how the internship was and if he was on his best behaviour.   He gives you discreet, defeated looks to show how he’s so done with them and it’s hard to stifle your giggles.   Afterwards, you help him do the dishes as his cousins turn on a movie to watch and his parents finish off the brownies you made. Not long after that, everybody begins to retreat to their rooms.   “Aw, do we have to go to bed?”   “Yes. Don’t you want to help plant the flowers tomorrow?” Jungkook’s mom smooths out her hair. “Only big girls can help and you can only get big if you sleep and get strong.”   “Okay.” Lia sulks. “But can I at least say goodnight to Y/N?”   “Yes.” The older woman offers a rather maternal smile. “You can.”   Lia runs to you down the hall right as you leave the bathroom with your toothbrush in hand, catching you off guard. She hugs you tight. “Goodnight, Y/N!”   Eunbi is hot on her sister’s heels and you stumble back when she throws herself at you too. “Night, night, Y/N!”   “Goodnight, you two.”   “Can we play tomorrow?”   You ruffle the five year old’s hair. “Course we can.”   She beams and hops back, following her aunt. Her uncle is already inside their room, holding up books. “Who’s ready for story time?”   “Me!” Lia runs off and waves to you.   At the same time, Jungkook leaves his room to see their retreating forms and scoffs. “Wow, are they not going to wish me a goodnight?”   You slap his arm, laughing. “Stop being so jealous all the time. I can’t help that I’m so lovable.”   He scoffs and affectionately pokes your forehead with his index finger. “I can’t even argue with that.” The corner of his mouth curls and you grin.   Jungkook has that look in his eyes — the one you’ve learnt to recognize. He looks like he wants to kiss you, like he’s about to do it too, but the pair of you are interrupted by someone lingering in the hallway.   “Y/N, you’re sleeping in the guest bedroom, right?”   His mom looks at you and you nod quickly. “Yes, I am.”   “Good.” She relaxes and bobs her head. “Jungkook, you go back to your room now. There’s a long day tomorrow.”   He sighs, but doesn’t argue.   Jungkook turns right back around into his room and keeps the door slightly open for a second, enough to give you an incredulous look. It makes you smile and mouth ‘goodnight’ to him before he shuts the door.   His mom brings you to the guest bedroom, helping you set up for the night and asking if you need extra blankets and pillows.   “Are you sure everything’s okay?”   “Yes, it is. Thank you, Mrs. Jeon.”   “If you’re ever cold, feel free to grab anything from the closet.” When you nod, she gets to the door. Jungkook’s mom is about to turn off the light, but lingers. She twists around to share a smile with you. “Thank you for coming, Y/N. I’m glad to see you again.”   “No, thank you.” You’re caught off guard by her words of gratitude. “Honestly, I didn’t want to be such a bother.”   “You aren’t. Trust me.” She laughs, a tinkling sound emitting from her chest. “I’ve always wanted a daughter like you. Jungkook is two more handfuls than I can handle sometimes, especially when he was young.” The older woman shakes his head with a fond expression. “He might not look like it but he’s still very much a child. I worry about him being gone so far for so long out of the entire year. So, I’m glad there’s someone like you looking out for him.”   You’re touched by her sincerity, but you can’t help but feel like she’s gotten it wrong.   You awkwardly shift your weight from one foot to the other. “Mrs. Jeon—”   “You can call me auntie, if you’d like.”   You nod timidly. “Jungkook actually looks out for me a lot more than I do for him. He really helped me through a lot of tough times, so really, I should be the one thanking him….”   She smiles, the wrinkles around her eyes creasing. “Then I’m even more grateful that Jungkook’s not hopeless. It’s good that the two of you have one another.”   Part of you wants to tell her that you’re unequivocally in love with her son. But by the twinkle in her eye, you get a sense that she already knows the true nature between you and Jungkook.   You don’t need to say it aloud or make any announcements.   Her smile becomes more tender in the small silence and then she finally bids you a goodnight, flicking off the lights in the room.   You end up laying there for a while. You receive Jungkook’s text telling you this is so dumb and you laugh. The bright lights of your phone eventually burns your eyes too much, so you throw it aside, opting to stare at the ceiling and listen to his house.   You can hear doors closing, footsteps, the flicker of the hallway light turning off and more doors closing. Silence settles in for a good ten minutes, but before you can completely drift off to sleep, your door cracks open.   A familiar boy sneaks into your room with a soft sigh. He shuts the door silently and nimbly avoids all the creaks in the floorboards, knowing where each of them are after growing up and spending his childhood in these four walls.   “You’re not supposed to be here.” You sit up, covers pooling around your waist.   His feet slide and the mattress dips underneath his weight. “And I care because…?”   You scoff. “Rebellious, aren’t you, Jeon?”   “You don’t even know the start of it.” He grins. “I just want to lay with you for a while. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before.”   “But your parents don’t know that. What happens if they catch you here?” you ask while peeling back the covers anyhow, happily inviting him in.   “Nothing will happen. It’s okay.”   “Yeah, but they might hate me...for tainting their son.”   “Impossible.” Jungkook settles in and pulls the covers up to keep you warm. You cuddle yourself into him and he props his chin on top of your head. “And they don’t care about that. They just don’t want any Jeon grandkids, or at least not until we graduate.”   “Psh. You’re going to have to prove yourself before you implant anything in my uterus, Jeon.”   His nose wrinkles at your euphemism, but then he pokes your side, making you squirm. “Prove myself? Haven’t I already?”   “Just cause I let you kiss me a few times doesn’t mean I have plans to make this long-term,” you tease and this time he’s the one scoffing.    Jungkook rolls on top of you, pinning you underneath him. The soft glow of the lamp posts outside on the suburban street comes through the window and when your eyes adjust to the darkness, you’re able to discern a few of his features — especially that sulking expression of his.   Jungkook’s such a baby sometimes. Or at least he likes to be babied by you. Yoongi, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin would shit themselves if they saw him now. But it makes you happy to be the only one who can see this endearing side of him.   “What more do you want to put me through, hmm?”   You cock your head to the side. “Who knows, you might just get bored of me in a few weeks, Jeon. Better not to jump the gun.”   “I don’t think so. What do you take me for? Someone with that low of an attention span?”   “Well…” You draw out the syllable. “Last I checked, you still don’t know how to make flowers with gum paste.”   His tongue clicks in annoyance and he starts to tickle you again at your weakest parts. You squirm underneath him, giggling as your legs kick to no avail. It makes the bed squeak, the headboard hitting against the wall and Jungkook laughs and quickly lets up. He covers your mouth with his palm. “Shush! You’re going to wake them up.”   You peel off his hand, harshly whispering, “You started it.”   Jungkook’s smile is big enough to make his cheeks hurt. He missed you — your company, warmth, the teasing banter. It’s hard to fathom that his best friend is actually here with him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.   Jungkook leans down, locking his lips against yours. Your soft mouths slots against each other like it’s the way it always should have been and he relishes in the groan you release.    It’s a gentle kiss, one that merely tests the waters and then he pulls away.   You blink up at him, breath leaving through your parted lips that now taste like his vanilla chapstick. “No funny business, remember?”   “I know.” Jungkook gets off of you, resuming his place by your side. “But I wasn’t planning any ‘funny business’. Where has your mind gone too?”   Your cheeks heat. “I’m just saying.”   He chuckles softly, arm slung across your waist. You’re pulled close as he nestles in. It’s easy to relax and your hand lifts to wrap around his back. The both of you hold each other for a while in the comfortable darkness underneath the cozy covers. You’re lulled in his company.   “Jungkook.”   “Hmm?”   “You can’t fall asleep here.”   “I know,” he mumbles.   But contrary to Jungkook’s words, he does fall asleep with you — sharing the same bed like those nights in Tahiti. Only in the morning, when dawn breaks and the morning light comes through the glass windows are you both naturally shaken awake.    It’s then that Jungkook scratches his bed hair flopping in all directions, eyes swollen as he stumbles back to his own bedroom. And you drift back to sleep with a softened smile on your face.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 29

First time reader click here

Feels like this story is flopping. Is it flopping? Idk. This chapter is 100% plot and it is spooky. Cursed demon box. Helpful Stephen Strange and grumpy Wong. Hovering Bruce and Tony. Loki being a honorary Gen-Z. Found family but make it ✨superheroes✨.

"That's a lot to unpack," Peter stated once I had given him the bare bones report of the situation at hand. "Uh, are you okay?" The boy was obviously upset at my predicament, placing a supportive hand on my shoulder.

"Kinda?" I offered, making space for Wanda and Pietro who decided to join me and Peter, away from the arguing adults. The mission discussion - an absolute disaster - started as soon as Peter had walked in. Evidently experienced in such matters, the boy ignored the bickering and came over to steal me from Bruce's clutches to peacefully finish his egg sandwich in the company of his peers.

"I wanted to ask if I could see your memory of that time," Wanda meekly offered me a piece of candy. I accepted it - sugar sweet sugar, how I love thee so! The witch continued with a smile: "I think it would be helpful to see what we're dealing with, magic-wise."

"Sure," I trusted her. "Just don't scramble what's left of my sanity, please," All of us laughed at my remark as I laid down on the cold floor with my head in Wanda's lap. Her powers felt like small brain zaps, tingles that began at the front of my forehead and ran down into my spine. I followed her instructions and thought about the times I remembered, finding the box, placing it into my closet, the nightmares. I had a mild headache by the time she was done; no grudges against her - Wanda tactfully avoided my private moments and looked only at the ones containing the artifact.

"You've gotten really good," I complimented her with pure adoration.

"Thank you," She blushed, smoothing back my stray hairs. "That stuff is really strong. I don't think you should go near the box," She admitted. "And Doc should take a look at you. You have a residue left. I don't think that's good either."

"Well, fuck," I said in muted resignation.

"Press F to pay respects," Pietro joked in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

"Your luck is almost as bad as mine," Peter pointed out.

I scoffed. "Well, if I see any spiders around, I'll be sure to stay away in case they happen to be radioactive OsCorp runaways."

All of us laughed. Despite the grim situation, I didn't feel doomed. I was surrounded by friends and my boyfriends and my bestie who happened to be a mythical omnipotent god- welp, once again, I was getting too emotional. Once the adults were done arguing, we could start making sense of this mess and hopefully clean it up before the monster is out of the box.

"Mortals," I heard Loki scoff. The next moment, the Asgardian sat down noisily next to me, pout on full display. "This house is a nightmare."

His expression - or the accidental use of a meme - sent me completely, tension leaving my body via copious amounts of nearly hysterical laughter. Through tears and hiccups, I saw Wanda cackle with me and Peter show the meme in question to Loki, noting that he had been once sent to time-out on top of the fridge by Tony himself. Soon, all of us were laughing, much to the displeasure of the adults.

"Children, what is the issue?" Thor asked, irritated.

"We're just waiting for you to be done with arguing," I spoke before Loki could start bitching about Thor calling him a child. "Then I can show Steve and Loki where exactly have I buried the box so Stephen can take me to the healers and get this thing out of me or whatever," I pointed out the most logical plan of action.

Two long strides and the sorcerer was standing over me, boom-boom-whooshing and generally making very pretty golden patterns to appear and land on top of me. Tony and Bruce anxiously hovered behind him, both of my boys concerned and ready to mother-hen me. Ugh, so disgustingly adorable. Wanda's hand encompassed mine - she was nervous.

Stephen took a solid five-minute silence break before coming to a final conclusion. "Wong can get rid of the residual traces of the artifact's influence," The sorcerer announced curtly. "It's good you got rid of the artifact, a few more months and you would have started slipping into insanity if the magic within it was not released," He explained, slowly reaching out a hand to place it on top of my head. I wasn't sure if it was a gesture meant to bring comfort or another diagnostic test but leaned into the touch nonetheless. "Tell me, did you have any behavioral... Disturbances after...?" He trailed off.

I chewed on my lip, evaluating. "I honestly don't know. I've always been kind of an asshole," Honesty was the best policy. "Nothing seems out of order, sleepwalking aside."

"I see," Strange gave me a tight-lipped smile. "Perhaps, it was your stubborn nature that forbade the artifact from corrupting your mind completely. As evidenced by Captain Rogers, even undesirable character traits bring good into this world now and then."

That seemed a little bit hostile. I frowned, giving a questioning look to a frowning Loki.

"Speaking from experience?" Not the one to hold back upon witnessing first-grade bullshit, I withdrew from Stephen's touch, raising a sarcastic eyebrow.

Surprising everyone, the man laughed soundly, eyes crinkling at the corners. "I most certainly do," Shooting me a positively mischievous wink. I felt like I was missing something.

The room's inhabitants slowly ticked out in pairs and threes, eager to complete their assigned tasks. Loki had insisted on coming along to the sanctum with me, even almost getting up in Stephen's face, but Bruce - out of all people - managed to calm the Asgardian down, and together we convinced him his magic would be considerably more useful during the retrieval of the cursed box. Loki was worried - everyone with a pair of functional eyes could see that the spiky attitude was his way of showing he cared about me, which made my insides briefly turn to mush. I didn't expect him to take the title of my best friend so seriously and I definitely was not complaining.

Tony was the last to leave, jittery and shaky, clutching me like it was his last time seeing me, kissing me hungrily in front of everyone. The joke or two he made were weak ghosts of his usual sharp snark.

"I love you and I'll be back soon," I whispered into his ear, feeling him freeze and his fingertips dig almost painfully into my sides. Louder, I repeated: "Not planning on dying any time soon, y'all gotta chill. Let's go, doc?" I addressed the tall sorcerer who was tactfully pretending to be busy with his smartphone.

Wanda pressed a duffle bag into my hands mouthing "clean clothes" a split second before Stephen opened a portal and with a great deal of curiosity, I stepped through it, eyes immediately drawn to the dimly lit space filled with books and antiques. So many books, so many unusual trinkets. The chandelier that hung over our heads rivaled the ones I'd seen in million-dollar-homes of dad's friends.

"Follow me," Stephen extended an arm in the direction of a smaller door, "Please do not touch anything."

I walked a pace behind him, satisfying my curiosity by looking around like a child in a candy store. The air smelled different in the Sanctum, almost as familiar as Loki's magic but less frosty... Warmer. A dash of red fabric swished from somewhere towards me; I giggled. The Cloak of Levitation liked me - not nearly as much as it liked Peter though - so I brushed my fingertips along the fabric, greeting it quietly. Talking loudly in this building was out of the question. I felt like any moment, a disgruntled librarian would appear to chastise me for making noise.

"Strange," A short Asian man appeared, book in hand and looking none too happy. Guess that's the librarian... "I got your text. The room next to yours is prepared for the ritual," The man I assumed to be Wong gave me a curt nod in the way of greeting, doing a quick 180° and walking us back to a small but tastefully decorated room with a single cot in the middle. It was pleasantly warm, a small fire lit in the fireplace, willowy smoke of incense rising from a few strategically placed sticks.

"The bathroom is that way. I'm afraid you'll have to be fully nude for the procedure," Strange declared apologetically, pointing to a door hidden behind the divide.

I snorted, but of course, the weird voodoo shit would require me to be naked. Not that I was embarrassed or anything but still. Tony would have a field day. Locating a chair, I dumped my duffle bag on it, flying out of my hoodie and sweatpants in record time. My underwear and socks followed, feet unpleasantly chilly despite the carpeted floor. I ran a hand over the faint bruises on my hips, evidence of last night, fondly - either Tony or Stephen had left marks on my body and that was... It was great. I loved it, drugs or not.

I heard someone clear their throat and turned around, nearly cracking up at the way both men suddenly averted their gazes, blush riding high on their cheeks. I snorted: "I'm hot, what else is new?"

Wong shook his head, busying himself with some sort of a book; Stephen lingered, eyes fixated on the very same bruises. His tongue darted out, wetting the plush of his bottom lip, and damn, this wasn't the time to get horny. I shook my head and with that, the sorcerer caught himself too, mutely motioning me to lay down on the cot.

"Whenever you're done eye-fucking each other," Wong piped up sarcastically - wow, I liked this man already. Stephen grumbled something quiet and rude, provoking another snort from me.

I followed their instructions - shortly after the Asian man began reading - or rather singing - something in a language I didn't know, I felt myself fall into a deep sleep. Or, I thought I was falling asleep. At one point, my eyes opened to an empty room, a thin sheet covering my bare body, and a silence that made chills run down my spine.

"Stephen?" I called out. I sounded like I was underwater to my own ears. "Wong?"

I was met with silence so deafening, I had no choice but to sit up and look around. The fire was burning strong in the fireplace, several logs blackened from it as sparks flew. It took a second for me to realize it made no sound - there was no crackling. Something was very wrong, the dread was creeping up on me.

Very familiar dread.

With the sheet firmly wrapped around me, I hopped off the cot, suddenly noticing the drawings on my arms, my legs. I was covered in runes similar to the ones I had seen on the cursed box - and my memories weren't missing. As clear as day, I recalled messing around with the box, debating on opening it, taking it out of my room only to find it back on my desk in the morning, some serious Anabelle shit.

I jumped as the floorboards cracked somewhere in the house. Every logical thought I had, backed up by every horror movie I had ever watched, screamed at me to NOT go towards the creepy noise; like moth to a flame, I was drawn in and couldn't resist the unnatural urge to investigate it. On silent feet, I padded out of the room, desperately trying not to think about the lonely, dark hallways filled with strange ancient objects. My steps made no noise.

On the couch, in the main room we'd arrived, sitting lazily, was Tony. I'd recognize his hair anywhere - and the Led Zep tee, old, frayed edges and loose threads. "Tony?" I asked hopefully, trying to make sense of this...

He turned around.

It wasn't Tony. Whatever it was, it wore Tony's face, it held his brown eyes and crow's feet around them - it wasn't him. Wrong, like the lack of sound in this place, misplaced and unnatural. The doe browns didn't sparkle, lifeless, dull color of dried mud. As much as I wanted to go and bury my face in his chest, my limbs filled with lead, my whole body screaming "DANGER".

The impostor kept quiet which only solidified my suspicions. Real Tony would be running his mouth already, poking fun at my impression of a sheet ghost.

"Princess?" The... Thing asked in Tony's voice, but it fell flat and monotone.

"Whatever you are, you sure as Hell ain't Tony," I stated firmly, hoping for some answers. "What the fuck?"

Not-Tony's face changed, familiar features twisting into something sinister, the malice making me sick to my stomach. The creature stood up, causing my feet to take an involuntary step back as he advanced slowly.

"You have no choice but to submit," The Thing replied calmly. "You're not getting out of here. Not even your little Asgardian pet god can save you," Its tone was absolutely flat. I would have thought the thing was a robot if not for the obvious involvement of magic in this situation. Its words filled me with dread as thick as molten lava; unfortunately for the creature, unlocking my memories gave me enough rational balance to be acutely aware of it and therefore, able to fight it.

I could fight it. I didn't know how exactly, but I could resist it. "That's a really bold thing to say for something that... What even are you? Magical STD?" As my brain desperately focused on finding a solution to a problem I didn't know all the details of, my mouth had a mind of its own.

The creature growled, a far more primal noise than a human could make. "You don't know what you're up against, child. I am one for we are many," Suddenly, the room was filled with shadows as if someone had turned off all the lights and cranked up the moon to be the brightest it ever was. The shadows moved, oozed, motion sinister without any light to back it up.

I had no choice but to pucker up. Nobody was coming to rescue me; in fact, I always have taken pride in being a self-saving princess. Damsel in distress wasn't really my style. The hunch in my shoulders disappeared, giving way to a stubborn and stiff expectation of the upcoming altercation, hands bailed in fists.

"I mean, like Legion the demon from the Bible?" I recalled what little I knew from Wikipedia. "I mean, I'm agnostic myself, but if you feel like identifying with that, you should probably see a therapist."

The entity growled, shadows gathering around it like fabric on a string, and lunged. Paralyzed by sudden blinding, deafening fear, I turned tail and ran.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

[feralphoenix]

HOWMST BELL THE CAT? - A treatise on one aspect of how the Pale King sealed the Radiance

sup hollow knight fandom, i’m back with the picante takes again after having Noticed A Thing.

as with my previous essays i’ll put this guy up on dreamwidth later for accessibility purposes, since my layout text may be too small for high-res pc users. i will attach that in a reblog at a later point.

CONTENT WARNINGS FOR TONIGHT’S PROGRAM: This essay discusses canon-typical body horror and bodily boundary violations, with some side mentions of colonialism.

all game screencaps are mine. the screencap of the wiki is from the “developer notes” (style guide) section of the “cut content” page.

ALSO: if youre from a christian cultural upbringing (whether currently practicing, agnostic/secular, or atheist now), understand that some of what i’m discussing here may challenge you. if thinking thru the implications of this particular part of hollow knight worldbuilding/lore is distressing for you, PLEASE only approach this essay when youre in a safe mindset & open to listening, and ask the help of a therapist or anti-racism teacher/mentor to help you process your thoughts & feelings. just like keep in mind that youre listening to an ethnoreligiously marginalized person and please be respectful here or wherever else youre discussing this dang essay, ty

HOWMST BELL THE CAT? - A treatise on one aspect of how the Pale King sealed the Radiance

We understand more or less how the Pale King’s plan was supposed to work. Stuff Radiance into a no-thoughts-head-empty and silent Pure Vessel to trap, isolate, and silence her, both putting an end to the Infection and killing her for good. Stick that vessel in the Black Egg, which harnesses Void BS to both keep the vessel alive indefinitely and to cover Hallownest (and its neighbors) in a time-defying stasis so that the Pale King could successfully hoard his favorite shiny FOREVER, threatened by nothing. Then put a seal on the Black Egg to prevent anyone from getting inside and harming said vessel while it’s strung up and helpless. And THEN, put protective seals on the anchors (the Dreamers) to the Black Egg seal to protect them from any external harm: The stasis means the Dreamers won't die of old age or starvation.

All in all, a pretty foolproof plan!

...except that the Dreamers are still vulnerable to having their minds breached with the moths’ magic... and the Pale King failed to take into account that his Pure Vessel was a person actually and the amount of toxic stress his training/upbringing put on them made them REALLY POORLY SUITED FOR THEIR JOB... and also that killing 99% of his million children and turning the Abyss into a landfill for baby corpses would take enough of an emotional toll on his wife and #1 enabler the White Lady that she would walk out on him, ensuring he’d only ever have one shot at this whole deal...

Basically it’s the sort of plan that an emotionally constipated, low-empathy sort of guy who pours all his points into INT and has a big fat zero for WIS might think is foolproof. It has big holes in it that the Pale King did not consider to be big holes until he got owned by the various consequences of his actions and fell down said big holes, making the shocked pikachu face all the while. Rip in die, my guy.

Anyway, there’s a lot of incidental information scattered about the game that gives us more insight into the stages of TPK’s plan. Looking at Monomon’s notes in the Archive suggests that she was probably involved in designing the Black Egg; the hidden room in the Weavers’ den points to their being the ones to blueprint the Dreamer seal; the White Palace’s hidden rooms reveal both TPK’s morbid fascination with the Void and his mea culpa wrt his motives and the Path of Pain is certainly suggestive of a lot of things. The White Lady tells us straight out that she walked out on the Pale King because she wanted no part in a second vessel batch, but how TPK didn’t handle that is only revealed via map design and some incidental dialogue from the Old Stag.

This stuff presents us with, if not a full picture, then at least a decent connect-the-dots of certain aspects of crater politics and Pale Court drama at the time, and how exactly TPK’s plan came together.

But there is still one glaring question that these cookie crumbs do not provide us an answer to:

Who shall bell the cat?

How did TPK et al manage to stuff Radiance into Hollow in the first place?

This is the subject of a lot of memes and jokes within the fandom because it's so absurd. Radiance fuckin hates that dude! She’s probably gonna be pretty wary of him considering how he stole her people in the first place! And considering the anti-colonialism slant of the writing - beyond the general sympathetic view Team Cherry gives of each indigenous bug society, Seer makes it very clear that Radiance has very good reason to take violent action against Hallownest - the answer is probably not something like “she’s just that stupid” or “she rolled a crit fail”.

Well... I have an idea of how TPK managed to get Radiance in there. It raises about as many questions as it answers, mind, but it may be someplace to start.

[desc: the hollow knight's entry in the hunter’s journal. top text/ghost’s comment reads: “Fully grown Vessel, carrying the plague’s heart within its body.” bottom text/hunter’s comment says: “The old King of Hallownest... he must have been desperate to save his crumbling little world. The sacrifices he imposed on others... all for nothing.”]

Here we have Hollow’s bestiary entry. Most of what we’re concerned with here is the top text, which says the seal has literally trapped Radiance inside their body. (First of all, ew, TPK.)

We already knew Radiance is literally actually inside Hollow, though: The Infection is leaking out of their body, and to get to fight Radiance, Ghost has to go traipsing into their sibling’s mind. So what’s significant about that here?

[desc: screencap of the outside of the black egg temple, post-infected crossroads. there are large infection blobs in the foreground and background, connected to each other by veins that come from inside the temple.]

The infection blobs are weird and get weirder if you kill enough Lightseeds for the Hunter to tell you their origin story, i.e. that the literal actual sun has been having a very long bad day and cried a lot, and some of the liquid coalesced into living flesh, and some of that living flesh took on a mind of its own to become Lightseeds. (Hollow Knight is a WILD place.)

Lightseeds are Radiance’s accidental children and share a lot of her traits: They are harmless creatures that try to avoid conflict if possible but if pushed will get creative and find ways to fight regardless of their physical limitations. (For the Lightseeds this involves hiding inside Broken Vessel’s corpse and puppeting it around to try to stab you.) They even have her same distinctive yell. And according to the Hunter, they’re born from the infection blobs. These enemies only ever appear in the Ancient Basin, which both Radiance and the Void have ransacked, and in the Infected Crossroads.

The infection blobs are connected to and sort of a weird extension of Radiance because the Infection itself is sort of a weird extension of Radiance. In the game’s internal style guide Team Cherry explains that the Infection started as an accident, not her original intention but what happened when Hallownest tried to block her out.

[desc: screencap from the wiki of style notes attached to seer that describe a sketch of radiance’s finalized backstory. text reads: “The moth tribe were (perhaps) descended from Radiance. However, the King convinced them somehow to seal Radiance away. I guess so he could rule Hallownest with his singular vision, as a god/monarch with no other gods. The moths sealed Radiance away by forgetting about her. Hallownest was born and flourished. However, the memory of Radiance lingered (eg [sic] the statue at hallownest’s crown) and soon she began to reappear in dreams and starting [sic] exerting influence. The King and the bugs of Hallownest resisted this memory/power and it started to manifest as the Infection. Thus the first attempt to seal Radiance failed, and the King had to try another method - the Vessel.” emphasis mine.]

Some fans have posited the blobs as deposits of pupa juice, but given Team Cherry's description of the Infection’s origins I don’t know how likely that is. Since the Void also sticks its squamous tentacles into things via veiny looking things and the Nightmare’s Heart has similar veiny nonsense in the Nightmare Realm, I wonder if it isn’t just a Meddly God Shit thing in general.

Whatever the case, the blobs are very much connected to/a part of Radiance.

And when you’re hanging around them, you will notice two things: They pulse like they’re part of a circulatory system, and you can hear Radiance's heartbeat emanating from them.

[desc: screencap of the game’s title screen with the infected menu theme in use: a glowing orange ball at the center of a lot of black tendony webbing.]

Let’s also think of the Infected menu theme, which you unlock after getting either of the endings where Ghost takes over from Hollow and absorbs Radiance out of them. Ghost is infected and then sealed inside the Black Egg in Hollow's place. It’s suggested by the animation’s staging that Radiance briefly struggles to get out of Ghost after absorbed but is ultimately stuck in them, at which point the seal is reestablished.

If you haven’t used the Infected menu theme yourself, the... interesting thing about it is that it moves organically. The light ball expands and contracts - y’know, sort of like a living organ - and so does the black webby stuff around it.

Also, Radiance’s heartbeat is included in the theme's ambiance.

[desc: hollow’s bestiary entry again]

To cut to the chase, this part of Hollow’s bestiary entry that says “the plague’s heart”? I don’t think that’s just Ghost/Team Cherry being poetic. I think there’s a good chance it’s LITERAL.

I think TPK is the sort of person who could cram a native woman’s literal living beating heart inside his own child’s body so they can use it as... say, a focus to absorb and trap her mind/spirit inside their body, too. Mr. No Cost Too Great is capable of a lot in the name of keeping other people’s claws off his Big Shiny kingdom. This is kind of his whole brand.

But also, like, yuck.

This fits the worldbuilding too; generally speaking Hollow Knight is Body Horror City. Also there’s the case of Grimm: While he and Radiance are loose counterparts at best with WILDLY disparate outlooks and ethoses, his existence serves as precedent that a Higher Being’s heart specifically can be separate from the rest of them.

As I said before, though, this DOES raise as many questions as it answers. If this is another piece in the puzzle of how TPK belled the cat, we’re now left wondering how he got Radiance’s heart to use as Hollow's focus to begin with.

We know he has access to the Dream Realm because that’s ultimately where he hid when Hollow’s seal failed, but who did he send to do the stealing and how did they get away with it? (TPK certainly wouldn’t have gone; his own life’s the one cost too great for him to willingly pay.) Was Radiance’s heart separate from her like the Nightmare’s Heart, or was it a part of her body? (I think the latter is more likely just from her personality; Grimm’s hidden heart makes sense because of how he keeps even his own servants at arm’s length emotionally, whereas Radiance is all heart all the time. I think this makes more sense with their equal opposites schtick too. But this would make for a WAY riskier mission.)

I can imagine all kinds of possibilities. None of them are definitive, but the thing they have in common is that they are all Awful... and how on-brand that is for Hollow Knight as a whole is, maybe, the most persuasive argument for It’s Literally Actually Her Real Physical Heart there could be.

[honeypirate]

Secrets

Future au prohero Tenya Iida x f!yn

I’m terrible with plans right now so I think this premise turned out dumb. But I liked writing it anyway.

Reader is a pro hero who’s quirk works with the pitch of her voice. She could change peoples emotions if they hear the right pitch of her voice and with the right quiet pitch it could be used as a sort of echolocation. She’s an expert in jujitsu and for her internships she studied under a CIA special agent hero in America so she’s amazing at being a spy.

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

“Okay, .... What if, ... hear me out here, What if we just walked through the front door? They’re expecting us to do something dramatic and intense and sneaky but what if we did the opposite. Walked through the door.”

You’re pointing to the front door on the blueprint of a hotel that lies on the table. Every hero around it was looking at you like you were nuts, except for one.. Iida. He had his hand on his chin as he spoke “Well they really wouldn’t expect it... I think with more of a plan it would work” You hadn’t expected him to be the one to see where you were coming from. He was so calculated and this idea you had was spur of the moment so you expected it to be shot down. With his planning and extrapolating to make your idea foolproof this was one of the best plans you’ve come up with... plus it was the only workable plan for this operation.

You met Tenya Iida when you joined his hero agency, you were carefree and bubbly and he was calculated and cunning. You worked very well together despite your personality differences. He quickly became one of your closest friends and you’d hang out outside of work too. He kept your head level and connected to your surroundings, you kept him grounded and connected to the outside world outside of the calculations in his head.

You were just friends.

You were just friends.

You were just friends.

This is what Tenya Iida repeated in his head over and over again every time he saw you in person. He accidentally caught himself falling in love with you and he would not let that jeopardize your friendship and work relationship. He would calculate everything so he never acted weird or too friendly or accidentally romantic.

The new plan was you get a room and pretend to be a couple, once inside the rest of the team on the outside would mess with the cameras so they’d just be on a loop of the last five minutes. You and Iida would sneak around and find the girl, take her back to your room where a hero you called in to help because he could fly, would be at the window. He’d take her to the police and you and Iida would stay the night as to not raise suspicion and then leave in the morning.

You were walking through the hotel entrance, a hotel that was renowned for harboring villains, pretending to be a naive couple on a weekend getaway. Your intel said that they had kidnapped a wealthy politicians daughter and was keeping her here on the second to top floor.

You had your arm linked through his and your other hand was holding his bicep. He was holding two bags over the other shoulder and the arm you were holding was like a rock of muscle you couldn’t help but notice how tense he was. You leaned your head on his shoulder and kissed his neck before whispering “you need to calm down. You’re gonna blow our cover with how tense you are”

Yes he was tense. But not because of the mission. Because the girl he was trying so hard to not fall for was holding on to his arm, wearing a gorgeous dress that showed off your curves, and whose hand was rubbing up his arm in such a loving way he felt like this was a dream of his. His heart could have exploded in his chest when he felt your lips brush his neck. He was anything but calculated right now.

“At least his face looks like he doesn’t care about anything” you thought to yourself.

When you reached the front desk you plastered on a sickly sweet loving smile on your face as you talked to the girl there, you noticed her mismatched eyes and registered her as one of the villains from the briefing. You didn’t let anything show on your face as you spoke “Good Evening! We have a reservation for Mr. and Mrs. Santana! We saw this place online and it was just beautiful so I convinced my fiancé here to come for the weekend!” You hold his arm again and he smiles sweetly down at you.

Your quirk worked as you spoke, whoever you focused on when using your quirk when hearing your voice their feelings could be influenced. Right now you were using it on this girl, so she felt like you were just two stupid tourists and nothing more. So she wouldn’t think about you guys ever again after you left her sight.

“I’m glad you guys liked the website! It’s new! I have you all checked in. Here’s your key. You’ll be on the top floor then it’s the last door to the right off the elevators. Have a nice stay!” She hands you two keys and you thank her, taking Iidas hand as you both walked away.

On the elevator he pulled you against his chest and buried his face into your neck “eighty percent of people in that room were high level villains. I counted ten security cameras and two in this elevator. When we get the room we have to assume it’s been bugged so we will check it out before any speaking.”

You pull back and nod as you look into his eyes, you’ve always loved his eyes they were so beautiful. You reach up and stroke his cheeks as you ingrained in your memory how he looks right now.

His hair is slicked back so you can see his shaved sides, he’s been growing out his facial hair so he has a nice sophisticated mustache, and he’s wearing contacts instead of glasses. He’s wearing a tailored tan three piece suit with a navy blue tie. What really got you was when you saw him getting ready and he has put suspenders on. Something about a man in suspenders just made you weak. He was so gorgeous you wished that this night wasn’t a rouse. That you were really his fiancé and this ring on your finger wasn’t fake. You wanted to get to your room and have him slowly undress you. But you knew that wasn’t what was ever going to happen. He was calm and calculating and would probably not even want a fiancé like you, the opposite of him.

He wants you to kiss him so bad. He can’t stop looking at your full red lips, at your gorgeous (color) eyes, the way they sparkle looking at him. The way you hold his face so gentle and soft it sends butterflies straight to his heart.

You lean up by his ear and kiss his neck a few times to sell your rouse before whispering into his ear “why are you so tense? This isn’t like you” You still have a few floors until you get to the top and you want to make sure he gets over this because you need him to be his normal self.

His hands snake around your waist and pull you up close to him. He sighs into your neck and you push the butterflies in your stomach as far down as you can. He knows he needs to relax and be his best. But right now he’s going to steal this one moment and really pretend you’re his. For these few seconds he allows himself to feel the love he has for you. After a few deep breaths he resigns himself and pulls himself together. He pulls back and softly presses his lips to yours for a second before whispering in your ear “I’m sorry y/n. Let’s do this.”

Your thoughts run wild and you froze when his lips left yours

Oh god oh god he kissed me and it was soft and wonderful and I want a hundred more at least. Shit I need to get it together. It’s just an act. It’s an act. Right?

You pretend everything is fine and you nod at him while taking his arm and walking out of the elevator to your room.

After finding no bugs in the room you quickly change out of the fancy nice clothes and into inconspicuous clothes. You can’t unzip your dress so you decide to ask him for help but you get distracted for a moment when you turn to ask him to and find him in just his pants. You take in the sight of his strong back muscles and his scars. “Hey” you say softly and touch his back, running your hand softly from his shoulder down to his ribs, running your fingertips across a scar. You get embarrassed and drop your hand when you realize how intimate of a touch it was. “Can you unzip me?” You turn around and look over your shoulder at him.

Your zipper is in the middle of your back, he nods and slowly unzips your dress all the way. He places his hands on your shoulders and then softly trails them down your arms sending tingles down your spine and giving you goosebumps. You turn around to face him.

“Thank you” you say quietly looking into his eyes, his hands grab your hips and slowly pulls you into him. “Y/n” he says your name quietly and you stand on your tippy toes trying to get closer to him “Iida” you whisper back. His eyes look to your lips and your eyes flutter closed as you anticipate him to kiss you again.

He places his forehead against yours. “We need to hurry and rescue the girl” you sigh. You know he’s right. This is not the time. But god how you wish it was. You pull back and nod before walking away from him and taking your bag into the bathroom to finish changing.

You changed into a pair of black leggings and a black hoodie, hiding a gun and holster on your back and under your hoodie. You put on a pair of black running shoes as well.

When you exit the bathroom you tie your hair up in a pony and pull your hood up, you hear Iida speak into your ear piece that’s connected to the whole team “are we ready? Check in” followed by the voices of the rest of the team “ready at the station” “cameras are ready” “I’m on the balcony, ready when you need me” you make eye contact with Iida and he waits for you to say the phrase you always do before a mission. It’s a tradition and lucky charm now you have to say it. You smile “let’s go team” and with that Iida let’s out a breath and you exit the room.

On the floor below yours you split up, you take off quietly and stealthily running down the hallway, using soft clicks with your tongue that showed you the position of people in the rooms around you and people inside. You make it down the first hallway and stop when you realize that there are people around the next corner.

You use your quirk to get their positions as you creep forward so you can hear their conversations. “Down the hallway to the right. Two guys. They have the girl out right now this is our chance” you whisper into your ear piece and Iida responds “I’m on the other side of the hallway. You take the one on the right. In 3 2 1” and you’re around the corner and on the man on the right before he can even see you knocking him out and lowering him gently to the ground “what the fuck?!” the other guy says and as he draws his gun Iida hits him so hard on the back of the head he’s knocked out. You take the girl and run to the stairway door with Iida behind you.

You can hear the girl crying beside you and you squeeze her hand once as you keep pulling her up to the next floor. At the door you stop them. “There are two people in the hall wait a moment” you make your clicks and watch in your minds eye two drunk guys walking back to their room. Once their doorway clicks closed you’re off running again to your door. Once inside you throw open the window “wings boy. It’s your turn.” You couldnt remember his name and before he takes her you turn to the girl “you’re safe. It’s okay. Trust him. He’s going to take you to your parents, I promise. But if it would make you feel safer you can have this” you hand her a pocket knife and she takes it slowly and nods.

Once they’re gone and you’re told that the cameras are back to normal you sit by the door and watch and wait to see if anyone comes for you guys while Iida watches from the balcony.

“Hey” you say form the doorway “if they suspect us maybe we should change into something else and lay in bed or something so if they bust in we can still sell it. Because I’m not selling cute couple on a sexy weekend in this unsexy outfit” you laugh and he smiles at you and blushes, he thought that you holding a gun was one of the sexiest things he’s ever seen. He goes back into the room shutting and locking the balcony door after you.

You take off all of your clothes down to your undies, placing your gun on the countertop to put it under a pillow on the bed when you go out. You look at yourself in the mirror just standing in a lace white thong and nothing else. Looking at your scars and bruises from past jobs. You were gorgeous and you knew it but sometimes it felt like you weren’t good enough. You pull on a faded oversized retro teeshirt as Iida knocks on the door. “Y/n?” You open the door and smile softly up at him. He’s wearing just a pair of sweats now and you can’t help but blush looking at his strong body.

“I don’t think they suspect us at all.” He said and cleared his throat when he looked at your bare legs. “That’s good. I’m glad this turned out easy but we still need to be on guard.” He nods and you turn away from him to grab a pair of cotton shorts, purposely showing him your butt, and he groans internally when he sees your cute butt cheeks underneath your oversized shirt.

You slip on your shorts and shove everything else in your luggage before leaving the bathroom with your bag over your shoulder and gun in hand. He sits on the bed and slips on a shirt and it makes you sad, you stash a gun under the pillow.

The sexual tension in this room is so thick you can hardly breathe. You can’t take it. You have to touch him. You walk up to him and stand between his legs, running your fingers through his hair as he looks into your eyes. His fingertips softly brush up your thighs before landing on your hips. “Iida. We saved that girl. Now we need to just make it to the morning” he nods but doesn’t say anything, just looks into your eyes.

Your hands softly move down to his cheeks and neck. “I want to kiss you” you admit with a blush and his eyes widen before softening as he smiles up at you. You lean your face down close to his, your lips brush over his softly for just a second but as you pull back he stands and softly grabs your face kissing you deeper. You melt into him and moan when his tongue goes into your mouth.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he reaches down grabbing your butt and lifting you up with ease before turning and falling to the bed on top of you. You giggle and look up at him as he pulls away to get a breath. You slip your hands under his shirt and moan softly as you feel his muscles under your fingertips. He pulls off his shirt and you wrap your arms around him pulling yourself up to him to kiss his chest and shoulders. Kissing every scar you can reach. When you get up to his neck you bite and suck just above his collarbone and he moans. You love the sound. He’s kissing up your neck and you say “Tenya Tell me what you really think of me.”

He pushes himself up on his elbows and looks into your eyes “I love you” he gets right to the point and you get butterflies and you smile “I love you too” you whisper and he blushes “you do?” He asks and you nod “so much” you say with a smile and run your fingers through his hair again softly as he peppers kisses all over your face.

“I love you y/n” he whispers again

“Tenya I love you” you say back and he kisses you again with a fervor.

You end up laying on his chest as he plays with your hair, talking about when you first came to work with him. “That second day when I saw you in your hero suit, I couldn’t stop thinking about how good you looked. Then we talked and you took me by surprise. You’re so kind and bubbly and it feels like you really see me. I didn’t realize that I was in love with you until recently, I was talking to Yaoyorozu and she asked me when we started dating because I talked about you like I was in love with you. And then it all clicked. I wanted to push it down and forget about it I didn’t want to ruin anything with you. I was panicking when we first got here because I couldn’t handle how good you looked in that dress and then you kissed my neck. My heart was racing. I couldn’t help but kiss you in the elevator. I had to have that moment to ground myself I guess. Because it really helped me get my head tigether.” You’re smiling into him as you kiss up and down his bare chest and shoulders.

“I realized I loved you a couple weeks ago” you say and lay your head back down on his chest “our last mission when I got hurt. You came to me immediately and held my face, your eyes were beautiful and you looked so worried about me. I realized that you cared about me so much and my heart was full. After that I noticed so much more about you, like how you always show kindness to everyone you meet and you’re so genuine. The more my eyes opened the more I realized you were the man I wanted to be with. “

*tap tap tap* comes from the balcony door and you grab the gun from under the pillow and point it over before you notice it’s wings boy with a friend. Tenya gets up and throws open the door as you turn the safety on your gun back on and set it down.

“We need you both right now. They don’t know you were here but they are attacking the family now and we need you both to come help capture the villains” you nod and grab your stuff changing back into fight clothes as quick as you could, shoving your gun it’s holster under your sweatshirt, before heading to the balcony. wings boy and friend carried you and Tenya out from the window. The whole time you closed your eyes and didn’t look until your feet touched the ground. Then you take off. Leaving wings boy to handle your bag.

As you’re running towards the fight Iida picks you up and takes off running as fast as possible to get you there too. Before he sets you down, in that fraction of a second, he whispers into your ear “I love you”

You smile and get to work.

[princeescaluswords]

Invalidating Interpretations

I’ve been on a tear recently about my view that people’s belief in ‘all interpretations are valid’ not only misrepresents what interpretation means but also serves as a cover for racism, sexism, and other immoralities.  Fandom has lionized the idea that the consumption of media can be solely an emotional exercise which comes with no responsibility whatsoever.  On a certain level that’s true -- when a person sits in their home and thinks ‘wouldn’t it be cool if Stiles Stilinski was actually a god’ it has no consequence beyond their own entertainment.

But the problem is that it doesn’t remain there.  People are shaped by the media they consume, unless you don’t think any politician has allowed media’s representation of life in the 1950s to inform their vision of how the world should be.  I don’t think it would be very hard to find real examples of people’s ideology conforming to a fictional representation.  How many people’s ideas about the colonial-era relationship between European settlers and indigenous natives were formed by the story of the first Thanksgiving?  

We are influenced by the stories we consume, and we influence others by the stories we tell.  That bears with it responsibility, whether the story is on MTV or AO3 or Tumblr or any other public space.   This means that the interpretation of those stories should not simply depend on emotional response.  Anyone can tell canon to go f*ck itself, but that action brings with it commensurate responsibilities depending on what they do afterwards.

Let me give you two examples of what I’m talking about from my own fandom and use it illustrate this. 

Derek Hale held the act of turning someone into the werewolf in high regard -- “The Bite is a gift” -- which made Scott forcing him to Bite Gerard especially heinous.  This interpretation is not only unsupported but it is also used as a cover for racism and abuse apologism.  

The phrase was uttered three times on the show -- once by Derek in Wolf Moon (1x01), once by Peter in Visionary (3x08), and once by Scott in The Benefactor (4x04).  Every single time it was used to manipulate others, and none of them were sincere.  Derek used it to try to get Scott to help him find the person who murdered his sister; Peter used it to get Derek to ask Ennis to bite Paige; and Scott used it to try to repair the damage he did to his and Liam’s relationship by panicking after Biting Liam in Muted (4x03).   None of them meant it.  

Derek did not believe that the Bite was a gift, because his actions didn’t treat it as a gift.  When telling Scott how cool being a werewolf was didn’t make Scott do what he said, he abandoned the gift approach and told Scott how being a werewolf would endanger everyone he cared about.  If the act of the Bite is  something solemn and sacred, why did he charge Jackson like a horror-movie villain and then how did Jackson get in the lake?   When Jackson rejected the Bite on his way to Kanima-dom, why did Derek abandon him?  Why did he not get angry when Scott accused him of Biting Jackson to kill him? Why did he give the Bite to some kid he met in a graveyard when chasing an omega?  Why did Derek not even check on Lydia until Venomous (2x05), six episodes after Peter gave her the gift?  Why did Derek Bite Victoria in the middle of a battle? Derek didn’t treat his betas as if he had given them a gift.  He didn’t object when Peter described the Bite as “increasing his power and numbers?”  There is not a single instance where born-wolf Derek treated the Bite as special.  

Why then is the interpretation that Derek held the Bite as a sacrament so popular?  Because it justifies their racist condemnation of Scott as hero and justifies Peter’s and Derek’s abuse of Scott.  Scott’s antipathy toward lycanthropy is not a reasonable reaction of a teenager who had been told that not only his life is now and will forever be in danger, but he will also become a threat to everyone he cares about, but instead  it becomes ingratitude.  And of course, it allows them to dismiss the reality that Scott had little agency in that scene in Master Plan (2x12), that he was being forced to do Gerard’s bidding, and to concentrate on intensifying the violation of Derek (when they aren’t busy trying to turn it into rape).   

It also a defense for Peter’s and Derek’s abuse of Scott.  Scott’s lycanthropy stops being something horrible that happened to him, and starts being a reciprocal obligation he has to Derek and Peter.  Derek isn’t stalking and manipulating Scott into helping him find Laura’s killer, he’s punishing him for being ungrateful.  Peter didn’t ruin a teenager’s life and then gloat about it; he gave him a gift.   If you treat Scott’s Bite as a “monkey’s paw” scenario -- as one racist anon did -- then he’s simply got what he wanted and is unhappy about it.  Derek and Peter shouldn’t have to waste time being kind to this selfish prick.  Derek lying to Scott about the cure isn’t that bad if Scott insulted the Gift that he no longer wanted.

The above interpretation is unsupported by any actual scene or any actual script excerpt or anything really, but it does serve the purpose of excusing Hale-style abuse and undermining Scott’s position as heroic protagonist.

Scott McCall had a strict no-killing possibility which was a result of his own sense of moral superiority and a black-and-white view of the world.  This interpretation is not only directly contradicted by canon but it is a fundamental aspect of the racist idea of the Left Hand, by which is meant that White Men Can Kill Whomever They Want.  

Scott McCall didn’t have a strict no-killing policy.  Not in Season 1, not in Season 6.  He didn’t get upset at Derek for killing Peter (he got upset because Derek deceived him about the cure) or mourn Kate’s death, in Season 1.  He didn’t stop Derek or Peter from killing Gerard in Season 2.  He did object to Derek executing Lydia and Jackson for things that were beyond their control.  His rise to being a True Alpha in Season 3A wasn’t due to him not being willing to kill; his rise to True Alpha was partly due to his refusal to let others manipulate him into killing.  He was certainly willing to threaten Gerard and Jennifer with death.   He didn’t argue that killing the Oni was wrong in Season 3B; he did argue that killing Stiles was wrong.  He didn’t hold his father in contempt for killing the Chemist, or get upset about dead Berserkers, or tell Satomi, Chris, Derek or Braeden not to use lethal force again the hunters-turned-assassins.  His objection in Season 5 was about -- once again -- killing those taken and turned against their will into monsters.  The show literally addressed this in The Beast of Beacon Hills (5x19):

Scott: Deucalion? You shouldn't trust him. 

Theo: And you're the one who let him live. 

Scott: I'm not a murderer. 

Theo: You still think you're gonna get through all this without killing anyone? 

Scott: I didn't say that.

He didn’t say that.  He never said “no killing, ever.”  Derek had killed.  Chris had killed.  Theo had definitely killed, including him.  Stiles had killed.  He didn’t consign them into the outer dark.  He didn’t refuse to work with them or listen to them.  

This ‘interpretation’ is about nothing less than justifying Peter’s murderous behavior and Derek’s attempted imitation.  By pushing Scott’s moral stance to an unrealistic extreme, they try to demonstrate it as unworkable and arrogant, even in the face of evidence to the contrary.  The problem is that they’re not doing this to ask serious questions about when it is a valid option to kill; they’re doing it to justify Peter’s and Derek’s and Stiles’s supposed (but not real) and Theo’s and sometimes even Deucalion’s casual approach to murder.  They re-interpret a nuanced position about the value of every individual life into a some sort of arrogant white knight platitude.

And they will do this, even if they have to discard 90% of canon, if that is what it takes to enable Sexy White Men (and only Sexy White Men -- they never use this to justify Kali, or Monroe, or Gerard, or the Doctors) to be treated as the heroic protagonist in their tales.   That’s why, mysteriously, in all those Steter fictions where they execute Scott for not being willing to kill (in one of the most ironic tropes in history, which has become quite popular), they never have Stiles or Peter kill police officers for objecting to their murder sprees.  They never have Stiles shoot down deputies saying “you would stop me from protecting who I love, you must die!”  Weird, isn’t it?

It’s not weird at all.  These interpretations are not meant to be serious investigations of the production; they’re meant to serve emotional needs which if they admitted openly might subject them to censure, and rightly so.   In conclusion, not all interpretations are valid.  

[ultfreakme]

I don’t think MCU knows how to write romances, which is why Steggy just fell flat after CATFA and I have a hypothesis. 

MCU’s target audience is everyone. Mass appeal to really get the cash flowing. But this is a franchise based on comic books and there is this stereotype that cishet men and boys are the ones who predominantly consume this stuff. Also superhero movies have some specific expectations and roles they should fulfill, like epic fight scenes, being toTalLy mAcHo, saving the day, saving the damsel, whatever. 

Female characters aren’t exactly....characters in these films(at least at the start), they are props and ideas to be sold. It took 10 years to make Black Widow a character, an Avenger in her own right rather than side character. The aforementioned mass-appeal thing means any sort of romance needs to meet some criterion so little to no one gets uncomfortable(according to MCU standards)

Romances are heterosexual

They need to be obvious to viewers

Neither of them can engage in anything more than kissing. 

Okay it needs to be the milquetoast thing ever. The heterosexual romance falls flat because one of the people in the relationship doesn’t have a character. The ‘love-interest’ who is often female and just something the hero is guaranteed to have doesn’t inspire any sense of tension because literally everyone knows how the relationship will go. 

Weird thing is the female characters are actually well-written enough before they become a love interest. When they are put together with the male character they are supposed to love, any defining personality trait just gets dulled down. 

Peggy is pretty badass on her own, but the second she’s made to interact with Steve, she goes from character to prop. Something like that happens with Jane in Thor- she’s this well-known astrophysicist who is smart as fuck, kinda dorky and awkward but she like....she just fades into the background whenever she’s with Thor. Why would she be interested in him after about 2 days of knowing him? Why would she love him for 2 years and wait around after knwoing him for such a short time? How does that work? I get a passing friendship and worry but romantic love is going to take way more. 

Thing is the second a ‘love-interest’ is assigned, the relationship escalates so quickly it doesn’t feel real. For some reason they HAVE to kiss if they even just look at each other. There’s no place for a slowburn where an actual dynamic is built.

And this is where they accidentally create very compelling male relationships. Steve and Bucky’s relationship spans over all 3 Captain America movies and is there even in the Avengers movies. It takes a long, long time- we get time with them, we get to see how the relationship influences each other- how it changes each other. That’s what makes it so compelling. 

I think the same can be said for Stony too(though okay I don’t ship it but I’m sure them going from begrudging allies who sorta hate each other to friends over the span of multiple movies with various ups and downs is what makes them so cool to witness). And less popular, but ThorBruce- they aren’t love interests but they start of with a tenuous alliance, which becomes friendship and eventually a strong friendship where they count on each other. SamBucky too(hating each other-> friends with the same guy and having the same cause -> friends and this also happens over multiple movies and a TV series)

They are allowed to be friends first, their relationships develop naturally because they are allowed to be characters first, their traits and existence are not compromised to shoehorn in any relationship. 

And they’re all SLOWBURNS. 

Jane & Thor would’ve been more compelling if in the first movie, they were allies on the verge of friendship, in the second their friendship becomes more established and it was slowly built up throughout the avengers movies. That way there’s more weight in the break-up, in the struggle of long distance and dating a god.

Same with Peggy and Steve. The thing with Steggy though, is that the franchise killed any potential for it with the time travel and burned it down in CATWS and AoU(Peggy says you can’t go back to the past to Steve and says he needs to live in the present- a present which she can’t be a part of. And Steve says whichever part of him that wanted the white picket fence and family died 70 years ago). Steggy set itself up to be a past Steve needed to leave behind for positive development. 

The Steve-Peggy relationship was opened and closed by CACW and they opened up Steve’s relationship with everyone in the 21st century. 

Sharon Carter doesn’t work because it’s Steve clinging to the last of his ties with Peggy(also that is PEGGY’S NIECE MAN WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING). Also we don’t know shit about Sharon at that point. They should’ve kept her an ally and friend and maybe built up a friendship between the two based on their grievance over the fall of SHIELD and Nick Fury. Steve would’ve worked better as a mentor figure to Sharon tbh. 

okay rant done