#i am going through these so slowly apologies to everyone i am also writing essays because that how my brain works LOL but i love you all

[somerandomjewelleryonthefloor]

Unpredicted Couple

Summary: A writing Drabble in which through the POV of Myra, starts a small personal private investigation on SolChael and if they're together or not.

Word count: who fucking knows, it's long as shit tho. And I mean ESSAY long.

Rating: teen

Warning: teens being teens, implied hickeys.

(Main) Characters: Michael H, Solrin J, Myra K.

Note: this is a writing Drabble I started at 4 AM so like I'm very much kind of tired, also I'm just a youngster having fun, don't take this seriously or I'll send "Kamala is Brat" at you. Enjoy! (No I'm not taking criticism as I don't care for writing RIGHT NOWWWWWwwww... So don't pls)

Tags?: for the 2 people who might be interested- @cadybear420 @lover-also-fighter-also

I knew I had a 6th sense about romance, it was almost like it was a radar. If anyone had chemistry together, I would be able to see it immediately before everyone else. I could see potential dynamics between people, and I could always match couples with tropes.

Though there was one pairing I liked, who always got me off guard- Michael and Solrin. They always looked like they hated eachother and I thought that too, though I'd see this look in their eyes when they argued that something was going on between them, and it made me confused for the first time this year and incredibly curious about them. They always argued, usually small disagreements and glares full of hate but... There was always something off about it...

Today was Monday, 14th of October. The halls were slowly getting decorated with fake black cats and cobwebs and pumpkins, the classrooms were getting spooky fake spiders and a cauldron that contained mints and other candy that replaced most typical mint/candy jars. The teachers sometimes added really crappy Halloween puns into their teaching, and no one would admit it but it was honestly such a nice time.

It was before class started, I had gotten on my laptop and was going through my Tumblr, all I could smell was cupcake frosting as I went through my feed. the smell from the dehumidifier was on by the teachers desk at the front, and in the corner of my eye I could see it change colours from red to orange to yellow to green, you get the idea. When Sydney came by and sat next to me, I shut my laptop and turned to her.

"Hey Syd" I smiled at her, she smiled back and waved wildly at me as she sat down.

"Hey! Wanna hear something fun?" She spoke low, leaning in towards me, she looked around us before continuing.

I listened intently, although I never liked hearing gossip that much- when it came to Sydney, it at least related to me or someone we knew.

"So apparently from Emma: she was waiting by Solrin's locker this morning when Michael was power walking through the hall, holding a hand to his neck and silently cursing. He bumped into her, apologized, and went into the bathroom."

Okay. This was interesting, Michael holding his hand to his neck? Suspicious... I kept listening.

"Apparently, uhm, because he lifted his hand when he bumped into her, there was like glitter there? Like a glittery lipstick looking mark..." Sydney continued, whispering even quieter. "And when Solrin came to her locker and greeted Emma, her lipstick was the exact shade of what was supposedly on his neck, glitter colour and all..."

I had to restrain myself from gasping because I wasn't exactly expecting THAT. Did they have some confusing tension? Yeah, I did see that sometimes, but I didn't expect something between them ACTUALLY going on. I thought for the first time at Berry, I'd have been wrong about signals between them.

She sat back up right, and nodded to me.

"I can't say, but it would make sense why they look like they're flirting when they're fighting... Also!-" Sydney got a little charm that had a tiger on it out of her cardigan pocket, talking about how she got it at a thrift shop yesterday and how she adored it. It was very very cute, and I really wanted to hear her and her thrift shop adventures, but I couldn't take my mind off of that surprise information earlier... I had to think of a ship name for them, as they could very well be together behind the scenes and nobody knew it!... I didn't want to think of prying into their lives, but damn it! they were leaving treats out for the curious cat in me- and I wanted to eat them all and figure them out!...

Hmm... Maybe SolChael?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It was October 18, 4 days after Sydney told me about that SolChael moment. It was on my mind, I couldn't stop thinking about it as it was still so shocking... I couldn't tell anyone else though as I felt it should be somewhat private.

It was another day, period 6, last (technical) class of the day. It was english, and we were tasked with finding a partner and re-enacting a dramatic part of any act in 'Romeo & Juliet' as it was our subject content for this quarter.

Solrin was partnered up with Caleb, and they were doing a really dramatic reading of 'Act 1: scene 5'. They were doing it in the hallway outside, with a few others, and they looked like they were having fun. When they came to the kissing part, they were just holding hands and moving their heads and saying "mwah mwah mwah" before laughing their heads off at how stupid it felt. I was seated right by the door so I had a 1st class viewing of it all. I didn't really care much though as I didn't really feel like acting that day.

Michael didn't seem so either. He was sitting next to me, face on the table and resting. However, I noticed how he would clench his fists tightly when he heard them laughing and having fun outside...

"You okay Michael? You seem a bit tired..." I asked, trying to be subtle.

"Myra, shush please, I'm trying to shut my brain off..." He responded dejectedly.

I playfully tapped the back of his head.

"Wow, I feel so much better, thanks Myra..." He gave a thumbs up, before sitting up and going on his phone.

I didn't know how to feel about him seemingly having jealousy. Or was he just incredibly annoyed hearing the repeated "Mwah"'s?... Who knew... Because I didn't.

He did glance up though at them two times before keeping his eyes glued to his phone...

The curious cat in me was about to get run over by a truck at this point of how much I was itching to interrogate them about how they were behind the scenes. UGH.

✩✩⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆✩✩

It was lunch, and I was sitting back with everyone at our table. It seemed short of 2 people, but I didn't know who.

I was eating a fruit bowl and a Capri Sun, looking at everybody. There was Caleb, Aiden, Sydney, Emma, Luis, Maria, and... Where were Solrin and Michael?

where were they? Ever since October 14th, they've always been having coincidences with eachother. They definitely had something going on now, and my thought only intensified when Solrin came by with her lunch box. Her face flushed. Wearing her dark grey leather jacket over her tank top and distressed denim shorts. It was a bit cold now, it made sense...

She looked like she was out of air though. Her face was red and she was breathing slightly heavy, she was telling everybody that she was running from the bathroom, to her locker, to here and it was taking a lot of time... But I couldn't bring myself to believe her. She was touching her collarbone I think through her jacket a lot, her lipstick was slightly smudged, and she looked a bit dazed. I didn't want to ask though.

"I'm guessing Michael is spending time with Wes & co?" Caleb asked, rhetorically, I couldn't help it though.

"You mean, Wes & *Koh*?... Okay I'll stop before I stop." I went back to my fruit bowl.

"Thank fuck for that, I don't want to see his ass" Solrin responded bitterly

"Solrin, please, let's not today..." Emma spoke up. Solrin looked at her, before sighing, and apologizing.

She looked so worked up in a way, and because of Michael and her being late, I couldn't help but think that maybe they had a little moment before going their separate ways...

Jeez... This SolChael affair has been getting to me. I love you, but I'm kind of mad you told me about them Sydney, now I must go through with staying my subtle investigation on them.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

23rd of October, and there were TOO many coincidences of events happening between SolChael that I had seen by accident, that were confirming my thought process.

Michael had accidentally pulled out Solrin's usual lip balm from his bag during English right beside me on Monday, and for lunch they were both late again and also Solrin was wearing jeans that looked an awful lot like Michael's jeans that got shredded when he slid on concrete after a skateboard fail, and this was only Monday.

On Tuesday, they had a really intimate stare down as they were 'talking' in homeroom and giving jabs at eachother, I glanced only once and felt my face flush with how it felt like I was intruding on them. They're so together that it's obvious.

Today was Wednesday, and apparently there was a big Halloween party that was being held. Everyone in our year was invited, and I decided that I'd go to catch a glance of them, just one more incident and I could put my SolChael investigation to rest.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

On the day of Halloween, I dressed up in my costume. Big black boots, green skin, long fake nails, big dress, and a nice witch hat. I picked up my cauldron themed bag, and held it in my hand before leaving my house.

Getting to the party, it was pretty tame. The music was clearly from a 2014 playlist on Spotify, the refreshment table was just a mix of sickening sweets and savoury snacks, and there were only cordials for drinks. Though there were a bunch of game tables playing uno and monopoly, hearing the yells of betrayal as I wandered around. Many complimented my outfit, as I traversed the house.

My legs were aching after a good 40 minutes of looking at everything, I needed a break.

Going over to a door and opening it, it revealed a nice chill out room that had been bags in the corner and- OH.

To my surprise, I walked in on Michael and Solrin kissing aggressively. Her arms over his neck, his hands tightly holding onto her waist, they were in their own world before they heard the door softly hit the wall. Looking at me with wide eyes as I did to them, yeah, no doubt about it was it confirmed they were together or at least had something going on.

I backed away and went shut the door, until Solrin called out for me. Pushing Michael off gently and going over to me.

"Wait!" She looked at me, a bit nervous, "Myra, I know this was a lot to see, but can you... Can you please not tell anyone?... We're..."

She looked back over her shoulder at Michael, I couldn't see his expression since she blocked my view of him, but she looked back at me with a sheepish smile.

"We're a bit complicated... So please... Just keep this like an oath to yourself, okay?" She then gently shut the door on me.

I hadn't expected to find exactly what I was looking for, well more than what I was hoping to find anyway.

I kept my promise though. I kept their relationship like an oath and spoke nothing about it. No hints, I even dismissed allegations about them from people.

My curious cat has died, but it revived from the satisfaction of knowing that they were indeed together... In a way at least.

[darkfires]

whizzer my good friend whizzer and I have been talking about shame holding us back from being self-indulgent so I wrote whilst thinking about me and lilia. in a sappy way. unedited idc about accuracy I have an essay to write right after this

someone like me, who's already experienced so much of my world, who's dedicated their life to understanding its history and culture and form, being torn out of it and sent to a completely different dimension where I know nothing. nothing! and I'm stuck with all this useless information on religion and war and language and monarchy that means nothing to anyone because, well, it's not their history. for all they know, I'm completely making it up.

and so the only thing I'm really good at is null and I have to teach myself thousands of years worth of new stuff when everyone around me has had a life's head start, all while I'm dealing with the horrific reality that I will likely never see my world again. I do think about how much mourning I would go through while at nrc. I've been completely removed not only from my immediate reality, but also from my culture, my history. I will never get to go back to my family home. I will never see the ocean from la rochelle again. I will never be able to read the books I love or see my favorite paintings. not even online, ever. they don't exist in this universe. a huge portion of my identity is effectively nonexistent and left up to my feeble human memory to preserve.

I and I alone am weighed down with the knowledge of an entire universe, filled with lingering questions that no one here can answer. places I will never see and things I will never learn.

it's a lot like dying.

and I just have to live with that. and what's more, no one really cares! I'm expected to just assimilate to this world without causing any problems. as if my entire reality hasn't collapsed around me, as if I don't feel like with every passing day I lose more of myself.

then there's lilia.

weighed down with the knowledge of eras long past and thousands of memories of things that don't even exist anymore. ever-curious lilia, who loves to travel, to learn and experience. lilia who would exchange stories with me, who would find my recitals of ancient wars and art movements fascinating. who would lend me stories of his own, one by one until I have a basic foundation for this weird place.

lilia! who I could talk to for hours without getting bored, who would let me go on until I run out of things to say, or until my retellings of myths and revolutions turn into personal quips. who makes me comfortable enough to believe him when he says that he doesn't mind hearing about my life back home. he likes learning more about me, actually. he finds me interesting.

lilia, who understands what it feels like to be homesick for something you can never return to. who understands how it feels to mourn. who starts to see the worst sides of me when my personal anecdotes turn to my failures, my angers, every account of how I've hurt people in ways I feel I will never rectify. all the people I will never be able to apologize to now. lilia, who reassures me that he still likes me- he's probably done worse, after all. he says it with a smile but there's something painful behind that. I tell him the same.

lilia, who's there when I want to grieve on days that would have been holidays back home. he wants to understand completely, but we both know that isn't possible.

he still tries.

lilia, who always seems to be awake at just the right hour when I'm bored and can't sleep, who's always prone to bending rules so we can do whatever. what's the headmage going to do, stop him? impossible. lilia, who wants to show me that he cares, so he starts attempting to make me food. his cooking abilities do not improve. of course, I accept every gift. I insist on returning to favor to him, at least once a week. I'm always sure to make enough so I can feed his poor children something edible.

and slowly, through exchanges of unbaked cookies and tupperwares of soup, I'm visiting him daily. lying on his bed and complaining about silly, trivial parts of my day while he sits at his computer. asking about all the weird shit in his room. feeding his kids again. he starts haunting ramshackle, hanging upside down in the halls between my classes, following me around to oh-so casually leer over me when I'm working or rest his elbow on my shoulder. one time he waits in my room for three hours to startle me when I come back. another time I start slipping condiment packets in his pocket while he's not paying attention for him to find later.

he asks me where I would take him if he got to travel in my world. I say europe. he asks why. I say because it's my home.

we hold hands, sometimes. we have our own bad thoughts and bad dreams about things we both hoped we've moved on from. unlike everything else, we don't talk about them. sometimes when I lie in his bed he lies with me. one night he makes me recount le petit prince from memory, sits in silence the entire time, and then asks if they really rereleased morbius just for it to flop a second time.

he starts holding my hand a little tighter, and wondering if it's possible to be in love, at his age and circumstance. one day he tries to kiss me and I dodge on instinct, expecting a bite. he laughs about my reflexes and kisses me anyway.

I can't understand his homesickness just like he can't understand mine. we still try.

we dye chunks of each other's hair one night and the next morning we wake up in the same bed. at some point he says he loves me like it's the most natural thing. I understand. I love him like it's breathing. it feels like the easiest thing about this world.

[bibillyhillsbaby]

♧ hello queenie!!! wanted to join the fun hehe

omg my queen has entered my inbox!!! hello sabrina! 😘

You’re my: amazing and beautiful kdrama moot who has the best recs and taste in men!!! FELLOW PARK SEO JOON ENTHUSIAST and correct opinions on everything ily and your sexc brain 😍

How I met you: aaaahhh i think it was through t? all i know it that once i saw your url i knew i had to follow and then i saw your ADORABLE icon and was like "um wow she's perfect and posts only perfect things???" - i'm very happy we now tag each other in stuff, i love to be wrecked daily by handsome men™

Why I follow you: i will restate here, that i seriously trust your opinions on all kdramas and groups (shinee = the best) - i'm pretty sure you have handedly influenced me listening to certain groups (ie wayv, who i love) and most definitely influenced what i watch!!! (thank you for putting doom at your service on my dash i would be lost without it and you). ALSO your amazing art??? your edits are STUNNING!!! the bts buttercups one lives in my mind 24/7 i honestly want a print of it to hang on my wall 💛 not to mention you are also sooo so funny and such a delight of a person !! thank you for being your amazing self!!

Your blog is: ummm my taejin heart wow im 🥺 (tae is looking at jin how i look at jin, which is [redacted])

Your URL is: ICONIC!!! HANDS DOWN BEST URL ON THIS SITE!!!! evidence that you must have been on tumblr since way back when to get your hands on such an iconic url - i trust it, i love it (zayn malik being the only person with correct opinions correlates to tumblr user zmalik being the only tumblr user with correct opinions)

Your icon is: the cutest and also now that i now the story behind it is even better (the layers! the depth! 🧅) the fact that it's psj looking cute as hell, the soothing purple, the cute blush, and finally that he is saying SHINEE IS THE BEST (i support you in all that you do but i think that if you ever changed your icon i would have a good cry for a bit)

A random fact I know about you: you are park seojoon's secret wife.... was i not supposed to share that for everyone to see?? oops 😬

General opinion: i love you, i count on you for anything and everything kdrama and kpop related, you are such an important presence on my dash and i am so glad we are friends (besties, even? 🥺)

A random thought I have: do you have a favorite kdrama of all time?

OMG i have another random thought which is that THIS PHOTO of Seo Inguk came up on my PINTEREST OF ALL PLACES and i thought of you

(Like? Is this allowed??? 😳😳😳)

[siriusmydeer]

his bunny

remus lupin x fem!reader

summary: remus sees you tutoring someone before a full moon, and he gets jealous.

word count: 3.1k

warning: fem!receiving oral, pet names, breeding kink, degrading, creampie, choking, penetration, missionary, edging, marking, possession kink, swearing, kissing, mentions of tearing up, mentions of subspace, dom!remus, sub!reader, daddy kink, size kink

a/n: this wasn’t requested but i wanted to write a long smut for 500 followers so THANK YOU. also happy birthday daddy lupin

5:04pm— fuck, you were late.

three hours of incessant tutoring, i mean making amortentia wasn’t immensely difficult but you had top marks in potions so you could’ve been biased. well that was unless you were a fifth year hufflepuff with their head up their own arse.

the only reason you agreed to use your your at liberty time was mainly because mcgonagall bribed you with house points that could’ve meant well later on.

“no— you stir anti-clockwise four times, not clockwise three times.” your teeth were gritted, in a jaw lock as your patience slowly drained because he failed to make such a simple potion yet again. a harsh sigh left your mouth while you to undergo all the steps again and fix the potion and restart it yet again.

“sorry—“ “nope, it’s fine. don’t apologize.” swiftly cutting off the younger boy with the only stoicism you had left. you were tremendously trying to restrain yourself from screaming in his face that he was keeping you from your boyfriend and all you wanted was to be done with this foolish potion.

as you were in the midst of explaining how to put the powered moonstone into the cauldron you heard the mahogany door of the library swing open with a small creak, revealing your agitated boyfriend. his face was flushed, he was angry; due to his low amount of patience and mood control of the week before the brimming moon he so effortlessly dreaded.

you watched his eyes erratically scan the room, eying every student before his narrowed eyes watched your dumbfounded figure, startled by his sudden outburst. of course, you weren’t surprised by his high-temperamental acts that landed right smack in the library but you had made a promise to a professor you had adorned and you were silently trying to create a monologue to reason with your short-tempered boyfriend.

your breath suddenly slows into shallow breaths at the view in front of you. a sharp march in your direction, walking over to your table wondering why you’re in the library with another male, that was not him. your thoughts were barely registering in your brain like a puzzle you had to quickly put together, kyle, the hufflepuff you had been tutoring finally put together in his brain to stir in the correct direction and actually finished the potion error-free.

“y/n.” you heard deep voice of your boyfriend suddenly a meter away from your sat figure on the old wood of the chair. his arms are crossed in a defensive manner, his patience suddenly cut short and anger starting to freely bubble in his tone and body language.

“yes— sorry! i was— am tutoring, erm... kyle, remus, remus, kyle.” your words sputtered by the intimidating tone of your boyfriend, attempting to ease the tension by introducing him to the hufflepuff.

what was usually to come with the full-phase of the moon is recurrent mood swings, immense possessiveness, overbearing jealousy, teeth-gritting impatience and the overflow of sorrow. yes, it was almost maddening how he just assumed anyone with a palpitating heart was interested in you.

on the other hand, it also made you tremendously turned on by his demeanour of wanting to claim you all for himself.

“oh, sorry— must’ve kept you... finished my potion. thanks for the help, y/n.” the boy awkwardly trailed off, remus freezing up at the boy just saying your name.

you were his, and he wanted everyone to know it.

the younger hufflepuff sensing the tension grabbed his satchel as well as his books and giving you a nod on the way out of the library. “remus— i promise, it’s just studying.” the sentence incoherent from the rapid blubbering of your words attempting already trying to ease your boyfriend, standing up and putting your agile hands onto his fit torso.

his body slightly loosening from your delicate touch, but still feeling the swing of his mood suddenly change back into short tempered and angered from another male keeping you from him; feeling the dominating jealously run coarse through his system sensing the feeling of of dominance about to explode through him like a firework.

as we was in a daze, his eyes narrowed onto your figure. you awkwardly shifted confused on what you were suppose to do as he stood there staring at you. in an attempt to create a less tense environment for you both you started to pack your things. your mind putting the puzzle pieces together slowly, preparing you for a long intense night.

his attention quickly snapped on your smaller figure, his whole body being able to hover over you with his slender one. he blinked at you for a moment before carding your fingers together and dragging you out of the library as subtle as possible all the way to the gryffindor tower where his dormitory had been for the last six years.

much to remus’ content, that day was quidditch practice so that knocked out both sirius and james from occupying the dorm. peter had been out with his ravenclaw partner working on a defence against the dark arts essay, which meant his dormitory was completely empty; and free for use.

as soon as the oak wood of the door was closed you were immediately pressed against it; feeling small splinters hit the back of your blouse and the feeling his abrasive fingers squeezing the sides of your throat. your flat adam’s apple bobbing his his velvety palm whilst he held you against the door.

“you’re. mine.” his tone dark and possessive, his face lowering to meet yours to the point you could feel his heavy breath fan over your flushed face; caught off guard from his actions.

“only mine to love, only mine to touch, only mine to fuck.” he emphasized his words as he spoke, his grip growing tighter on your throat feeling the tips of his fingernails graze your skin.

your breath heaving as he continued to keep eye contact slightly intimidating you, your irises blowing out in lust at the tone of his voice. “show me... show me i’m yours.” you jabbered, your voice slightly shaking in a whisper due to his hand restricting your throat but still able to keep a steady breath aside from your exceedingly high heart rate.

he was taken a back by your insist for his dominance amplified by the full moon. your sentence clicked in his brain, his other hand carding through the nape of your hair and the remaining hand holding your throat unapplying all the pressure, eventually pulling your face in his direct view, he was debating on what to do; still afraid that he might go to hard and hurt you.

he opted for the option that pursued him pushing your lips together, feeling your chapstick-coated lips meld into his. continuing his actions but slipping his tongue slip into your mouth, his familiar and comforting flavour bleeding onto your taste buds and the the tinge of mint and strawberry transfusing onto his own tongue.

the male started to squeeze the column of your throat, squeezing the sides emitting an almost incoherent whine from you. the grip he had on your hair was enough to tug you towards his four poster bed. letting your back fall against the made bed and his own body loitering above your own.

his lips were aggressively separated from yours, before you could even muster another whine his lips collided with the side of your neck. feeling his lips suck into your skin, giving little bites as he continuing his marks across the expanse of your neck.

he sat up for a moment to admire his work, looking at your neck in awe of how beautiful you look with his markings. his hands got a hold ripping off both his tie and his dress shirt from his body that was beginning to burn in desire.

he finally got his fingers around your house tie instantaneously chucking the fabric across his dorm, and jerking open your white blouse almost tearing most of the buttons that were sewed into your top in the process.

“remus— my top!” you abruptly cried out at the broken blouse that now lied on the floor. “be quiet.” he demanded, not in the mood to play little games. his lips now suckling against your collar bone, his large hands grazing down your torso and firmly digging into the sides of your waist.

you squirmed at the sudden pressure that was pressed into your sides. his other hand grabbed at your thigh vigorously melding you into his mattress, the other securely wrapping his fingers around the depth of your throat. feeling your pulsating heart through his fingers that had been plummeting in anticipation since your arrived in his dorm.

“daddy— please.” you whimpered, the sudden urge of lechery scathing your nervous system completely, drowning out any other forms of feeling. you wanted him, you needed to feel him.

“awe— you’re begging like the whore you are.” his voice in strict mockery and faux-sympathetic tone, grinning at your squirming figure beneath his own.

“m’sorry- i jus’ i need you!” continuing to plead as his face that was smirking like the cheshire fucking cat. his hand moved from the level planes of your thigh all the way to your bum, kneading the flesh, bound to become scarlet, within his smooth palms.

“be a good girl for once, and be quiet.” remus reprimanded, his tone thick and hoarse; his dominant headspace slowly blurring his vision.

he glanced upon your torso, the gryffindor pride running throughly around his veins knowingly that everyone would see the fuchsia and plum hues that rested prettily on your skin, that everyone would know whom you belonged too; him.

you stared up at his hovering body, his torso moving lower to and his lips beginning to sponge needy kisses to your lower abdomen, then further flipping up the fabric of your hemmed school skirt. ”dirty girl, these f’me?” the boy slurred while smirking, toying with the hem of your red-lace panties.

“mhm, yes daddy.” you feverishly nodded whilst answering your boyfriend. he snapped the red-lace against your navel once, producing a small shock through your body due to his manipulation; ultimately making your need exceedingly more in the time he spent trifling with your underwear.

“please— stop teasing daddy, i need you!” the whine escapes your throat as you spoke in anguish. the feeling of urgency for you boyfriend to touch you was plummeting through the roof as you attempted to restrict yourself from compressing your legs together and rid of the urge between your thighs.

“stop teasing? don’t you deserve it, hm?” he continued to mock at your inevitable squirming, snapping the thong right against your hip bone. hearing the small ‘snap’ that emitted from it following a small whine of need.

his face got closer, nosing at your core than further dragging the red-lace down the planes of your legs; tossing them on the oak wood floor. starting at your thighs splotching small wet kisses continuing whilst he progressed further up.

you began to card your trembling fingers through his fawn tresses, your fingers quivering from expectancy. his lips progressing further up the expanse of your inner thighs continuing to suck small splotches of vermillion on your inner thighs like he previously did across your throat. your body basically screaming ‘i belong to remus lupin!’

his eyes darted towards you once, one of your hands clutched onto his plaid bedding and the other clasping onto his roots; your head was thrown back, eyes rapidly blinking in suspense.

his to tongue made contact with your folds, feeling your arousal glaze his tongue while he constructed figure eight movements. he felt the gasp that was pulled through your lungs, and trifling moans trembling from your from your throat.

you felt remus’ tongue dive into the depths of your cunt, a small shockwave running up the crevices of your spine and settling itself in your belly awaiting for the feeling of pleasure to build.

“s’good daddy, so, s’good.” babbles of praise emitted from your lips as you clutched harder onto his fawn-coloured tresses. 

he continued to lap into your core, hitting sensitive spots that could make your legs mindlessly quiver. “daddy— m’gonna—“ as you were about to notify your boyfriend of your orgasam his lips pulled away entirely.

his own lips were slightly puffed out and wet from your arousal, his face slightly flushed from the dominance that had overtaken him. “y’didnt think i’d let you come that easily, did you?” remus taunted, a smirk making its way into his lips as your legs were starting to settle and the fire that was burnt into your belly had washed away like a small wave only awaiting his tongue more.

“but dadd—“ you attempted to coerce him, before he cut you off. “c’mon bunny, ‘ve got to teach you a lesson now. y’know what happens when you beg like a little whore, hmm?” he reprimanded yet again, whilst sneaking his tendril fingers back towards your thighs that he had previously marked; drawing small little swirls on the flesh of your skin.

he ran a slender finger through your folds once, feeling you spring up a bit in sensitivity. you felt tears prick your waterline in desperation, further feeling a second finger swipe through your arousal once more.

he lowered his face again beneath your skirt, kissing the skin of your navel once before putting his tongue to use: drawing lazy circles upon your clit.

your body started to feel the shockwaves of pleasure build slightly faster from the previous edge that had made your body sensitive to the touch. his abnormally large hands placed both your thighs on the density of his shoulders, pulling your cunt closer to him; his impossible werewolf strength giving him the means for his hands ableing himself to maneuver your whole body in anyway he wanted.

the burn in your lower abdomen is quickly rebuilt, pleasure running thick through your bloodstream. you were immensely fraught if he would let you finish, awaiting for the pleasure to take you in.

you felt him remove his tongue and replace its absence with his ring and middle finger, dragging through your walls that were clenching around his fingers. the sudden shock of being full beyond pleasuring you enough for your eyes to roll back, your back completely arching at his fingers dragging against your g-spot.

“daddy, daddy, please! ‘ve been good, learnt my lesson. i promise!” you jabbered in between moans at his swift fingers that could’ve had you gripping your own tresses if it weren’t for your hands being occupied with remus’ hair and his bed sheets. “let me cum, please let me cum.” gasping in a pleading and dire tone.

you felt suddenly empty again, no contact made with remus as he pulled his fingers from inside your clenched walls and swiping them through his tongue. he began to hover over your quivering body, the burn in your abdomen slowly began non-existent. you began to recoil your body; the same feeling of pricking tears making an appearance on your waterline.

“c’mon puppy, you can’t think your begging will break me now?” his tone condescending at you jutted your lips out with a pout. he ran his thumb across the expanse of your pouted lips once, before rapidly grabbing the nape of your hair forcing his bronze irises with green swirls into your own desperate-pleading eyes.

“if you’re such a good girl, you’ll cum when i say you can.” his tone strict, his hand ripping away from your tresses that began to become mangled from all the squirming you had previously endured from your orgasam pulled from you.

he quickly slotted his fingers around the buckle of his belt, swiftly pulling it off along with the material of his slack pants leaving him adorned in a pair of tight briefs. his hard-on obnoxiously present and intimidating, remus pulled your view up from his cock to his eyes with his thumb and forefinger resting under your almost-quivering chin.

“y’gonna be a good puppy and do what i tell you to, or y’gonna be bad and m’gonna have to punish you again?” remus questioned, seeing you eagerly nod at his question.

he anxiously rid himself of the intolerable tight material of his boxers. “m’little whore, this little skirt on.” he observed running the tip of his cock leaking in precum through your folds again. your body reacting to it extravagantly, additionally sensitive from his previous denied orgasams.

you panted in suspense, eyes widened and your arms grappling upon his scarred forearms that rested by the sides of your flushed face.

his velvet like hand grabbing both sides of your cheeks, jutting your lips into a recurrent pout. he smirked at your vulnerability and imprudence; the lust in your pupils directly for him.

“beg. beg like m’little fucking slut.” he spoke with a necessitated tone. you gasped a bit, suddenly feeling the immense pressure of his hands grappling at your cheeks and his prick slowly entering your cunt.

“please— please daddy, need you. need so you so, so bad. please i’ll— anything daddy, i’ll do anything.” gasping out slightly slurring your words that were mumbled, from his hands grasped on your face ; you felt as as he continued to push into you.

“finally, y’know how to do something right.” then you felt him slowly pulse in and out of you, your cunt hypersensitive feeling the pain and pleasure dance on your clit as his pubic bone rubbed against it with every thrust becoming more aggressive and rough.

from the built pleasure of seeing your writhe underneath him, his cock was ready to be overstimulated in the warmth of your cunt.

“m’little cockslut, doin’ so well f’me. gonna breed you like m’little bitch.” his voice slurred from pleasure as he praised you in the midst of his dominant blurred headspace. the building pleasure in his prick, was moving rapidly as the friction between you both building up briskly from the unabating tension and teasing.

“m’gonna cum, please, let me cum!” your voice rasped from crying out to him, and your gasps filling the empty spaces between your words.

“cum bunny, want you to cum.” his voice was sharp as he grunted, his jaw clenched almost at his point of own release but awaiting you to finish first.

at his que you sputtered out a mix of moans and ‘thank-you’s’ to him, feeling like a bunch of shock waves had warped your nervous system and releasing all of your arousal over remus’ cock. feeling like a bunch of stars at washed over your blurred vision, almost pushing you into further submission of him.

you panted deeply, trying to catch your breath feeling him plunge into your cunt one last time before his release had throughly coated your walls with his cum.

he was heavily breathing whilst he hovered over your quivering body, staying completely inside of you; keeping you full of his cum and clenched around his prick.

“that’s what happens when you’re late, m’dear.”

taglist: @fathermarty @idk-maybe-snape-did-it @kittykylax @terr0rizer @aspiringsloth20 @maddoxsmythologicalmind @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa @dear-luna @famdomhideout @hufflepogue

[hardlyinteresting]

Risks Worth Taking 2/2

This is the second half, part 2/2 of the story, thank you to everyone who has read it! Professor!Zemo x Student reader Part 1 here The reader takes Zemo’s philosophy class focusing on Machiavelli. Posted in 2 parts because it exceeded the textbox limit. Apx 3k words.

Warnings: student-teacher relationship (the reader is of age, no real focus on power imbalance), implied age gap, consumption of alcohol, implication that the reader is sleeping with Zemo for better grades (she's not) and of course let me know if you want me to add anything else!!

Week five, he is not shocked to find she’s once again the first one in class. “Good evening,” he greets warmly, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck as he makes his way to his desk. She smiles back, “I left my paper on your desk there, I figured I’d get the pile started”. He laughs setting down his coat and bag, “Something tells me there will be few submissions for this class”.

He’s right. Less than half the class bothers to show up. Most of her peers seem to be getting a head start on winter break, at least the class is quiet she thinks content listening to Helmut summarize the most recently assigned chapters, providing historical context where needed.

“Enjoy your break Helmut,” she says softly as he shuts the lecture hall door.

“You as well. Do you have plans?” She shakes her head, “No, just reading”. He smiles, “Then I am sure it will be a good break indeed”.

The cafe is warm and cosy. She settles comfortably into her favourite booth with her favourite book and a second cup of tea.

The bell at the front door dings as a man enters in a long black coat and leather gloves. Fancy she thinks to herself as he approaches the counter to order. It's usually other students dressed in sweatpants and hoodies, the man’s put together dress piques her interest. He orders and then she watches over the top of her book as he drops a $10 bill into the barista’s tip jar. Oh, well dressed and exceedingly well mannered. She can't help but watch him as he waits. Removing his gloves he tucks them into his pockets and unbuttons his coat, she swears she can smell his cologne from where she sits; it's incredible!

“Cherry blossom tea for Helmut?” The barista calls sliding the cup across the counter.

Helmut? It isn't. Is it? He turns after saying a polite thank you, and she can feel her heart hammering as he turns and she sees his face. It is. She's not sure why she's shocked, she did tell him about this place after all. Do I say something? She wonders, weighing the pros and cons, but her thoughts are halted when she hears his voice,

“Hello,” he smiles softly, “I didn't expect you to be here--I know you pointed this place out, but I wasn't--”

He's worried he's intruding. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“No, no. It's okay! I don't own the place-- did you want to sit? You don't have to--”

He chuckles as her nerves get the best of her.

Silently he sets down his cup shrugging out of his coat, putting it over the back of the chair before sitting down.

“What are you reading?” He smiles, trying to peak at the cover.

Again, after their initial stiffness, the conversation flows smoothly, just like it had in his office. After several warm drinks, and a couple croissants ordered between the two of them it’s grown dark outside. Neither had noticed the cafe empty out slowly over the hours, the barista cleaning up for the night until she clears her throat from behind the counter. They both turn to look at her, finally noticing how quiet the shop is.

“Sorry, we’re closing now,” the barista smiles sweetly. “Not a problem. I apologise, we lost track of time. We’ll get out of your way,” Helmut apologizes. The pair collect their things sliding back into their coats and gloves. Helmut waits patiently for her to be ready to go his hand resting gently at the small of her back as she slips out of the booth and past him.

Helmut stops and puts another bill in the girl’s tip jar.

“Sorry for keeping you,” he apologises again.

Outside the winter wind is cold against their faces.

“Are you hungry?” Helmut asks.

“I could eat,” She responds. “Ever been there?” Helmut asks pointing to the pub across the street. “I don’t know if it’s your speed. It’s not super nice or anything, but their food is decent,” she says honestly. He laughs, “‘Decent’ is better than what I can make at home by myself”.

She bites her lip thinking about it, does he want to spend more time with me?

“Okay,” she smiles as they make their way across the street.

Settled at a table, they wait for their server, she asks, “Was that a fifty dollar bill I saw you put in that tip jar?”

He shrugs, “Yes”.

He says that as if it’s normal, she thinks.

“I know you’re not from here, but you do know that’s a lot of money right?” “Yes,” he shrugs again, “But she made excellent tea all afternoon, she let us stay as late as she could and she was polite. And I have been here long enough to know that servers of any kind don’t get paid fairly. I can afford it, she deserves it”.

She feels the smile grow across her face, she considers gushing that he’s such a good person, but instead what comes out is, “I’m really starting to consider becoming a professor”.

He laughs, “I told you, it’s family money, not my facility pay”. God, that laugh, sets off butterflies in her stomach, the warm, genuine sound of his laughter.

He continues, “Before Sokovia fell, my family were royalty. I was a Baron there”. “I knew your name sounded familiar,” she sighs, “I remember hearing about Sokovia on the news. I remember your name, you were building orphanages and relief centres”.

He nods sadly, “Many of us thought we could salvage what we had left after everything. We couldn’t”.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, without thinking she reaches across the table to place a comforting hand on his arm. His hand comes to cover hers, so much larger than her own.

There’s a silence between them for one of the first moment since he sat down with her earlier at the cafe. But it’s not uncomfortable, it’s the opposite -- a silence of understanding, both parties knowing there’s nothing they can say to make things better-- they can only ruminate.

The peace is broken by a waiter coming to take their orders. “Do you drink Helmut?” She asks with a mischievous smile. “I have been known to indulge,” he confesses, his eyebrows furrowed. “Two shots of ?” she turns to look at Helmut expectantly. “Vodka,” he replies. “Two shots of vodka, and an order of cheese fries to share please,” she orders, “thank you”.

The waiter returns not before long, placing the drinks and food on the table.

She holds her shot glass up waiting for him to do the same. “Prost,” he says raising his glass towards her. “Cheers,” she responds clinking her glass into his before they both tip them back.

And that’s how their night begins.

It’s nearing midnight when they settle their bill, Helmut insisting he pay-- though she put up a good fight. “Can I walk you home?” He asks looking at her under the light of the street lamps. She nods, her face feeling warm both from his attention and the alcohol coursing through her bloodstream. Her apartment is only three blocks away, but time seems to slow down as they walk arm in arm through the freshly fallen snow. At her door they stop, she looks up at him, him down at her. Without a thought, lips meet. It’s not rough or particularly sexy, but she feels her knees go weak when his hand comes to cup her cheek, his other splayed across the small of her back pulling her closer. This kiss deepens and she clutches the lapel of his wool coat before they both pull away. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Don’t be,” she sighs.

Then the thought hits her, “How are you getting home?” “Oh-- I was going to get a cab and go back to the cafe to pick up my car in the morning,” he explains. “Nonsense-- you can stay here,” she offers unlocking her door and stepping inside, he doesn’t follow. “Not in my bed,” she laughs flicking on the light, “I’ll set you up on the couch”. He steps inside.

In the morning he wakes to the sun shining through the window. It takes him a minute to orient himself remembering he crashed on her couch. He sits up taking a moment to look around the apartment, it’s cute. Books and textbooks and notebooks strewn about the place. It’s homey and inviting and every bit what he’d expect her space to look like. Carefully he grabs one of the open notebooks tearing out a page he writes a quick note:

Good morning, I find that I feel very sorry for having to leave before you wake. Alas, I have much to get done, and I do not wish to trespass in your home longer than needed. I am grateful for your hospitality, and even more, your company. If my memory serves correctly I must also apologise for making that advance towards you last night. It was ungentlemanly, and you are unquestionably deserving of much better. I hope you can forgive me, and that you might allow me to make it up to you. -Helmut

Week six.

“He should appear to be compassionate, faithful to his word, guileless, and devout.” Is written across the board. When she settles into her seat. She’s not early this week, rather just on time. Helmut notes the heavy rise and fall of her chest as she tries to catch her breath, he holds back a smile at the thought of her sprinting to his class. When the class is settled, he proceeds to hand back all of the submitted essays, now marked. He smiles as he sets hers on her desk, “Bravo,” he says quietly enough that just she hears it as he shuffles along to the next row of students. She anxiously flips to the last page, red pen scrawl reads 100%. Her jaw drops. There’s no way. She thinks back to the rumours she heard on campus at the beginning of the year, about how difficult a marker he is. Bullshit. Her blood boils, rage sizzling beneath her skin. She avoids his eyes for the rest of class staring down at her notebook as she notices the indents in the blank page-- indents left from where he had written her a note that morning. Her anger freezes replaced by the cold sinking feeling in her chest. All his kind words, all those moments shared-- did he really think she was just spending time with him for a better grade? What kind of handout does he expect to get from her? She scolds herself now for the little crush she’d developed-- how stupid could she be? The prince must appear to be virtuous in order to hide his actions, She remembers from her reading, a dagger to her chest as she thinks bitterly that she’s not shocked that the professor is practising what he preaches.

The class ends and he moves to collect his paperwork, sorting it back into his bag. She stays. “I’m glad you stayed behind,” he starts. “I’m sure you are,” she says sharply. Confused he puts his things down turning to face her. “Have I done something to upset you?” He asks seriously his head tilted to the side as he racks his brain for anything he may have done to make her so cross. Perhaps his note was not sufficient in conveying his apology? “Do you think I’m stupid? Or that I’m naive?” she asks arms crossed, “I’m not sleeping with you for a good grade,” she states firmly, sliding her essay back across her desk, “feel free to adjust my grade accordingly”. Is that what she thinks? His mouth goes dry, his mind and heart racing with all the different ways he wants to apologise, to tell her that she has it wrong. He approaches her, finally making eye contact with her, “Your grade will stay as it is. I mark all of my student’s work without looking at the cover pages. I have always strived to remain impartial. Your essay was marked no differently,” He explains calmly, “I would be wrong to say that I don’t hold any affections for you-- it is quite the opposite. I enjoy the time we have spent together, and I would like to continue to remain in your company; I hope to eventually find myself in your affections-- but none of this has any bearing on your grade. I am sorry that I have acted in a way where this was not clear”. Her throat clenches, oh. “I’m sorry--Oh my god--I’m so stupid!” her hand flies to cover her mouth. “You have nothing to apologise for-- I should be the one apologising,” he insists. She shakes her head standing to stand in front of him, “We’ve both been obtuse”. “I’d like to make it up to you. I’d like to take you out for dinner-- a proper meal. If you’ll allow me”. She nods her hand coming to rest on his cheek, thumb running gently across his cheekbone, “I would like that,” she says quietly, her eyes glazing at his lips, “But only after the semester is done and I’ve graduated”. “If that is what you want,” he nods understanding. She can feel him leaning in, her eyes flickering up to his caramel eyes and back down to his lips, his hand rests on her hip, but he waits for her to close the gap between them.

Last day of the school year.

She waits by the door to the lecture hall as he speaks to his class. She listens to the back and forth of conversing ideas from the students, her heart beating faster every time Helmut speaks. It takes a while for everyone to leave when the class is over, but he does his best not to make her wait too long, gathering his things as quickly as possible, he makes his way over to her.

“Maybe I should’ve taken this course, the conversation was much more lively!” She laughs. “Your intelligent thoughts would have been wasted here, my dear” He smiles shutting the door behind him, “your class needed a brilliant mind in it”.

The summer goes by quickly. Fine dining, nights in. reading during rainstorms. Nights of soft romance, followed by nights of passion. Pasts shared. Futures envisioned. In his bed the night before the new school year she rolls over to lay almost on top of him, laughing when he lets out an oof. “Old man she teases,” earning a playful pinch on the thigh from him.

She glances at his nightstand, a copy of The Prince laying there.

“And what are your personal feelings about Machiavelli anyway? You never speak about your own thoughts”

“You're so clever,” he laughs, “but you're right”.

He sighs pulling her closer. he tries to focus on his hand running up and down her arm, how soft her sweater is under his fingertips. He takes a deep breath before speaking, “every time I read it, my opinions change,” he confesses, “there was a time when I was young and stupid; thought I was invincible that I agreed with a lot of his ideals. Then I grew older, fell in love--I thought him stupid and lonely. I experienced an incredible loss--”

She squeezes his side as she hears his voice grow tense with tears, he swallows and continues, “and then I thought I understood him. I learned how to grieve and I thought him intolerable. In the end I learn more about myself than I do him”.

She smiles, “and have you read it lately?”

He nods kissing her softly, “I have”.

“And?”

“I learned to trust my instincts. To take the risks that are worth taking”

“You're kind of a sap,” she laughs, her face getting warm she buries it in his chest. Part 1 here

[lady-literature]

I rewrite Sky High

okay so, disclaimer: sky high was actually pretty damn good for it’s time and a lot of the plot twists/tropes used in it were still just starting out and not as commonplace as they are today. so 10/10 really good movie.

Also as i was writing this, it turned into half analysis of what’s already in the movie and half things I would change about the movie so,,, yeah. enjoy!

***

So the point about Sky High is that and the way the school and hero society as a whole works, is that you, as the audience, are supposed to look at it and know that it’s a flawed system. We’re supposed to see it as an injustice that kids are sorted into hero or sidekick- Sorry, I mean ‘Hero Support,’ on your first day of school based on something you can’t even control.

(This movie was my hero academia-ing it up before it was cool.)

Anyway, the movie calls a lot of attention to it in the beginning, but then doesn't actually give it the resolution it deserves in the end. Which, not cool guys.

The Hero/Sidekick debacle is, on the whole, a very thinly veiled metaphor for the problems minorities face. Specifically, those of the alphabet mafia, or LGBTQ, as we’re more commonly known.

There are a lot of examples for this so I’ll speed through the big ones real quick:

Will’s nerves regarding not having attraction to girls superpowers?

The way he tries to fake having an attraction to girls superpowers to get approval from his dad?

Being literally outed in front of his whole class (by someone named Boomer no less) and then immediately trying to hide it from his parents as long as possible?

The constant references to being a ‘late bloomer’. Doesn’t it remind you of the common phrases: ‘it’s just a phase’ or ‘don’t worry. You’ll start liking [opposite gender] eventually.’ ?

The scene in the kitchen, right after Will introduces the Sidekick Squad (and yes, that is what I’ll be referring to them as for the rest of this essay tumblr post). Will is so obviously trying to gauge how his dad is going to take his friends being sidekicks and also him being a sidekick. I just, this is so blatantly a coming out scene? How does anybody not see it as that?

(also the dad talking so offhandedly about bigotry and the hatred his own father had for sidekicks??? Who else has been there?)

Will telling his dad that he doesn’t care, that he’s proud of being gay to be a sidekick is just,,, *chef’s kiss*

With all of this backing behind Will and him growing into not being ashamed of his lack of powers, My first change would be that Will does not, in fact receive his father’s super strength. It’s just such a cop out! The movie had all this amazing build up, and this brilliant metaphor it could have used and, instead, they threw it all away.

The sudden acquisition of powers and immediate acceptance by his peers, feels too close to someone being ‘fixed’. That Will wasn’t good enough the way he was and had to be better, had to be his father in order to be good enough.

So, no. Will remains powerless.

Instead of the revelation of ‘he’s strong’, we get to let the Sidekick Squad shine.

Lash and Speed still cause a fight between Warren and Will, but when Will is under the table, the sidekicks actually do something.

Will knocks the table over (not, like, lifting Warren up but something closer to pushing him off. I mean, even I could push upwards from underneath a table fast enough that if someone is standing on it, they’d lose their balance and fall to the ground) and that starts things.

The Sidekick Squad all grab forgotten lunch trays or cartons of milk or something and throw it at Warren. It isn’t long then that the whole scene devolves into a food fight (Zach, at least, does not have good aim and probably hits a bystander accidentally, drawing more people in, until the whole cafeteria is involved.) The fight turns into something more playful, but still with that bit of an undertone of trying to actually hurt each other.

Ethan melts at one point and (accidentally) causes Warren to slip and land on his back, Magenta probably punches someone (not Warren) and Zach is just mouthing off to anybody who gets close enough. Near the end, right before Principal Powers shows up, Layla finally gets the right idea and just fire extinguishes the shit out of Warren.

(Side note here: I am very much also nixing the Layla crushes on Will plotline. I love best friends to lovers just as much as the next person but… no. Let kids see boy/girl friendships! 

Instead, I will be inserting a Layla/Warren love story and you can consider this the first scene on the road for that.)

Anyway, the whole Sidekick Squad plus Warren ends up in the detention room and all of them are covered in food. Right after Principal Powers leaves, the Sidekick Squad is immediately talking excitedly to each other about how cool they just were and what they did. Basically it’s very wholesome and they’re all hyping each other up and then one of them, Layla or Will, excitedly turns to Warren and goes, ‘and that thing you did with the fireballs? God! I don’t think Lash is going to have any eyebrows for a month’ and the tension between them all but drops.

Warren, of course, tries to push them away and not get involved with their ridiculousness, but the Sidekick Squad is stubborn and by the end of detention, everyone but Warren is in agreement that he’s a part of the Squad now. They will not leave him alone. They also start hanging out at the Paper Lantern all the time just to annoy/make fun of him in that loving way friends do.

(I just want Warren to be a part of the Squad guys. Will calls him his best friend at the end but what did the movie actually do to show they were friends? Nothing, that’s what. I want that fixed.)

So the cafeteria fight boosts the whole Squad’s reputation, right? People think those sidekicks are pretty cool, and they get their fifteen minutes of fame. Only… Will gets a little hooked on the feeling of being popular. He doesn’t want to be a capital-h Hero or anything! But, well… he’d be lying if he didn’t like people thinking he was cool.

The others don’t really care all that much about being cool, but Will does. He hates that he does but what is he supposed to do? He can’t change how he feels. So he starts trying to make himself more popular and sometimes tries dragging his friends into stupid schemes.

And then enter stage right, one Gwen Grayson.

I prefer Gwen being Royal Pain’s daughter, actually. A girl who would’ve had no stock in this fight but her mother, who is sickly and weak and survives mostly because her daughter takes care of her, practically brainwashes Gwen to do her bidding.

Gwen is a minion here, and also, perhaps, a victim.

At first, she follows her mom’s orders and charms Will into dating her. She also feeds into his desire to gain popularity but can’t, in this world, break him from his friends. Actually, Will brings Gwen along to the Sidekick Squad hangouts and, slowly, she becomes a part of the group too.

She starts to doubt her mother. Starts to care for Will and the Squad.

She throws the party, and the Squad is all invited (trying to break them up isn’t conducive to the Plan her mother has anyway and wouldn’t work besides) but she lures Will away to make out and… other things, and he brings her to the Sanctum for privacy just like before. She still steals the pacifier (or whatever death ray equivalent you want idk) but she and Will don’t break up at the end of the night.

It’s not actually until two days later, right before the dance is going to start, does Gwen decide she can’t stand back and let this happen anymore. She spills the whole plot and her betrayal to Will when he comes to pick her up for the dance. She’s crying and apologizing and basically expecting to be hated forever by the only people she thinks ever actually liked her.

And, well. Will is furious at her for lying but there’s more important things to deal with at the moment. They’ll talk more about this and he’ll be angry, but that’s all going to be later. Right now they have a school to save so he grabs her hand and starts running to warn the rest of their friends.

Things happen mostly as canon from that point with minor changes.

It’s Warren who pulls Layla into a kiss before they all split off into groups, telling her to kick ass and stay safe before sprinting off after Speed. There have been scenes throughout the movie where the two are very obviously getting closer and are into each other. And then, before the dance, while Gwen and Will we’re technically going as a couple, the whole Squad was going as a group.

When Warren and Layla saw each other all dolled up, it’s very cliché. Warren says she looks nice and Layla visibly gulps at his outfit of a button down and suit pants, sleeves rolled up to his elbows (because homeboy does not wear a full tux you can fight me on this).

And also, Will doesn’t fight Royal Pain by himself. Instead, Gwen is there with him and they don’t fight with super strength. Gwen’s been helping Will build an arsenal of gadgets a la Batman and the two face off against her mom together, Gwen with her powers, and Will acting as half support and half as a watered-down Batman who still needs some more training before he’s totally polished.

The school falls from the sky, but Gwen buys them time by keeping the anti gravs working through sheer force of will, while Will holds off her mom from attacking her while she’s vulnerable and concentrating. Magenta eventually kills the EMP or whatever it was, and the day is saved.

Gwen passes out, cause ~drama~ but she ends up okay so don’t worry. She’s just exhausted. 

The sidekicks get their recognition and then immediately bounce because dances suck and they all agree that they should go to the Paper Lantern instead to celebrate cause they’re tired, alright? Saving the day is hard.

So it’s all of them, a little battered and bruised and exhausted, crowded into this corner booth and laughing and being kids. The camera does it’s fade to comic book page thing, and the narration is something more along the lines of:

“Royal Pain and her cronies got locked away. Gwen and I talked things out, and she’s getting help for all the stuff her mom did to her. We’re taking things slow in the meantime.

The school is undergoing a lot of changes to the curriculum and getting rid of the whole ‘hero/sidekick’ divisions. (Mostly at the urging of my parents… and Layla). Next year is going to look a lot different, I think.

But it’ll be a good different, just like we are. None of us were what we were expected to be, and, I think, we’re going to keep defying expectations. There’s a whole world out there that needs changing.

And I can’t think of a better group of friends to do it with.”

THE END

(just give me found family saves the day by being themselves rather than somebody else, give me them saving the day because they care about each other, give me them fighting for what’s right and fixing things. please i am b e g g i n g.)

***

Additional nitpicks that are small but Very Important to Me

Coach Boomer is still called coach Boomer because there is no way I am missing out on the ‘okay, boomer’ jokes

Layla stays like Layla, but i’d like for the movie to stop trying to make her seem annoying for her beliefs or like she’s wrong to be so vocal about them. Her caring about things that are wrong ends up as the butt of too many jokes and i… do not like that.

Why so many dad/son scenes? Why this janky imbalance parenting dynamic between the Strongholds. Knock that shit off. I want happy functional family thank you very much

Mr Boy and the mad scientist are very obviously in a relationship

Wait, actually: mr boy, mad scientist and Boomer are al in a poly relationship and are ridiculous about it

I’d like to see more of the sidekick classes going over like, ‘the boring’ parts of the job, and teaching the kids how to deal with the aftermath of the heroes heroics, just to hammer in the fact that the system is fucked up and that it’s messed up that the heroes get all the recognition while the sidekicks are left to clean up the mess

Use actual 14 year old actors? These kids look like seniors.

Or, if you want more ‘mature’ characters make it so sky high is like,,, a finishing school or smth. Something kids 16 and over go to.

(What the fuck kind of parent thinks that their freshman child dating a senior is a good idea?? An almost adult coming onto a fourteen year old??? Are you trying to make Will’s parents (particularly the dad) seem like irresponsible assholes??)

Gwen is, at most, a year above Will in this rewrite, kay?

[olivarryprompts]

Fanfic Friday #11

Welcome to Fanfic Friday! Each Friday I post a new here and on A03. Enjoy x

Read and save it on A03 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/33567529

{fancy suits from dad}

Ships: Peter Stark & Tony Stark, Pepper Pots/Tony Stark

Warnings: swearing, just fluff otherwise :)

Wc: 2,319

Here’s the thing, Peter Parker grew up in Stark Tower, which eventually became Avengers Tower of course. So whilst his whole class was buzzing about their field trip, all he could think was, “shit, shit shit.” His dad was going to embarrass the hell out of him. His Aunts and Uncles were going to endlessly tease him.

So, no Peter was not looking forward to the field trip. Not in the slightest. He still wanted to go, though. He knew that the rumors of his internship being fake were started by Flash, the annoying teen. He also knew that Flash had not once said his real name, preferring the name Penis Parker. It didn’t bother him as much as it used to. Also since highschool began, Flash had calmed down with his bullying. Well, maybe Flash hadn’t calmed down and high school was just bigger and he had thicker skin. And a new support system with plenty of people to go to.

Peter had been adopted by the Starks when he was a mere ten years old. At first, he was terrible at receiving any gifts or even too much attention. Slowly but surely, he got more and more used to it. Now, he wouldn’t not know what to do if any of that was taken away. Plus, he really did find a liking for expensive suits, however shallow. He looked good in them, and his father always insisted on buying him more and more. Tony would always find an excuse to spoil the kid a little more, however much Pepper tried to stop him.

“Peter, please see me after class regarding an urgent matter.”

Brough out of his thoughts, Peter swiftly nodded his head.

He looked at the board to see the words from before still written on them, “Field Trip to Stark Industries!” It might as well have said, “Dig Peter Stark’s Grave!”

“So, let’s get started with today’s lesson, graphing imaginary numbers on the complex plane!” He’d done this one a while back with his father. Something about not only learning applicable science and engineering. Peter tapped his glass, and the episode of Arrow he’d been watching on the car ride over began playing. He’d be ever grateful for his father’s gift of EDITH to him. Pepper had tried to ban him from wearing them to school, but hastily gave up when Peter pulled the spiderman danger card.

“Alright, class dismissed. Please remember to do this homework pages 11-18 on this unit’s homework handout.”

Peter, forgetting his teacher's previous request, was very glad to be on his way home. He was one foot out of the door when the teacher called his name. Now, his day had gone pretty well up to that point. Bucky made pancakes for breakfast, which were delicious. There was wayyy less traffic on the way to school. He’d aced an essay and a couple of quizzes, and then he even participated in PE effectively. But alas, all good things had to come to an end.

“Mr. Parker? The discussion.”

“Right,” Peter thought, joining the teacher at his desk.

“Peter, you are truly a great kid. I know you’ve been through a lot recently and in your life, but it is no excuse to make up an internship. We both know that it is not real. Now, acknowledging that you have a bright future, the administration and I have come forward with an offer. If you agree to write an apology, expressing that you understand what you did was wrong and immoral, you will both be allowed to come on the trip and no punishment will be given to you. If you choose to not take this opportunity, you will be banned from the trip and will be chastised.

Peter just stood there, not really comprehending. Apparently Flash’s little rumors were a lot bigger than he anticipated.

“I-i-I’m not lying,” was all he could manage. He had filed all the right paperwork and proved his internship.

“I’m sorry to hear that you will not come forward with the truth. You have up until the day before the trip to hand in the letter if you change your mind. Goodbye Peter.”

Peter just let his legs take him out of the classroom, then out of the school, and then to the road, a couple blocks away, where his dad picks him up from.

“Hello mini-me.”

“Hey,” Peter said, jumping into the passenger seat.

“‘Hi Dad, thanks so much for taking time out of your busy schedule to pick me up each and every day. Sick new car by the way! I’d love to drive it sometime!”

Peter just rolled his eyes with a smile, “Car looks great dad. McLarren’s are superior yet.”

“Ungrateful, so so ungrateful. What’s got you in a mood then?”

“Nothin,” Peter said, pulling out his phone.

“Oh come on, tell me. Tell me or I’ll call Ted.”

“Ned, Dad. We’ve been friends for like three years.”

“Not the point.”

“Just something at school.”

“Wow how very descriptive. You know I’m trying to do the whole feelings thing here, and you should appreciate that coming from my emotionally stunted self.”

“You’re so dramatic. Basically we’re having a field trip to your tower, and I’m not allowed to go because the teacher doesn’t think I really have an “internship.” Which, to be fair I don’t but that’s on you and not me.”

“Nah na na. I offered you an internship, and you said I’d be bored.”

“It would be. Doing a project for your company under strict supervision of some person would be sucky. I mean I can do anything I want from the lab you built me.”

“I know, but remember technically you are my intern. Remember we did that whole personal intern bullshit for the school.”

“Oh right. Is that why you keep harassing me about submitting all my completed projects.”

“No, that’s all your mother. Something about not wanting a lawsuit over a fake internship.”

“Make sense. She tends to be a lot smarter than you.”

“Ah, I feel so attacked. The abuse I suffer.”

“You’re terrible.”

“I am internally crying, kid. Sobbing.”

“Shut up,” we laughed.

“Who’s home?”

“You saw Buck and Sam this morning. Nat and Steve came back from their mission this afternoon. Thor and Loki are back for dinner tonight.. Strange might be coming round, not sure though. Cliff and the family aren’t back for at least a couple weeks. Oh and Bruce is wholed up in his lab as usual.”

“Shit. Everyone staying till the end of the week.”

“Yeah, oh the field trip. You’re screwed. You should have not told me.”

“Ughhhhh!!!”

“I love your life Petey.”

Peter walked into the kitchen and saw Steve reading a newspaper.

“Uncle Steve! Your back!” he smiled, dropping his bag off near the sofa. Steve got up to give the smaller boy a hug.

“Yep. Mission completed.”

“Nice. Can you tell me about it?”

“Yeah, it was nothing too interesting. We just needed some more intel into a terrorist organization stationed in the US. Most of the mission was recon. The next steps are being taken in a couple weeks.”

“Good to know there’s an active terrorist organization out there,” Peter said lightly.

Steve just smiled, not quite understanding the modern humor.

“Where is everyone else?” he said, realizing the living room was not in it’s normal chaotic state that he’d come to love. The chaos was his favorite reminder that he had so many people. He liked having lots of people, even after all this time.

“Nat and Buck are training, they invited you to join if you want. Bruce is in his lab, and dont worry he slept and ate last night. Not sure about the rest.”

“Right, thanks. I think I’m going to go train.”

Before he knew it, it was Friday morning, and his school was coming to his home. He was going to try very hard to ignore them. To do so, he asked his mum to let him sit in on some meetings. He had an easy in to the R&D and mechanical side of the company via the other interns. He was actually planning on hanging out with some of the “other” interns later that day. They were always happy to let Pete in on their projects and let him give them a hand. But he was always interested in getting more detail about the business side of the company, and he liked to get a window into it. Pepper was always happy to show her son the ropes. I mean he was heir to the company after all, even if he didn’t know yet.

He asked his mum to only schedule meetings after 12 as he requested a sleep in. Pepper was always happy when Peter slept as he was a little too much like his father. So, he woke bright and early at 11:00 o’clock.

After a scroll through his phone and a quick shower, he was ready to pull on his far too expensive Brunellio’s custom suit. It was one of his favorites. His father had got it custom made when he was in Italy, and told him he simply could not resist getting one for the kid. Pepper just smiled.

He had a large breakfast (enhanced metabolism) and headed towards the 34th floor where his first meeting was located. He’d been shadowing his mum for almost a year now whenever it was convenient, so he had the rointine down. He was almost sure he could take over a few of her meetings.

“Hi honey,” Pepper said, giving the boy a quick kiss on the cheek on the way to her own chair beside him. Peter blushed before resuming his professional posture and facial expression.

“Good morning everyone, as you can see Peter will be joining us today. I want to talk about some of the services we provide for our employees and their feedback. I’m aware we have a large portion to talk about so Kendra please take it away on that front.”

The first meeting went smoothly as planned. It was a discussion on the progress of the internal services, aka the IT department. Peter hadn’t learned much about their IT department, so it was good to listen in to. Pre these meetings, he, of course, does research into the background stuff, so he’s not completely lost. Pepper’s assistant usually provides him with a packet of info about the Stark Industries side of things. He is also given a list of key words and concepts he might want to make sure he understands. The research is fun for him, it makes him feel all professional.

Usually he spoke during the meetings, asking a couple questions and suggesting some ideas, but for this one he just learned and took in. The next meeting, however, was very much so his field. He’d spoken a lot with advertising, becoming very interested in the data analysis behind it. He even took a stats class so he could keep up. In that one he asked questions Pepper was on the verge of asking twice. He also contributed to the analysis of data once. Pepper usually liked him to participate as it was good for him, but he always felt bad suggesting stuff to the senior adults. He usually spoke to his mum or dad about projects for the company, preferring that.

They hung back in the room of the second meeting.

“Good job in this one Pete. Took two questions right off my tongue.”

“Thanks ma,” he said, always appreciating some approval.

“That’s all I’ve got for you today, kid. Rest of the stuff is, ya know.”

“Course. Thanks for these two. It was good to learn about internal affairs a bit more. Have a gap of knowledge there.”

“Yeah. Was that the first time meeting our CIT?”

“I believe so.”

“Well, next time we have a broader IA meeting, I’ll pull you outta school,” Pepper suggested.

“Really? That’d be epic.”

“Course, hun. Jarvis, sort that out please.”

“Of course Mrs. Potts.”

“Thanks J,” Peter yelled.

“Anytime mini-boss. No need to disturb the entire floor.”

“Are AI supposed to be so snarky?”

“Dad programmed it, what else would it be?”

“Valid point.”

“Right, got to run. See you later.”

“Bye, love you mum!”

“Love you too, Pete.”

“Jarvis, could you send me the tour plan for the visiting tour today?”

“Absolutely, sir. They’re on your phone now.”

“Thanks J.”

Looking at the plans Peter smiled. He had successfully avoided them the entire day. It said they were supposed to head back to school at 2:30, and it was about to be three. Smile on his face, he trotted down to the lobby to grab a coffee before going to meet Loki at the arcade. Don’t judge them, it was their thing. Taking the private lift down, and then walking straight to the coffee stand and ordering.

“Mr. Parker!” he heard the angry voice of his teacher, “How dare you show up here aft-”

Shit. shit. Shit.

“Edith, call dad, and tell him it’s urgent in the lobby.”

“Of course Peter.”

“Peter, are you listening to me! You are going to face extreme consequences for this.”

“Your coffee,” the man said, not realizing it was Peter, level ten personal of the tower, that was being yelled at.

“Thanks.”

“How dare you get coffee! In this building! Security!”

Tony arrived spotting his son instantly.

“Kid this best be impor- I see.”

“Hey Mr. Stark,” Peter said weakly.

“Mr. Harrington is it? Please stop harassing my intern.”

“H-he, he is y-your intern?”

“Yes. My favorite. Please exit the building and never question him again. You will be hearing from me.”

Let’s just say, Monday was an interesting day. At least Flash backed off, he was definitely an intern at SI, and no one embarrassed him on the trip.

[jj-ktae]

·39·Attendance - Prompt Game -

Title : Attendance Pairing : Lim Jaebeom x Fem!Reader Genre : Fluff Words : 1393 Summary : You just want Jaebeom to take care of himself. Prompt N°39 : “You fool! You’ve walked right into my trap! It’s not even a very good trap!”

Attendance 

Jaebeom doesn’t know what rest is. He spends hours and hours in his studio, composing and writing until he feels satisfied enough to grant himself with a five-minute break that barely calms his stress. He walks around when he needs inspiration, eyes moving frantically in need of something, anything that could tear a word out of his brain.

When it does he runs back into the poorly lit room, his feet hitting the ground at full speed and distracting you from whatever you are doing.

You’ve learnt to deal with this side of your boyfriend.

You don’t mind; Jaebeom has always been the artistic type, the one who says only what is needed but has it all in his head. He finds beauty in what reflects the eyes and expresses it with what the lips can form. It is a process of fabrication that he cherishes and you are willing to follow his lead for the sake of his art.

But sometimes, just sometimes, you wish he would put it aside to enjoy the beauty of a relationship he tends to forget. It is obviously not on purpose for Jaebeom is the same old romantic, his words teasing and pupils shining when you appear before him. He works in cycles where he locks himself for a long period before emerging with or without the hint of a smile to fulfil his boyfriend duties.

You understand, you don’t want him to change who he is.

It has been a whole week, though. A week of whispers and dehydration. Jaebeom barely goes out and he has a whole album to work on but you cannot let him be. He must take care of himself above everything else even if it means fighting with his thick head.

“Jaebeom, you should take a break.” Only your head pops from behind the door. A tired boy is sitting, locks messed up.

“Later.”

It’s always the same answer, that annoying word which means he won’t be going out of this room any time soon.

You sigh, opening the door wider and sensing the change of mood as soon as he slowly pulls his headphones down.

“I’m about to eat, can you please join me?” You try again, a hand now on your hip.

He tilts his head slightly, looking frustrated but also annoyed. “I’ll join you later. I’m almost done.”

You know how it will end, the food will stay on the table until you go to sleep.

“Why can’t you disconnect for like...an hour?” You don’t need him to answer; you want him to realize he has to stop. “You have to take care of yourself!”

Jaebeom sighs, finally putting his pen down and leaning over his hand. “I am taking care of myself. I need concentration, that’s all.”

“And I need you from time to time, that’s all.” You finish, your tone going softer.

Annoyance leaves Jaebeom as soon as you speak. He nods and lets everything as it is on his office, like you spelled a cast on him and he can only do whatever you want.

He will never admit it is actually the case.

“I’m done for tonight.” He concludes. You smile and it feels like jackpot for Jaebeom so he gets up and walks toward you until he is at arm’s reach. His hand falls on your cheek, “Let’s eat. I deserve a break.”

Your body relaxes, his reaction enough to make you feel electricity going through your chest. “I deserve that break, too.” you joke, turning around to go to the kitchen.

Jaebeom feels guilty. He knows he shouldn’t turn into a hermit whenever he has a big project going on but he doesn’t seem to be able to work any other way. He finds the table set and so beautifully decorated it makes his heart ache.

You had prepared all of this and you probably did it in the past too. How many times did he reject your offers, how many times did you do your best and never complained because you take him seriously?

His stomach almost hurts. He hates feeling like the guy who is so selfish he doesn’t even notice everyone else’s effort.

So, before he can form a proper sentence, an apology leaves his mouth.

You arrange the second plate on the table, raising two surprising brows at how down he suddenly looks. Maybe he doesn’t want to take a break but did it to please you?

“I promise it’s only for tonight. I’m the one who is sorry for taking you away from work.” You hate how indecisive your emotions are. Anger is out the window when you notice how disturbed Jaebeom is; he probably is already thinking about what he should be composing, now.

Your boyfriend blinks, feeling even worse for hinting he might not want to be here. “No, no. I actually feel guilty. You’ve been preparing such a pretty dinner and I almost didn’t see it.”

He takes a seat and you follow, your chair now next to his.

“I am totally fine with being here, with you. I hate that you’re doing all this while I can only lock myself up in this room. You had every right to come and request a little bit of my time. You deserve all my time.” he confesses, his usual embarrassment nowhere to be found.

You hum, taken aback by such a confession but also content. “Are you okay? You don’t usually...speak like this.”

Jaebeom looks okay, but deep inside he is not. “I’m just realising things. Just you saying you need me and your face right now makes me realize how much of a crappy boyfriend I am.” He chuckles, eyes avoiding the table because he pictures you being all cute an eager to please him.

For a whole minute, Jaebeom thinks he doesn’t deserve to have you.

And you feel it, the hint of anxiety on his face. It’s like the one expression he wears whenever he is stuck on a project.

You grab his adorably-looking tiny hand and let the chair slide closer to his. “Don’t overthink it. I am in a happy relationship; we live comfortably without conflicts, we’re both busy people and we do love each other. You having to lock yourself into your studio is fine by me, I just want you to take care of yourself. Don’t think about all the times you didn’t come.”

“I just think about you preparing all this,” he looks up, licking his lips unconsciously when your sweet face appears before him. “about how beautiful you are,” he lifts his free arm and wraps it around your shoulder, “and about how my past self must have done a lot of good deeds for me to live this way without getting in trouble.”

He pulls you toward him when you snort and you let his hand go to hug him back. “You’re a perfect boyfriend, Jaebeom. You care about me and I feel it. You have nothing to worry about, I just wish you’d stop disappearing for a whole week.”

You yelp when he grabs you, making you fall on his lap. “I guess I will have to show you how...present, I can be.”

You shake your head, using your best pitiful expression. “I know, a dinner is nothing special...maybe I shouldn’t try so hard and just give you what you need…”

Jaebeom gasps, horrified by your comment and how it implies he left his studio for sex only. You land back on your chair in the blink of an eye before Jaebeom dives into his plate, stuffing his face and complimenting your cooking and you swear he is about to choke.

Your face turns so red from how hard you are trying not to laugh but you still end up giggling, confusing you boyfriend.

“You fool! You’ve walked right into my trap! It’s not even a very good trap!” You grab your own plate and follow, wriggling when Jaebeom tries to tickle you.

“You freaked me out!” He whines, his cheeks so full it is hard to fully understand him. “I was ready to write a whole essay on how way more important than sex you are.”

You feel proud. “I know, but you need to take care of yourself first. Now eat, we’ll check your…. attendance once you’re done.”

Jaebeom eats faster.

[freedom-in-the-dark]

James Flint Is Gay: A Meta Post

[slides into the Black Sails fandom late with Starbucks]

Hey! What’s up! Here’s a post no one asked for but I wrote mostly for me. Before we get into it, I’ve got some big notices to put on the top here.

DISCLAIMER: If you interpret James as bi, and you prefer that, I am not trying to say you can’t do that or to convince you otherwise! 

You do you! If you’re not cool with seeing him as gay, please do us both a favor and keep scrolling past this post! I’m mildly aware that this fandom has a history of rough discourse surrounding this topic, but I cannot emphasize enough that I am new here, and this post is not an attack. Please do me the courtesy of not attacking me or blocking me or whatnot because I’m not trying to start drama lol. And for what it’s worth, I myself am bi (well, bi ace), so I’d like to think I’m being objective.

This post exists simply because I like to write meta out with my arguments / evidence lined up in a row; it gets things out of my head and onto a screen, and I find it satisfying. And if I’m doing it anyway, I might as well share.

So if you see James as gay, or have an open mind to that interpretation… please allow me to take you on this adventure under the cut. I’m sure it’s obvious, but this contains spoilers? Lol.

Here we go!

Compulsory Heterosexuality vs “Bi Erasure”

Firstly… to address some stuff I’ve seen in my limited Black Sails fandom travels right out of the gate: I’ve seen people imply that interpreting James as gay is “bi erasure,” or they ask “Why are you erasing that James was attracted to Miranda and had an affair with her?”

But to that I say: it’s far more complicated than that.

Gay people can have sexual relationships with people of the opposite sex, especially until / or before they identify as gay. This is how so many gay people can be married to the opposite sex and have biological kids, and then later realize their truth and come out to themselves and their families. Having those experiences or even some variation of actionable attraction to people of other sexes in the past doesn’t negate their ability to later identify as gay, once they stop burying those parts of themselves and/or experience something that “brings that part of them into the light.”

This is why the phrase compulsory heterosexuality exists. The phrase was originally coined by Adrienne Rich in a 1980 essay titled “Compulsory Heterosexuality and the Lesbian Experience.” So yes, let me make this clear: this term originated in reference to lesbians and feminist theory, and then the idea was later expanded upon to include discussions of gay men by other academics in the early 2000s. I’m not gonna dive too deeply into it here, but in essence–as the name implies–this is the idea that patriarchal and heteronormative societies are viewed as the default, so individuals are assumed (by themselves and otherwise) to be heterosexual until “proven” otherwise. Through these standards that are seen as “normal,” people are also taught from a young age–whether explicitly or subconsciously through society–that anything that deviates from those ~straight norms~ leads to negative consequences. And so, society encourages people to avoid sexual exploration, because having experiences with someone of the same sex is what can often bring their gay identity into focus.

In the case of Black Sails, this is all very much emphasized at the forefront because it’s a historical drama. Aside from racism/slavery, patriarchy and heteronormativity are what the characters are actively going to war against.

So, the point in me defining all of this? No one—or at least, not me—is saying that James didn’t have a sexual relationship with Miranda. That’s not in question. But that doesn’t necessarily make him bi, and it doesn’t mean the narrative isn’t structured in various ways that indicate otherwise.

Just keep this in the back of your brain, because I’m going to circle back around to it.

Anne, Flint, & Gay Rage

In the wise words of an old pirate captain: “Fruit, fruit. Tits, tits.” This show thrives on parallels, and gives us lines / scenes that apply to more than one character; it’s partially why the themes are so consistent, and if you ignore that, you can miss a lot of the nuance. Our resident angry gay gingers are one of the paralleled sets of characters.

This is not a meta about Anne… but talking about parts of Anne’s story can help to highlight some things about James’ story.

I tweeted this once: “Flint and Anne’s sexualities paralleled to show struggles with compulsive heterosexuality, fighting for the sake of fighting, bringing parts of themselves into the light, wrestling with being told they’re monsters and their distorted senses of self, etc.” and really, now I’m just here to elaborate.

-----

The word “monster” is a recurring theme in this show. It’s tied mostly to Flint and how he is told he is monstrous for loving a man, fears being “the villain” or “monster” in everyone’s stories, and eventually embraces that monstrous portrayal in service of his goals–even as the violence is slowly devastating to him. But the other character the word “monster” is used in reference to? Anne.

A quote by Max:

“Idelle, how would you feel if the one man you thought would never betray you did? If he purchased for himself a future through that betrayal? If you were told by a world full of men that that betrayal confirmed for them that they were right to see you as a monster to be shunned? She's not mad. She is adrift.”

In some ways, this quote is also the story of what has happened to James in his life, over and over. (Not to say this is what Jack intended to do to Anne, but the parallels inherent in Max’s line itself cannot be denied.) 

James is repeatedly betrayed by those he trusts: Admiral Hennessey; Peter Ashe; Hal Gates. All of them try to get him to conform to heteronormative society–including Gates, because even if he didn’t know it, that’s what he was doing by trying to get James to take a pardon. That’s why James reacts with such instinctual panic and kills him; the idea of being forced to apologize to and assimilate back into heteronormative society puts him at a breaking point. (It can even be argued that Miranda “betrays” James in this way too by trying to get him to take a pardon and go to Boston–which is where his “and they called me a monster” speech comes in–and that also contributed to how James later panics and kills Gates for trying to force him to do the same. Miranda tried in a well-meaning way to get James to move on, because she isn’t fully understanding what James wrestles with; but I’ll go back to that.)

Again, these parallels are deliberate. Anne and Flint are the two main gay characters who wrestle with their supposed “monstrosity” in the eyes of everyone else, because they don’t fit in. They are “othered.” It’s not simply about their violence; for these characters, it’s about what their violence is in service of achieving, which is tied to their sexuality.

Anne is seen as a “monster” for slaughtering the men who abused Max, who is not only a fellow woman but also a fellow lesbian, in a way that Anne is undeniably drawn to even before she lets herself acknowledge the feeling. We as viewers are meant to see this and understand this, and we do. Anne is ostracized for violence that was motivated by her sexuality, which is partially why Max tells her that she understands her violence and will protect her–because Max is not only also a woman in a patriarchal society, but she is gay too.

Flint is seen as a “monster” first and foremost by England, for his sexuality… and then, later, by everyone else for the actions he takes because of his sexuality. Again: the violence he commits cannot be divorced from his sexuality because it is the reason for it. It’s what informs it.

I tweeted about this once too, but in many ways Anne and Flint’s kindred displays of brutality and anger and “fighting for the sake of fighting” (a quote by Miranda which applies to them both) are informed by their desire/need for gay tenderness. The world has too often denied them that tenderness and their expressions of their sexualities, or demonized them for wanting it, and their violence is the result. 

Here’s a quote from Deborah Tolman with regards to how compulsory heterosexuality affects men, which she calls “hegemonic masculinity”:

"These norms demand that men deny most emotions, save for anger; be hard at all times and in all ways; engage in objectification of women and sex itself; and participate in the continuum of violence against women."

The anger and hardness is a huge part of the personas both Flint and Anne have to put on for survival. I include Anne in this because she uniquely lives her life in a “male” role to survive the male-dominated world of piracy, and she’s clearly not immune from these unspoken masculine guidelines: she refers to Max as “the whore” half the time as a defense mechanism. Flint and Anne lash out, they’re hard and angry and violent for the sake of their personas, and it’s all because... inside, they just want to be soft and gay with who they love.

Anne, Flint, & Compulsory Heterosexuality (Not Bi Erasure)

In Black Sails, we are shown the story of a gay person who has a consistent sexual relationship with someone of the opposite sex, but is running from internal truths about themselves in some ways in the process. That person is Anne.

Struggling with compulsory heterosexuality is explicitly Anne Bonny’s prime storyline in the show and that is not up for debate (and I’ve rarely seen people disagree); but I argue that it is also part of James’ storyline, and he is paralleled significantly with Anne to make that clear. It’s just overall more subtle because it’s not the prime focus of James’ story the way it is for Anne, because James’ realizations happened largely in the past and we’re seeing the aftermath of it. The parallels are there, and I’ll be breaking some of them down.

----

From episode one, we are told that Anne has a sexual relationship with Jack…. But later on, she tells Jack that she “can’t be [his] wife,” even though they’ll be partners forever. Why? What changed? The answer is that she’s been with Max and realized that she’s gay. It doesn’t mean Anne didn’t have sex with a man in the past and even enjoy it on some level, but it does mean that she knows now that she was using that sex partially to distract from things about herself that she was doing her best to ignore.

Multiple lines by Max (to Anne) tell us this:

3x03: “When you and I began you did not choose me. Something that lives inside you beyond choice made it so.”

2x01: “But perhaps there is something else underlying it. Something hiding in a place not even you can see. Perhaps… we would do well to bring it into the light.”

Before I continue, let me remind you of something: when writers decide to show viewers something on screen, that is done with intent, especially in a show like Black Sails where not a single moment is wasted. Remember this. What they show us, and what they don’t show us, are both deliberate choices.

So what are we shown about Anne’s sexual relationship with Jack? We get exactly one scene of her having sex with him. We are shown Anne riding Jack in a way where neither party was particularly enthused. Does this mean they definitely never had sex in the past that they both enjoyed on some level? No. But they showed us this one scene on purpose: to emphasize the stark difference when Anne has enjoyable sex with Max, an experience that forever changes her.

So what are we shown about James’ sexual relationship with Miranda? We get exactly one scene of him having sex with her. It is the most depressing sex scene of all time, James is just lying there to try to be helpful for her to chase her own pleasure, and he doesn’t even touch her. Does this mean they never had sex in the past that they both enjoyed, especially back during their affair in London? No. But we are never shown any of that. We never see them have sex in London before James’ relationship with Thomas; we never see them having good sex with each other after it all goes to hell. And that is a deliberate choice.

Why? Because all of the above info about Anne and her compulsory heterosexuality journey also applies to James McGraw, and his relationships with Miranda and Thomas.

“They paint the world full of shadows... and then tell their children to stay close to the light. Their light. Their reasons, their judgments. Because in the darkness, there be dragons. But it isn't true. We can prove that it isn't true. In the dark, there is discovery, there is possibility, there is freedom in the dark once someone has illuminated it.”

The realizations James came to about his sexuality (just like Anne did) inform much of his tangled story with the Hamiltons, and much of the tragedy of Miranda and James’ situation after the loss of Thomas. We are shown the way James and Miranda are no longer perfectly aligned after that loss, and grief is undeniably a part of it… but it goes beyond that. It’s more complicated than that. 

That sad sex scene is not solely about grief; remember, that scene takes place ten years after they lose Thomas. It takes place during a time where Miranda is already thinking about and will soon actively try to tell James that they need to move on, without understanding why the loss of Thomas affects him in a profoundly different way than it affects her. I am not minimizing her loss or her grief whatsoever; but it is undeniably more complicated for James, and it’s why he can’t move on.

In episode 1x07:

James: “Have you no memory of how we got here? What they took from us?”

Miranda: “What does it matter now? What does it matter? What does it matter what happened then if we have no life now?”

James is, of course, appalled by this. I’ll talk about why momentarily.

The next time James is in Nassau (2x03), he goes to see Miranda and tries to apologize that night, but she’s otherwise engaged. So he stands outside of her window looking in, surrounded by darkness, while she’s playing the clavichord with children in the light. It is symbolically the domestic version of a heterosexual ideal. He is “othered” by the camera angles / framing, and the dark / light aspects. James is relegated to being an outsider literally because as Flint he’s a pirate, but metaphorically because he’s gay; the reason we as viewers are given that scene is to underscore that he feels he has no place in that display.

Ultimately, James is misaligned with Miranda after the loss of Thomas (shown in both the sad sex scene and arguments) in a way that goes beyond grief. The implication is that things cannot ever be the same for him again since the loss of “his truest love” and the truths he learned about himself.

If James and Miranda were simply at odds with one another because of grief, it would be far less of a “tragedy” in some ways. But James cannot heal the way Miranda slowly finds the way to over ten years, because Thomas signifies things for James that Miranda cannot relate to. In London, when Thomas is taken from them, Miranda even yells to James, “He is my husband!” Her grief and rage are shown as equal to James at the start and have extreme validity; the two of them are partners in the plan to kill Alfred Hamilton for revenge; but then she is able to somewhat move on, whereas James is not.

Why? Because, for James, Thomas was not just his (truest) love; Thomas was the awakening of his fullest self as a gay man.

In the same way that Anne can’t be Jack’s “wife” after she’s been with Max and realizes she’s gay, James cannot content himself with fulfilling the role of Miranda’s “husband” after he’s been with Thomas and realizes he’s gay. Neither of these facts minimize Anne’s love and devotion to Jack, or James’ love and devotion to Miranda; they are undeniably two sets of partners. But Anne and James are forever altered by their experiences with same sex lovers, and the truths about themselves that were brought into the light as a result.

----

Another part of the tragedy of James and Miranda is what happens right when we see Miranda grasp the significance of all of the above. Whether or not she grasped it before in the past, we are shown it only once on screen, and that’s in Charlestown. 

Peter Ashe says this in 2x09:

“You will tell them about the affair with Thomas. You will tell them how it ended. You will explain to them what it drove you to do. You will reveal everything. And when you do, Captain Flint will be unmasked, the monster slain. And in his place will stand before all the world a flawed man, a man that England can relate to and offer its forgiveness.”

This is James’ worst nightmare; we know as such from what he told Miranda back in 1x07, and from when he killed Gates. And yet, here and now in 2x09, he is exhausted from pushing back against heteronormative society, all he wants is to retire the mantle of Flint born of gay rage, and he actually contemplates playing by their rules and giving into their judgements of his sexuality... until Miranda comes to his defense.

In season 1, Miranda didn’t seem to fully understand James’ thoughts on this, but here–in combination with her realizations about Peter Ashe’s betrayals–she finally does. And she’s not having it.

“What forgiveness are you entitled to while you stand back in the shadows pushing James out in front of the world to be laid bear for the sake of the truth? Tell me, sir, when does the truth about your sins come to light?”

And the moment she is yelling in rage on behalf of James, and their combined loss, and how Peter would dare to force James to experience shame about his sexuality again–she is instantly shot for it. A woman who’s yelling on behalf of a gay man? In a patriarchal heteronormative society? It has no place. England makes that clear.

It all further underlines James’ sense of “otherness”... and now he decides to embrace it, even at his own emotional detriment. He will no longer try to fit in or reason with them; he will no longer accept their halfway measures of pardons. He can’t, because in the eyes of England, all that he is as a gay man is abhorrent.

2x10: “Everyone is a monster to someone. Since you are so convinced that I am yours, I will be it.”

3x05, to the Maroon Queen: “...England takes whatever, whenever, however it wants. Lives. Loves. Labor. Spirits. Homes. It has taken them from me. I imagine that it has taken it from you.”

The Way James Views Miranda

And here is where I simply give you more food for thought–or further “evidence” of James being gay, if you will.

All of Flint’s lines about how he views Miranda are worded very, very deliberately.

Here’s a minor one, from 1x05:

“So you can probably guess it isn't as much fun to tell stories about how your captain makes a home with a nice Puritan woman who shares his love of books.”

There is nothing overtly romantic or sexual about this. It’s said in a one-on-one conversation with Billy, where Flint neither has to make the relationship sound like something it isn’t nor refuse to give any info whatsoever. So he goes with what is the seemingly-mild truth.

But 3x01, convincing the men to forego pardons:

“But what price surrender? To beg forgiveness from a thing that took my woman from me? My friend?”

“My woman” is what Flint says for the benefit of the men… these men who are part of the heteronormative world they all live in, and still value sexual relationships with women above all else. It’s about hegemonic masculinity, remember? (“Objectification of women and sex itself.”) He’s doing his best to speak their language. 

But “my friend” is a secondary line that was not needed for the purposes of this speech, but James could not keep himself from adding it in a quieter tone–because that’s who Miranda was to him. His friend. Not his woman, which drips sexism and sexual undertones. Not his wife. Not even his “love,” which he could’ve used if he wanted to be ambiguous and sneak a Thomas reference in; he said “my woman” to appeal to the men, and then he added “my friend” because in the face of her memory he couldn’t help it.

And lastly, in 3x03, we begin to hear from “ghost Miranda.” 

But what is ghost Miranda? She’s a voice from James’ traumatized mind. Everything she says to him is about truths he already knows and/or things he is hiding from himself. So what “she” says here is a voice from James’ mind; it’s about how James sees her, and subtly elaborates on his sexuality in the process.

“When I first met you, you were so... Unformed. And then I spoke and bade you cast aside your shame, and Captain Flint was born into the world... the part of you that always existed yet never were you willing to allow into the light of day. I was mistress to you when you needed love. I was wife to you when you needed understanding. But first and before all... I was mother. I have known you like no other. So I love you like no other. I will guide you through it, but at its end is where you must leave me. At its end is where you will find the peace that eludes you, and at its end lies the answer you refuse to see.”

This does not diminish Miranda’s importance to James in the least! In fact, it emphasizes it, and it is all part of why he is so ruined over her! But it is also, in the oddest way, an elaboration upon how he isn’t bi: Miranda was his partner in many things, including shared grief and revenge and some semblance of life for ten long years; and she was also was instrumental to his formation of himself as a person (“mother”), and his acceptance of himself as a gay man (“love” and “understanding”). This is how he sees her. Mistress and wife were roles she filled in his life, but above all, she contributed to the birth of Captain Flint–the personification of James’ gay rage.

Of course, the “answer” that ghost Miranda (the depths of James’ brain) alludes to here as well as her later words of “you are not alone” are all about James needing to recognize that Silver is a newfound partner and love for him… but that’s a whole other meta entirely.

Closing Thoughts

Look, did I consult a couple of specific scenes and look up transcripts to put quotes in this? Yes. But have I still only seen the show in its entirety once? Also yes. My point in mentioning this is that, if I did a full rewatch, there might even be more evidence I haven’t mentioned here. This isn’t meant to be comprehensive, but I do feel that it... certainly conveys the gist of the mood.

You may still agree to disagree if you prefer to see James Flint as bi; I’m not here to fight you on it and what queer characters mean to you personally. 

But for me, when surveying all available evidence, the narrative screams that he’s gay. In that sense, my thoughts on this matter are similar to my thoughts on the ending; sure, you can interpret it one way if you look at certain details, but if you take in all the evidence and the big picture as a whole… there’s a specific conclusion to be drawn.

Last thing I’ll say is this: Steinberg himself has said that Flint is gay, which I found out way after watching the show and forming this interpretation. And like... not that if I wanted to hardcore argue he was bi I wouldn’t disregard Steinberg’s words, because in my experience the narrative speaking for itself is always more important than than creators’ words, but... in this instance (as in all Black Sails instances I’ve come across), his words just underscore what the well-crafted narrative is already telling us, because the creators wrote this show with intent. They knew what they were doing.

And thus, I will quote him (from these GIFs) below.

“When we were trying to build the story, we wanted whatever this thing was that made [Flint] feel alienated to be so deeply tied into who he was that there was no way he was every going to dismiss this thing that happened to him. We wanted to make sure we understood what the reality was in England in terms of how homosexuality was perceived. In some ways it was more tolerated, in some ways it was significantly less tolerated. I think in terms of Flint being gay, it’s about the fact that it is a tool that is used politically when convenient to make somebody be a monster… and it isn’t even really about the relationship.”

(If you buy the series on iTunes, you get an “inside” look at every episode, including this one from 2x05.)

EDIT: I had no idea Toby Stephens basically confirmed my thoughts that James' relationship with Thomas was his actualization as a gay man, so excuse me as I lose my mind for a moment:

“I think his relationship to Thomas Hamilton, the initial friendship and then becoming lovers is sort of like the realization of himself. I think he became himself with Thomas Hamilton. His potential was unleashed with Hamilton.”

And just for fun, since I’m here anyway, here’s a piece of a Steinberg quote about Anne from the Fathoms Deep podcast.

“In terms of Rackham and Bonny, I think that was another thing that I assumed for a long time could never go away. That they were essentially, you know, that they were married. You know not legally, but they were functionally married. And then this story happened in Season 2 with Bonny, that I think with like with a gun to my head of things that I’m proud of with the show, probably at the top is this story of this woman coming out and understanding that she’s gay. . . And so when we got to a point where it was like, I think she’s gay? Like I don’t think this is something we want to be wishy-washy about. It required getting over that hump with Rackham of, ‘Well like what am I going to do with this relationship? I don’t want to split them up?’ And I think it became something way more interesting.”

Thanks for coming to my TED talk. I love James Flint and his gay rage, I love you if you read all of this, and I love my friend @sunbardy who dealt with me yelling about this in DMs and then proofread the doc.

Hit me up on Twitter @gaypiracy if you want, where I do most of my Black Sails related yelling. And shitposting. Because I contain multitudes.

Know No Shame, my friends.

[elmo-is-a-forgotten-god]

TW:// mentions of death, brief family dynamics mention, losing a friend

For context this happened late last night and I’ve been trying to get as many details as possible here.

Don’t feel obligated to read this. I know it’s long.

I recently had a friend unfriend me and I wanted to vent about that a little bit. This is really long, only read it if you really want to I just really need to talk about it somewhere else.

I am also sharing this stuff so you all understand me a bit better as a person. Because it is even more challenging for me online and I don’t want to lose any more friends, especially online friends because I can’t talk to you all in person.

——————————————————————————

They have been known to do this to other people and everyone who it has happened to has still remained on the shit list. They screamed at me for over an hour on the phone because I was “a shit friend these past couple weeks or so.” They cited specific days where I didn’t answer them until later in the day and one specific day where they were stressed with school and wanted me to be there so they could vent and I could help them.

I tried explaining to them what was going on but I just ended up crying (I don’t normally cry a lot if that give you any idea how bad it was) and I didn’t get the words out. Mainly for a reason I’ll explain later but also because they sounded just like my dad when he yells and I just sorta shut down.

——————————————————————————

Now they blocked and deleted my number and blocked me on all social media. (Our mutual friends told me.). They apparently told most of our friends what a piece of shit I am and a couple other people blocked me. They wrote a whole fucking essay about it but here’s the sparknotes:

-I go through periods of time where I am not a fun person to talk to, and they like me a lot better when I don’t have an “attitude”.

They specifically cited last year from late summer to winter, you’ll see why this is important.

-last year and this year I’ve “ghosted” people around the holiday season when I know it is rough for some people.

I try to check up on my friends when I know they are going through some shit, I try to send them useful stuff as well, everyone know that.

-I am too overly blunt and honest and not good at helping people with their issues.

I know I’m too blunt and honest , and you know what? I fuck up sometimes, but I usually don’t mean anything by it I’m just trying to help. As for helping people with their issues, if I wasn’t good at it why the fuck did they come to me in the first place.

-I have a perfect life, nothing bad ever happens to me and I’m nothing but a privileged asshole who doesn’t deserve to have a friend like them. I don’t know what it’s like to go through something difficult.

I’m not going to comment on this, I know I’m privileged, but I try to do good things with it.

-I pay way too much attention to my self and I am a “self centered piece of shit for not answering their messages that one day and for not being as fast with my responses as I normally am.”

You’ll see why this was a fucked up thing to say to me in a bit, I’m just writing this out very slowly and trying to avoid that part.

-I talk about myself too much when people come to me with advice, and people “shouldn’t come to me with advice or have to take that bullshit” because I am “undeserving of being in the loop about someone’s personal issues.”

This came up because one of our friends came to me with an issue instead of them. I know I often relate things back to me I didn’t think that was a bad thing because no one told me and that is just how I help myself understand what someone is going through, but I’ll stop doing that.

-Saying things like “I need to remove myself from this area.” Is extremely disrespectful to the rest of our friend group (I literally only go by myself it doesn’t affect them). For context my adhd is extremely severe to the point it’s considered to be a learning disability, what they are referencing is when I leave to go somewhere else because I am overwhelmed and overstimulated. They literally said and I quote “that shit is total fucking bull and you know it, I have adhd too, and I’m saying you’re fucking faking.”

First off they don’t have a formal medical diagnosis, just a suspicion, they haven’t even talked to their doctor about it. Not to mention everyone is different based off of severity and which symptoms are actually present. As part of my testing we opted for the comprehensive test to look at the severity of my adhd before moving on to being treated. In that test they observed me over the course of several hours to see how I reacted to different things. The things that were expected to be the worst symptoms for me were :

difficulty understanding and relating to others (one of my strategies I was told would help is to relate others experiences to mine)

difficulty in communication; reading directly off of my sheet and I quote “Emma was observed having a difficult time using nuance and understanding when was and was not the correct time to say something. Emma’s parents describe her as: extremely blunt to the point where it can be abrasive.”

sensory: specifically when things are too quiet, I also have an issue with overly bright lighting, and when I am very overwhelmed there is only a few people who I will let touch me when I’m “wigging out”

——————————————————————————

I know I am privileged, but I really try to use that privilege to do good things and I didn’t know that I act uptight or like a dick in that way. If I do it’s either a joke or not intentional and I apologize.

That being said, just because I am privileged doesn’t mean my life is perfect and it doesn’t mean bad things don’t happen to me, it’s beyond fucked up to think that.

(The color for things related to this)

——————————————————————————

A lot of the things they talked about are things they know I am insecure about to begin with and they know I am working on it. Most of them are literal symptoms of my adhd and things I struggle with on the fucking daily. I’m making them a different color so you can see what I’m talking about. Here’s the adhd related color.

——————————————————————————

Now. Some of the other things they listed were in direct relation to my grandma passing away. If you know me, you know my grandma and I were very close and she in a way was like a lot like a parent to me. She had cancer and dementia and her health started a major decline in August of 2019, I spent a lot of time with her during this time and I was constantly stressed and worried about her. I didn’t really talk a lot about it because it’s hard for me to think about but I know this friend knew about this for a goddamn fact.

This relates to this because the period of time when I had “attitude” and “wasn’t a fun person to be around” was when we found out she would have 3 months if she was lucky, I spent every day with her during this time. Yeah I think watching someone slowly die and forget who you are is reason enough to be a bit not talkitive or please not.

My grandma died on December 4th 2019. The main reason my friend snapped was because I wasn’t their to help them with their stress on December 4th 2020. (They had screenshots). They yelled at me for over an hour because of the reasons of above and mainly, MAINLY, because I didn’t text them back fast on the anniversary of my grandmas death. I WAS AT THE FUCKING CEMETARY ASSHOLE DONT YELL AT ME FOR NOT RESPONDING RIGHT AWAY.

(This is the color for things related to this)

——————————————————————————

I’m sorry this was really long but I’m just having a rough day. I thought I could trust this person and I thought we were ok, I just wish that someone would tell everyone this, but the people that blocked me also blocked my best friends.

If you have a problem with my behavior in any way, please talk to me before something like this happens. And please know that if I seem overly blunt or like I’m trying to steal the spotlight, just know that I don’t mean to and it doesn’t come from a place of malice. I don’t want to lose any more friends.

I know I fuck up, but there is reason behind it, but unfriending someone who you’ve been friends with for 7 years because they didn’t text you back from the cemetary is fucked up, I’m pretty sure anyone can see that much.

High school drama is fucking bullshit, I hate it here.

[wreckofawriter]

Revenge

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Word Count: 2,545

Request: Hi love, can I get 82 and 78 with Fred Weasley? I love your writing btw 💕💕💕

78: "This is illegal isnt it?"

82: "I will face god as I walk backward into hell."

Summary: After her boyfriend cheats on her Fred and George help reader get revenge

A/n: I am so sorry this is so late. My summer has been shit, my bestfriend started dating the guy I have liked for over a year, and my other friend is pissed at me rn sooo yeah life is great. Anyway, sorry again and I'll try to catch up on some writing. Hope u guys enjoy!

You woke up to a blinding light turning your eyelids from a dark peaceful space to a bloody red one. You groaned opening them slowly and painfully squinting against the sunlight filtering through the large windows in the common room. 

Groaning in confusion you began to gain your senses back, along with memories from the night before. You remembered winning the quidditch game by barely a second then the raging party afterwards, and the number of shots you had taken quickly and painlessly to celebrate your win. 

And now you were tangled in limbs with someone on a couch not daring to move because of the pounding in your head that felt like someone was hitting it with a hammer every other second.

Finally the sting slowed to a dull throb and you sat up trying to ignore the intensifying pain once again rising in your head. You looked around to find your legs wrapped around your best friend's. Your head had been in the crook of his arm and you had to push his other arm off your shoulder. 

You slid your legs off of Fred and stood up causing the red headed boy to stir but not wake. You then began to take in your soundings. 

The floor was littered with red plastic cups and garbage. There was red and gold confetti everywhere and red streamers across the balcony above. 

You sighed and headed up to your dorm pressing in on your temples. You quickly got changed at went down to the common room. You and Cormac were supposed to meet up for breakfast -you had agreed to do so before the match- but now he was probably passed out and hungover. 

You sighed and decided to go check. If he was asleep you would just wake up Fred to go with you. 

You headed up the stairs your headache fading away thanks to the healing potion you had downed upstairs.

You pushed open the door and was met with two pairs of eyes. One was the hazel of your boyfriend and the others were the deep brown of Katie Bell. 

You stumbled backwards at the sight in front of you. Your eyes became blurry with tears. Why was Katie here? Why was she half naked? And why was SHE ON TOP OF YOUR BOYFRIEND?!

"You asshole!" You spat out tears streaming down your cheeks. 

Cormac pushed Katie off of him and started towards you. 

"Shit y/n, I-I didn't mean for you to see that." 

"No shit." You gritted out fury and sadness budding inside you.

He tried to step towards you but you took a step back, "Y/n I-"

"Eight months," you scoffed the comfort you had seen in his eyes gone. "Eight fucking months!"

He flinched at your words as if each one was a slap to the face. 

"You threw away eight months to fuck a slut like Katie Bell?!" You screeched not caring that you had just woken a dozen hungover teenagers.

"Hey!" Katie yelled clearly offended. 

You turned to her with fury in your eyes that made her cower, "You don't get to speak."  You hissed. Katie shut her lips tight and retreated into the corner.

"Don't take this out on her." Cormac said.

"You're defending her!" Your words were sharp and haunted. 

"Your one to talk of being a slut when your sleeping with Weasley!" 

You let out a sour laugh, "Who? Fred?" 

"Yeah Fred, you're all over him!" 

"You know what McLaggen?" You scoffed. "I should have been with Fred."

"Yeah, you think you should have been with him?!" Cormac yelled taking a step toward you, "Then go! Go fuck Weasley!"

You looked up at him tears leaving shimmering trails down your cheeks. Your eyes filled with a dark fire, "Go fuck yourself McLaggen." You seethed before turning on your heels and darting down the stairs. 

You were met with 11 pairs of eyes each showed emotions ranging from anger to pity. The latter more common than the former. 

"Shows over." You murmured angrily. 

Most eyes darted away from you and you scoffed before walking towards the portrait hole. You were stopped by a hand catching g your wrist. 

It was Fred, he tried to pull you into a hug while murmuring comforting words but you pulled away angrily. You left tears dripping from your chin as your crimson robes billowed behind you.

It had been a week. A week of the glances and the whispers. A week of the pitying looks and pointed fingers. A week of anger and sadness.

Fred watched you suffer for a week and he was done. He couldn't stand watching you fall apart over a boy who you should've been with in the first place. He tried to comfort you but his attempts failed each time. So he decided you needed the next best thing. 

Revenge.

Fred and George had a special talent when it came to revenge. So when they found you drunk and alone on the dock to the Black Lake, they decided to take action.

It took the twins two days to come up with the perfect prank. They wanted something that would humiliate him to no end but not physically hurt him. 

Well, George to remind Fred of the last part more often than not when the older twin came up with ideas that could seriously injure their target. 

Finally they struck gold on a plan. 

You sat in the library trying to focus on your potions essay instead of the group of fourth years that were giggling behind their hands pointing at you every so often. You finally snapped whipping around to face the group. 

"You point at me one more time and I will cut that finger off." You threatened your voice low and menacing. 

The younger students flashed red, eyes widened before mumbling an apology and quickly exiting the library. 

"Well you scared the shit out of them." George laughed taking a seat next to you and snatching the quill from your hand. 

You sighed, "What do you what Weasley?"  

"This is about what you want, what you need." Fred stated sliding on your other side and throwing his arm around your shoulders. 

"What's that?" You grumbled visibly annoyed. 

"Revenge." Both twins voiced at the same time smirks taking over their pink lips. 

And for the first time in weeks you felt a smile across your lips, "Alright, what are we talking?" 

You stood in front of the portrait entrance watching as the twins set up the trip wire. 

You giggled, "This is illegal isn't it?" 

"Nah," Fred smiled back at you he had missed the sound of your laughter. 

"It does break about 30 different school rules though." George shrugged. 

"Good." You grinned flashing your white teeth. "That means it's going to be brilliant."

"That also means we need a getaway plan." Fred pointed out, sighing and backing away from his masterpiece. 

"We could make a run for the closet in the charms room." You suggested. 

"Good idea but all three of us won't fit." George explained. 

"Okay, we'll go there and you make a run for the astronomy tower." Fred offered smirking at his astounded brother. 

"What! Why do you get to go to the easy spot?" Goerge asked visibly annoyed. 

"Because I called it." Fred replied, clearly proud of himself.

"The only reason you want to hide in a closet with y/n is because-" George was cut by a particularly cold glare from his twin.

"Because what?" You asked looking back and forth from the boys. 

"Nothing." Goerge grumbled rolling his eyes.

You mimicked his actions and sighed, you weren't going to get an answer out of the two any time soon. 

"Ok so y/n your going to lead him out then we will let the magic happen. " Fred grind.

"This better work." You mumbled. 

"It'll work." George asherrd you. 

"Hey McLaggen, I want to talk to you." When those words left your mouth everyone in the common room snapped their attention to you, as usual they had nothing else to do but wait around like vaulters for something interesting to happen.

Cormac smirked looking up at you, "Alright sweetheart."

You almost slapped him, you managed to take a deep breath and force a smile on your face as you walked towards the exit with him. 

Just before you exited the portrait hole you looked straight up at him and punched him square in the jaw. Your fist connected with his face and he stumbled backwards clutching the spot where he had just been hit. 

Gasps were heard from behind you as some people stood up to get a better view of the scene unfolding in front of them.

"You bitch!" He shrieked, " Your gonna rot in Hell. Rot!" 

You sprinted away from him as he started after you. You were sure to step over the tripwire as you darted out of the way. 

You turned just as he tripped over the thin wire sprawling to the ground. 

"I will face god as I walk backward into hell!"  You yelled at him flipping him off as you walked backwards. 

You watched with a satisfied smile as the boy who had caused you so much pain was dumped in black ink. 

The second the rotten smelling ink covered him George cast a Bedazzling hex and seconds afterwards Fred cast a bat bogey hex and an Antler jinx. 

You burst into laughter watching as the boy stumbled around blindly covered in vomit scented ink growing antlers as his own mucus grew wings and attacked his face. 

"Come on y/n!" Fred yelled snatching your hand and darting towards the East wing. 

The two of you burst into the Charms classroom and darted for the closet. Fred shoved you inside before following and slamming the door behind him. 

You were still laughing the hilarious image of your ex-boyfriend dancing in your mind. 

Fred was smiling too, how could he not be happy when the sound of your laughter filled his ears? 

The two of you stood in the dark closet chests brushing for 4 minutes before your laughter died out, well was more cut off.

Fred heard voices and promptly slapped his hand over your mouth. Your laughter had still been to loud and as much as you tried to stop it you couldn't. So you did the next best thing. You buried your head deep into Fred's chest to muffle the sound. 

Fred had never been more thankful for the dark. He swore he was on fire when you had nuzzled into his sweatshirt, wrapping your arms around him. 

When you laughter finally did die you just stood there buried deep into his chest, hugging him tightly as you breathed in his sweet scent. 

"Thank you." You mumbled, voice barely audible.

"For what?" Fred asked face still hot. 

"For everything." You murmured, tried to snuggled deeper into Fred's soft sweatshirt. "You've done so much for me." 

"Y/n I would do anything for you." The red headed boy whispered wrapping his arms around you and burying his head into your y/h/c hair inhaling its signature floral scent. The scent he would recognize anywhere. "I love you y/n." 

The words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them. His eyes went wide as you pulled away from him in shock. 

You felt your breath speed up, "What!?" You cried attempting to back up only to hit a shelf directly behind you. 

Fred felt like his whole world just came crashing down on him. He stumbled over his words trying to recover only to realize there was no going back. 

"You love me?" You asked eyes wide, eyebrows knitted together as confusions etched itself onto your face. 

Fred sighed looking helplessly down at his hands. He finally looked back up at you and exhaled loudly. "Yes." 

You stumbled falling against the wall coving your face with your hands. This was too much too soon. Your boyfriend cheats on you and your best friend says he loves you all in one week. This was way too much. 

"Look y/n I'm really sorry to spring this on you but it's about time I tell you I've loved you for 4 years." Fred declared. 

"FOUR YEARS?" You gasped mouth dropping open, eyed the size of golf balls as you ran your hand through your hair. 

"Yeah but it's all your fault." Fred snapped suddenly feeling angry at the girl for putting him through years of unrequited love.

"My fault!?" You yelled anger conquering your features. 

"Yeah!" Fred scoffed, "Your the one who had to be all pretty and smart. It's not my fault your perfect! Your the one who made me fall in love with you!" 

"What could I have possibly done to make you fall in love with me?!"

Fred's mouth now dropped, "Are you kidding?" He scoffed. 

"Do I look like I'm kidding?!" You asked impatiently. 

"What made me fall in love with you? Well let's see, how about the fact that you stand up for yourself no matter what, or the fact that you are smarter than the rest of the kids in our year combined. Or maybe that you make the best jokes and you are clever and witty in the best possible way. Or the fact that you are so stupidly beautiful I can't even look at you without imagining what it would be like to run my hands over your-!" 

His ranting was cut off when your reached up and grabbed his tie, roughly slamming your lips onto his.

His eyes widened in surprise before shutting slowly as he leaned into the kiss. 

One of your hands found their way to the back of his neck while your other ran through his fiery red hair, tugging lightly making him moan. When his lips parted you slipped your tongue inside them tasting butterbeer and chocolate, rich and sweet. 

His hands found your waist and pulled you close for a second until you pulled away. 

The two of you stood in the dark panting for a few seconds before Fred spoke. 

"Why did you do that?" He gasped eyes wide from surprise. 

"I don't know!" You yelled, "I just really wanted to kiss you all of the sudden!" 

"Well it was good." Fred replied 

"Yeah it was." You breathed out. 

Another few seconds of silence past. 

"Can I do it again?" Fred asked hope inlayed into each word.

"Yeah." You nodded before your lips were connected.

The ginger pushed you against the wall kissing you desperately, his tongue running over your lips before you opened them, pulling him impossibly closer to you by the neck. He started to unbutton  your shirt when you were unfortunately interrupted. 

Light flooded the closet and you both turned to see a disgusted twin. 

"I'm proud of you Fred, but stop before I puke." George grimaced. 

"Sorry." You mumbled pulling away from the boy and straightening your shirt. 

George began to walk away mumbling "The coast is clear." 

Fred brushed past you to follow him but before he could pass you grabbed his hand turning him towards you. 

"Hey Fred?" You asked 

"Yeah?"

"I think I love you too."

Masterlist

[gukyi]

Hello~! This is going to be a long ask, so I hope you don't mind me vomiting words everywhere and sending multiple asks because while I’m still so shy to come off Anon, I still want to take time to voice the appreciation and gratitude you deserve.

I'm not even a fan of BTS, but I avidly read your fics because 1) as a reader, your fics draws up a whole imaginative universe that I can fall into and watch the love buds between your characters, all while falling in love with the way it slowly blossoms.

While I am not well-versed enough in BTS to know much about the BTS member Taehyung, nor do I imagine myself in the “you” position, but the “Taehyung” and this “you” character that are the two souls finding their way through an arranged marriage, or the best friends slowly finding each other after all of his failed relationships, are an absolute joy to watch.

but also 2) as someone who loves to write (I wouldn’t call myself a writer yet, just that I like writing), I feel like I am learning a lot from the way you choose to express your writings. Instead of directly telling me how Tae or Kook felt, you allowed me to see what they felt through their actions and that extra millisecond they hold their gazes, and it’s because you write so beautifully that I am able to empathize with your characters and feel with them.

I feel like you’re the epitome of the “show, don’t tell” advice haha. I’m still polishing my writing and practicing, and while I know my voice will be different for yours, I just wanted to say that your fic helps to teach and inspire me. Apologies for the word vomit, also apologies if you’re cringing (because this sounds like fan love letter haha), but I just would like to take time to thank you for allowing to seek reprieve in and learn from your fics. Have a nice day~!

wow i honestly want to burn these messages on the insides of my eyelids so i can look at them every time i close my eyes and get that sweet, sweet ego boost. this is one of the most heartwarming messages i have ever received, and i’m so honored that you think of me so highly!!! seriously, you don’t even stan bts and you’re still reading my 30k love letters to them anyway?!?!?!? that’s honestly mindblowing. the craft of writing is something i have been working on for as long as i remember, and every day i write i learn something new, improve my skills, and try to write something better than the last. but to know that what i am doing right now is inspiring the way that you write is the whole reason i’m even doing this. to make others happy, and to grow with everyone else as writers. you are a writer. anyone who writes is. whether it be informative essays, court arguments, or creative fiction, you are a writer. take pride in it. and i am so honored that my fics can be one of your guidelines!

[afictionaladventure16]

I love your writing! Can I request a fic where the reader is Bruce’s teen daughter who is like a mini version of him, that he didn’t know about and he’s scared to be a father so he pushes her away and she thinks that he hates her and so Tony talks to Bruce to convince him that he won’t hurt her and then Bruce and his daughter talk and become really close. Thank you!

I’m A Man of Three Fears (Bruce Banner x Daughter!Reader)

Bruce Banner Masterlist

Avengers Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of being ignored by a parent. 

Word Count: 2,035

A/N: Sorry this took so long! Hope you enjoy the fic! 

It had only been a month since you’ve met your father. The man that you had assumed was dead was very much alive. He’s the only family you had left, and it’s as if he was trying his best to avoid you. 

You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. You were sure that he must have been in shock after finding out that he had a daughter that he didn’t know of, so, you gave it a day.

One day turned into two days. 

Then three.

Then a week. 

And then a month. 

A month. A whole month and your father just acted like you weren’t there, like you didn’t exist. Of course, everyone else acknowledged you, treated you as if you were part of the Avengers family, but the one person you really wanted to get close with, avoided you like the plague. 

“Ah, well if it isn’t little Banner.” You turned around to see Tony walking towards you. “Just for reference, who let you in the lab?” 

“Myself,” you mumbled as you continued to read some of your dad's work. 

Tony hummed in response. He glanced towards the papers you were reading. “Those are some of your dad's essays.” You nod. “What do you think about your old man?” 

You shrugged. “The only thing I know about him is what I read from these essays and papers he’s written, so, I think he’s an amazing physicist.” 

Tony gave you a small nod. He hated to see someone that he considered to be his best friend, treat their child like they didn’t exist. He knew what it felt like to be that child. 

“Although,” you grabbed one of the papers in front of you, “his equations are a bit sloppy.” 

Tony chuckled at your comment; he looked over the paper and agreed with you. “Good eye,” he commented. He grabbed a pencil and tried to hand it to you. You gave him a confused expression.

“Well?” he questioned, still holding out the pencil. 

“Well, what?” He couldn’t honestly want you to fix your father's equations, could he? That would just be crossing a boundary, but something inside you was dying to fix those equations. Maybe then your father would have some sort of emotion towards you. Maybe he’ll even acknowledge your presence. 

“Fix the equations.” Tony laid the pencil on the table. “You’re just as smart as he is. You really are a mini version of him.” 

You sighed, grabbing the pencil and placing the paper back onto the table. You concentrated on the equations in front of you while Tony worked on Peter’s suit. You could see so much emotion in your father's equations with the way they were written. You almost didn’t want to ruin it, so you placed your notes in the margins, careful not to mess up any of his work. Once you were done, you turned to look over at Tony. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Hit me.” 

“I want you to be honest with me.” 

“You’re talking to one of the most honest men here.” 

“Pretty sure Steve beats you at that, but I’ll let it slide,” you commented, causing an eye roll from Tony. “Does my dad… does he hate me?” 

“What? No! Why would you ask such a thing?” 

“Come on, Tony, how can’t I?” You jumped off the stool you were sitting on. “The man avoids me like I have some sort of infectious disease.” 

“Y/N, you have to understand-” 

“Understand what? That he doesn’t want to be a father?” You felt tears form in your eyes. “He’s the only family I have left and it fucking hurts that he just… that he just treats me like I’m not even here.” Tony pulled you into a hug, placing a kiss on top of your head as you let out a soft sob. You felt so hurt by your father; it was something that everyone saw, but no one mentioned. Tony knew that this couldn’t go on any longer. Something had to be done. 

“I know how you feel, kid,” Tony began to say. He let out a sigh, “Look, I can’t promise anything, but I’ll talk to him, Y/N.” 

“Thank you,” you said softly as you embraced Tony once more. 

“Why don’t you go and do your homework; I know you’re smart and all, but you have to have some homework to do.” You chuckled, giving him a small nod. “Don’t forget that dinner is free for all tonight,” Tony called out as you walked out of the lab. 

Hours later, Tony was still in the lab working on some upgrades for Peter’s suit, but his mind kept wandering to the situation with Bruce and Y/N. He wanted to help his best friend out because Bruce was unknowingly hurting his daughter every day he didn’t speak to her. 

“Not surprised that you're here.” Tony turned around to see Bruce walking towards him. Bruce fixed his lab coat as he approached the table. “Was kind of hoping to have the lab to myself today,” Bruce mumbled. 

Tony raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner before brushing it off. “I need to finish these upgrades on Peters's suit which won’t take long and then I’ll be out of your hair,” he stated. 

Bruce just gave Tony a nod before grabbing his papers that he had left on the table. “I glanced at your equations,” Tony began to say. “They’re a bit sloppy.” 

“What?” 

“Y/N actually caught the mistakes… she’s a bright girl, like her dad.” Bruce remained silent and glanced at the papers that he was holding. The writings in the margins. Your writings. Bruce felt like it was the closest he’s ever been to you. So close, yet so far away. “You know, pushing her away isn’t going to make the fact that she’s your kid just disappear; it’s only going to hurt her more, and frankly, I think she’s been through enough.” 

Bruce continued to read your notes. The smiley faces you drew at the end of your sentences. The arrows directing him to where you think the equation should be fixed. He noticed it was all in a way to not step on his boundaries, but if you only knew that he loved this. His heart was full of glee to see how much you took after him.  It was all out of good-nature, something that he felt wasn’t him. He wondered where you got all of this from: the kind heart and patience. 

“She has been through enough,” Bruce finally spoke up. “She doesn’t need me.” 

“You’re wrong.” Tony watched as Bruce laid the papers back onto the table, his eyes never leaving them. “She needs her dad. Why won’t you give her that?”

"This kid just shows up out of nowhere and claims to be my biological child, and I'm just this guy that goes big and green every time I feel anxious or angry and having a kid is just a big ball of that. So, tell me, Tony, what the hell am I supposed to do?” 

Tony shrugs, “Step up.” He sighs, “It’s the only thing to do.” 

“It’s not that easy.” 

“It is; dammit, Bruce.” Bruce looked up at Tony. “There’s a girl in this compound that wonders why her father hates her, why he’s pushing her away, and she comes to this lab in hopes to find anything that she can just to feel close to him! You have the chance to make things right before it’s too late! Trust me. I wish I had the same chance as Y/N did,” Tony scolded. 

He never was one to yell at Bruce but this time was different. Someone had to tell Bruce what he was doing was wrong and who better than the person who has been in Y/N’s shoes. 

Bruce pondered it for a second, he had forgotten the strained relationship between Tony and his father. He had seen how much hurt it has caused Tony. Bruce slowly gave Tony a nod, “You’re right.” 

“Of course I’m right,” Tony smirked. “Now, go talk to your daughter.” 

Bruce took his lab coat off, placing it on the table. “Tony?” Tony hummed in response. “Thank you.” 

Bruce made his way over to the elevator, “Friday, can you please tell me where Y/N is?” 

“Ms. Y/N is currently in her room.” 

Bruce made it to your floor, which was the same floor as his and instantly feeling even more guilty for the hurt he’s caused you. He gently knocked on the door. “Come in,” the sound of your voice just made Bruce feel nervous and guilty. Swallowing his pride, he walked in the room quickly spotting you sitting at your desk, head buried in your books. 

“Y/N?” Bruce watched as you quickly turned around to face him, a surprised expression written all over your face. You blinked a couple of times, making sure you weren’t seeing things. “Can we talk?” 

“Uh-s-sure,” you stuttered. Bruce made his way over to your bed to sit down. He looked around your decorated room.

“Y/C/C?” He said as he pointed towards the small banner that hung on the wall. “Is that one of the universities you want to go to?”

“Um, it’s actually my dream university.” 

Bruce nods. “I’ve seen your notes; I think that you can get in with no trouble,” he mused. 

You felt your cheeks go warm with embarrassment at the thought of him seeing your notes. Is that the reason why he wanted to talk? To say how horrible your notes were? “You said you wanted to talk?” 

Bruce cleared his throat. “I-uh…” He let out a heavy sigh. “Look, Y/N, I am sorry for ignoring you. I really am, and I’m going to do everything within my power to prove to you that I can be an amazing dad to you.” 

You nod. “Thank you for apologizing but that still doesn’t clear anything like why did you do it?” 

“Because I’m afraid.” You got up from your seat and sat down on the bed next to your dad.

“Afraid of me?” 

He shook his head. “No, more like being afraid of the big guy. Of what I am capable of… I’m afraid that one day the big guy is going to hurt you. I was also just so scared of ruining your life. I’ve never been one to bond with children.” 

“Well, lucky for you, I’m a teenager.” 

Bruce chuckled. “I’m sorry, Y/N. This is gonna be a learning process for both of us, but I’m not going to ignore you anymore. I know I’ve caused you a lot of pain already, but from here on out, it’s going to be different.” 

You felt tears begin to form, and you wrapped your arms around your dad. Bruce smiled and wrapped his arms around you. You both stayed in that position for a few minutes before you let go. “So, you saw my notes?” 

Bruce’s smile grew. “I did! I have to say, I think you’re smarter than I am. I can’t believe I missed those little mistakes.” 

“You think I can join you in the lab one day?” 

“Of course! As a matter of fact, I was in the process of kicking Tony out of the lab before I came over here.” You joined your dad back in the lab, and Tony smiled as he saw you both walk in through the door. 

“Well, if it isn’t mini Bruce and regular-size Bruce,” Tony commented. 

Bruce rolled his eyes, “Are you done with those upgrades yet? I want to spend some time in the lab with my daughter.” 

Tony smiled. “Yeah, I’m done.” Tony knew he wasn’t even close to being finished with the upgrades, but he did know that the upgrades could wait. You and Bruce needed to spend some long-awaited quality time, and as much as Tony wanted to stay and watch, he quickly left the room to give you both some space. All that matters to Tony was that he didn’t have to see you go through the same thing he had. 

Permanent Taglist: @unapologeticallymimi   @glitterquadricorn @lady-of-lies  @cassmoreiraxo @just4muggles @mellorine-paprika  @agirlruinedbybands @yougottalovefandoms @avngrsinitiative @lizlil @otomefan @dejaazaro @culturebay @kpopishilarious @fireproof-heaven @iloveyouthreethousand-o6  @weappreciatepower @whereyoustand  @white-wolf-buckaroo @spider-woman22 @coffee-habit @supernaturallover2002 @barnes-parker @therealmrshale @myinternetissoslow @myhippiehopes @celyndavies @xzowiex @ximaginx @wooshytooshy @ellaorelizabeth @rororo06  @chloe-geoghegan1 @hdthdthdt @sophie-barnes26 @thamuddagirl @scarletmeii @ssebstann @fangirl31415 @thepeggyann @lauren-novak @reerrrrskillz

Bruce Banner Taglist (OPEN): 

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Avengers Taglist (OPEN): @firstangeldragonranch 

[phantastictragedy]

Brighter Than The Stars

I impulsively wrote this so it’s not very good.

Pairing: Intrulogical (Main) there’s like some Moxiety and Roceit but only if you squint and it’s only implied.

Uhhhhh basically soulmate AU where when you meet ur soulmate u see the world in color but until then u see in black and white. Also like human AU. ALSO Remus is a painter/artist and logan is a broke college student tyvm

Logan did not mind that he couldn’t see the color in the world, it did not affect the way he lived his life from day to day. As long as he could get his work done and pull all-nighters studying for tests in black and white then that was really all that mattered to him. Of course, he could not deny that he wasn’t sometimes bothered seeing his friends around him bragging about how ‘this color would fit nice’ or ‘oh isn’t this just so pretty??’ Yeah, sure, maybe he’d wonder about how the world looked and how the stars may look with a different colored background behind them-- but he didn’t let it be a thing that distracted him from his studies. 

Chewing on the eraser of the pencil he had in his hand, and keeping his other hand holding his head annoyed, he stared at his first draft of an essay that was nowhere near being done. “How can I possibly write 20 pages for this?” He mumbled under his breath frustratedly. 

“Talking to yourself, again?” A hand was placed on Logan’s shoulder for a brief second before it was off and his taller friend Virgil was standing in front of him. He had his backpack on and a large cup of coffee in his hand, so Logan knew he had either woken up late or was about to finish some work he had procrastinated on. 

Logan glanced up at the boy who stood above him and shot him a slightly annoyed look on his face at the comment, “Huh-- doesn’t coffee make your anxiety worst?” Then he went back to writing a random sentence that he had thought of, not really necessary to his essay, but it would probably take some space away from the page. 

“Alright, alright I see now that you aren’t in the mood to joke around, but listen. Remember that time I went to that party alone because you agreed to go it and wanted to bring me, but then canceled last second and I couldn’t escape it and then YOU said that you were sorry and would make it up to me one day when I needed it?” Virgil said suspiciously, he ended it off with a smile in hopes Logan would not go back on his word. 

“Ah, yes. How could I forget when it is something you always bring up when you need something?” Logan sighed and placed his pencil down on the paper that was making him feel like he was losing his mind. “Go on, what is it you want me to do?”

Virgil rolled his eyes at the comment and let out a sigh, “Okay, Roman’s brother is having a little art gallery. We are all going, to support him. His art is super good-- he’s a little weird and loud and uh-- offensive. But-- Hey, don’t look away from me, Logan! Listen-- okay we know it’s hard for an independent artist to make it and we just want as many people to support him and be there if the night goes wrong. So, please go with us??” 

Logan groaned but pursed his lips and thought for a second. At least the favor wasn’t like the usual ones where it was just because of Virgil’s laziness, or his inability to communicate. This was a nice thing, and it seemed like a pretty easy task-- of course, he’d have to push some studies aside. “Alright, just give me a location and a time.” 

“Awesome! I’ll text you everything. Now I’ll let you get back to torturing yourself with trying to figure out how you’ll fill these empty pages.” Virgil grinned and nudged Logan before walking off. 

----

Logan was running a bit late, not super, unacceptable late; but a late that he would be embarrassed about. Despite his more fancy outfit of a black turtle neck with a dark blue suit jacket and matching pants (of course, the color isn’t something that actually mattered to him considering he couldn’t see it)-- his messy, dark brown hair was doing its own thing and was evidence of his lack of time to get dressed. Being late was the worst.

For how Virgil had spoken about the event, he had expected it to be empty-- but it was actually decently full. Logan pushed some messy strands of hair away from his face before he looked around to find his familiar group, which didn’t take to long when he heard...

“Nerd! Come over here, you were supposed to be the first one, aren’t you the responsible one?” Logan groaned and shot his head towards where an overly fancy-dressed Roman stood with all of his friends.

Logan made his way to the small group before speaking, “My apologies, I got a bit carried away with my studies. I hope I did not miss too much.” 

“Oh, don’t mind Roman, he’s just mad he wanted to be casually late, but ended up being the first,” Dee said shooting Logan a grin. 

Roman pursed his lips and let out a groan, “Ugh- you don’t have to tell everyone that I was first! It really is not that important, sure I wanted to show up and make a fancy entrance, sure I wanted everyone to shout my name, but I think we should take note of how much of a supportive brother I am.” 

“Ah, I’m sure that was your whole intention from the start, being supportive.” Before Roman could interrupt Logan’s sarcastic comment he went on, “So, where is the Artist anyways? I’d love to put a face to the artwork.” Logan said looking around to see the paintings hanging neatly on the wall-- well to say neat was generous. They were actually scattered, but somehow it had made them all the more appealing-- it was nice to look at everything. 

“Pftt-- he’s talking to that big crowd over there, if you want to meet him it seems like you’re going to be waiting for a while,” Virgil said before going back to his phone. 

“Or you could go back in time and arrive first, then you for sure would have met Remus.” Roman grinned at the nerdy boy. 

Logan rolled his eyes annoyed. 

“As I said, don’t pay attention to him. His pride is hurt right no-”

“I am a supportive brother, Dee!” Roman said placing a hand over Dee’s mouth, just noting from the taller boys’ eyes, it was noticeable that he was smiling. 

Most of the people had left seeing as though the art gallery was ending. Patton and Virgil were sat outside so Virgil could have some time away from people and Dee and Roman had gone to get the group some food. Logan was still staring at the paintings on the wall, most of them had been sold, according to Roman. That really surprised nobody after seeing the paintings. 

There was one thing that was on Logan’s mind and that was wondering how the paintings must look with color. He wondered if he’d missed any details, or if the meaning would change, maybe this paint depicted fear to him but was actually happy. He sighed, eyes glued on the painting. 

“You know? I think that one is sold, but I could always make you another one.” A voice he didn’t recognize said. He assumed it was from Remus. 

Still, Logan’s eyes barely moved from the painting, “I was just making sure I didn’t miss a detail. Although if you had any art that didn’t get sold, I’d be happy to  buy that.” 

A soft chuckle escaped his lips before he sighed contently, “I’m Remus.” 

The sound that escaped Remus’ lips made Logan’s heart do twirls in his chest, he’d never felt that before, he especially had never felt the weird tickling sensation in his stomach. “I’m Logan.” He eventually turned to look at Remus and smiled. 

Nobody ever tells you how it happens. It’s truly hard to explain and it’s said it happens differently to everyone. Some will say it happens in a snap and it’s like walking in on a surprise party just for you. Some say it very slowly starts, from the center of your view to the end. Some people say that they don’t even remember how or when it happened and they shock themselves when they realize it happens-- of course it takes a couple of seconds. 

For Logan-- the taller man standing before him was the only thing in color, he was pale, was not dressed super casual-- like black shirt sweatpants casual, and had his hair put up into a small messy bun, bangs holding a gray color. Then slowly after the world began to gain a tint, and then it’s full color. He stood in shock for a couple of seconds, staring at Remus completely confused and waiting for a just as confused reaction from him. 

“You alright?” Remus said slightly tilting his head. 

“I-- are you-- not seeing this too?” Logan said 100% losing his proper composure. 

“Yeah-- I see you look like you’re about to be sick at my art gallery. I hope you had nothing gross to eat because it will be a bad time for all of us. Not me though, don’t worry I don’t judge, be as gross as you want to be here.” Remus spoke so casually that Logan was sure he was losing his mind. 

“You-- you’re my soulmate.” Was all he managed to get out, as he ran his fingers through his messy hair.

“I’m your wha--” Remus squinted his eyes for a couple of seconds before the widened and he looked at Logan, “Oh my gosh-- wait a minute-” The taller boy whispered, he looked over at his paintings, not half bad. “God-- I hope that is the real color of blood.” 

The comment caused a small laugh to escape Logan’s lips. “You’re not what I imagined.” 

“Is that good?” Remus asked subtly moving a bit closer to the shorter boy. 

Logan thought for a second, he looked at Remus and examined his beautiful green eyes, they were so vibrant and held admiration in them. Never did he think that someone would be staring at him the way he was being stared at now..it made him feel-- warm.  

“Yes.” 

--

After a week of spending time with Remus, his soulmate, he had found that it was true what Virgil had said. He was, in fact, a little weird, definitely offensive, and for sure loud. Logan loved it. It was nice to have someone pull him away from his studies and have fun with him-- while also in some way keeping him from worrying about them. 

Today was no exception, Logan was sat at his desk when he heard knocking on his window and then the loud and quick sliding of it opened only to reveal Remus in all his glory. He truly looked like the cutest robber to Logan, with his black ripped jeans and green shirt that somehow perfectly matched his eyes-- Remus fully hopped in and fixed his hat that seemed to have fallen and completely covered his eyes, when his vision returned he was met to find his soulmate smiling up at him. 

“Oh, Hello! Hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Remus smiling widely. 

“You know, you’re allowed to use the door. There is nothing stopping you from using the door.” Logan said letting out a content sigh. 

“Oh what’s next, you’d like me to do pee in the bathroom?” 

“Yeah- I’ve been meaning to talk to you about th-” 

“ANYWAYS-- we should get going. I want to show you already!” Remus said leaning down and scooping his boyfriend up, adding in an extra swirl. 

Logan let out a semi loud noise of surprise, that was a new thing. “Wait-- I don’t know if I can tonight, Remus. We were out all yesterday and I--” 

“Hey.” Remus said calmly looking into his soulmates pretty blue eyes, he swore they looked like the night sky. “You’re going to be okay, you’re super smart and I think you deserve such a long break after constantly breaking your spine to do work. Please, tonight, come with me.” 

Logan knew from the second Remus came into sight through that window, he would leave with him. It was just a skill the taller boy had gained in the last week. “Fine, but can we please use the door.” 

The walk to the small park near where Logan lived was full of random questions that Remus would ask whenever he saw something around him. Logan, of course, would answer leaving his soulmate to making big impressed noises. The shorter boy was just glad he had agreed to this, the sky held a gorgeous color that he had never really thought he’d ever see, everything was so much more beautiful. By the time they had gotten there, it was dark. 

His thoughts and observations were interrupted when once again he was grabbed, but this time it felt like the arms had let go and he was falling-- which didn’t last long because then Remus grabbed the nerd before he fell and gently laid him against the soft blanket on the floor. “I set this up just for you. I know we haven’t gotten to stargaze and this is what you were looking most forward to doing now that you can see color.” 

Before Logan could say something, Remus threw himself next to Logan and wrapped his arm around the nerd, softly pressing his lips against the boy’s cheek and jawline, “You don’t have to thank me, I just want to make you happy.”

Logan turned his face and stared into his soulmate’s eyes, it had felt like time had completely stopped, suddenly looking at the stars wasn’t the most exciting thing. It’s hard to tell if they leaned in at the same time, or maybe it was Logan. One thing is for sure that they both had managed end up in the same place, with their lips gently pressed against each other. It was something that Remus had wanted ever since they’d met, but something Logan insisted they wait on. Suddenly, he wished he hadn’t, he’d wish he’d just did this first. 

Remus was, surprisingly, first to pull away, “Does this mean-- that I can start calling you my boyfriend?” 

Logan smiled, “Does this mean that’s what you’re asking me to be?” 

“If the answer is yes.” 

“Yes.” 

Silence had fallen over them as they both looked up at the start, fingers intertwined. The stars shined against them and it had truly felt like a spotlight hitting them, allowing them to know that this was real and this was perfect. 

The stars were a lot more stunning than he had thought they’d be in front of the dark blue sky, but he’d realized there was something so much better that he didn’t need to wait for night to see. 

His world.

[velvetv0nblack]

An open letter;

(Possible trigger warning)

I’m not even sure why I’m writing this, maybe because this theme of abuse has be something I’ve been experiencing as a third party, the person removing the victim this time, you know the role many of my friends filled within our tumultuous relationship... maybe it’s because my friends abuser is now threatening and harassing me for helpingher leave... maybe it’s because I’ve finally found my therapeutic dosage of lithium, am in a clear mind and are therefore able to reflect properly for the first time in my life... or maybe it’s because this is not an apology, I mean maybe it is if you had only been a serial cheat, but the truth is you fractured my skull and cut me open with a knife, so this is not a fucking apology. Also I’d rather rip my own eyes out of my skull, smash them with a hammer, and then inject the liquid into my ass than actually engage you in any kind of conversation, so knowing that this is the one platform you can still check for me on, I’m going to post this here... Its about time I had my say without putting myself in physical danger.

You would think I wouldn’t have an essay to correct your 3 lines of a nothing apology, but here we are I guess.

This kind of self deprecating “I wasn’t good enough for you” narrative is truly infuriating, and not because you were actually good enough for me but because of the very reasons you proved yourself not be “not good enough”. You weren’t undeserving of me because you didn’t work, I am physically incapable of doing so myself and I didn’t fall in love with you because you came across mad motivated. You weren’t undeserving of me because you took drugs, drank like a fish or smoked like a chimney, we were both purposefully killing our selves in the same way. You weren’t undeserving of me at all, until you fucked my best friend in the bathroom and collectively gaslit me into wondering if I was imagining the whole thing, and slowly but systematically broke down my confidence and support network away from me. I want this to be very clear; the reason you do not deserve me or any other decent human being is because, you are an abuser, you abuse people.

I was barely a whole person when I met you. I was barely an adult. I had lived through so much already, and had been abused in every area of my existence. I was easy pickings to you. The issue was you were not a pawn to me, a player in any game, or any of that. To me you were this fascinating, beautiful soul, to me you were someone who needed my love who needed someone to support you and I couldn’t believe that you chose me to fill that role. I was freshly 18 that month, and I had just had a flat mate steal £3k and kill my kitten.

I weighed all of 63lbs that night you lost the plot on me because I didn’t want to go to Big Red to watch that actual cunt of a waitress smile at me as she gave you lap dances, it’s not even a dance joint it was a fucking bar. You allowed other people to emotionally abuse me with you for months up until this point and I just didn’t want to go, all I wanted was the keys and I would of gone home alone and gone to bed. Why you feel the need to publicly humiliate me again instead of just leaving it? You couldn’t just go be adulterous without me watching and hurting, so you followed me home, screaming at me the whole time. You told me I was pathetic, you hated me, I should just kill myself- on a bus on a Saturday night, from the bar I worked in, in soho, back to our place near Caledonian Road. I was so unstable anyway, undiagnosed autism, misdiagnosed mental health issues, on the wrong if any medication, deep within the throws of an addiction and eating disorder... you. I couldn’t take you verbally ripping my heart out anymore when I decided that throwing myself from our 3rd story window would hurt less. The fact I could of died isn’t what made you grab me and stop me jumping, no in fact you told me you don’t care if I kill my self as long as it’s not in the flat, you were much more concerned with the amount of drugs in the flat and the prison opposite our window. At that point you threw me full pelt across the other side of the room, all 63lbs of me flew through the air like a paper aeroplane and smashed directly into your guitar. You know your beloved custom Les Paul? The headstock came off, and at that very moment despite the fact you were the one who threw me, my life was the one in danger. You started strangling me and threatening to have men come down to London to gang rape my then 14 year old sister. It gets a little fuzzy, that’s what your brain does when you experience potentially life ending trauma. I do know I ended up with stitches in my lips and hands, that you fractured my right eye socket- that I still suffer issues with to this day- and had black bruising covering my entire body like a bus had hit me.

For a couple of years there my brain completely blocked out important details of that night, and a lot of our relationship. Don’t worry though periodically I have the real type of flashback where I relive these events and I come back to reality remembering more than I ever wanted to. I’m yet to even touch on the fact that whilst I may of been able to escape you in waking life, my dreams are perpetually stuck in this horrific PTSD dream land, a town that is a mash up of all the places I’ve been traumatised in my life, the place you eternally reside inside my head to traumatise me whilst I desperately need to rest. You haven’t really left my life despite the efforts I have made to avoid you (I think I’ve seen you once, from a distance once at Download 2 years ago, my heart fell out my ass, and I dragged Camilla in another direction) I have only 2 dreams in 6 years that haven’t included you chasing me down to finish what you started and kill me or keep me captive. But that’s what trauma does, and oh how you traumatised me.

I really loved you though, that’s why I stayed, and those couple times I tried to leave before I came back. I loved you so unconditionally that it took me realising that everyone else around us was so complicit that they’d help you hide by body. To this very day I cannot believe a man, a male roommate, walked in on you pinning me into a sofa by my neck, with both your planted knees on top of my chest, full weight suffocating me, biting the end of my nose until it was blackened and he had the audacity me I needed to calm down. I have to label the guy the world biggest pussy in my head so I don’t get wound up about it.

I wasn’t perfect, I can never be perfect, I have more imperfections than most. I am severely mentally and physically unwell- I sure as hell am a pain in the ass to love- however I cannot actually think of a damn thing I did to deserve constant unending emotional abuse, threatens and follow through of physical abuse and then after I left stalking and harassment. I am difficult but I am not deserving of abuse and that’s all you gave me in the end... unless of course you “needed your baby girl to suck your dick” - that was the only time you were ever nice to me, and I know because I recently read back a bunch of our texts and you flipped between “I hate you, I’m gonna kill you/kill your self” to “I need my beautiful girl to come and suck my dick I love you so much” is actually fucking insane. - Should I bring up the fact you would bang pathetic girls on the scene and then dicknotise them into stalking and harassing me with you? Because... what I had the audacity to leave a man, of over 6ft tall, who would become violent to my 5ft 63lbs self?

So yeah, you didn’t deserve me, but not because of any self deprecating attention seeking reason but because you’re a sociopath, who seems to take pleasure in fucking with vulnerable women.

Am I happy? Now that’s a fucking difficult one to answer.

I ended up homeless on and off for a year. Despite the homelessness I had suffered before this was worse because of the place I was in mentally.

You caused me to develop complex PTSD.

You caused me to have a 3 year long psychotic break.

You caused me to live in secure supported housing, where I was prayed upon by other residents.

You caused me to fall victim to abuse within the system

Not sure if you know this but our mental health services sucks ass, after leaving you I had a delightful therapist that would text me telling to kill my self and would tell me you were right to abuse me.

But I got one thing from our relationship, I fine tuned my “four Fs” ...I no longer freeze or fight in the face of difficulty... I developed an ability to fawn.

Dead ends are no longer in my eyeline, I will metaphorically straight on walk through someone else’s house to get where I need to be, I will jump the fence, break the locks and out run any guard dog. I may fall down but I’m never out.

When I was diagnosed with multiple chronic illnesses and essentially lived in hospital for 3 years, even when I thought to end my life it was weighed out by the thought of “how do I get to a place we’re I can do even 5% of what I want? What do I have to change, manifest?”.

You see if you could only temporarily break me but not stop me then why the hell would I let my own mind and body do that? That ability to fawn came with an ability to find a middle path, to be diplomatic. That ability to fawn gave me the patience to understand medical text and use that to access the right care. ~ I am actually thinking of starting a medical degree just to prove I can ~ I am now 98lbs and healthy for my size and stature, I now have a home with a housing association who like me so much they have me a lifetime partner agreement, meaning I will never be homeless again. I have been clean 7 whole goddamn years and 2 months. I have the most beautiful empathic cat, 2 foster dogs and an incredibly patient partner, who has known me before you had ever entered my life. I am as healthy as someone in my position can be, I still struggle with the anorexic thoughts but I eat everyday of the fucking week now.

I am not “happy” as happy is an emotion and emotions are fleeting but I am content in living for the simple life I have fought ever so hard for. I am strong, and determined and constantly fucking working on making more for myself. I’m proud of myself.

All I have to say is get therapy. If you’re really sorry work on yourself enough to be able to apologise properly before you fuck my day up by rising your head again for this weakness. I can’t say I don’t have morbid curiosity, because that’s me all over, however I’m much more determined to keep all that I have work for mentally, emotionally, and physically safe. For that reason I would never in my right medicated mind talk it out with you, email you back or seek you out. I’m sorry, it is what it is.

You can not damage someone irreparably both mentally and physically and think “I’m sorry for being a cunt” even close to cuts it. You are mentally unbalanced, in a way not even I can relate to.

[dishwater-blondie]

Why I drink that sweet, sweet Fuck Emilie Juice and you should too

I woke up this morning and immediately wrote this whole-ass essay. At this point, I’m sure y’all are sick of me grasping for evidence that Emilie is gonna be a villain when and if she comes back. I apologize. 

But also, if you haven’t already, read To Stand Among Ruins by Windcage, because my conversation with her about this show (which slowly evolved into us writing full essays back and forth to each other) is where all of this speculation originated from. 

Anyway, here’s what I manically wrote earlier today: 

I present my speculation so confidently sometimes that even I forgot it’s just that - speculation. But evil!Emilie is the one thing that I am convinced about. I’ll don my wig and clown nose if I must when the time comes. I don’t understand wanting/expecting Emilie to be without considerable agency and without a major objective. Here is a woman we know next to nothing about. Of her, we have seen nothing but a motionless body, the beginning of a film where she didn’t speak, and countless depictions of her ranging from family photos to idols. This creates tension that won’t be satisfied by the revelation that she was exactly how everyone expected her to be. 

Emilie will be a thousand times more interesting if she is intelligent, ambitious, and the driving force of this miraculous agenda. We already know Gabriel didn’t activate the butterfly until after her disappearance, so unless they were both using the peacock, which I highly doubt, Gabriel was definitely less involved in their goal than Emilie. If Gabriel is the sole “evil” spouse, then either Emilie remains asleep and the audience accepts this use of the fridging trope and determines she had no control (which is boring), or she comes back somehow and attempts to usurp power from her tyrannical husband - a struggle we won’t have time to care for because we haven’t gotten to know Emilie, because we have only ever seen this relationship through Gabriel’s eyes. It’s a relationship framed as his struggle to overcome.

In fact, one can argue that she already has agency on a thematic level despite being hidden away in the coffin. Gabriel is totally responsible for his own choices, but beneath the surface, Emilie permeates everything he does, even the things that have nothing to do with Hawkmoth (his fashion designs on his screen bear a striking resemblance to his wife). She’s not at fault for his decision to terrorize the city, but his unhealthy dependence didn’t spring out of nowhere, and it is not a coincidence that it is her portrait, her eyes that loom over his shoulder in nearly every shot of this man. Gabriel is imprisoned in the past, and though the door is open, Emilie is the cold, dark cell that seems so warm and inviting because it has become comfortable. He’s to blame, yes, but I think it would be naive not to consider that there’s not more to this story that we are deliberately not exploring, three seasons deep. 

Also, as much as Emilie made Adrien happy, the audience is not made to root for her return so he can find happiness in her once more. The show makes it evident that a reunion with his mother is not what Adrien wants. He wants to be with Ladybug. He wants to go out into the world and make friends. He wants his father to be happy. This he expresses in Felix, when on the anniversary of Emilie’s disappearance, he doesn’t lament to Gabriel, “I wish mom was here”, or even, “I miss her.” He says, “If Nathalie can make you happy again, then she’s already part of the family.”

If Emilie is coming back, she’s not here to stay. Adrien knows exactly what Gabriel has to learn, that it’s okay to move on, and that moving on will ultimately make him happier. The narrative doesn’t exist to disappoint Adrien. 

And everyone has said it already, but Emilie certainly is just as much to blame for Adrien’s isolation as Gabriel. And I know this because Gabriel is disobeyed more often than he is listened to. Adrien, Nathalie, and the bodyguard have all deliberately defied Gabriel’s orders. At least on Adrien’s end, we can’t believe this was a regular occurrence when Emilie was around because he only started sneaking out after she left. Perhaps he had other ways of rebelling when he was younger, but we haven’t been made aware of these, aside for him and his cousin pretending to be the other, but that’s less rebellion and more joking around. 

Personally, I refuse to believe that the primary reason for Gabriel’s looser grip on the house is that it’s simply less convenient for him to be a tyrant. That’s a weak writing choice. It’s in every way more interesting if Gabriel is a man trying to maintain power over something that was never in his power to begin with, because it was always in Emilie’s. It’s in every way more interesting that Emilie - the mystery character, the idolized woman -  is not just an object for Gabriel to obsess over, but the authoritative and ambitious force at the heart of this plot.

Not to mention, the most recent webisode suggests that Nathalie’s advisements regarding Adrien are genuinely in the interest of helping Gabriel be a better father, and this would include the decision to let him go to school. She helps him be a better Hawkmoth too, but first and foremost, Nathalie is a catalyst of change, not a perpetuator of events that set Gabriel’s development backwards. If she managed to convince Gabriel to let Adrien go to school because he’d have more time to be terrorist, that contradicts Nathalie’s thematic purpose and mars the authenticity of the “affection” Nathalie herself feels her Adrien. It also makes any sort of positive development in Adrien’s life from there on out inherently linked to his father’s inability to be present. And that challenges the optimistic tone of every scene in which Gabriel and Adrien manage to spend quality time together.

All that said, evil!Emilie is not so much a justification for Gabenath as it is the conflict surrounding the damaged father-son relationship, and possibly the means through which it can be repaired. Obviously, none of us can say for certain if Emilie is in any way directly responsible for either the tension or the existence of Hawkmoth, but she does represent a disparity between Gabriel and Adrien’s response to loss and change. I argue that having her be the “evil” one, having her be the character at the forefront of this miraculous agenda, results in a more compelling story and more compelling character development down the road.