#i suppose i might want to disclaim somewhere i am taking double life more or less on its own?

[erstwhilesparrow]

hm. i don't know if any of this is a NEW thought, but i'm gonna start writing and we'll see what becomes of it, i suppose!

this was originally spurred by me going, "wow, it is so so important to me that cleo spends so much of double life being scared." and then i was like, "okay, why. what's so important about that and also why are they being like that."

if you'll forgive reverse order, the second one first: because her soulmate isn't there! it's all right if you can see the shape of the skeleton firing arrows at you, or the fire filling up your vision; at least you know where that's coming from and how to stop it. with the soulbond mechanic, there is a direct line from someone else('s pain) to you, some kind of forced vulnerability that you can never make stop and through which there is always danger you can neither control nor predict. you see what i mean about an open wound? an injury that doesn't scar, that keeps dripping blood and won't let you forget it?

(side thought: pain. what does or does not get counted as pain, what pain is / is not [for] in a minecraft world vs a physical world. i don't have clearer thoughts than this but i really think someone ought to.)

so the instinctive animal response is to curl around the injury, to hide and growl and hunker down. (thought: cleo's red life bunker.) it's... a response to soulmates that both captures how i tend to feel about these things (there is no soulmate story that is not a horror story to me!!) and is so interestingly in tension with how soulmates are so often talked about, even in the game. that's your partner, that's your buddy, that's the one you were meant to be beside, that's... the thing you have to keep an eye on because if you can't you may find yourself in grave danger without warning or recourse.

(another side thought: reading cleo's choice of scott as not just "yes, that's my friend, let's stick with him" but also as a survival choice, as "yes, i need to have someone willingly on my side, who is good at this game and has no particular fondness for their soulbound partner," is fascinating. like with team rancher, i don't think it's calculated like that by either party, but i do think there could be something sharp or crunchy or sparkly in the convenience of cleo continuing to stick with scott.)

and the rest i think i've said already. i'm kind of obsessed with the image this creates of cleo as someone who was fine before, who has now had something taken from them, because now they have an other half to consider at all. for soulmates to exist, they have to be missing pieces that the other person is meant to fill. for your soulmate to be a balm, there first has to be a wound, right?

okay. soulmates as open wounds. soulmates as thing imposed on you, as the tearing apart of a piece of you. "your soulmate makes you whole" vs imagery of something that was originally whole being gravely wounded. need to reconsider in the morning if this is anything.

[paperlovesadness]

Ah... I feel a bit strange doing this. Might just stay in the drafts forever. We'll see. But my hands itch to do it every single time I listen to the song so... So here's a lyric analysis of "Star Treatment" and how... it might?... be? A song... About... Miles Kane?? Maybe??? 🫣 (no executions please. I'm really not trying to push this narrative. These things just kind of jumped out at me & I felt an urge to write it down somewhere. And perhaps see if anyone agrees? Comments encouraged! If anyone ever stumbles upon this silly thing) This will get long... Cause that's who I am. And also it references other songs.

Disclaimer 1: I did see someone attempt this on reddit. It was a bit out there though... And maybe ironic? I do share a thought or two with them though.

Disclaimer 2, an Important one: this does rely on an implication that there was something more between the two sometime around/ between 2015-2017ish? I don't want to put any labels and try to stay away from any too specific guesses. But well, I suppose I do kind of personally believe there was something there. If you're not a fan of theories about private lives of real people... I'm sorry. This one's not for you. I really do try to do it as respectfully as possible though. At the end of the day - it's just a theory. And not a mean one. I understand it's all just something that fits together in my head and may be very far from any truth. Disclaimer 3: I know this album is a concept album centered around characters. But I'm analyzing the second, potential autobiogrophical hidden layer beneath the obvious first meaning

Okay, let us have a whack at it now:

I just wanted to be one of The Strokes Now look at the mess you made me make Hitchhiking with a monogrammed suitcase Miles away from any half-useful imaginary highway

This one is very on the nose. But quite literally sneaking in his name in the lyrics -- maybe? we know Alex loves playing with many meanings/hidden messages & double entendres. + the being away from any half-useful imaginary highway makes me think of when he spoke about the fact that he couldn't write any more love-related matarial after EYCTE. And someone encouraged him to just go a different route. That's how TBHC was born. But also implies some trouble in the love-related ascpects of his life around the time. Could've just been trouble around Taylor - who he broke up with soon after the album's release. There's theories about how that happened [current girlfriend invloved] - but maybe there was even more confusion & heartbreak in the mix (ending a tour with someone with whom the lovey-dovey jokes may have gone a bit too far/serious?)

I'm a big name in deep space, ask your mates But golden boy's in bad shape

this is just implying any sort of broken-heartedness.

I found out the hard way that Here ain't no place for dolls like you and me Everybody's on a barge Floating down the endless stream of great TV 1984, 2019

dolls = puppets. And how the industry / society isn't a good place for relationships like this. (People wouldn't understand the type of bond they share?)

Maybe I was a little too wild in the '70s Rocket-ship grease down the cracks of my knuckles Karate bandana, warp speed chic Hair down to there, impressive moustache

Miles and Alex have spoken many times about how their first album was heavily 60s inspired - Scott Walker, The Beatles, 60s Morricone.

What may be less obvious and spoken about is how EYCTE was sort of meant to take their work into the 70s. He spoke about it in an interview when asked about the album cover. It's a 1969 photo of Tina Turner - which Alex commented on by saying: "The idea was to move the artwork on from the ’60s feel of the first Last Shadow Puppets album artwork, so here is Tina on the very cusp of the 1970s" (They also chose to sing covers like Moonage Daydream and Is This What You Wanted during that tour. Both 70s songs from artists that defined the era). So this could be him reflecting on the EYCTE era and how things may have gotten a bit too far during the time. Going in to deep, crossing some boundries and definitions?

Love came in a bottle with a twist-off cap Let's all have a swig and do a hot lap

alcohol? pills? alcohol & or drugs clouding some judgement/helping loosen up and causing the crossing of certain [friendship] boundries?

So who you gonna call? The Martini Police Baby, that isn't how they look tonight, oh no It took the light forever to get to your eyes

It's not a particularly meaningful line in terms of this narrative - but I wanted to talk about it because I find it so beautiful but also so fuck*ng sad. Like - one of he saddest lines I've read. It just hit me in the heart straight away when I heard it. I feel like my personal interpretation is dead wrong. But still choose to see it that way. I also know of the story of how it's inspired by Alex's dad telling him about how we see the light of the stars the way it was in the past bc of how long it takes to reach us. The way I hear this line though is: seeing the bottomless sadness in the eyes of someone who had their heart broken. Someone whose eyes used to be full of happiness - and now it takes forever for any touch of happiness to show up in their gaze. Now a possible interpratation for a second meaning to this whole section could be: calling the martini police = grabbing a drink to help with hearbreak, when there's no other solutions left. Miles has sang in his breakup album Coup de Grace about how he drowned the sadness after hearbreak in alcohol and pills. Mixing stuff together like a mad scientist etc. (Also if you ever saw the interview he did with [the one and only] Martin on his CDG album... Oof... Yeah. There was no light in that man's eyes. Even Martin saw that pain and commented on it. It's a tough one to watch)

I just wanted to be one of those ghosts You thought that you could forget And then I haunt you via the rear view mirror On a long drive from the back seat

This is one of these sections that hits me the most. Cause to me it can be seens as: Alex being aware of how much pain he caused - all he could wish is that he was just another lover whom the hearbroken person [Miles?] could forget. But alas - he still haunts him. Here it gets interesting (or batshit crazy. Cause I might be). Beacause the use of "ghost" just absolutely sends me to Miles' song "Shavambacu" - where he describes the eyes/thoughts of an ex lover still being focused on him after the breakup (this song though could have a whole seperate post of it's own) While "haunting via a rear view mirror" made me jump up and recall lyrics from Miles' song "Dont let it get you down". I saw your reflection, in The backseat of a Chevrolet from Hollywood to East LA NOW - don't shout at me. I know timelines are important. Because Shavambacu and Star Treatment came out around a similar time period. But Shavambacu came out a little bit later. While DLIGYD came out completely after all of hits - this year. So first off - I'm considering the fact that Miles and Alex are clearly still friends and in contact. So could have shown each other songs earlier. But more plausible theory: if these songs are perhaps maybe inspired by one another - they clearly are gonna recall events and/or inside lingo and jokes they both used. Possible situation: post Miles-Alex hearbreak Miles stumbled upon Alex going somewhere in a car. They spotted each other. this also makes me recall the whole:

Swear I saw you smile You try to hide it well 3:15 on the wrong side Columbia Street line from "Killing the Joke". Which many think references the area that Alex lives in. They lived a few minutes away from each other around 2016-2017. So would obviously run into one another often. Even if they were going through something and taking a break/trying not to.

But it's alright, 'cause you love me And you recognise that it ain't how it should be Your eyes are heavy and the weather's getting ugly

This one is also way to sad if you place it in a relationshippy context. There's a few ways I see it: 1) it's alright - no matter what happens, because A. knows M. loves him and will understand why things ended like they did. It shouldn't be this way - but it has to be, because there's things standing in the way. He believes he'll understand despite the grief. 2) dramatic, sad version - the "it ain't how it should be" actually references the "love me part". So M. should understand that things ended because they shouldn't love each other this way. It's just now how it should be and A. believes M. recognises that.

So pull over, I know the place Don't you know an apparition is a cheap date? What exactly is it you've been drinking these days?

once again referencing bumping into each other randomly? And going with it - going some place; talking. Maybe about how Miles' is doing, the heartbreak, how he deals with it - the alcohol (once again - just referencing what he himself sang about in lyrics on his breakup album)

Jukebox in the corner, "Long Hot Summer" They've got a film up on the wall and it's dark enough to dance

"Long Hot Summer" - by The Style Council is actually a song Alex cited to be one of the main references/inspirations used when working on the EYCTE album. So is definitely a nostalgic/meaninful song between the two. They go to a place after bumping into one another - there's a jukebox with a nostalgic song. They can dance together - because it's an incognito, dark place.

What do you mean you've never seen Blade Runner?

Now the Blade Runner line is so clearly Taylor Bagley (the woman is a huge, huge fan of it, apparently) it did have me stumped for a while. But then - maybe it's a clarifying line? Like - if this were about Taylor he would definitely not say that to her. It's obvious she's seen it a million times. Maybe this is here to sort of clarify this?

Oh, maybe I was a little too wild in the '70s Back down to earth with a lounge singer shimmer Elevator down to my make-believe residency From the honeymoon suite Two shows a day, four nights a week Easy money

70s again - EYCTE era But after the tour ended it was time to go back to earth, back to being non-TLSP Alex. Running away from reality into writing music - writing about a make-believe residency (Tranquility Base) Time to leave the honeymoon era = the tour and shows TLSP had together. (also AM may be easy money? Their reputation [very well deserved] makes it so that it's easy - bc anything they come out with will be bought)

So who you gonna call? The Martini Police So who you gonna call? The Martini Police Oh, baby, that isn't how they look tonight It took the light absolutely forever to get to your eyes

...

And as we gaze skyward, ain't it dark early?It's the star treatment Yeah, and as we gaze skyward, ain't it dark early? It's the star treatment It's the star treatment The star treatment

a sad ending. It got dark. A bit too early. It's sad that it all ended. But that's how it has to be - in show buisness, in the industry. They're well known people and it could hurt their careers - also it would just get out easily, so there's no room for self-discovery and just trying it out. That's the star treatment. (This is also a theme I am seeing in Mr. Schwartz lyrics. But that's for another time) Am I crazy? Probably! Is this just accidental elaborate fan fiction? Maybe! But still...I don't know. Song theories are fun. I get that morally it's a gray / or maybe even red area - talking out loud, publicly about theories invloving specific names and relationships. But like... Sue me! Let's call it a guilty pleasure. If anyone ever reads through this wall of text... Hi! Thanks and sorry. And please share some thoughts! (Eh. May just delete this soon anyway) Peace and love

[wrenhyperfixates]

The Raven Haired Rebel

Prologue

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: After invading New York, it was decided that, as a punishment, Loki would work for SHIELD. Yeah, right. After escaping from their custody and stranded on Midgard, the God of Mischief decides to prove he’s the one thing no one ever thought he was: the good guy. Now a vigilante, Loki attempts to make amends for his past wrongdoings while also evading the Avengers, including their newest member. You. Brought in specially for the case, you notice more and more details about the prince’s story don’t add up. When you get the chance to turn him in, will you listen to your employers or your heart that believes Loki’s done nothing wrong? Chapter Summary: In which Loki decides to forge his own path. Chapter Warnings: none :) A/N: Welcome to the start of my new mini series! The idea came from the Send Me a Fic Title ask game. This was a title sent in by @lokistan​! Hope you enjoy!

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan​ @lowkeyorlokificrecs​ @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​ @mythicalgarlicknot​ @what-a-flammable-heart​ @marvelouslovely​ @laurenandloki​ @fallinallinmendes​ @sophlubbwriting​ @mooncat163​ 

RHR Tag List: @happygalaxymilkshake​ @electroma89​ @stardust-walker​ @i-would-kneel-for-loki​

Masterlist

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki wondered what his cell on Asgard would look like, for surely he’d be transferred there any day now. For three days now, he’d been held in the belly of a SHIELD base in these ridiculous cuffs. Tony had, at least, sent down that drink Loki had asked for. Whether it was a taunt or a small bit of kindness, Loki honestly wasn’t sure. Either way, he’d downed it in one gulp; Midgardian alcohol never having a strong effect on him. Honestly, he probably should have been concerned if it was poisoned or not. Then again, after everything he’d been through, what did he care?

“Brother,” Loki greeted Thor as he walked into view. “How lovely of you to finally grace me with your presence. Though I take it this is not a leisure visit, hm?”

“You know full well it is not,” the God of Thunder replied with a stern tone.

“And here I was so hoping we could catch up.”

“If you want to talk, then talk, Loki. Explain yourself. What has transpired that you have attacked so many innocent people in this way?”

Loki wanted to laugh at that. Innocent? Who was Thor to talk of innocent with all the unrighteous battles he’d fought, all the blood spilled by his hands? The God of Mischief had done what? Attacked a military base? Made a few people kneel? Corralled a few groups into buildings? Which really was for the own safety so they wouldn’t be in the way of the battles on the streets. But no; conquest was apparently only just when Odin decided to do it. When Thor wanted to follow in his footsteps. But for Loki, there was a whole other set of rules. Of course, no one ever bothered to outline them for the trickster, just let him know he failed to obey them.

Besides, he hadn’t been in his right mind. Rather, he’d been under the mind stone’s influence, under Thanos’s control. He worked his jaw as he tried to figure out whether to say that or not. If he had any sense of self preservation, he probably would have. Yet after living his whole life being told he was weak, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Whether Asgardian culture, his family, or he himself were to blame for that, he wasn’t sure. Still, best just to stick with his wit.

“Pardon, brother,” Loki finally replied. “If it bothers you that much, I will stop following your example.”

“You dare insinuate I would do such a thing?” Thor rhetorically asked, appalled and shocked now that his honor was called into question. “Truly, brother, your mind is far more twisted than I had imagined. I see now I should not have advocated for you; you are too far gone. And yet, I already have, so your second chance you shall have.”

“How benevolent,” Loki rolled his eyes.

In reality, Loki was actually kind of touched Thor had spoken on his behalf. It was more than he expected from the blonde. Though, he had a feeling he hadn’t been spoken of in the most flattering light. Regardless, Thor opened his cell and, accompanied by a couple agents, led him to the upper floors of of the base.

The light blinded Loki for a minute as he saw sunlight for the first time since he’d been locked up. The glares passing agents gave him did significantly less to burn him, though. He was used to scorn. Of course, he did feel a wave of regret as he realized he’d probably killed some of their colleagues, their friends. Even if he didn’t have control of himself, he’d still done it. Why did he have to be so weak as to let Thanos gain control of his mind, he wondered? Such horrid deeds had never been in his nature before, though it seemed Thor was ready to believe he’d been evil all along.

The brothers were silent the whole way to Fury’s office, even as they waited for the director to come in. From his seat in front of the desk, Loki surveyed the office. Nice enough, he mused, but could use some more color. Maybe some drapes. Loki wondered if he should laugh that that’s what he was thinking. Though, in all honesty, it might be a chuckle of relief, knowing that his thoughts were finally his own again.

When the director did finally walk in, he and Loki just eyed each other for a moment, sizing the other up. Loki was fairly confident he could get out of this room, out of this base, if he really wanted to. But what was even the point? He wasn’t particularly interested in playing a game of cat and mouse, as SHIELD would try desperately to recover him. No, he’d rather take whatever punishment was about to be doled out. At least for now, anyway.

“Well, thank you for having me,” Loki quipped, being the first to break the silence. “I am afraid I have never been much good at small talk, though. How about that weather?”

“Funny,” Fury deadpanned. “Glad you didn’t lose your sense of humor when you killed my men.”

Loki’s smile faltered ever so slightly. It seemed like people were going to keep bringing that up despite that it had not even been his intention to kill anyone. Injure and temporarily dispose of, sure, but not kill. He supposed that having been on the verge of collapse himself, he wasn’t able to be as precise as he usually was.

“That little stunt you pulled should have you locked up for life,” Fury continued before Loki could respond. “However, we are prepared to offer you a deal. You are going to work for SHIELD to make up for your crimes.”

“Ah. I see. So gracious of you. And my other options are?”

“You come with me back to Asgard,” Thor chimed in, “and father can do whatever he wants with you.”

Well, that created three possible paths, really, Loki figured. Be sent to Asgard and locked up there was option one. Then the second was to be sent back and killed. Was it bad he kind of hoped for the latter? Oh, it definitely was. Yet, that’s how he felt. And then he could stay here, play along until the opportunity came to break free. Live his life as he wanted for once.

“Alright,” Loki agreed with a smile that he was sure would be seen as more untrustworthy than anything else. “When do I begin?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week of tedious lectures later, Loki was out in the field. He’d listened with rapt attention as he’d undergone his brief training. And somehow they deemed him trustworthy enough to send on a mission already. So, here he was in a Quinjet with his fellow agents. Maybe they didn’t entirely trust him. After all, Clint kept eyeing him with something akin to murder in his gaze.

Still, once they touched down, Loki followed the procedures he’d been taught. Thankfully, they hadn’t trusted him with any of the more important jobs, just securing the perimeter. That, of course, was a mistake on their part. As soon as it was time to break apart from the others, Loki created a double of himself. Meanwhile, he causally strutted over to a nearby motorcycle. Ok, he had to admit he didn’t really know how to ride one, but he’d make do.

Loki’s drive was surprisingly smooth as he escaped his would-be employers. The joke was on them for trying to tie him down, he thought. It was actually rather freeing to be racing along the open road, wind in his raven-black hair. Maybe he could find a nice little secluded home somewhere and live the rest of his days out in peace. And then he saw a burning building. Really, he should just keep going. You Midgardians had forces to deal with this. And yet, something made him pull over and rush inside, saving those he found trapped by the flames.

“I can never thank you enough,” a lady blubbered as she clung to her child, who Loki had just saved. “Please, what’s your name? How can I repay you?”

“You can call me, Loki,” he replied with a charming grin. “And really, no thanks necessary. It is just what I do.”

And as he rode off again, Loki decided he was going to make that last statement true. Look out, Midgard, he thought to himself. Looks like you have got yourself a new superhero.

[infernal-fire]

Long Forgotten

I am choosing to not use warnings. Do not read if you are uncomfortable with themes of infidelity, angst, swearing and sexual innuendos. 

Summary: Your Steve isn’t yours anymore and you’re beginning to understand why. 

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairings: Steve x reader and a surprise appearance ;)

Disclaimer: this is set right after Endgame

A/N: this story was inspired by @nsfwsebbie’s fic please don’t take him (even though you can). it was so damn amazing. i thought of how the situation would go under different circumstances, and added a more strong willed reader into the mix  :)

i tried to proofread but im sort of posting in a rush so all mistakes are my own!

(This GIF does not belong to me)

Your head was nestled in the crook of Steve’s neck and his arms were cradling your tired form. Dried tears left your face feeling dry and your up do from the funeral was now tousled. Steve let out a heavy sigh and held you a little tighter. 

You could fall asleep if it weren’t for the looming stress of returning the stones so you decided to bide your time by focusing on the super soldier’s unnaturally slow heartbeat. 

“We should go, sweetheart. They’re waiting for me.” his voice broke the placid silence that had enveloped the room. 

You silently got off the bed and Steve’s hand nudged yours, stopping you from reaching the door. 

He slowly pulled you towards him and you met him halfway, face-to-face.

“I know things aren’t great right now. But we’ll get through this,” he spoke lowly as his large hands cupped your face. They felt rough against your supple skin, but his touch was as tender as ever.

You stared into his eyes for a moment before speaking. "I’ll come with you,” you offered.

“No,” he affirmed. His tone was firm yet a touch of softness was reserved in there somewhere, just for you.

“I love you Y/N. I’ll love you no matter what,” he said as he pulled your head into his chest and engulfed your body into his. 

//

You reached the new, mini version of the previously destroyed time travel contraption Tony made. Sam, Bucky and Professor Hulk were engaging in light conversation that clearly, none of them were interested in. You look up at Steve, who was as tense as ever, clutching your hand like a vice. He let go and glanced back at you before joining Sam. 

You knew deep down that Steve would never be the same anymore. Hell, after the Battle of Wakanda, Steve almost ended the relationship because the Avengers lost.

But the Avengers won this time, and things should feel different. So why did it feel like he was leaving forever? 

You recalled the very short conversation you had with him about Tony’s snap.

 “I should have snapped,” he sobbed. 

“You’ve always been selfless your whole life. This was Tony’s time to be selfless, and you don’t get to take that away from him.” You hugged him and cried with him. 

There was nothing else to be said.

How much you wished no one had to die. 

He stood on the platform and nodded at Bruce before locking eyes with you.

Apologetic. He looked apologetic. 

At the time, you thought he just looked sad. You assumed it was residual sadness from the funeral but looking back, you realized he looked apologetic for what he was about to do. 

Rebuilding your relationship wasn’t easy. Tony and Nat’s death and the trauma of the battle were overshadowing both of your feelings. You salvaged what you could and life returned to a “normal” that never existed. 

Being an Avenger means your living costs are covered by Tony, basically compensating for the missions. Only there weren’t any missions anymore. You were grateful but it meant that you had a lot of time on your hands. 

You took up a job as a waitress and Steve continued running sessions at the VA with Sam. It was humbling to be serving people at a diner after fighting alongside some of Earth’s mightiest heroes. But you needed it. And slowly but steadily, happiness crept its way into the tower. 

You didn’t see Steve around anymore though. You weren’t sure if you were even together anymore, aside from the forehead kisses and lingering glances.

You and Bucky set the table while you heard Sam and Steve banter over who gets to choose the movie today. Bucky chuckled and called them to eat.

There was relentless teasing, jokes being tossed around and big smiles everywhere.

“The nurse had poked him 2 times at this point and there was no blood coming out of him.” Sam laughed. 

“So she asks me if we can do the other arm.” Bucky snorted through breaths of amusement. 

“This guy pulls up his sleeve and the girl faints.” Sam howled as everyone doubled over in laughter. 

You wiped a tear from your eye and you look over at Steve who was laughing as well. It had been a long time since you’ve seen him so happy. 

Sure, he’d been distant. He hadn’t touched you since he came back. It had been 2 months though, and you wondered if you should try again tonight. You put a hand over Steve’s and he snapped his head to you. He gave you a small smile before slipping his hand out from under yours and picking up a napkin.

He needed the napkin, you told yourself. 

You went up to change into something that he might find more appealing. You were torn between the red lace set or the black corset. You settled for the classic red lace and tied on a robe before heading downstairs to tease him a little. 

“You’re going to tell her before you go right?” You heard Sam’s voice and broke your stride to the kitchen. 

“She won’t be happy.” You swore it was Steve’s voice but it was a little too quiet to be sure. You silently padded toward the kitchen, standing right outside the entrance to hear better.

“Of course she won’t be happy. You went back to be with a girl from 70 years ago and spent 4 months with her. You sort of cheated on her Steve.” Bucky’s voice quipped at Steve. 

You couldn’t be hearing right. Steve went back and got together with Peggy?

“It’s not sort of cheating, he almost got married to her,” Sam remarked in rebuttal. 

He almost got married to her. 

He almost got married to her. 

He almost got married to her.

There was so much information to process. Your shoulder sagged with the weight of the news and you cupped your mouth before anyone could hear your sob. 

“But I came back.” Steve countered. 

“Do you love her?” Bucky lowered his voice and inquired. 

“I don’t know anymore.” 

Your chest heaved and eyes burned. You wanted to gasp for air but you knew if you breathed, you would let out the anguish building in your stomach. 

Your back hit the wall and you slid down, not caring if he hears anymore. 

In moments, Steve, Bucky and Sam appear beside you with startled faces. 

You didn’t look at them as you got up and paced to your room. You thought you heard Steve’s voice calling after you but your thoughts pounded and clawed at the insides of your head. You couldn’t be sure and you weren’t going to turn back now. 

He didn’t run after you. You had predicted that he didn’t want to deal with your hysterical crying which surely could be heard past your room walls. When you considered it, this new Steve was actually quite predictable; you knew he wouldn’t bother bringing it up to you until you brought it up yourself. Because he was a coward like that, you decided. All of his actions spoke for themself and the one true motive behind his cheating is cowardice. You don’t know if you would have been okay with him going back to Peggy, but if he talked about it, things not have ended the way they did. 

After 2 days of not leaving your room, you knew that there was a better way to handle this. It wasn’t you who should be embarrassed; instead of sulking, you marched to his room with newfound determination. 

You threw open his door that he didn’t even bother locking. Steve was mid-speech with someone on the phone, seemingly a conversation that wasn’t going his way. He seemed tense, his muscles protruding from the tight white t-shirt pulled over him. 

Your jaw ticked as you shifted your weight onto one foot and rested on the doorframe, waiting for him to end the call. 

“I’m sorry to cut this short. We have a lot to talk about but it’ll have to happen in-person.” he concluded the phone call and sat on the bed with his head in his arms. 

“Seems like you planned it all.” you commented, trying to sound like you didn’t care. In reality, the wound was still very fresh. Even though a part of you had known that the relationship was over for some time now, you were only coming to terms with it now. 

“I wanted to tell you before I left, but you were just so upset and I couldn’t …” he trailed off. 

“All of a sudden you care about me? And now this is somehow my fault that you were too chicken to tell me,” you retorted, unimpressed with his answer.

“I have always cared about you and always will.” He got up and walked towards you. He cupped your face but you pushed his hand off, glaring up at him. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I admit I could’ve handled everything lot better but Y/N. When you told me Tony’s snap was his moment of selflessness, I realized that all I’ve ever done is be selfless. And I don’t regret any of it. But it was time I chose to do something for myself. Then I remembered Peggy and the life I left behind and I just knew this world would be okay without me so I chose to be selfish. I chose to be selfish, Y/n, and I don’t regret that either.” 

You were crying now, and Steve reached to wipe it off, but you smacked his hand. 

“You used to choose me. You woke up everyday and chose us. The day you decided you didn’t want this anymore, you decided you would just go ‘fuck all’ and cheat on me? You couldn’t have ended it like a normal person?” you questioned through your tears. Your vision was foggy but you kept wiping your eyes, trying not let him see your tears.

He sighed and let a few moments stretch on before he answered.  

“We both know that this relationship was over a long time ago Y/N.”

You noted his use of your name and not the usual pet name ‘sweetheart’ or ‘love’. It saddened you even more to think that he doesn’t associate those words with you anymore. 

“You’re a fucking bastard Rogers. You are the biggest coward I have ever met in my life. You may be the Captain America, but you are the biggest wimp in real life.” You could tell he was fuming because of your comment but you continued your spiel. 

“I tried everything to make this work. The moment that the thought of cheating crossed your mind, you should have broken my heart. Because all you did now was rip it out and stomp on it before spitting on the what’s left-”

“I can’t believe you’re standing here accusing me of not trying to make this work. You know what Y/N? I fucking left Peggy because I thought about you and thought I could make this work. And then I came back and remembered all the reasons why this wouldn’t work and now I regret it. I wish I could go back to Peggy.”

“Go fuck yourself Rogers,” you muttered and turned to leave. “Actually, go fuck Peggy’s skeleton Steve. I curse you with every cell in my body. I hope you never get to see her again. I know you’re trying to go back,” you added before wiping you final tear, once and for all. There was no way you were going to shed another tear on this asshole. 

Except, it wasn’t that simple. You did cry over it more, but if there’s anything you did right, it was making sure he never saw your tears. 

You also found that post-break up glow up’s were a real thing. The lack of missions means you didn’t need to see Steve unless you chose to be in the same space as him. So you chose to make new friends and bring new light into your life. There was no dread clouding your judgment because for once, there was no impending threat on the future of Earth. 

You cut your hair, you changed up your wardrobe and got as fit as you’ve ever been. Your friends made frequent stops at the Tower which eventually turned into dragging you into their bar hopping.

On the other hand, Steve was doing everything he could to go back to Peggy, just like you had predicted. You manifested his downfall. Hank Pym refused to let his work fall into the hands of the Avengers and Steve was having a very hard time convincing him otherwise. The final nail in the coffin was when Hank decided that Pym Particles should not be produced anymore. As long as the world didn’t understand the entirety of the quantum realm, no one should have access to something that could mess with it. No arguments could ensue because there was nothing anyone could say to change Hank’s mind.

As much as Bucky and Sam wanted him to go back, they knew he deserved it for everything you were put through. When Steve found that his friends weren’t on the same page as him, he spiraled deeper into regret and depression. There wasn’t much to be done in terms of world-saving, which is what he was made for. The person he thought was the love of his life is gone now. When the dust settled, he realized that you were the only thing that kept him going for so long. But now he lost you too, and there was nothing he could do get you back. 

While you were out living your new life, Steve was trying to find a life for himself. He would see you around the compound and wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of your love. What he would do to feel that again, he couldn’t explain to anyone. 

Your escapades were at an all-time high. You knew that single life is the life. Just when you finally concluded that all men were trash, Ransom came crashing into your life. Although he only reinforced this belief, this man wasn’t just any trash. He was your trash. 

He was the mutual of your friends and you seemed to never be able to escape him. Moreover, your friends decided that you wouldn’t escape him. 

The teasing and playful banter between you two turned into something more serious about a year after your break-up. Ransom was everything Steve wasn’t. 

Steve was a gentleman. Chivalrous. Gentle. 

Then you reminded yourself that he had proven to you that he wasn’t any of things anymore. Ransom was the exact opposite, but he wore it on his sleeve. After all the lies and cowardice, Ransom’s blunt and bold attitude was exactly what you needed. 

There were moments you found yourself comparing the nature of the two relationships. With Steve, a lot of it was gentle and soft with some roughness around the edges. Life alongside Ransom was nothing short of callous, but that’s why soft, vulnerable moments felt even more extraordinary and special. 

If you made a judgement based off first impressions, someone like Ransom seems to be more likely to cheat than someone like Steve Rogers. Upon deeper analyzation though, Ransom doesn’t have any skeletons in his closet. He doesn’t claim things easily, but when he does, he would go to any length to make sure what’s his, will stay his. Soon after you realized this, you began abandoning thoughts of comparing the two relationships. 

//

There was a party at the Tower for Sam’s birthday. It was the first time in a long time that you were going to be around Steve for longer than 10 minutes. Doubt began seeping through your determination; how well would you fare under the pressure of pretending to be okay around him? 

“Do we have to match, sugar?” Ransom whined from your bathroom. 

“Why would you even go to an event as a couple if you aren’t matching?” you hollered back. 

You heard Ransom grumble as the bathroom door swung open. The emerald green dress shirt with small gold polka dots complemented his eyes so perfectly. Ransom was about to complain again before seeing the look of awe on your face. He decided right then that he could suck it up for the night. 

You were wearing an emerald green cocktail dress with sheer black net covering your shoulders, your sleeves reaching your elbows. The material was different, but the print was the exact same as Ransom’s. He couldn’t help but wonder why you put so much effort into such little things. He made a mental note to do something like this for you another time before wrapping his arms around your frame, burying his face into your face.

“Ran! My hair!” you squealed as you tried to push him off. 

“Usually it’s me that takes this long to get ready. You trying to impress the Captain?” Ransom winked and sat on your bed. 

“Oh fuck off.” you rolled your eyes and added the big bow to your half up hair-do. 

“You look so innocent baby. How angelic would you look with my cum dripping out of your mouth?” he smirked as you dropped your mouth, looking at him through the mirror. 

“My god Ran, this is not the time.” You shook your head and pulled him with you, finally making your way to the party downstairs. 

You were breaking out into cold sweat for some reason. Part of you really wanted to show Steve how happy you were now, but you felt that it meant you weren’t truly over him. Were you making a mistake?

Right before you opened the door the common room where the party was ongoing, Ransom stopped you and looked right into your eyes. 

“You know, as much as I’d like to make your ex jealous, if you don’t want this, I could think of a lot of other ways to spend the night,” he winked and you blushed. This is exactly why you liked him so much. There was no pressure to be anything but yourself around him. Even if you told him you wanted to go back to your room, there would be no judgement on his behalf. He wouldn’t ever bring it up as a joke either, because he just knew what he could and couldn’t joke about. 

“Let’s do this, bubbles” you giggled. He groaned at the nickname and pulled you into his side with one arm, opening the door with the other. 

One of Ransom’s many talents was making an entrance and this event was no exception. As you walked through the entrance, Ransom kept his head high and pulled you along with him. His confidence began rubbing off you and within a few steps, you stopped slouching. Straightening you back and tossing your hair behind your back, you bathed in the glory of the looks you and Ransom were getting. He took you straight to the bar, smiled at you and ordered drinks. 

“You know, your ex was fuming in the corner,” he remarked as he sipped on his drink. 

“No!” you laughed incredulously, unable to imagine Steve begin angry over Ransom’s presence. 

“It’s true, look for yourself,” he calmly retorted. His eyes flicked to a corner of the room and you followed his gaze there. Steve looked away upon seeing you look at him but it was clear that he was flustered. Bucky stood beside him, entertaining a gaggle of girls, but Steve’s attention was clearly elsewhere. 

“He’s actually pretty hot in person, it’s making me jealous” Ransom nonchalantly mentioned. 

You threw your head back and laughed. Your doubts of whether this was a good idea were dissipating very quickly. 

Ransom chuckled and then looked at you intently. You looked back at him, the high of the laugh wearing off because of his intense stare. 

“I think I’m in love with you.” you blurted. 

“You know, I’m glad you said it because I did not want to say it first.” he snickered and you playfully punched him. 

“Ow! I’m just kidding, don’t go all Avengers-mode on me!” he fussed.

You pulled him into a tight hug. He peeled your head away from his chest to cup your face and give you a light kiss before whispering ‘I love you too.’ You started to tear up, thinking of all the pain you had to go through to get this moment of tranquility with your favourite person in the whole, wide world. 

He cooed and kissed your forehead. 

“I always got you.” he assured and pulled your head back into his chest. You smiled and broke away from the hug, sitting back on the bar stool. 

“I think you transferred your lipstick because you have a dark red lip mark on your forehead.” 

You groaned and frantically wiped your forehead. 

“Hey,” he caught your wrist. “Why don’t we go back up and fix that?” His eyes glinted in the dim lights and you giggled like a schoolgirl as he pushed through the crowd.

In that moment, and every moment after it, Steve was long forgotten. 

Fill out the form in my bio or shoot me a message if you want to join my tag list!

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[weclassygirl]

𝐃𝐮𝐥𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐦

DISCLAIMER this is my first ever fic, EVER, never written anything before  

Word count: +2.9k

Pairing: santino d’antonio x f!reader 

Summary: reader gets transported into the John Wick Universe. She lands in the scene where Santino is supposed to die. She’s there to prevent that.

Author’s note: give me your most brutal honest opinion so I can improve. English is not my first language so beware. 

"I knew they would hunt us. Consequences."

THE FIRST WRITING/DRAFT WILL ALWAYS BE SHITTY AND I ACCEPT THAT

dulce periculum series: ... 02

Gif credits (x)

The moment you plant your feet on the ground you can feel that something's not right. Your whole body hurts, the bruises you're sure are already forming. It doesn't help with your slightly heavy breathing, a kick in the ribs is not very pleasant. You look at the surroundings around you with a frown.

You are standing in a place that looks like a lobby of an expensive hotel, but you notice something else. You know this lobby. You've seen those marble walls, golden hue of light, this whole structure hundreds of times on the screen. 

It can't be you think to yourself. There's no way that- you cut off your thought mid sentence when you notice a few things. 

The whole lobby is empty and you can only see the concierge behind the marble desk looking at the screen of a computer in front of him.

 He does not acknowledge you right away but you're pretty sure that he knows you're there. You realize one important thing. This place is always filled with people even at these late hours, which could mean one thing…

You head towards the reception, your eyes set on the concierge. He looks up at you with a calm demeanor.

"Welcome to the Continental, how may I help you?" he says, noticing your appearance.

"Which way is the lounge?" you ask quickly. 

He doesn't say anything but can see that somehow you know. You know who just went through those doors, what is about to happen. Yet he answers your question. 

"To your right, down the hall."

You nod in thanks and speed to the lounge area. You can already hear distinct voices as well as your heart, beating in your chest.

The moment you arrive at the venue you yell "Wait!"

The few of the guests look up in your direction as well as the man holding a gun. You walk quickly down the stairs and place yourself in front of him. Shielding the man sitting in a chair behind you. You raise your hands up.

"You don't have to do this. Think of the consequences." you say in a surprisingly calm voice. "If you kill him you'll be excommunicated, haunted. That contract will double up and go international." 

The man’s face flashes with a emotion that resemblances surprise. He doesn't point his gun at you but his stare might as well feel like it. He doesn't know you and yet he listens, he wonders if you're somehow connected to the Italian, if you're a threat.

"If you kill him you'll drag a lot of people into your mess. You'll use your ticket to Ruska Roma, you will never be able to go back there, Jardani."

At this John reacts. How can you know about the ticket, his real name? 

Who are you? 

You can hear Winston telling the guests and the staff to leave the lounge, they scatter quickly, not wanting to be involved in the matter in front of them. 

"I know that you will also go to Sofia with her marker, I know what will happen once you pull that trigger cause I saw it already." you say desperately. 

"What do you mean by that?" your eyes quickly move to Winston’s, but go back to John, fearing that if you lose him from his sight he might do something that will make him a target of the High Table.

"Listen I know you won't believe me, I'm pretty sure I look like crazy person now, but… I'm not from here." 

Both men give you a confused expression. They take you all in, bruises on the arms, neck and a growing yellow and purple patch on the jaw. You might as well look like one of the bowery.

"Where I'm from all of this happened in a movie. And I know it sounds unreal but you have to believe me." 

You were right, you did look like a crazy person to them and your words even made it more convincing. Yet the way you said it made you look like you're telling the truth. John knows when people lie, so does Winston. They can't be easily fooled, they see that you're not lying. 

Your heart starts to beat a bit faster, anxiousness fills you whole but you continue. 

"Give me a few minutes to talk with him. Let me try to recall the contract."

"He won't recall-"  

"At least let me try!" you cut him off with a shout that echoes faintly across the lounge. “Please.”

He stares at you, considering your request and nods, giving you a permission to talk with the man behind you.

You turn slowly in the direction of the man that's been silent throughout the whole exchange. You still keep your eyes on John who grips his gun even tighter. 

Santino D'Antonio sits in his chair with a calm demeanor still showing on his face. This man who made all of this happen still has the guts to smirk at the man that could easily end his life. 

"Call off the contract." you say right of the bat with a demanding look in your eyes. 

"And why would I do that, hm? You're in no position to order me around." he says it with a hint of an Italian accent. He's whole appearance seems as if he's been dealing with people like you his whole life and he probably has.

"Listen to me very carefully, if you don't call of this contract you'll be met with a bullet in your head. Your family, Camorra will be left without a leader, it will probably be overrun by other Italian families when they see that there's no one to rule it." you say it looking straight into those green eyes of his.

"Do you want that to happen? Don't you value your life?" you whisper. Pain mixed with worry etching on your face."You could finally be the head of the family and claim that High Table seat. A contract is not worth the life that you worked so hard for. Everyone knew that you wanted that seat, but you knew that Gianna wouldn't give it to you so easily." you pause, catching your breath. "Call off the contract for John and you'll have it, all of it. The seat, Camorra, everything. Don't let your hard work go to waste." you exhale, feeling like the whole sentence was said in one breath. 

Santino doesn't say anything only looks at you. He eyes you with noticeable question. Why would a complete stranger risk her life protecting him from the Boogeyman. 

"I assume that in your world I am a villain of this story, isn't that right? Why do you want to see me live?" 

"Believe it or not, somehow I understand you. You're not the only person here that worked their ass off just to get somewhere in life. Only for them to be looked over by everyone around them, telling them that they won't make it." you whisper. 

He considers your statement. What have you gone through to make you say that? These endless questions fill his head, but only one slips out of his mouth. 

"Chi sei?" Who are you? He asks in his mother tongue.

"Uno nessuno che è la tua ultima speranza ora." A nobody that is your last hope now. 

He's astounded, he didn't expect you to reply in his language. Minute by minute Santino is even more interested in your being. 

It feels like it's just you and him in the lounge, John and Winston somehow forgotten but still there. Both of the man watch the interaction like a tennis match. 

The only sound that fills the room is shuffling of Santino who reaches for his phone and dials a number.

"Put it on speaker." you say coldly, still keeping an eye contact with the Italian. 

Santino surprisingly obeys your command. The line beeps before a woman is heard through the speaker.

"Operator, how may I direct your call?" 

"Accounts payable."

"One moment, please." Seconds pass before an older woman’s voice speaks. "Accounts payable. How may I help you?"

John watches intently, never loosing the grip on the gun, ready for whatever happens next.

"I'd like to close an account." Santino speaks into the phone.

"Name on the account?" 

"John Wick."

"Verification?"

"9305-05." he says it slowly, as if to reassure John of his decision.

You notice that. You hope that Santino or John won't do anything stupid, that this will work out. Because it has to.

"Processing. Please hold." says the operator.

After a few seconds of an awkward silence all three men can hear two words that sound like heaven to you.

"Order confirmed." Santino ends the call.

There's an eerie atmosphere feeling up the air. The contract has been called off, you sigh relieved. All three men suddenly look up in your direction as if they just remembered that you're in the room.

You keep eye contact with Santino before moving to John's. His hand is not gripping the gun so tightly anymore. That eases you even if you're not sure if you just prevented an action that could cause more harm than good. 

Winston is the first one to take a voice. "Jonathan?" He looks up at him, expectantly, dreading his decision. John lifts up a gun and you fear the worst, yet he simply pulls out a magazine and puts the empty gun on the table. His scowl remains on his face, his eyes focused on the Italian. 

"I believe that you, young lady, owe us some explanation." you turn your head to Winston. His face calm, unmoving. He gestures towards the chair next to Santino, while he himself sits beside him. John is still standing but as soon as you comply with the managers wishes he does the same. 

There's an awkward silence in the air. Santino's dinner long cold, but he still sips on the red wine as if it's just another evening and not one that almost ended his life. All eyes are turned to you, with the exception of John and Santino who still glance at each other. Like before, Winston is the one to break that quietness.

"Now that we have a form of reassurance that Mr. Wick won't do anything to endanger Mr. D'Antonio's life, the only question left is, who are you?" His light eyes find yours. You expected him to ask this question, but now you don't know what to do, so you say the first thing that comes to your mind and as soon as you say it you want to disappear.

"Don't you think that it would be unwise of me to tell you my name? In this world?" 

You see their reaction, eyebrows raised. Why would you say that? Why would you say that to the man that controls New York, head of the most feared mafia and the deadliest assassin in the world. You truly feel like you should start digging your own grave, but your thoughts are interrupted by a small snicker of the Italian man. 

"The lady is right Winston. In this world you can't trust anyone with anything, even your own name. Isn't that right, Jardani?" his face smirks, that arrogant man of power coming through as he faces John. The latter says nothing, just glares at the man opposite him. “But then, how should we call you?” 

“Jade” you say simply. They looked at you doubt founded. " What? If I am to stay here then might as well use my second name that I don't use anyway." After a short break you whisper. "God, I honestly hope that I passed out in that alley and fell asleep. And when I wake up, I'll be back home. Watching this" you gesture around yourself "on my laptop." 

"An alley?" John asks suddenly.

"Yes. I um… some guys took my bag so I chased after them, threw a few punches, in return they beat me. Before I got here I heard some noise, and it was really irritating so I covered my ears and closed my eyes. Next thing I know, I'm at a Continental in a middle of the ending scene of John Wick Chapter 2."

"So you're here because of some high-pitched noise that you've heard? Might as well start believing in that little lie of yours." Winston says with amusement in his voice. 

"I'm not lying, it's true. I heard some noise and now I am here, somehow."

"You seem to be very sure about it. Tell me, how do you expect to survive in this world? You know what kind of people exist here, do you think you're safe here?" 

You look at the manager with an irritation that slowly turns into confusion.

"I don't know how to answer this, but I do know that I am not that helpless. I know how to fight, I understand multiple languages. Until I am here I'll just be careful and try to figure out how to get back to my world." 

The three men look at you, scanning your face for any sign of weakness, hesitation. Your world is not filled with an underworld society of assassins. It’s dangerous, sure, which world isn’t. But the thought of spending an unknown period of time here sends a shiver up your spine.

You’re taken back from your thoughts by John’s voice.

"What languages?" he asks.

"What?"

"You said you speak multiple languages. Which ones?" he questions further.

"Um, well, besides Italian it's Russian, Polish, German, French, Korean, Japanese, Spanish, Norwegian, and a bit of Arabic and Chinese." 

You liked learning, still do. Languages are just a mean to experience more culture, even if you can’t go to your desired places. It’s changes your mind perspective. 

"That's impressive." you hear Santino say beside you.

"What about fighting?"

"I took some self defense classes, but later I moved to boxing and hand to hand combat… "

Winston contemplates your answer for a brief second before speaking again.

"I have a feeling that you are as you’ve put it, not hopeless at all."

"Thanks…" you say warily.

The manager looks between both men, while they still shoot each other warning looks. 

"I believe that concludes our lovely conversation, but do tell us one last thing." his head snaps to you. "Where do you plan to stay? I'm sure you're aware of this hotel policy and it's form of payment, which you do not possess, isn't that right?"

You didn't think about that, well, not entirely at least. But you knew about one solution that could keep you somewhat safe, while in this world.

"Well I can always go to the Bowery King, maybe he'll take me in. From what I know he might even expect me, since he has eyes all over the city." you say a matter of factly. 

"I, might have a more suiting option." All heads snap to the Italian.

"Come with me." he simply says.

"What? Why?"

His face is adorned by a smirk yet it still holds a bored expression.

"You saved my life, consider this as evening out the odds."

You ponder at his offer. This can't be that easy. He's the new head of Camorra as well as a newly installed member of the High Table. There's a tension filling up the air. 

"What's in it for you?" you turn your whole body in his direction and lean in closer. "A person like you will take up any opportunity to get something in return."

He holds your gaze. Those emerald eyes just burning into yours.

"Maybe I have a change of heart… due to recent events." his gaze moves momentarily to John while he and Winston watch this whole interaction with worried looks. 

"So? What say you?"

"You don't have to if you don't want to." John calmly says. He shifts as if ready to fight at any moment.

"I don't have much of a choice." you turn to him. Your brows drawn together. 

"And I think that me going with him - a boss of one the feared mafias - is the only reasonable option."

"Reasonable option? You know who he is, what makes you think that he won't use you for his needs." Winston protested at your response. 

"You said it yourself, I don't have any coins on me so I can't stay here. And I'm sure that sooner or later the High Table will find out of what happened here or rather almost happened, so... I could use some form of protection." 

What if I stay here with no way to get back home? you wonder. You're an outsider here, no one would think twice before killing you. You don't matter here. It's the only choice. Might try and take an advantage of it.

"Very well, that's your choice. But remember that I warned you." Winston says as he rises up from his seat, adjusting his suit. John stands up as well giving one final look in Santino's direction. 

A warning.

When they're both gone you relax your tensed muscles with a small grunt. 

"Well, that went better than I expected." you sigh.

Santino still stares at the spot above where both of the men just disappeared.

"Ah, yes, Winston prefers to play by the rules, so does John… to an extent." 

The man turns his head to the forgotten glass and drinks the rest of the wine. His movements slow, measured.

You look around the lounge, the quiet is deafening. It's just the two of you. 

He stands up from his seat, the sheer of elegance just reeking off of him. He fixes his suit before reaching his hand to you. 

"Shall we?" 

You think before taking his hand.

What have I gotten myself into?

I'm making a deal with the devil here.

You take his hand. Feeling the warmth coming from his palm. 

"Where are we going?"

"Home, cara. I don't own properties only in Italy."

[yukiobeyme]

Hi there! Just wondering if you could possibly write hcs for trans Beel or trans Satan? But if you can’t that’s fine.

I am supposed to doing my Civil Engineering HW? Yes.

I am coming back from the dead to answer this? Yes.

Can I talk about Trans!Beel and Trans!Satan all day? God Yes. Please ask me more talk to more about LGBTQIA+ and how it fits in Obey Me!

Thank you so much I hope I do this some justice. I am sorry how it got so long, but I got in the groove for this and I just came up with other ideas

Beel has some implied body issues, mention of top surgery and T-shots

So you more or less got Satan’s coming out story, I could have just written it as a fic and it would have probably been shorter and more concise. But I did add other headcanons as well and accidentally hc how Satan got his everyday outfit.

*Also disclaimer: Satan’s hc focus a lot on Parrotfish by Ellen Wittlinger being a gateway for him figuring out his identity. I have heard of it and seen both good and bad reviews. I recognize that some bad reviews implied that there are possibly inaccurate stereotypes but was a good starting point to introducing Trans Characters to fiction. I have never read it and can not confirm or deny what the reviews say.

Beelzebub:

From a young age he wondered why and how Belphegor were twins when he was a girl.

It caused a distaste in his mouth but more often than not he pushed it away.

 It wasn’t until the Fall; did he finally act on it.

The first time he was called “sir” his heart almost burst out of his chest

 He immediately told a sleepily Belphegor about it, he figured he wouldn’t remember in the morning

 But boy was he wrong, it turns out Belphegor laid awake after Beel told him that. In the morning they talked about it again. Belphie offered his full support.

Belphie became Beel biggest piece in his support system. Like sure a lot of problems, he said maybe a nap or food would help. But it turns out he was right? (Well for the most part) but whenever Beel felt like everyone hated him and judging him, Belphie would wrap him up in the softest blanket in the house and they would take a nap together. Or when Beel seemed to be angry at everything and hated everyone, Belphie pulled him to the kitchen and made his favorite meal.

Randomly one day Belphie asked about how Beel felt about himself. “Like it doesn’t matter if you pass in someone else’s eyes or not, but do you like how you look?”

That’s when Beelz really got into bodybuilding and weightlifting

While he didn’t necessarily come out to the rest of the brothers, but none of them came out as cis so he wasn’t going to go out of his way and come out as trans

“working your legs naturally helps build more testosterone, so does eating eggs,” it was Satan that told him shyly behind a book if Beelz noticed that Satan was eating more eggs and even doing leg exercising he said nothing

Satan and Beel would have random conversations about gender and identity. Most times Belphie sat in on it. Asking questions or making comments.

Before he got top surgery, he would wear full-body binders, he had a standard black and white, but he also had an orange one. Completely confident to wear them by themselves.

 After top surgery, he showed off (as he should)

Takes pride in his body and the work and effort he put into it. To make it his own.

·         T shots doesn’t help with his appetite at all, the horror that went through the house when the avatar of gluttony appetite almost doubled. After a few weeks, it averaged out to be just a little more than pre-T but the brothers none the less both impressed and mortified

Belphie immediately opened his closet to Beel, like Beel occasionally stole clothes before, but this time Belphie made sure that Beel knew whatever he wanted he could take.

Asmo was definitely down to help Beel with shopping, but he turned him down. Favoring to go with Belphie

Faced little backlash, only some sports watchers had problems with it but were quickly shut down. Though even after all these centuries some people still have problems. But Beel has learned to keep his head high but knows he is allowed to be upset and hurt by their words. But he also knows he can go to any of his brothers for comfort and to regroup.

Beelz doesn’t get the same attention and attraction that Satan does, but he doesn’t mind. Though when he sees younger lgbtqia+ looking in awe at him at the gym, he usually swings by to see if they have any questions or need tips.

Okay, wait hear me out… Definitely created a club specifically for lgbtqia+ to have the gym and exercise together. Whether it was leading a class, he has gotten Asmo to lead a few yoga/ meditations or letting them break out into groups and giving them tips on stance or what exercises could build muscles to help them pass. But most importantly teaches/reminds everyone that their body is their own. That no matter what happened to them, their body is theirs. It can look however they want and even if it doesn’t look perfect, it is still is worthy of love and self-care. “The only opinions that matter is your own, it is your body. Claim and make it your own. No one can take it away from you”

Satan offered to let him borrow Parrotfish, Beel isn’t too interested but Belphie wanted to read it to him.

Overall Beel is confident and comfortable with his body and his identity. On his bad days, he knows he has endless support from Belphie and his other brothers.

 Satan:

You know that feeling when something clicks and its that chilling calm that covers your body? Satan was reading a random book, Parrotfish by Ellen Wittlinger.

First came out to Asmodeus, because Satan knew Asmo would accept him and help him in whatever way Asmo could.

And of course, Satan was nervous because Asmo couldn’t go to the others not yet. Satan planned it out that Lucifer was on Earth and expected to be there for a week, so Satan had time to execute his plan.

Asmo was worried when Satan came to him all serious. Well, Satan is always serious but this time the nervousness and lack of confidence made Asmodeus sit still and hold his breath. Asmodeus was attentive as Satan slowly stumbled through his prepared speech, which mainly focused on talking about the book he had just finished.

 Asmo didn’t understand until he saw how heartbroken and lost Satan looked. He was frantic in a sense and blurted out something along the lines of, “So, you wish you were a parrotfish?” while it wasn’t necessarily the best thing to say, the laugh it go out of Satan and the uncertainty in his smile was worth it.

Asmodeus took it upon himself to go shopping for Satan, getting him new more masculine clothes.

It was Levi that got Satan’s his first Binder, “A lot of cosplayers wear them, so you should be okay for some light exercising in it”

Soon all the brothers, well except Lucifer knew and the day Lucifer came back, Satan hid and avoided him.

Satan should have known better, but he was still surprised when Lucifer summoned for him

He was terrified.

When he entered the room, he couldn’t meet Lucifer’s eyes. But when he spared the glance, he saw the disappointment in Lucifer’s eye. Satan tried to swallow around the lump in his throat and ignore the burning in his eyes.

“What are you wearing?” Not exactly what Satan thought Lucifer was going to say first. “Was it Asmodeus?” “Ugh” Lucifer shook his head and strolled to his closet and threw the door open and went searching for something. “Ah, there it is,” Lucifer returned with a yellow sweater. “This would be more suiting for you,” Lucifer offered the sweater to Satan.

“You aren’t mad?”

“The only thing I’m relatively mad at is how offensive that outfit is,”

“I might have shoes too, but they might be a little big on you,”

Satan left wearing his new sweater and shoes on, laughing how he had to keep a black undershirt on, and the shoes flopped due to being too big. But he left with a lot of weight off his shoulders and high in spirits.

That sweater is the famous one you still see him wear today. He wonders why Lucifer would have such a bright color and when he asked Lucifer just made a face and rolled his eyes as he replied with “Asmodeus thought I needed to brighten my wardrobe.”

 Satan loves it, its soft and bright. It’s a little too low cut for his liking but an undershirt fixed that problem. And it doesn’t hug his chest and honestly, it’s his favorite piece of clothing

 Parrotfish is a permanent book in his room and he reads it once a year. And has special scenes marked, so he can go back and read certain passages when needed

Once Satan came out to Barbatos and Diavolo they both requested to read the book and met with him for tea to talk about the book and life.

Lucifer even snagged the book for a bit. (He tried to be sneaky about it and Satan pretended not to notice)

 Asmodeus and Mammon is chaotic with their support, it nice and needed but can also be overboard but he knows they do it out of love. Pride is a huge thing at the house and Asmo decided to do a gender reveal party for Satan

Beelzebub, Belphegor and Levi are supportive like they are ready to fight anyone who gives Satan any issues about his gender and gender identity, but they are as obnoxious as Asmo and Mammon. They will sit with him, talk to him, or just quietly listen. Most times they can’t offer help and admit they don’t know what to say other then they are here for him and willing to listen to whatever he needs to talk about.

Lucifer is quiet support. At first, Satan thought he didn’t approve but then Lucifer would make a random statement or ask for clarification that made Satan feel comfortable. Lucifer glared at anyone who even thought about giving Satan a weird look.

Satan’s go to binder color is a light grey and most times it just a crop top rather than a full-body one. Though he has an aqua blue one he wears occasionally. (I have a drawing of this somewhere lmao)

Satan tried to give himself his first haircut but Asmo had to come in and fix up the mess and disaster he created. Sure, his hair was way too short for his liking, but it wasn’t long anymore.

Over the years has learned the different meanings behind the looks he gets, whether it’s in disgust or that longing look that demons that aren’t out give him. He somehow occasionally becomes a dad to other trans! Demons. Whether it's long talks or if it's just quick tips that help him through the years.

Ironically enough, Lucifer is his biggest support or the one he relies on the most during days or moments when Satan feels terrible. Because Lucifer won’t be fussing all over him or beat around the bush about it. Sometimes he will state he too busy to talk but will leave and come back with hot tea and Satan’s favorite biscuits. Lucifer sometimes sends him away to grab his homework and they will just work in silence together. While Satan hates to admit how much he appreciates Lucifer for these moments, it helps a lot.

Last one! The first formal after Satan came out, he realized he didn’t have clothes for it. Out of all the styles and outfits he had gotten nothing formal ever came through. His brothers came through though. Asmo couldn’t convince him on any of his extra formal wear so he went around finding pieces that the other brothers weren’t using. Satan was only missing a jacket, but the outfit looked perfect. When he ran into Lucifer, Lucifer brought him to his room and offered him one of his simpler jackets and touch him how to pin it to tailor the sleeves to a better height.

[angelofthequeers]

Little Devil

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

You know, if Adrien didn’t just sit by and be an enabler. And if Chloé’s character development actually stuck. And if the writers could actually write consistent characterisation.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Alya to bits. But this girl was so wildly OOC in this episode that it’s not funny. I also like all the other classmates. But since it’s Chloé’s POV, we all know our blonde bitch will take any chance she gets to drag them.

The fic idea came from @gale-of-the-nomads and Little Devil from @zoe-oneesama (in case you want a picture reference). And @angel-of-death-2015 requested a tag in this here saltfic, so here you are! Part 2 coming tomorrow when I’ve caught up on sleep!

Part 2 | AO3 link

This is ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous! Okay, so Chloé doesn’t like Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and you’d have to be an idiot to not realise that by now. But if there’s one person that Chloé dislikes more than Marinette, it’s that serial liar Lila Rossi.

Actually, scratch that. Chloé doesn’t even really care about Marinette anymore. Hell, after all that stuff Marinette had done to get Chloé’s maman to like her and then throw that party for Queen Bee, Chloé’s inclined to think that Marinette is average. Not worth her attention, whether positive or negative, even though Chloé had been a bitch about the macarons on Heroes’ Day (but then Marinette had invited her to the picnic, so. Yeah.). And sure, Marinette’s crushing on Adrien – really, who wouldn’t crush on him, that’s just common sense – but she doesn’t hang off him like some kind of…ugh, leech. Even Chloé’s not as touchy as this Lila girl, who had practically been sitting in Adrien’s lap in class.

And really, Chloé has a right to be so physically affectionate with Adrien. They’re childhood friends, after all. She’s started to suspect that he’s not really that into it, but that’s something they can deal with another day. Right now, the problem is Lila Rossi. More specifically, how everyone in the class seems to be under some sort of spell or something, because how else would they swallow these utterly ridiculous lies?

Hmm. Maybe Lila’s just a permanent akuma from now on, with the power to make anyone believe her ridiculous lies. Queen Bee should really investigate that…with a few small hits to make sure. But Chloé can’t really go Queen Bee right now, so it’s time for the next best thing: the enemy of her enemy is her temporary ally. And that ally just happens to be one Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“Ugh, really,” Chloé scoffs, shattering the silence. Having taken the cafeteria by surprise, the attention is now on Chloé, just as it should be.

“Is there a problem, Chloé?” Lila says, all sickly sweet and pathetic. Ugh, really. At least Chloé doesn’t have to tell so many lies for attention; that just comes naturally when you’re the mayor’s daughter. Small lies, sure, but at least she can say she’s not Liar Rossi.

“Duh,” Chloé drawls. She pushes her gourmet lunch from her personal chef away and stands up, hands on her hips, her lip curling at how everyone’s crowded around Lila to cater to her every whim like Sabrina does for Chloé. The difference is that Chloé actually gives half a fig for Sabrina, whereas Lila clearly doesn’t give a damn about any of these losers. “The problem is what’s wrong with all of you.”

“What’s wrong with us?” Alya says. Hmm. Some best friend to Marinette she is. “You’re one to talk, Chloé!”

“At least I’m not two-faced to my friends,” Chloé says. “Sabrina knows what she’s signing up for by being my best friend, though I’m not so sure I like how she’s fawning over Lila like that when she’s supposed to be fawning over me.” She puts on a look of exaggerated thought. “But I don’t think Marinette expected this from her friends…if you can even call yourselves that.”

There’s predictably immediate uproar, which Chloé drinks in with a smug smile on her face. Chaos is absolutely beautiful. Cause enough of it and you can pretty much get away with anything while everyone’s distracted by their hurt feelings. Lila just stares back evenly, the look in her eyes promising that somewhere, sometime, Chloé will pay for this.

Which would be a lot more intimidating if Chloé hadn’t mastered that look for herself, to be honest. What could this pathetic liar do to her, Chloé Bourgeois?

“Oh, come on,” Alya scoffs. “Like you care about Marinette. You’re just jealous of Lila because you’re not the centre of attention anymore.”

Chloé lets herself laugh at that because honestly, she doesn’t give a damn about Lila. Maybe if Lila was actually a credible threat. But really, Chloé can disprove half her lies on the very spot; she’d just rather not until she absolutely has to get her hands dirty. Make everyone stew just that bit longer.

“You’re right,” she says. “I don’t really care all that much about Marinette. But at least I’m honest about it. I don’t go calling myself her friend and then turning my back as soon as some lame new girl shows up.”

“Hey!” Kim says. “We didn’t turn our backs –”

“No, stop,” Lila sniffles. A tear slides down her cheek and it’s all Chloé can do to not double over laughing at how obviously fake it all is. “Chloé has a point. I didn’t mean to take Marinette’s friends from her –”

“Dude, you didn’t take us,” Nino says. “You needed help because of your ear and wrist.”

“Yeah!” Rose pipes up. “Marinette’s just upset. But she’ll come around! And then she’ll just love being your friend!”

“Oh, this is priceless!” Chloé laughs, wiping a tear from her eye. “Do you even hear yourselves? ‘Marinette will come around, then she’ll love being your friend!’ She can’t stand Lila!”

“And I don’t understand why,” Lila says, delicately dabbing her nose with a napkin with the hand that Chloé’s pretty sure is the one she claimed had arthritis. “I’ve tried to be nice to her! I want so badly to be her friend, but I guess some people are just incompatible…”

Chloé laughs even harder. “Oh. My. God. How am I the one defending Marinette while the rest of you treat her like some horrible person because she’s the only one smart enough to see through Lila?”

“You’re just defending her because she’s acting like you,” Alix says, her arms crossed. “Now that she’s started being mean to Lila because she’s jealous that Lila’s sitting next to the guy she likes, I bet you think she’s just the best person ever.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Chloé says. “I don’t even like Marinette.”

“No, really?” Juleka mutters.

“In fact, I have a whole list of reasons why I don’t like her,” Chloé declares. “Sabrina can back me up there. But you know what isn’t one of those reasons? Being a bully. If there’s any one person out of the lot of you who’s least likely to be a bully, it’s Marinette.”

“But Adrien –”

“Think, people!” Chloé interrupts Rose. “Is Marinette really the kind of person to be mean to someone over a crush?”

Most of the class looks like they still want to demonise Marinette in favour of Lila, but it’s Mylène who looks down and mumbles, “We did try to help her talk to Adrien. But she told us to stop because he liked Kagami and she didn’t want to get between them.”

Chloé files that nice bit of information away in case she needs to deal with Marinette later, although it probably won’t be for a while if this lot are any indication. She and Marinette may never end up friends, but it might be wise to call a truce while Lila’s around. “So, you know Marinette wouldn’t be mean to someone because she’s jealous,” she says. “But you still rushed to kiss up to Lila because she told you a few cool stories?”

“I can understand why you’d doubt me,” Lila says, still putting on her pathetic ‘woe is me’ air. “I know a few of my experiences sound pretty outlandish –”

“That’s an understatement,” Chloé says. “How anyone believed those utterly ridiculous stories is beyond me. And see, as soon as anyone calls you out, you cry and whine and act like a baby to make people feel sorry for you. And it works! Now everyone hates Marinette. And now everyone hates me even more, not that I really care.” Actually, she does, if her outburst to Ladybug when her father had been akumatised is any indication. But they don’t need to know that. “I hope you’re all happy with yourselves.”

Though everyone’s still glaring at Chloé, there’s a far less hostile atmosphere. In fact, the cafeteria is starting to feel shameful rather than angry, like everyone’s beginning to realise that Chloé’s right. Of course she is. She’s grown up around people like Lila all her life, who’ll say and do anything to win over others for their own use. And while Chloé’s never had the subtlety to do it herself, she’s very much familiar with the whole backstabbing business of it. One wrong move and you’re done for. Unfortunately for Lila, Chloé doesn’t care about being subtle and not making enemies, because at least she knows where she stands with people while being nasty to their face.

“You told Marinette that a journalist always uses sources,” Chloé says to Alya, recognising this as the time to strike. “Did you use any sources, Ladyblogger? Or did you just believe Lila because she told you what you want to hear?”

“Excuse me?” Alya looks like she wants to spit nails.

“You believed a random girl over your own friend!” Chloé says gleefully. “Your best friend! You didn’t even look for sources yourself like a good journalist would! And hmm…Marinette’s the one who searched for sources on Heroes’ Day, right? She did your job for you and you ignored her. Because she was just jealous.”

The look of dawning horror on Alya’s face is absolutely beautiful. “I –”

“My daddy’s the one who invited Prince Ali here last time,” Chloé says, her entire body about to float away from just how perfect this all is. “All I had to do was ask him and he said there was no way that Prince Ali could’ve invited a commoner like Lila to be his personal guest. The timing doesn’t work out. And I’m sure that Rose could call him up and ask, since they’re just the best of friends.”

“I told you,” Lila insists, shedding a little of her pathetic air, while Rose looks away. “He never said that he’d be in the country with us.”

“Okay, whatever,” Chloé says. “But even if Marinette can’t prove that, what about Jagged Stone’s kitten? Isn’t Marinette the one with Jagged Stone’s phone number? Didn’t she design his album cover? Couldn’t you have asked her to check with him?”

A wide-eyed Alya says nothing, so Chloé goes in for the kill, revelling in how obviously Lila is trying to hide her panic.

“And even if you didn’t do that, you’re the Ladyblogger, right? Ladybug talks to you. Why don’t you just ask Ladybug if she’s Lila’s best friend? After all, a journalist always checks her sources! But sure,” Chloé shrugs, “Lila’s totally telling the truth.”

“Leave her alone!” Nino growls when Alya backs away from Chloé and turns away, her face twitching and eyes shining suspiciously. “Why do you have to be so mean, Chloé?”

“Mean?” Chloé smirks. “For once, I’m not being mean. I’m being honest. But you can’t handle that. And Alya’s not the only one who turned her back on Marinette, so she’s not the only one to blame. You all made up a whole seating plan to cater to one person without even asking the one being kicked to the back.”

“I have to sit up the front!” Lila says. “My tinnitus –”

“Oh, I can’t prove that’s fake, as much as we both know it is,” Chloé says. “And I’m not mean enough to accuse someone of faking a disability. But you and I both know that the only reason you wanted that seat was to sit next to Adrikins. And your ‘disability’ isn’t even the problem. It’s how everyone here made plans without even asking Marinette if she was okay with being pushed into the back row, then turned on her as soon as she asked why it was her who had to go when she wasn’t asked in the first place. She didn’t even say anything about Lila’s hearing!”

“I offered to sit up the back because I felt bad that I’d caused that trouble,” Lila says with a well-timed head droop.

“No, you said that to make Marinette look like the nasty bad guy so everyone would hate her more,” Chloé says. “My maman is Audrey Bourgeois. Do you really think I don’t know how this works? You suck.” Her eyes sweep over all her stunned classmates, who are standing there with open mouths like some sort of hive mind. Ha, hive mind. Her sense of humour is as impeccable as her sense of fashion. “You all suck. Especially if you believe some story about napkin balls cutting eyeballs out that even I know is fake, and I don’t even do my own homework. And the funny thing is that it took me to tell you all this and I’m not even Marinette’s friend! In fact, hasn’t she always stood up for all of you against me? And the only time you’ve paid her back is by helping her with a picnic where you got to eat her food anyway.”

“W-Where are you going?” Rose says in a high, unstable voice when Chloé starts to walk off. Chloé turns back around.

“To find Marinette and kick some sense into her, seeing as none of her friends seem to want to do that. Also, thanks for ruining my lunch. I can hardly eat it now that it’s cold.”

Chloé whips her ponytail around in a move honed over years and walks out of the cafeteria. No one says anything as she goes. They probably all hate her even more than usual, not that Chloé really cares right now. She’s used to being hated, and she’s too drunk on the high of actually being in the right for once. Now to find Marinette and kick a spine into her.

“Chloé?” she hears as soon as she leaves the cafeteria. When she turns and sees Adrien standing behind the door, she can’t help but beam.

“Adrikins!” she chirps, immediately rushing to his side. When he gives her the same look that he gave Lila, however, she forces herself not to throw herself all over him. Maybe all she needed was to see someone else do it to realise. “Please tell me you don’t believe Lila and her awful lies!”

“I heard what you said in there,” Adrien says. “And I think you could’ve been nicer about it but…you were right. Everyone did wrong by Marinette.”

“Not you,” Chloé insists, looping their arms together to pull him in the direction of the bathroom, where Marinette’s probably hiding out. There’s really nowhere else she can be, since bathrooms seem to be a magnet for crying teenage girls. “You didn’t say anything mean to her, Adrien!”

“But I didn’t stand up for her,” Adrien says. He looks down, green eyes crinkled and mouth drooping, and the urge to slap Lila for all the trouble she’s caused grows even stronger in Chloé at the sight. “I should have said something. I should have offered to sit with her at the back of the class. I knew Lila had a problem with lying – I should have said something then –”

“And had her make you look bad too?” Chloé says. “Please. It’s not your fault.”

Adrien doesn’t say anything to that, so Chloé just harrumphs and hopes that an akuma doesn’t come flapping its way in because if Queen Bee has to beat on her Adrikins then there’s going to be hell to pay. When they finally reach the girls’ bathroom, he freezes on the spot.

“I can’t go in there!” he says. “I’m a boy –”

“Adrien, if Harry and Ron can go into the girls’ bathroom to save Hermione or make some potion, you can go in there and cheer Marinette up before she gets akumatised and wrecks the school,” Chloé says. Adrien stares at her. “What? I saw the movies. And I’m not as dumb as people think I am. Come on.”

“I never thought you were dumb!” Adrien protests as Chloé pulls him into the bathroom. There’s no one in there, but one of the stalls is closed and Chloé can hear faint sniffles from behind the door.

“Dupain-Cheng!” Chloé announces, her voice echoing off the tiles. “You better come out right now.”

“C-Chloé?” Marinette’s voice is thick and wet. “Go away. I can’t deal with you right now.”

“Marinette, Chloé’s here to help,” Adrien says soothingly, like he’s talking to an animal about to spook. Judging from the gasp from inside the stall, Chloé thinks she’s pretty spot-on with that simile.

Yes, she knows what a simile is. Just because she makes Sabrina do her homework doesn’t mean she doesn’t actually learn the stuff. She just can’t be bothered doing the work.

“A-Adrien?” Marinette squeaks. “But – but this is the girls’ –”

“Who cares what bathroom this is?” Chloé says. “Look, Marinette, I just lectured our whole class and made an enemy of Lila, so you’d better get out here this second.”

Honestly, it’s probably shock that gets Marinette to open her stall door, but Chloé doesn’t care what it is. All she knows is that the lurch in her gut at seeing Marinette with red-rimmed eyes and a wet face should not be there because she so doesn’t care about Marinette at all.

And yet, a small part of her can’t help wondering if this is how she’s made Marinette feel with her own meanness. It’s not exactly that good a feeling. Ugh, is this what it’s like to actually care about other people?

“You – you did that?” Marinette looks from Chloé to Adrien, seeking proof that Chloé’s telling the truth.

“She did,” Adrien says with a small smile. He unloops his arm from Chloé’s so that he can wrap it around Marinette, who squeaks and flushes brightly and accidentally pushes her damp handkerchief into Adrien’s chest. “Chloé was amazing. She told everyone exactly what they did wrong, especially how they could’ve just asked you about Jagged Stone’s kitten or Ladybug about being Lila’s friend. And she also made them see that it was wrong to not ask you if you could sit up the back because they all thought you were angry at Lila’s disability.”

“It wasn’t that!” Marinette bursts out. “I never said she didn’t have it! She just – and everyone believed her, when she’s done nothing but lie but I always help everyone – oh, I’m sorry!” She covers her face with her hands. “I shouldn’t be acting so entitled –”

“Marinette, shut up,” Chloé says. “You’re allowed to stand up for yourself.”

“Especially after everything you’ve done for everyone,” Adrien says. “I meant it when I said you’re our real-life Ladybug.”

The bell ringing at that moment drowns out Marinette’s squeak. Adrien looks around at the door, panicked.

“I can’t miss class,” he says wildly. “My father would be furious if he knew I skipped class to comfort a friend. But I can’t just leave Marinette –”

“Go to class, Adrikins,” Chloé says. “I’ll stay here and talk some sense into her. And the principal wouldn’t dare punish me for missing class or I’ll tell my daddy.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please go!” Marinette lets out another squeak. “I mean, don’t go – I mean – I don’t want you to miss class because of me!”

Adrien looks torn but, with one last squeeze, he lets go of Marinette and heads for the door. As soon as he’s gone, Marinette squints at Chloé.

“Why are you doing this?” she says. “Why would you stand up for me?”

“Because I hate Lila more than I hate you,” Chloé says. Before she can launch into some speech about calling a truce because they both hate Lila’s lies, there’s the sound of fluttering and Marinette shrieks and jumps away from Chloé.

“Akuma!” the noirette cries, backing away into a corner of the bathroom.

“Damn it, Marinette, stop being upset!” Chloé snaps, her eyes flitting to the bathroom door so that she can make sure she’s got enough time to run if Marinette gets akumatised.

“I’m trying!” Marinette wails, waving her handkerchief in front of her. “I’ve tried breathing – I’ve tried thinking happy thoughts – but I can’t help it this time! I’m sorry!”

Okay, wow, Lila is so going to pay for this because Chloé totally didn’t sign up for an akumatisation today. She backs out of the room, determined not to be the first victim, but she pauses outside the door and peers inside when Marinette does something strange. As though resigning herself to the akuma, Marinette stops trying to get away and instead, yanks her earrings out and flings them into a corner of the bathroom a split second before the akuma hits her handkerchief. Chloé’s distracted from the oddness of the action by Marinette sliding to the floor, whimpering and tugging at her hair as a purple outline appears over her face.

“No!” she shouts. “Leave me alone, Hawkmoth!”

Wow, is Marinette actually going to fight this off? Chloé sure hopes so. Her nails were just done yesterday.

“I don’t want your power!”

But Chloé can see the exact moment when Marinette is overcome by Hawkmoth’s sheer will. Not that she can blame Marinette, really. Chloé’s been subject to it three times and she hadn’t even tried to fight (though to be fair, she’d been hit by Despair Bear and Dark Cupid the third time). Hawkmoth can be super persuasive, especially with all the negativity amplified by ten and surging through you when the akuma hits.

“This isn’t even my fault for once!” Chloé whines softly when Marinette’s head whips up, an uncharacteristically dark smile spread wide across her face, and she’s engulfed in dark purple and black from head to toe.

When the akuma magic fades away, the thing floating in the bathroom is nothing but an ugly mockery of Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Her skin is now a blood red, her eyes still bright blue but the whites now burnt yellow. Her pigtails look sharper, more like downward-pointing horns, while she has little horns poking up that look like hair but, knowing Hawkmoth, are probably real horns. She’s wearing a black one-piece that ends in short shorts and T-shirt sleeves, with thigh-high black boots and gloves a darker red than her skin, with hearts cut out of the back of her gloves and dotting her suit. And on her back are little black devil wings, though they’re probably not keeping her afloat since they’re not flapping. It takes Chloé a moment to locate the akumatised handkerchief tied around Marinette’s throat like a cravat, and she’s just wondering if she can somehow grab it without getting herself hurt when Marinette lets out a loud laugh and floats to the door, slamming it open and sending Chloé crashing to the ground.

“I am Little Devil!” Marinette announces, her voice warped deeply and horribly from the voice that Chloé knows. Chloé idly notices that she has a narrow black tail, like Chat Noir’s but ending in a love heart-shaped point, just like the pitchfork she’s carrying. “You want me to be the bad guy? Fine. Now I’m the bad guy.”

[jamesashtonisbae]

That I Did Always Love

Word Count: 3,664

Pairing: James x MC (Lacey), Becca x Zig, Abbie x Tyler, Kaitlyn x Anissa

Rating: M

Warnings: Language, sexual content

Summary: It’s Lacey’s senior year, and she and James have been together since she was a freshman.  They’re in love with life and in love with each other.

Author’s Note: This is my first fic.  It is probably terrible.  The tenses are probably all screwed up.  No one is probably going to read it.  But here it is anyway!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong to pixelberry studios.  This is based on The Freshman Series.

…

Lacey was curled up under a blanket on the couch in her and James’s apartment.  A mug of coffee sat on the end table next to her as she flipped through The New York Times.  As she began to read the Lifestyle section her phone chirped with a message from Kaitlyn.

-hey, want to go to the salon today? Abbie, Becca, and I need our nails done asap.  You should join.  Going at 10!

Lacey considered it for a moment, trying to think through her day.  She and James had made plans later that afternoon to go walk through the park and check out some of the new food trucks there.  He was out that morning to get some writing done at his favorite coffee shop, so she was free for hours.

-sure, see you at 10!

She got up from her couch after briefly skimming an article on the benefits of buying a houseplant, lifted her kitten Austen off of her lap, and maneuvered to the kitchen without stepping on their puppy Poe.  

“House plant?” she wrote on the marker board on their fridge before cleaning out her mug and putting it in the dishwasher.  Poe yapped at her feet, looking up at her with his big brown eyes. Lacey laughed and reached down to pat his head.

“Dad will be back at noon, I know he’s your favorite.”

As she moved down the hallway toward the bedroom, Poe followed, his energy astounding. Quickly, Lacey slipped through the door and closed it behind her, keeping Poe from coming in with her. With a laugh, she peered into her lobster Gerald’s tank and noted he was sleeping, sort of, on the bottom.

“Oh, Gerald.  You sweet, simple boy.  Some days I want your life.”

Lacey shed her silk robe and pulled on a pair of light wash jeans, then her favorite pair of knee high brown suede boots.  She slipped into a navy cropped turtle neck, then put on the gold studs James had got her for their third anniversary.  A final glance in the mirror revealed she was ready, and so she pulled on her maroon trench jacket and her slate gray bag.  

She hurried out the door, kissing both of her fur babies on the way out.  Lacey scurried to the first floor of the apartment complex and hustled to her car.  Traffic was light, and she made her way to the nail salon in no time.

“Lacey!” Kaitlyn was the first to greet her, rushing over with more gusto than necessary at 10 am.

“Hey girls!  It’s so good that the gang is back together again!”

“Lacey, how are you?” Becca said, slipping an arm around Lacey’s shoulder and pulling her into her side.

“Good, Bex.  How are you?”

“I’m great.  Just finished up my last midterm yesterday, so I’m rewarding myself with a one day break from all things law school!”

“Well, that’s good!”

Abbie put her arms around the three girls, her curls tickling Lacey’s neck.

Lacey let out a laugh, “It is so good to see you all again.  I feel like I just hang out with James now.  And don’t get me wrong, I love the man, but sometimes I just need girl time.”

“Please, as if any of us have ever doubted for a second that you love James Ashton. That boy has got you wrapped around his finger,” Abbie added.

The four girls had made their way over to the nail stations and were each getting their hands cleaned.  Lacey had decided on a classic French tip, which was her go to.

“So tell me, how are things going?  I want juicy deets!”  Becca said, “From all of you!  Abbie, go!”

“Well, Tyler and I have been talking a lot about post-graduation things, and we’re thinking of moving to San Francisco.  His family is out there, he would be close to Silicon Valley, and I’m actually getting really into graffiti-style art, so that would be a cool place to study that and incorporate it into my repertoire, ya know?”

“What? San Francisco? Abbie that’s amazing!” Kaitlyn said, almost shouting, “but are you guys talking about the M word?”

Abbie quirked an eyebrow at Kaitlyn.

“Marriage,” Becca explained.

“Oh! Yes we have, we think it’s still a few years off for us actually.  We’re very happy, but just don’t see the need to move into that step right now. And we want to make a little money first so we can have a ridiculous wedding.”

“And Kaitlyn?  How are things?”

“Wow. So the band is great.  We’re getting ready for the tour over Thanksgiving. It’s going to be something new, pretty challenging, you know, all of that fun stuff, but I’m excited to see how we grow.  Plus, Anissa’s amazing, and we’ll get to spend more time with each other.”

“So things are going well there?” Lacey asked.

“Very well.  I guess, I do have one question, since the three of you are very sensual ladies. It’s pretty weird, but you know me, I’m just going to ask.”

“Kaitlyn, nothing you ask me could ever shock me, just go ahead,” Lacey added.

“So like, obviously it’s kind of different for me, since I’m with a woman and you all are with dudes, but like, what are your thoughts on butt stuff?”

Becca laughed, Abbie’s eyes widened, and Lacey shook her head, “Zero percent of me is shocked by this, Kaitlyn.”

“Well,” Becca began, “Zig and I don’t really do a lot of it.  I mean, when I give him BJs I definitely finger him sometimes, if that’s what you’re asking.  He goes crazy for it.  Nothing vice versa though.”

“Like no pegging or anything though?”

“No. Not that either of us would be opposed, just that our sex life is very satisfactory the way that it is.”

“Cool. Good to know.  Abbie?”

“God, I never thought I’d talk about this with anyone other than Tyler.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Nah, I will.  We don’t do pegging, but I’ve let him try anal a couple of times.  Both of us kind of like it.  He always goes down on me after, so that’s why I am unopposed.”

“Lacey?”

Lacey let out a short laugh, “Well, for starters, James is huge, so if we’re going to do it anal, we have to decide like two days before and I’ll wear butt plugs so that he doesn’t split me like a rail.  But when we do, I use a vibrator, which he loves, but we both come together at the very least, but yeah, he goes down on me when we’re done. Granted, he goes down on me an average of ten times a week.”

“Just how much sex do you guys have?” Becca asked.

“Lots. Like more than multiple times a day.”

“When was the last time you had sex?”

“This morning in the shower.”

“And before that?”

“Before we got in the shower when we woke up.”

“You guys have been together for four years!  How do you have it so often?”

“Literally nothing is off the table.  Except for sharing.  We won’t share each other.  We tried it once and it was not good.”

“Wait, with who?” Kaitlyn asked, curious.

“I don’t know if this will shock you or not, but it was with Logan.”

“What?” Becca exclaimed.  “Wait, how was it?  What happened?”

“Well, Logan and James didn’t touch each other, but Logan definitely went down on me while I gave James a BJ, and then they double teamed me, Logan in my ass and James inside me.  It was incredible, but he was very jealous seeing another guy please me, so we agreed never again.”

“Lacey, you are a minx!” Abbie exclaimed.

“Well…”

“No, you are.  No one would know by how prim and proper you are, but damn you are a sexual goddess. No wonder James will do anything for you.”

“He does anything for me in the bedroom too.  And often.”

“So wait, what I’m hearing is, butt stuff isn’t horrible?” Kaitlyn brought it back.

“No, not at all.  Like what type of butt stuff?”

“Anissa got us strap-ons, so that type of butt stuff.”

“You may be into it, you may not be.  I like it a lot,” Lacey added.  “But I like almost everything James tries.”

“Weirdest sex thing – go,” Becca asked.

“Well, I think it was probably this time when we were cleaning and started getting down and dirty and he lay me down on our counter and used a broom handle on me. It was amazing, but really weird for sure.”

“How is anyone else’s weird sex thing supposed to compare to that?” Kaitlyn asked.

“It’s not.”

They spent the rest of the morning gabbing and catching up, although they’d hung out a few weeks prior.  It was hard for Lacey knowing that she didn’t get to see them as often as she had when they were younger.  But their time was special nonetheless.

When they were finished, and Lacey had impressively manicured French tips, Kaitlyn had black bedazzled nails, Abbie had hers painted maroon, and Becca had hers painted nude, they paid and ran to McDermot’s for a quick bite.  As Lacey sipped her second coffee of the day and tried to maintain a semi-healthy take on lunch, her friends filled her in on their plans for the day, all being pretty vague about their nights.

“Oh, I’m just going to hang out with some friends, I think,” Kaitlyn mentioned.

“I’ll probably head somewhere with Zig, I guess.”

“Yeah, Tyler and I might do something tonight.”

“Wow. That isn’t descriptive at all.  I guess if I don’t see you later, then I don’t. James and I are going to go try food trucks tonight and he mentioned inviting people over for drinks later. If you guys are free you should come.”

“I’ll talk to Tyler and we’ll see.”

“Yeah, I’ll run it by Zig and see what he has to say.”

“Anissa and I should be down later, we’ll let you know.”

“Okay, sounds good,” Lacey stood, “I guess I’ll be on my way then.  I’m going to run home and throw around some article ideas before we head out.  Bye!”

Lacey drove home, thinking about what she may want to eat.  She always wanted tacos, and food trucks never disappointed, but James always tried to pick out obscure ones for them to try together. Hopefully she’d be able to persuade him to get just one taco the whole night.

As she fumbled with her keys to get into her apartment, James opened the door for her.

“Oh! Thanks, Babe.”

“Anything for my sunshine,” he said, pressing a kiss to Lacey’s cheek.  “How was your morning?  Do anything fun?”

“Yeah, went to get my nails done with Abbie, Kaitlyn, and Becca.”

“Let me see.”

Lacey held out her hand, which James took with a smile of approval, “They look beautiful, much like the woman to whom they belong,” he pressed a kiss to her hand, her knuckles, the inside of her wrist, up her arm as far as he could underneath her sweater.  Then, he pulled her to him, slipping his hand under the hem of her sweater, pressing his lips to her neck.

“We have a couple of hours before we’re going out.  How would you like to spend them?”

“Remember that thing you did to me with the broom handle?”

“Mmm, how could I forget?” he murmured against her neck.

“Would you want to do it again?”

“Yes, god, yes.”

…

“James, please?  I just want a taco!” Lacey said, taking one hand in both of hers and tugging him towards the taco truck to their right.

“Lacey, we’ve gone over this.  You need to branch out, Sunshine.”

“I will, but I want a taco first!”

“You’re insatiable, and I love you.”

“So, I get a taco?” 

“As if I could deny the most stunning woman in the world what she desires.”

Lacey leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

She skipped over towards the taco truck, James’s hand in hers.  As he followed her, he thought to himself God, I could not love this woman any more.

They decided to get two pork al pastor tacos with pico de gallo and feta cheese. While they wandered through the park, they each took bites of the tacos and talked a bit about the article they had each read about houseplants.

“How long would it take for Poe to destroy a houseplant, though?” James asked.

“I mean, not very long, but he can’t climb on shelves or counters, so we could keep it like on the entertainment center or our dresser, don’t you think?”

“Why do you want a houseplant, anyway?”

“I don’t know, I really like the color green, and I feel like in an apartment it’s so easy to feel removed from nature, so we could kind of make up for it if we got a house plant, don’t you?”

“I suppose you’re right, my dear.  We should go to Earl May over fall break and try to find one we like.”

“I’ve already kind of started researching some that would be good for us.”

“Real research, or “Design your apartment and we’ll tell you what houseplant to get” quizzes on Buzzfeed?”

Lacey let out a quick laugh and leaned into James’s side as he wrapped an arm around her, “A little bit of both.”

“Good, because I only make life decisions with the help of Buzzfeed quizzes.”

“I love you so much, James Ashton.”

“Lacey Morgan, I love you too.”

She pressed her lips to his in a quick but sweet kiss.  He grinned down at her, marveling at the perfect woman in his arms. How he had gotten so lucky was beyond him.

“Now, will you please come try a different food truck with me?”

“Of course I will.  Which one, Babe?”

“That Greek one looks good.”

“You know how I feel about Greek food…” Lacey began.

James’s face fell, “You hate it, I know.”

“But you also know how I feel about you,” she kissed his cheek, “so I’ll happily try yet another gyro with dill sauce for you my sweet man.”

After sampling a few gyros and deciding she still hated them and he still loved them, Lacey and James made their way towards the fountain in the center of the park. Night was beginning to fall, but the park was still well lit and it was easy to see the newly changed trees. Reds, yellows, and oranges were splashed across the background behind the fountain, and Lacey sucked in a breath at the beauty.

“What’s wrong?” James asked, nervously shoving his hand that wasn’t holding hers into his pocket.

“Absolutely nothing.  Everything is perfect.  It’s so beautiful here.  I want to remember this night forever.  I want to be here with you forever.”

James chuckled nervously, sitting on a bench, “It is the most perfect night ever. It truly is.”

Lacey sat down next to him, wrapping her hands around his, “Are you okay?  You seem a bit off right now, Love.  What’s going on?”

He cleared his throat, then turned to face her, taking both of her hands in his, “Lacey, you are the greatest gift I’ve been given.  Knowing you has made me a better man than I ever thought possible. Every single day, I think of a new way that I fail you and a new way that you amaze me and think that I can never deserve you and the love you give me.  You know how much I love Emily Dickinson, I know how much you do, and when I think of you I cannot help but think of that night we spent reading poetry during the spring of your freshman year.  Do you remember the “That I did always love” poem?”

“As if I could forget,” Lacey whispered, reciting, “That I did always love, / I bring thee proof: / That till I loved / I did not love enough. / That I shall love alway, / I offer thee / That love is life, / And life hath immortality. / This, dost thou doubt, sweet? / Then have I / Nothing to show/ But Calvary.”

“What I didn’t know then was that I was going to reach a point where any life I imagined without you was one I did not want.  Where you go, where you belong, I am going to go with you.  You are the most important thing in my life, Lacey Jae Morgan.  I love you. I love your morning routine, the way you roll over and press yourself against me for five minutes before you quietly get up and shower.  When you wrap your hair up in your towel and slip on your silky robe, then go eat a muffin and drink the darkest, most disgusting coffee known to man while you read the Times.  I love how you talk to Poe, and Austen, and Gerald as if they are human.  You are so sweet and caring, and think of things I never would when it comes to what they need and what makes them comfortable.  I love how you help me with my writing.  You never tell me what to do, you always listen and get me to believe in myself.  You’re so capable, you could tell me what to do and it would be phenomenal, but you always ask me to find myself when I’m stuck.  You’ve never forced your way onto me, and at the same time I feel like I become more like you every day.  Because of you, I am kinder, wiser, more thoughtful, better with people, more open, more joyful.  You’re the sun, Lacey Jae Morgan.  When everything is dark, you’re the sun.”

By now, tears were streaming down Lacey’s cheeks.  She was holding onto James’s hands, her forehead pressed to his as she gazed at him.  She was so in love with this man, she couldn’t even think straight sometimes.  But here they were, in a park by a fountain, sharing one of the most special moments of their relationship.  James was baring his soul, but begging her not to respond.  A small piece of Lacey knew that he was not done with what he had to say just yet.

“Lacey Jae Morgan, you are my everything.  I cannot fathom anything without you.  Every piece of my life has been so touched by you, that I will never be the same.  And frankly, I don’t want to be the same.  I want to grow with you Lacey.  For the rest of my life.”

James let go of her hands and stood.  He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a box.  Lacey’s hands flew to her face, covering her mouth.  She was full on sobbing now as James sunk to one knee in front of her.  A few tears streamed down his cheeks as he looked up at the love of his life, “Lacey, my sunshine, will you marry me?”

He opened the box, but Lacey didn’t even look at it.  She reached down to wipe a tear from his cheek, keeping her hand on his face as she gazed down at the man she adored.  As her face broke into a huge grin, she leaned her head down to press her lips to his.  They kissed passionately for a few moments before he pulled away and said, “So is that a yes?”

Lacey threw back her head, laughter mixing with the tears on her cheeks.  She stopped laughing and looked back down at him “Yes.  A thousand times yes.”

James rose and pulled her into his arms, spinning her around, the box now closed and in his hand.  They embraced for a long moment, before she pulled away and said, “I know that it’s not really that important, but I’d love to see that ring now.”

“It’s very important,” he said, pulling out the box, “I want you to love this ring so much that you’ll never want to take it off.”

“It doesn’t really matter what it looks like, I’ll love it because you got it for me.”

As she said that, he opened the box and her jaw dropped.  Had she envisioned her perfect ring, it would not have compared to the ring James had gotten her.  It was a vintage ring, with a thin gold band and a very large oval diamond.  Lacey began openly sobbing as James took her hand and put it on her finger.

“Oh James, this is perfect.  I know it wouldn’t matter if it were just a plain gold band but this ring is stunning and I wouldn’t have picked a better one for myself if I’d tried.  Oh,” she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his mouth.

They held each other and kissed for a few moments before James pulled away, “You know that rooftop bar we went to when you were a freshman?”

“Yes,” Lacey said, hesitantly.

“Well, I rented it out tonight.  Our friends and family are there right now if you would like to go join them.”

Lacey let out a laugh, then pulled him close again, “James George Ashton, you have thought of everything haven’t you?”

“Well, I should have, that’s for sure.”

“Oh and why is that?”

“Because I have been planning this day since I first met you.”

“James, you have not.”

“Really? You don’t think I have?”

“There’s no way.”

“When we get home tonight, I’ll show you my journal from the September of 2014. You’ll find that was the first time I called you sunshine or compared you to the sun.  You’ve lit up my life for years Lacey Jae.  And you’ll continue to do so for years to come.”

[iheartseo]

MASSIVE DISCLAIMER: THIS IS ALL BASED ON MY OWN PERSONAL EXPERIENCES AND WHAT I FOUND HELPFUL !!! KTHNXS ✨

hello honey! I just finished my first year at my new uni doing my new degree and I am honestly so happy about the results I am currently getting compared to what I was getting last year. so I decided to write this little post in order to help those who are going into their first year of university/college or those who just wanna change their mindset.

just a very quick story time: last year was my first REAL year at a university and being fresh outta high school, I was extremely excited about studying the subjects I wanted to study and ready to make new friends etc. etc. However, I realised right after semester 1, that I was in way over my head and it most definitely did NOT help that my dumbass was in a horrible mindset and was not mentally mature for university and the social life of university. Due to this, as well as my quick declining interest and motivation to study, I pretty much bombed out and failed my entire first year of university. And when I said I failed my first year, I’m talking I completely failed and I knew I had failed by semester 2 and so I decided not to do my semester 2 final exams cause what’s the point?

that mindset honestly, was one of the worst I have ever been and my anxiety honestly has never been so high and I would not relive those moments ever again. so here are 10 tips and some advice on how to survive your first year of university/college and hopefully you guys will have a better 1st year experience than I did. ♡

TIP #1: GROW OUT OF YOUR HIGH SCHOOL MENTALITY (it will be an ongoing journey even past your first year of uni tbh)

not gonna lie, the second you tell someone that you are 18 years old and that you are in university, everyone suddenly expects you to be an adult and have your shit together and to have suddenly matured out of your high school mentality and that your break between your high school graduation and your first few months at university, you are expected to have mentally matured by like 20 years or some shit. yes, it is strongly advised that you get out of your high school mentality and yes it is strongly advised that you have to grow the fuck up once you get into university.

however, you should not force yourself to grow up. university will most definitely throw things your way that will completely change and shape the person you will just eventually grow to be. 

TIP #2: ACTUALLY GO AND ATTEND YOUR UNIS/COLLEGES OPEN DAYS OR INFORMATION DAYS. JUST VISIT YOUR DAMN SCHOOLS.

my ACTUAL first year of uni, I was accepted into one of Australia’s top universities on a scholarship for a double degree course. So you can imagine the amount of pressure and hard work that was needed to be put in for me to even stay at this school. When I got accepted, it wasn’t like I didn’t know that it was going to be hard. But I personally never expected for it to be as hard as it was on me both academically and socially.

At first, I liked my course, but I am personally one of those people who thrive off of whatever environment that I am put into so if I am placed into a uni where the environment is highly toxic and almost everyone is a harsh competing rival, I won’t put in the effort. But if I am in an environment that is much more relaxed and opened, but is still willing to push me to work harder, I will actually try. But some people are able to work in incredibly harsh and competitive environments and are able to handle snobby people, I personally couldn’t at my first university which is why I transferred to the uni I am currently attending.

ABSOLUTELY NO HATE OR SHADE TO MY FIRST UNIVERSITY. IT IS TRULY A GREAT UNI. My sister went to my first uni and she absolutely loved it, but everyone has a different uni experience and sadly, I didn’t enjoy it. So I most definitely recommend researching about the schools you are thinking about attending and it would really benefit you if you personally went to visit the school yourself. If you can see yourself being happy there, if you can see yourself enjoying the environment, if you can genuinely say you like the school, go to that school. Because there is honestly no point on attending a university just for the name and the title and you don’t even like going the damn library that is on campus. 

TIP #3: TRY AND STUDY SOMETHING YOU ACTUALLY LIKE

this tip is very hard and I honestly shouldn’t be saying it? But like hear me out. My belief is that if you are studying something you genuinely enjoy, you will actually study for it. Or at least that mentality definitely applies to me. I was studying a Bachelor of Science and a Bachelor of Arts together last year. My majors were Psychology and Economics. AS MUCH AS I LOVED PSYCH, STUDYING ECONOMICS WAS A BITCH.

I personally fucken hated studying Economics and with that, I also had to study Maths as a subject under my science degree, which I also personally hated. No matter how much I tried and listened in my lectures, I could honestly never get the material and it was so disheartening to me that I couldn’t understand. Granted, I was dumb and didn’t check my classes (which I will discuss in my next tip), and I knew that university classes were going to be 100 times harder than the shit I got in high school, but that didn’t escape the fact that it was so disheartening that I wasn’t able to understand the material.

That lead me to slowly and simply not caring about what it was that I was studying and learning. I didn’t care anymore about my degree. I was so unhappy with what I was studying that I would spend more time going out and partying than actually trying to get even a Pass. Nothing wrong with having fun, but I prioritized partying over studying, which is not good.

Now I am doing an Education degree and I am so much happier! I genuinely like studying what I am studying. I even actively listen to my lectures online and take notes as if I was physically attending the lecture myself (and most students don’t even bother listening to online lectures). I even stay back after all of my classes are done to catch up with anything I have missed or get ahead of my classes. I seriously like what I am studying. Sure, I lose motivation from time to time, but I am studying way more now than I did a year ago.

BUT REMEMBER. IT IS OKAY NOT TO KNOW WHAT YOU WANT TO STUDY. THERE ARE KIDS IN THEIR 4TH YEAR WHO STILL DON’T KNOW WHAT THEY WANT TO STUDY. Finding something that genuinely makes you happy and makes you want to work hard for it is hard to find, but it is so worth it once you do. So be smart with what you pick and choose.

TIP #4: CHECK UP AND RESEARCH ABOUT YOUR CLASSES

If you are lucky enough to pick and choose your individual classes, please for the love of god, research about them! look up your classes! read your damn unit guide! do not pick a class cause it sounds cool and fuck yourself over by not reading the prerequisites or not reading the amount of assignments related to that class.

I was dumb and did not read up on my classes nor did I research about them fully my first year. I honestly just read their mini blurb and went off my merry way which fucked me over so bad because I did not personally understand the actual contents of each one of my classes. 

literally find your class unit guide or class information online, look into what assignments have been done in the past, what kind of weightings they each have and read the stuff that you are suppose to learn even if you just get a simple Pass in the class. the more you look into a class, the better understanding you will get of what that class actually provides.

also, majority of the time, you can see what textbooks are needed so you can grab them off before the semester even properly starts. 

just as a little side tip

TIP #4.5: If you can literally pick and choose what your time table looks like, DO NOT FUCKEN GIVE YOURSELF 3-4 HOUR BREAKS BETWEEN YOUR CLASSES. You are lying to yourself when you say that you are going to be studying in those long ass breaks, like shut up. no. don’t do that to yourself.

TIP #5: DO NOT BUY YOUR TEXTBOOKS (if possible)

for the love of god, DO. NOT. BUY. YOUR. “MANDATORY”. TEXTBOOKS. it is a waste of money. you are blowing $200 minimum for a damn paper weight. I am not even kidding. I never have purchased a textbook and I never will unless that textbook is nowhere else to be found.

Be smart about your textbooks. If you are able to find a copy of your textbook in the library, BORROW THAT SHIT IMMEDIATELY. my university lets us borrow copies of books for like 16 weeks at a time and my semesters last for at least 13, so it is enough to class me throughout all of class. your universities should have multiple copies of whatever textbook that you need for class. even if the library copy is a few editions older, it does not matter, the content is still the same. It is not worth forking out $200-$500 for a couple of extra pages.

If you can’t borrow a copy from the library, try and find it online. There are some generous people out there who have uploaded a free full copy of the book somewhere. If you can’t find it online, borrow a friends copy and photocopy that shit like crazy. You might end up paying like $50 worth of paper but 50 is better than 200.

AND IF YOU SERIOUSLY CANT DO THAT, go onto slugbooks.com to get your textbooks. I personally haven’t used that website myself, but I hear it’s pretty fucken good to get textbooks.

TIP #6: JOIN A CLUB/SOCIETY/FRAT/SORORITY ETC.

for your first year of uni/college, just join something. there is deadset something for everyone. you do not need to join greek life if you personally do not want to. i didn’t join greek life cause australia doesn’t really have that kind of shit.

if you like debating, there is a debating club. if you like drama, 10000% there is a drama club. if you are a strong LGBTQ+ ally or are apart of that group and you wanna meet queer people, 1000000000000% there is a club for that. i’m not even kidding you, at my first university there was a damn memes society and a quidditch society. you will most definitely find something that will interest you.

if you aren’t a big fan of clubs, that is fine. i just would personally recommend joining one so you can make friends more easily and it’s sort of like a little bit away from your studies. it’s something fun for you to enjoy and you get to meet some incredible people along the way. I am apart of VSA (Vietnamese Student Association) and I have done SOOO many things all the way to modelling, charity events, partying and planning out major events etc. all whilst meeting some new people and creating friendships.

TIP #7: LEARN WHAT TO PRIORITISE

I feel like this should be a no brainer but it is important. It is okay to have fun whilst you are at uni but it is not good nor is it smart to throw away a perfectly good education that you are paying hundreds and thousands of dollars for.

if you have a party on Saturday and an essay due on Sunday, do not go to the party. I know that there is some people who pull all nighters to finish off an assignment or to study for an exam, I am extremely guilty of that. However, that does not mean I will sacrifice one extra day of studying for a party.

this is where you have to be an adult and understand how you, yourself study the best and how you retain information the best and if you need an extra couple of days, skip out on some parties and reschedule those lunch dates and dinner dates. your friends will understand and will not judge you for wanting to studying. if your friends do judge you for wanting an education, then you should drop them.

TIP #8: LEARN TO REFERENCE

I cannot stress how important referencing is in university. That shit is an absolute fucken bitch and it does not help that there are like 5 different styles or some shit. But it is important that you learn how to reference correctly because you will lose marks for not doing it correctly and some professors/tutors are just straight assholes and will deduct like 10 marks cause you aren’t using the correct referencing style for the class.

in my experience, for first year anyway, they will teach you how to reference in your tutorials so you get the general gist of what to do and how to do it. I learnt how to reference in APA format in high school, so I am fine, but I know not alot of people learn it that early and first hear about referencing once they get to uni. so learning to reference is a big thing. a lot of my tutors recommended me installing EndNote which does the referencing for you. I personally just let Word do it for me. If you go into your Word and find ‘Document Elements’ (for Mac),  click on ‘Manage’ in the References section and a citations list will pop up. Click on the plus sign in the bottom left hand corner and just literally fill out the form and you are done.

OR IF YOU ARE A WINDOWS USER, just go to the ‘References’ tab and click ‘Insert Citation’ and then click ‘Add New Source’ then fill out the form. Then you are literally done. You basically have corrected did in-text citations within your essay along to whatever format is needed. *The only shitty thing about this method is that it will only automatically do in-text citations, not footnoting. Footnoting you will have to insert manually yourself*

After you finished with all of your citations, just click on ‘Bibliography’ and put in in as ‘Works Cited’ and literally your ENTIRE reference list will be organised into alphabetical order for you.

TIP #9: GET A CALENDAR OR DIARY

whether that shit is digital or physical, start using one. it is honestly so helpful to know when you have got assignments and exams coming up and you can kinda start planning out when is a good time to start researching or studying etc. etc.

it seems like such a small thing, but it works so well. I personally just use the iPhone calendars app and make sure it reminds me at least like a week or 2 ahead of the actual due date so I know that it’s coming up.

i also highly recommend that once you read your unit guide/class information sheet, that you write down ALL of your assignments, when they are due and how much do they weigh into your calendar/diary. because then you have no excuse to say that you never knew about it and yet you wrote it down. it also just helps you to be productive and work around/add in other dates like outings with friends into your schedule. 

TIP #10: IT IS OKAY TO FAIL

I feel like there is such an extremely high expectation to pass every single one of your class with amazing grades and graduate with like a 4.0 GPA, like for some reason that is the standard that is expected out of every uni/college student, even those attending a really shitty uni is somehow expected to be blitzing through every single one your your classes, but the truth is, you will probably fail a class and that’s okay.

trust me when i say, it is okay to fail a class. i’m not saying that you SHOULD fail a class, but if you do, it’s not the end of the world. even though I failed so many classes last year, my first university was still willing to keep me enrolled and even offered some help. staying in university/college is sort of like baseball, very simple; 3 strikes and you’re out, but even then, they will still offer you services to help you study better or if you are struggling at home or you have your own mental issues that affect your studies, there are services at university/college that will help you and it’s for free.

i cannot stress how important it is to let your university/college know that if you suffer from any sort of mental illness, have a rough background, do not have the resources to study etc. etc., that you should let them know because they can help you.

that is all of the tips and advice that i can think off at the moment. i hope this helped at least one person. if i can think of anything else/more, i’ll be sure to update this post and add it on. or if i am brave enough, maybe just do a full blown youtube video? we will see on that. BUT UNTIL THEN. I HOPE THIS HELPS AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR FIRST YEAR AT UNI OR THE REST OF YOUR YEAR AT UNI IN GENERAL !! 

[thewickeddays]

And so, she broke his heart

author’s note: I really didn’t like the way Liam reacted when the MC rejected him, I feel like the man’s got som serious emotional health issues, neglecting his feelings and shit. so sis put on some sad music to get in the mood™ and this angsty (kinda trash) fic was born. also, this is my second fanfic I’ve posted so be nice to me :-)

disclaimer: all characters belong to Pixelberry Studios okok

summary: ““What can I do? Tell me what you want me to do!” “I want you to love me the way I love you!”

And just like that she knows she’s broken him.”

or; MC turns Liam’s proposal down and Liam doesn’t react like Liam would but the way I reckon Liam should.

pairing: hana x mc, drake x mc, maxwell x mc, whichever you want it to be. I wrote this in a way so that all of y’all can read it and imagine it with every li (well except for Liam but that’s given). personally I feel like it gets more heart breaking if the MC is in love with Drake because that’s like double betrayal for Liam but obviously my li is Maxwell lol anyway you get the point

word count: 1304

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. God, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Not here, not now, not like this. But he’s down on one knee, holding out a small box, inside of it a ring that is meant for her finger, for a love that doesn’t exist.

There are a lot of people. A crowd has begun to form around them, expecting to witness the beginning of a happily ever after. Stella suspects the man in front of her is too. “Will you marry me?” the question echoes in her mind, and she stands there, frozen, wide eyes trained on the ring, unable to look away, unable to form a single coherent thought, much less a sentance.

“Stella,” she meets his eyes, his happy, hopeful eyes. Dammit, he makes this so much harder than it has to be. He smiles, stop smiling, probably takes her silence as shock, as if she didn’t know for certain this was going to happen tonight. “Are you oka-”

“I can’t!” the words leave her mouth quicker than she can process them at all, coming out a little too loud and harsh, making him flinch the tiniest bit. “Liam, I can’t marry you.”

It’s evident he did not expect that response. Liam looks away for a moment, seeming to take her words in, before meeting her eyes again, the excitement completely washed away and replaced with a look of utter confusion.

“I- I don’t understand. Why?”

She takes a deep breath, bracing for what is to come.

“I’m in love with someone else,” she says, and his face falls. Gasps errupt from the croud surrounding them.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” is all she can say. Because he looks like she just tore his heart from his chest, toyed with it for a bit and then stabbed it with a fucking royal knife with a golden handle. And lastly, tossing it on the ground before his feet to watch it bleed out. And she did, didn’t she?

She hadn’t planned to fall for somebody else, how could she? She hadn’t necessarily seen a future with Liam either but if anyone, she thought it’d be him. But love wasn’t why she came to Cordonia in the first place, not at all. She hadn’t known what to do with her life, but she desperately didn’t want it to be waiting tables in a stale bar in a city where she never quite belonged anyway. She knew she needed to be somewhere different, maybe she needed to be someone different too. Maxwell had offered her an escape, an adventure, an opportunity for something else. And so help her if she hadn’t grabbed a hold of that with all her might, terrified that her only chance at another life might slip through her hands. It was never for Liam, but inevitably it was always about him. Had the circumstances been different, had she not been so altogether petrified of the consequenses of telling him the truth sooner, she wouldn’t be standing here now, a heartbroken king still kneeling before her.

Liam hasn’t moved, except for his arm holding the ring now resting on his knee. And maybe his posture has faltered at her confession, if ever so slightly. The ring is still gleaming guiltily in the corner of her eye and once again she finds herself adverting her gaze to it. She doesn’t want to look at him, doesn’t want to meet his eyes, but damn it, she owes him that much.

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. His face expresses such sheer sorrow and when she meets his eyes again there’s a look of something Stella is all too familiar with: betrayal. If she doesn’t already know the torture that comes with guilt, she does now.

“Who?” he says finally. “Is it Hana? She’s a lovely lady, I couldn’t blame you. Actually that’s a lie,” he scoffs, half laughing. His face has contorted into something Stella doesn’t recognize: normally perfected controlled, but kind, features now resemble something ugly, something dark. It’s so odd and sudden it startles her and she seems to have lost the ability to speak - again.

“Oh! What about Maxwell? I mean, he’s an absolute idiot, I don’t see how anyone could fall for him. But I’ve seen how close you too are.”

Stella’s eyes are brimming with tears now, Liam’s with something else she can’t quite identify. She knows he doesn’t mean what he’s saying, this isn’t him.

Yes, it is. You made him like this.

“Or maybe- maybe it’s Drake” he let’s out a bitter laugh and grimaces at the probably more painful alternative: his best friend and the woman he loves going behind his back. The thought of betrayal at its absolute worst.

“Liam, please, don’t do this-”

“Imagine the headlines: “This just in!: the king dumped for commoner best friend”. Jesus, that’d be some scandal, wouldn’t it?”

What is she supposed to say? Whichever answer she gives him it will only break him further. She can’t tell him right now, she can’t possibly bring herself to. p>

“Actually, don’t tell me who it is, I don’t want to know,” he says. He looks down at the velvtet box, turning it over in his hand. “I’m so stupid”, he mumbles.

“No, don’t do that. You’re not stupid,” Stella tries, shaking her head.

“Just,” he weakly holds a hand up. “stop.” 

Silence.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“There was so much at stake, I just- I wanted to but…” Liam scoffs.

“But what? You wanted to wait ‘til the right moment? Is that it?”

Her throat feels dry and her jaw falls open as she’s fumbling for words. She could’ve told him this morning, at least. Instead she’s put herself in the worst possible scenario. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. 

“I’m on one knee, asking for your hand and you tell me now that you’re in love with someone else? Was that your plan? To humiliate me as much as you could?” 

“No-”

He stands up. “I thought you loved me, Stella.”

“I never said that-”

“You never said you didn’t. I am so pathetically in love with you, and from the way you acted around me.. I really thought…” he trails away. 

“I’m so sorry,” Stella pleads. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well, shit.”

“What can I do? Tell me what you want me to do!”

“I want you to love me the way I love you!” he shouts.

And just like that she knows she’s broken him.

Stella hasn’t heard Liam raise his voice like that before. Not even on the night of the coronation when he reached out for her and called her name, as guards dragged her out the palace doors. His voice is so harsh now it makes her gasp and take a step back. She wonders how much pain one truly must cause such a gentle person to act the complete opposite of their character. A lot, she decides.

He leaves her then, standing on the ground of the city where she kissed him all those months ago. Where she started a fire in a heart and left it burning to ashes.

“What are you looking at?!” she sneers at the stunned crowd around her that then begins to scatter. Amidst the chaos she had totally forgotten that there were onlookers present, which suddenly makes the the lump in her stomach feel heavier. They must think she’s an awful person, she thinks, and right now, so does she.

She doesn’t leave straight away, but instead sits down on a bench nearby. Picking up her phone she dials a number she knows by heart. After a few rings she hears a voice on the other line that she hasn’t heard in months. Suddenly all the emotion rush to the surface, the tears she’s been able keep at bay for the last minutes now run down her cheeks.

“Hi, mum”

[pimbilucha]

Trigger Warning.

-this post mentions Statutory s*xual behaviors with a minor (no intercourse) mild mention of self-harm and eating disorder-

I have never talked to anyone about this because even though i conceptually know it was not my fault, i was a child that was tricked by someone double her age, i still felt guilty and ashamed. i still do hence the reason why i am doing this anonymously or at least as anonymously as i can. For a long time i had just given up on talking about this and decided to deal with it on my own, but recently something happened that encouraged me to tell my story, maybe not as a comfort to myself but hopefully to help prevent this happening to anyone else.

At this point, many of you have already heard about what Millie Bobby Brown said about her relationship with Drake, the moment i read this it raised multiple red flags, and as i have seen it did the same for others as well.  I also imagine that there are many others that might think “these Tumblr dweebs always making such a bit deal out of everything” “its not that big of a deal” and i also imagine that there are kids around Millie’s age annoyed that people are reacting that way. So, i want to use my personal experience as an example to show you that it t isn’t always exaggeration and SJWs trying to find something to complain about. however, before starting i want to make a disclaimer that although i find DRake’s behavior problematic and gross, to be honest at the end of the day i do not completely know his intentions so i do not want to falsely tarnish his name (you know i don’t want to get sued or whatever) i am just using this recent situation as an example i suppose.  

When i was 14 i felt a lot of pressure to fit in, as many of us do. Due to this pressure, i did a lot of stupid things i wish i had not done. one of the things that i was so harsh on myself about was dating, because of the society we live in and the media and such kids are basically told to start dating as fast as possible, if they don’t then there’s probably something wrong with them; i am not trying to vilify dating, i mean if you want to start dating at 13 or 14 sure go ahead i mean i do feel it’s too young to go through all not so pretty parts about dating but as long as you want to and it is someone around your age 13-14 or 15  go ahead but i also want you to know that if you don’t date until much later in life or not at all even that is also okay don’t force yourself to do it, because that's what i have done multiple times and i regret it deeply. The first time, when i was 14 i had never liked anyone i actually didn't have a real crush on a real person (none celebrity or fictional) until i was 19, but during my preteen years my lack of interest in anyone troubled me i felt like i was odd, like there was something wrong with me so every once in a while i forced or tricked myself into having “crushes”. one, in particular, was on a boy who lived in the same apartment complex as one of my “friends” at that time, which coincidentally was located across the street from my apartment complex so you can imagine that i spent a lot of time in her house. The biggest coincidence was that this boy’s stepfather was my new volleyball coach, he worked at our school, a Catholic all-female school. As i had been practicing volleyball since i was in 5th grade (my school goes from pre.K to 11th-grade high school when you graduate) my “plan” was to get close to my coach so i could get close to his son. I can now see how seriously flawed and troublesome this was but alas, i was a child and all my “friends” seem to think it was a perfect idea.  i feel like a need to give a little background so to make this a little bit less of a huge mess. for starters these “friends” i keep mentioning were part of a bigger group of friends, we were about 10 or 12 and we had all been friends since 3th grade, most of the time it was my best friend and i and the rest, however in 7th grade our teachers separated us and my BFF and i were in different classrooms and the rest were all divided with us. I was in the same classroom as three of our friends... let's call them “TCA” i remember that during 3 and 4th grade would always fight with those three but we always made up, i haven’t talked to them since btw. T is the one that lives in the apartment complex across from me and in the same place as the coach. My best friend and i drifted apart during that year but her parents still drove me home after volleyball practice every week *that’s relevant to the story later* 

The “plan” started off going well, i mean at least i thought it was. I remember thinking if the coach thought i was pretty he would start talking to his son about me, that's what my grandma did every time she saw a good looking boy why would this be any different?? so i started trying to look as pretty as i could during practice ( i can’t help but shake my head at 14-year-old me) on time TCA and me were at T’s apartment and we decided to go look for the boys to ask them if the wanted to hang out with us, when we got to the coach’s house his son wasn’t there, nor was his wife or his daughter (that went to school with us but was younger) yet he still thought it was okay to invite us in, we accepted because i think we thought “oh my God! we get to see the inside of a teachers house!!”  but now i know that this should have been a warning sign. To make a long story short, i started spending a lot of time with the coach, i don’t know how or when but apparently what i was perceiving as a friendship? or his help to get close to his son now i know was something else, what i thought was friendly funny banter he probably thought it was flirting? Then at some point even though in a way i knew it was weird i started enjoying the attention i was getting and although i felt guilty when you’re 14 and you already think there’s something wrong with you for not dating or having crushes and then suddenly someone is giving you that attention you felt you needed, its ..intoxicating. he started finding ways to get me alone with him, it was weird i felt a little uncomfortable, i knew things were heading in a completely different way i had imagined, and i didn’t want it to go that way, i was scared and nervous but the attention made me feel special, mature even. Then one day for volleyball practice my best friend couldn’t stay, therefore i didn’t have no one to take me home, there was no one at school. i spent the two hours in that were usually designated for practice in the gym with all the gym teachers until one by one they all started leaving, as i was about to leave the room the coach stood in front of me and kissed me. it was my first kiss, i was 14 and a 40 something married man with kids whom i trusted took it from me. that day while walking home, something i wasn’t supposed to do, it took me 2 or 3 hours to get to my house (you can study far from your area where I’m from) and during the whole walk it was so confused, i felt gross and wrong i kinda wished i was run over by a car, but at the same time i felt special too in such a twisted way i can’t even explain.  A few days after that he told me to meet him at night, i thought and hoped it was to tell me that what he had done was wrong, so i made up a lie and left my house, meet him somewhere and to my horror he took me to a motel, i tried to convince myself it was so no one could see us while we talked, i was only half right. 

i still remember every moment of that night and it sends shivers down my spine, i feel repulsed and gross i feel like i want to bathe in bleach. i am thankful that i was able to keep my clothes on the whole time, i am also thankful to god there was no intercourse just touching and kissing. It wasn’t mutual, i just remember laying there and wanting to go home, just waiting for it all to stop. i felt shame, i felt gross and evil, i didn’t want it but i never said no, i just let it happen, laying there to scared to move, i did say no to other things though, like getting into the tub or something he kept mentioning he saw in “American pie” i did say no to that, but i never stopped him from touching me, i remember he grabbed my hand in tried to make me feel how “turned on”I had made him, it was scary it was gross i just pulled my hand away and pretended it didn’t happen. i was confused really confused i didn’t want it but part of me was like “well you like the attention, what did you expect you’re not saying no so you must like it” the rest was scared. when it finally finished, he took me back home, he left me a few blocks away and as i walked i felt dirty, like trash undeserving of respect, part of me wanted to die. i got home and pretended as if all was fine, but the more time passed the dirtier and the more disgusted i felt with myself. i hated everything about me, after that night i just avoided him like the plague but i still had to see him in class, i also started hearing rumors. i was terrified, i was ashamed, i felt guilty (i still do) and i just wanted to die. i remember he even got another teacher to get me to talk to him, i just blocked them all and tried as hard as i could to pretend nothing ever happened, or at least on the outside because in the inside i was withering away and so where my grades and everything else about me. 

In a desperate attempt for me not to fail a year my parents sent me to the U.S, you might have asked yourself where were my parents until now, they were at home they were there and i know they tried but they were also busy with a 1-year-old and a 9-year-old, they were also trying their best to give us the life we had: private schools, good neighborhood and such all with the income of one parent, in addition to that puberty, is a dangerous time where you build a wall against them for no reason. they tried i know they tried, when i walked home that time they were furious my school let me leave the premises without proper authorization given that i either rode the bus or my friends parents would drive me so i had no reason to walk home, after that my school implemented strict rules for letting students leave school property by foot, but i also know that because of how parenting is where i am from i would have probably just gotten yelled at and grounded (which would have been better tbh). anyway in America, i started cutting, i also started making myself throw up after each meal, i feel like in a way it was just a desperate cry for help, i never really made myself bleed they just looked like scratches but each time my family would find out my parents only yelled at me, and seeing how much it broke my grandparents hearts was enough to make me stop. I never really got the help i needed but i started focusing on myself, getting better on my own, getting good grades and forgetting it. When i want back to my old school in my home country, the coach was not in my school anymore, he had quite but his daughter was there for a few more years so i had to see his ugly evil face a few more times, i also saw him near his house since it was so close to mine, it always brought back terrible memories that made me want to die and burn myself but i was back with my real friends and although they don’t know everything that happened they gave me their love and support. 

to this day, i more often than not get random flashbacks of that time, they still fill me with shame, guilt, and pain. although i know i was groomed that doesn’t take the thorn of hatred i still have for myself, that doesn’t help me forget or forgive myself all i really learned how to do is live with it and try as hard as i can to pretend that it never happened. No one yet knows the full extent and my family has no idea because i don’t want me to look at me differently i don’t want them to not see me like the daughter they love, i don’t want people to see me as a (pardon my language) sl*t that didn’t say no. i know at this point that i probably didn’t do what i said i was and this probably doesn’t help to identify predators or gives any help at all. I just want you to know that if you read thus far that please be wary of any older person that shows a little to much interest in you, i know it might make you feel special and that the attention feels nice and it might be something you need but please stay away and tell someone. it can start innocently like a friendship, a  help or a guide and it may just stay like that, i hope to god it always stays like that, but sadly we share this world with gross gross people, that like taking advantage and grooming young naive kids. I don’t know how to put it into words, but just stay away from them, ask why are they showing so much interest in someone younger and much vulnerable than them i know it might sound like i am insulting you but i really mean it, why can’t they find friends their age? why are they showing such selfless interest in your love life? why are they asking you to not share seemingly innocent conversations or interactions with other? ask yourself that, ask someone you know and trust that. That’s why what Millie said rang some bells, again i am not trying to tarnish Drake’s name given that this is all just a misunderstanding, but you can’t just tell a 14-year-old “i miss you” and expect it not to sound predatory he may have good intentions, but i don’t know him and from this perspective he sounds like a threat i know all too well now. And even if! he is just trying to be a guide, he should be more mindful of what he says or does and maybe be aware that their interactions shouldn’t be so private, he is the adult he is the one with the power and he is the one that should know. i don’t even know what point I’m trying to make now, but just please be careful. 

Age is nothing but a number is only valid to motive you to not let it stop you from following your dreams, not as an excuse to be in an unbalanced relationship. during your first decade of life, every year is so different, i was a completely different person when i was 13 and when i was 14 and there's only a year difference, at 13 i was still interested in some toys and playing with my friends and i said i woullld never drink in my life, at 14 i was like uughhh! so lame to all of that and i got drunk for the first time ever; at 15 i was also much different than at 14, same as 16 and 17 each year it was as if i was a different person, with different tastes, style, thoughts, fears different everything, it wasn’t until 18 when i became more established in who i was and what i wanted, and even though now at 22 i am a little different than then the changes are minor, they’re more of knowledge and stability and anything else. i don’t think i could have a conversation with myself now and me at 14 it would be impossible, so why would someone much older than you want to be in a relationship with you? in a real stable healthy relationship? they don’t, they want to be in control, they want to handle you and use you how they want they want to trick you into doing what they want you to do even if you might feel uncomfortable. sure if you’re 20 and you’re in a relationship with someone a few years older (up to 7 feels okay) that's fine because you’re established as your own person now, you know the world a little better,  and both of you are in similar mental places which leads to you being in a balanced equal position, were both of you respect each other.  IDK just be careful, i don’t know how to explain what i want to say. 

one more thing!  boys i know society always shows you it is okay too and that you are a bigger man when you are able to get the older woman or guy, i can name movies and shows that imply that but it’s not okay, this goes for you too!

again! i am not trying to tarnish DRakes name, i am aware i might be translating my personal experience into this situation and making it a misunderstanding. in the off chance, it is this case i apologize but i am not sorry it still serves as an example. please stay away from younger girls. YOU HAVE THE SAME AGE DIFFERENCE WITH MILLIE AS MY PARENTS HAVE WITH ME, A 17 YEAR DIFFERENCE. YOU COULD BE HER FATHER IF YOU WOULD’VE HAD HER YOUNG. so stay away, she has other younger people that can help her with boys. if your intentions are not bad i apologize but stay away.

[renaroo]

Double Time (13/24)

Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and related characters are the property of Rooster Teeth. Warnings: Language, Canon-typical violence Pairings: Tuckington, Chex Rating: T Synopsis: [Hero Time Sequel] After the events of Hero Time, the city and Blood Gulch are prepared for the true return of superheroes in a big way. But while Washington is attempting to adjust to a new relationship and a new living arrangement, the call of new heroes and a new mayor mean major changes for his professional life as well as his personal one. How will the balance of values fare when his new partners come to test everything he’s made of.

A/N: I am running out of things to say in these intros because they’re coming far too close together and I’m used to making 50% of my notes an apology for how long it took to get the chapter out. There are pros and cons to regular updates. Hopefully for you all, more pros than cons!

Special thanks to @analiarvb, @secretlystephaniebrown, @washingtonstub, @icefrozenover, Enmuse, Yin, and @notatroll7 on AO3 and tumblr for the wonderful feed back! I truly appreciate it more than you know.

Team Felix

Wash couldn’t even remember when was the last time it was him sitting in a waiting room in anticipation of news about someone else. He was willing to wager it had been a fairly long time, though. And he was not exactly pleased with his own apathy at the circumstances. 

Fortunately, he wasn’t alone with his thoughts or too long because the door was kicked open and revealed both mayoral candidates in wait. 

“What the hell is going on!?” Kimball demanded. 

“And are you alright, dear Washington?” Doyle added more softly. 

Blinking some, Wash settled back in his seat. “For once it’s not me laying in a sick bed so I’m going to assume that I’ll pull through,” he responded flatly. “Not so sure about my... backup.”

Kimball was by far the most reactive, throwing up her arms. “What the hell is going on in that borough of yours?” she yelled. “First it’s basically off the map for the past ten years, suddenly you inform us of its electoral capabilities and all we’ve gotten is complaints about teenagers exploding things, disrupting of the peace by some vigilante gang, and now the two superheroes that we have turned this city’s attention toward as a unifying force are blown to hell on its streets!”

Doyle put a hand to his chin. “In truth, it’s beginning to seem as though learning about Blood Gulch has been far less advantageous to anyone than previously ignoring it.”

More than a little peeved at the attitudes on display, Washington narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps ignoring these issues and an entire population was beneficial to the people who might be responsible for helping to fix the areas, but it’s far from helpful to those of us trying to live and improve Blood Gulch or any other inner city borough like it,” Wash reminded them sharply. “And don’t you two have an emergency election to worry about appeasing voters with? Voters like the people in Blood Gulch?”

They stared at him. 

“The reason no one knows about Blood Gulch is that it has a zero-point-zero-zero-two percent voter turnout to begin with and, so far as we can tell, no town hall activity,” Doyle explained. 

“Resources aren’t going to be going toward somewhere that doesn’t want to be active,” Kimball agreed. 

Wash squinted at them both. “At this point you two are going to be co-mayors forever.”

“God no,” both said at the same time.

Just as Wash was working around what to say next to the mayors, the door was kicked in again. Except the doorway then almost immediately became clogged as four teenagers attempted to cross through it at the same time. 

“Ow! Watch where you’re stepping!” Jensen whined. 

“Tell Palomo to stop swinging his elbow into me!” Bitters snapped back.

“That’s not my elbow,” Palomo informed them only to spur more struggling.

“Do not -- ghk -- worry, friends!” Andersmith called out heroically. “We can work through all of this if we just keep trying together!”

They pushed more and, of course, had no progress in attempting the same thing again. They then erupted into petty squabbling that was giving Washington a nauseous wave of secondhand embarrassment on top of all the other issues going on in his life at the moment. 

He looked instead to the mayors and waved his hands dramatically toward the teenagers. “You summoned the teenagers I’m training to come here? Why? There’s literally no reason for it.”

“That would be because you’re being shortsighted,” Kimball argued. “These children are the future protectors of this electoral map.”

“City,” Doyle corrected.

“Exactly,” Kimball nodded.

“It is thus important for them to be up to date on any new information you and -- bless his poor soul -- Felix can give them about the current enemy who continues to defile and destroy public property,” Doyle explained. 

“And to know what they’re putting on the line every time they put on those garish costumes,” Kimball noted.

Wash pulled a frown and squinted at them. Suddenly feeling extraordinarily uncomfortable in his skintight suit. “Garish?”

Doyle smiled uneasily and waved his hands passively. “Certain looks are not for everyone, of course. Our senses of style not being what yours are, of course--” 

The teenagers were still struggling which was more than enough excuse for Wash to raise to his feet and shake his head. “Forget it,” he advised to the mayors. “I really don’t like where the conversation is going.”

He then walked closer to the entrance and snapped his fingers right in front of the kids’ faces. It got their attentions almost immediately. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Wash snapped at them. “What’s the first thing I tell you to do before every practice? Every drill? Every talk?”

"Um,” they all echoed at once, though at least they seemed to stop struggling.

Andersmith cleared his throat and looked over everyone else’s heads. “I believe, that what you are consistently telling us is to use our heads.”

Washington felt some relief and sighed as he crossed his arms. At least one person seemed to be listening to him. “That’s right. Thank you, Andersmith. So let’s try doing just that.”

“Got it, Sir!” Andersmith said, backing away from the group and flexing in that familiar way that caused his body to become solid metal. 

For a moment, it simply left Washington blinking in confusion before Andersmith lowered his head and began the charge. Horrified, Wash raised up his hands and shook his head. “No no, wait!”

It was too late. 

Andesmith collided with the three other teenagers, sending them flying into the waiting room on top of Washington, and even knocking into the mayors. He then stood proudly as the only unscathed member of the group with his hands on his hips. The self satisfaction was pouring off of him.

“My word,” Doyle huffed underneath the pile.

“I see your training is going well, Washington,” Kimball said more harshly, pushing people off her as much as she could.

“Progress is what’s important, no one else seems to get that,” Wash mused mostly to himself before seeing Jensen and Palomo’s offered hands. He blinked before taking them and allowing himself to be helped up. “I suppose the next logical step would be to ask you four why you came down here in such a rush, wouldn’t it?”

“You kidding?” Palomo asked, nearly bouncing on his feet. Something that, considering the fleshiness of his costume, he probably truly shouldn’t have done. “The big fight was all over social media!”

“Big fight?” Wash asked, brows furrowing. “But there weren’t cameras around.”

“Oh my god, you are such a Silver Age hero,” Bitters groaned. 

“Everyone records everything on their phones these days, Mister Washington,” Jensen reasoned. “There’s no way something as epic as a rematch between you, Felix, and Locus would go without being recorded and posted everywhere immediately.” She then turned toward Bitters and crossed her arms. “Also, Antoine, I would be doing a disservice to actual fans everywhere by not pointing out that given his age and the relative late start he had on the Freelancers, Washington is obviously from the Bronze Age. It’s very well documented on the superhero wiki. The only official source for superhero information.”

"Everyone, be quiet,” Wash ordered. Once all sets of eyes were on him he pointed accusingly at Bitters and Jensen. “Just how old do you think I am?”

“Um,” both teens hummed at the same time. 

Wash opened his mouth to further press the matter when the poor, battered door was kicked in again. He threw up his hands. “Does no one respect public proper-- Tucker?”

Just as the words left his mouth, Tucker shoved past everyone and threw a hand over Wash’s mouth. “Shhhh!” he growled, looking around the room through his sunglasses. He had a hoodie up and tied tight like a complete dork and was wearing a thick coat even though it was summer. 

The latter detail probably explained why his hand was so sweaty.

“Okay, enough,” Wash grunted, pulling Tucker’s hand off his mouth. “What are you--” he then looked over Tucker’s shoulder as he heard honking and cooing from the doorway. “Why are both of you here right now!?”

“Because you keep trying to die and it used to be funny when it was just cars that were after you but now it seems like explosions have it in for you,” Tucker explained. “A-K-A I was worried.”

“First off, explosions have it out for everyone, I don’t happen to be special in that department,” Wash pointed out. “Two, how the hell does everyone know about this already!? Where is this video supposedly on... the youtubes.”

Tucker literally did a full body cringe. “Youtubes? Oh my god, Wash, that’s so sad.”

“Silver Age, that cements it,” Bitters muttered loudly enough for even Wash to hear. 

“I don’t know about Silver Age, but definitely a silver fox,” Palomo stage whispered back, leading to a level of discomfort that Wash had not realized he was capable of around teenagers. 

“Regardless of what everyone saw, I’m fine,” Wash assured everyone.

“Duh. We know,” Bitters groaned.

“We did all see the video,” Andersmith pointed out. 

Washington looked around the room and slowly put everything together at last. His glares stopped at his boyfriend. “Are you telling me that all of you aren’t here to check on me but actually here to check on Felix?” he demanded.

An uncomfortable silence only occasionally interrupted with a cough took hold of the room. 

Washington stared at them all as the realization slowly dawned on him. Then he couldn’t help but look more than a little betrayed. “Wait? Does everyone in here like him more than me?”

“No!” they all said far too quickly.

“Felix has just been working so hard on building up superhero relations with the government behind the scenes, even before we got in contact with you,” Kimball tried to explain in what passed for her as a gentle tone. 

“And he’s so cool!” Palomo quickly added. 

“He offered to help me with my powers,” Jensen explained, 

“And give me some pointers,” Andersmith continued. 

Junior just gave Washington an expectant look. That cut the superhero more to the bone than anything. 

“Ouch,” Wash said out loud just before Tucker punched his shoulder. “Double ouch?”

“I came here for you,” Tucker informed him. “But... yeah, I’m worried about the only guy who seems to be around saving your butt lately, too. I mean, if he’s in the hospital bed this time, it’s going to be you next time. And I’ve had more than enough of that for a while, thanks,” Tucker said, making a point to still wave his arm in the brace. 

Washington exhaled quickly, and almost stubbornly. “You’re all right. And that’s why I’m here, too. I owe Felix, and being a superhero isn’t a competition, it’s a trust between you and every other person who seeks to do the right thing,” he explained.

“Glad to hear you say that, Wash, tickles my little heart,” Felix’s cocksure voice said from the hospital door. 

“Felix!” more than half the room cheered, heading to where he and Doctor Grey were standing. 

Felix’s grin still managed to be unbearable to Wash, but he tried to let it go. After all, the man had been injured on account of him -- on account of telling him that Locus was stalking Wash’s neighborhood without him even noticing. 

“Because if this was a competition, I think we all know who’d be winning,” Felix continued to joke, but his eyes never left Wash for even a moment. 

That was more than enough to make Wash squint suspiciously at Felix, even while Tucker yanked on his arm again. 

“You sure you came out of all that alright?” Tucker asked. 

"Kind of,” Wash said lowly, so that only Tucker could hear. He then looked intently at his boyfriend. “Can you show me the video everyone’s talking about? Because there were things that happened in that fight that have me asking a lot of questions I’m not sure I’m going to like the answer to or not.”

Tucker let his sunglasses slide down his nose enough that Wash could get the full effect of his eyebrow raised. “Yeah, I guess,” he replied suspiciously. “What kind of questions do you have?”

“I want to know how I ended up on the other side of the street just before that explosion happened, and I want to know why said explosion wasn’t as bad as it looked,” Wash explained. “And I want to know why Felix seems to be doing more behind the scenes than he apparently wants me to know.”

Rolling his eyes, Tucker sighed. “You’re just so against equal opportunity for people to save you for once, aren’t you, dude?” he asked.

“No!” Wash defended. “Tucker, I’m trusting you, aren’t I?” 

“Pfft, yeah, but you’re also sleeping with me so I’d hope some trust issues weren’t working their way in there too much,” Tucker joked, pulling out his phone. “I can’t believe you don’t know how to pull up a video. Where’ve you been for the last ten years?”

“It’s not that I don’t... Forget it,” Wash grunted. “Let’s just see how far this rabbit hole takes us...”

[justanotherbandomdevotee]

Title- The Universe Hates Me.

A Brendon Urie One Shot.

)��(G�

Pairing- Brendon Urie+ Original Character.

Era- Too Weird To Live, Too Rare To Die.

Word Count- 2,701

Warnings-

Angst.

Pretention.

Mentions Of Drug Abuse.

Unrequited Love.

Horribly Written.

 Terribly Long.

Trying Too Hard

!�� �*

A/N-

This wasn’t requested or anything, i just felt like writing something angst-y. It’s not as good as I imagined it to be. Feel free to leave criticism and point out my mistakes. 

Disclaimer-

This is a work of fiction based on real events. I only own the Original Character. I do not know what happened in Cape Town.

-Sentient Potato. 

“Do you, Sarah Orzechowski, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love him and cherish him in sickness and health, until death parts you?” The evangelist asked the beautiful girl in white who nodded and uttered a soft ‘I do’. Her nude lips framed her perfect teeth and were the supporting stars of her award winning smile. Her eyes were big, blue, and innocent. He had always been a sucker for long legged, petite waisted, innocent angels, which is why I always wondered what he saw in me.

The evangelist repeated his question to the man in the black tuxedo who was smiling so big that I couldn’t even hate him for it. He was so happy, something that he wasn’t back when I knew him. He nodded and repeated the black haired angel’s words.

The sun was pricking my bare shoulders, ringed ears, and bare neck when the wedding venue erupted in cheers because the couple was kissing. People were clapping, children were giggling, somewhere far away, fan girls were crying their smudged eye liner eyes out, and the attending women were crying, trying very hard to not ruin their makeup that was worth more than my entire existence, but then again, my existence was pretty pointless and forgettable. The couple separated their lips and gazed at each other like the bag of tissues, cartilages, bones, veins, and arteries in front of them was the most genuinely fascinating thing in the world and they couldn’t believe that they were lucky enough to be the other’s one and only. It was sweet, so sweet that it triggered my nonexistent diabetes.

The open field, where the vows and ‘I do’s’ were exchanged smelled like fresh flowers, strong colognes, aftershaves, expensive perfumes that sat on the dressing tables of expensive houses as a show piece, and heartache. I would apologize for my blunt description and borderline bitter tone, but that’s who I am. So, I won’t.

The couple walked down the strip of green grass that served as a walkway and still had a few stray pink petals on it. There it was again, that smile that I fell in love with all those years ago. That smile that reached his ‘typical brown’ brown eyes, every part of his face lit up, and his jaw became more prominent. That smile made it impossible for me to hate him, I tried to imagine him with a frown on his lips, but my brain stuttered and died. It decided to focus on that breath taking smile of his instead.

The couple disappeared from my line of sight after a while, but I can’t blame them, I am tragically short.

The attendees started moving towards the golden handled brown double doors that had intricate wooden patterns on its chipped surface with a general sense of hurriedness. I walked across the lawn leisurely, like I had nothing else better to do. To be fair, I didn’t.

I moved from the sweltering heat of April and into the air conditioned insides of the banquet hall. I lost my breath when I noticed the insides. With pale pink walls, white marbled floors, high ceilings, low lying, intricate and grand chandeliers, and a wall of three giant windows that were functioning as the only light source it looked like a ballroom from a Disney movie. I was in awe. That’s the only adjective that I could think of to describe my feelings. I guess Brendon took Monica Gellar’s words to heart and went all out to give Sarah her perfect wedding.

The circular tables with pale yellow and stark white table cloths and a centre piece of pink and red flowers arrangement hosted the guests. At the north wall, the groom and the bride sat with their posse, the west wall was the window wall and had the buffet line, the east wall had a bar, and the south wall housed the entrance. I could hear the clicks of my heels as I walked across the wooden floor in search for my seat.

I found mine and it was in the groom’s peripheral vision line, great. I was hoping to have one awkward eye contact and one forced conversation and I was done with both of them. I had caught him just before he had to walk down the aisle and wait next to evangelist and shared an intense and awkward eye contact for 10 seconds when the evangelist asked to come forward and recite any qualms that one might have regarding the holy matrimony of Brendon and Sarah.

We had always joked about how he would put on a fake wedding as a front and burst in like his entrance from ‘I write sins not tragedies’ music video during that part of our wedding.

He and I were always super cheesy and dramatic. I suppose the universe gets off my pain. No wonder we don’t get along.

I stared at the cursive font of my place card as the best man and the maid of honor gave their respective speeches with clichéd versions of Brendon and Sarah’s already fairytale-esque love story. I was fingering the rim of the champagne flute that was in front of me when I felt a presence next to me.

“Is this seat reserved?” Asked a sharply dressed Spencer and I couldn’t help but smile at his adorableness. “No.” I replied without looking up at him. The chair scarped back and Spencer placed himself on it. He was facing me, of course he was. He wanted to talk, ‘Wow! You are full of observations and deductions today, Sherlock.’ The voice in my head spoke, more like sneered.

“How are you?” Spencer asked after a short and awkward silence. ‘Suck it up and talk to him. He never wronged you.’ The voice reasoned. Now it uses its gentle tone, great. I closed my eyes and forced myself to shut up. “I am well. What about you?” I spoke after opening my eyes. I could feel my mascara coated eyelashes separating from each other as I did that. From my peripheral vision, I could see Spencer smiling. He ducked his chin into his chest and scratched the nape of his neck. “I’ve been better, to be honest.” Spencer spoke as he pulled his head up. That was Spencer for you, he was brutally honest and never sugarcoated anything, especially when it came to him.

“Still brutally honest, I see.” I noted and finally, finally averted my eyes from the flute and my clear coat covered pointer finger’s nail and chanced a glance in his general direction. “Still your cherry self, does it ever get tiring, being that happy?” Spencer sassed and for the first time since my arrival to the public display of my heart break, I laughed.

Spencer smiled a mega watt smile when he heard me laughing and placed his right elbow of the table, causing the table cloth to crease, and leaned against it. Spencer loved making me laugh, he had admitted to it on countless occasions. “God, I still love that laugh.” Spencer remarked.

“Don’t let Hayley hear that.” I replied without missing a beat and leaned back to rest my back against the back rest of my chair with a smile on my dark red lips. This was us, we were chilled, easy going, we were basically hippies without the psychedelic drugs flowing through our veins. Well, no drugs flowed through my veins anyway.

“I, uh, I and Hayley broke up.” Spencer spoke after he recovered from the shock of hearing his ex’s name. “Oh,” My stumped brain managed to get the exclamation past my lips. “I, um, I am sorry.” I paused and gulped as I uttered my apology. Spencer smiled his smile that caused millions of fan girls to swoon and die in the same comment on social media everywhere and shrugged it off. “It doesn’t matter. I am perfectly happy now.” Spencer smiled a close lipped smile to punctuate his sentence. His eyes were twinkling with happiness. His beard dotted, pale cheeks were colored a pale red due to the sudden rush of blood. He seemed happy, really happy. The kind of happiness that one experiences when they are with someone whom they want to murder, but don’t cause they’ll miss the dead too much, he was in love, genuine, proper love.

“You know your right hand doesn’t count as a girlfriend, right?” I questioned in a joking manner and felt his knuckles bruising my bare upper arm. I moved to rub it, to soothe the supposed wound. “Oh stop it! It wasn’t even that hard.” Spencer commented after seeing my over the top antics, but his words held a weight of concern to them. Spencer was the elder brother that I deserved but not the one that I needed, I had Ryan to fill that department. He was my cousin, but he was still my brother.

“How is Ryan?” Spencer asked the dreaded question after asking me about Jon, his voice held pain and confusion.  I knew it was coming. I was prepared to face this question ever since I got the invitation 2 months ago, but now that it was actually happening in real life and not in my head during a steamy shower where I controlled both aspects of this difficult conversation, my heart started thudding and my mouth became dry as every answer took a flight.

That night in Cape Town had left its dark mark, of varying degrees, on all of us. Spencer lost one of his best friends and a brother. I lost my boyfriend and my friends, Jon lost 3 of his close friends, and Brendon lost his best friends and lover.

“He is doing well.” I lied through my teeth. I couldn’t tell him the truth. I couldn’t tell him how utterly broken and sad Ryan is; how much he misses them.  How he cries himself to sleep every night because he misses them so much. I am, generally, a very sulky person, but I suck at delivering bad news. I am not built for it.

“You always were a shitty liar.”

 After speaking for a few more minutes, Spencer took his leave and Brendon replaced him. After exchanging pleasantries, congratulations, and quick summaries of our time apart, Brendon brought up the one topic that I had been trying to avoid all night, our past.

We didn’t have a clean break up, far from it actually. It was messy, almost brutal, words were exchanged, and insults thrown in the air. Our actions were less than graceful. We, also, never got closure.

Brendon sending me his wedding invite was the first time he had reached out to me in four years. “Brendon,” I started with a sigh, a pain started surging through my head. “No, wait, just hear me out.” Brendon practically pleaded, his words held a sense of urgency. A hundred and fifty people at this wedding and not one of them is wondering where the groom is. The universe really needs to stop getting off my pain.

“Look, things were said and actions were carried out and I just want you to know that I am not proud of the way I acted. I should’ve been more mature about it, but I was doing so many drugs back then that I couldn’t differentiate between right and wrong. I was horrible to you when I had no right to be horrible. You were extremely kind to me during our relationship and I treated you like shit after the release of fever and I am so sorry. You apologized after every single fight, you stayed up worrying about me all those nights when I stumbled through the front door late at night, you slept on the couch so many times, and sometimes, you didn’t sleep at all because the drugs were causing me to have hallucinations and I was scared and confused. You held my hand through everything for so, so long. You refused to believe that I was cheating on you when everyone was telling you that I was. Even when they showed you compelling evidence, you still refused because you trusted me so damn much, and I only broke that trust. I took your heart and poisoned it. I was a shitty human being back then. You said ‘I love you’ to me so many times and I never once said it back to you. I broke you, I damaged mentally and physically and, I just…” And at this point of his rant-apology, Brendon’s voice cracked, his eyes filled with tears, and he took a shuddering breath through his quivering lips to stop himself from crying. He ran a hand through his hair after ducking his chin into his chest. He was breathing heavily, hyperventilating.

For the second time in 7 years, I saw the broken Brendon Urie, the raw, scared version underneath all of the pretence and the faux primadonna.

“Brendon,” I started as I uncrossed my legs. On numb legs, I got up and crouched in front of the shaking groom. “Bren,” I placed my hand on his right knee and he placed his hands on top of mine. “I am sorry, I am so sorry for being such an ass to you. I am sorry for never saying I love you to you.” Brendon burst and practically bawled his words out. He was shaking uncontrollably and his tears were streaming down his clean shaven cheeks. His eyes were red rimmed and his lips looked darker than usual, probably because he had eaten his dead skin off by biting his lips out of nervousness, an old habit of his. His condition caused my heart to ache.

I had hated Brendon for so long that his very name ignited a ball of fury in my core. I was so bitter, but crouching here in front of him on the night of his wedding, I decided to forgive him.  

“Brendon, I forgive you.” I spoke in the most convincing tone that I could muster through the crack in my voice. “Do you?” He asked in a soft and broken voice. He looked at me through the lashes that curtained his brown eyes. He looked so tired and broken. I nodded as my eyes filled with tears. I pressed my lips together and worded it out. “I do, I forgive you for everything.” A weight lifted off my chest and suddenly I could breathe properly, which was weird considering that Brendon had just pulled me into a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you, fuck, thank you so much.” Brendon mumbled into my shoulder. I smiled against his tuxedo clad collar bone.

Sure I still loved him and watching him with Sarah hurt, but I couldn’t control it. He is happy with her and that should bring me enough solace. We pulled away from each other and smiled after taking in each other’s crying faces. It felt good. It feels like I was drowning and someone came along and finally saved me.

“I should go and have my first dance with my beautiful wife.” Brendon said and started getting up. I got up as well, my numb legs and knees threatened to drop me like a bag a potatoes, and moved aside after making a remark about how I am taller than Brendon in heels. He whined a little and lightly punched me. “She really is beautiful, by the way.” I said and he smiled before he started retreating.

Years and years of negativity and hatred and all it took was a tear jerking rant to find peace, maybe the universe didn’t hate me after all. “I did love you at one point, I just never told you cause I was a piece of shit back then.” Brendon remarked halfway through his retreat.

The ballroom was empty. No wonder people didn’t come up to us, everyone was out on the fairy lights lit patio, waiting for the first dance to be shared between the bride and the groom. I smiled a small, sad smile.

“I’ll always love you.”

You know what, I spoke too soon, the universe does hate me.

J��K#�

[tornrose24]

Only a Voice part 6 (A Moana fan fic/ Little Mermaid inspired AU)

Remember that this fan fic can also be found on fan fiction.net under my other name HolyMaiden24. Also the beginning A/N is slightly different here than in the fan fiction.net version.

This time:

-Moana sings a familiar song and we get to see her canoe

-Maui FINALLY recognizes Moana

-ominous trouble is hinted at for the future

-The author takes advantage of the A/N at the end to do something stupid that doubles as a shout out to another Disney film.

-*Somewhere on the edge of the fourth wall* Tamatoa stared in confusion at the writer, who looked like a blonde haired, green eyed version of Belle from Beauty and the Beast (that’s the closest we can get to describing the author’s actual appearance, unless you opted for Rapunzel). “Look,” The writer sighed as she held her hand out. “I know I take things too far, but I don’t want to anger a character that I really like to the point that I’m no longer on their good side. I just don’t want you going after the reviewers and I guess I wanted to express my affection at the same time. Plus trying to find your tsum-tsum is a pain in my rear so maybe that had something to do with this.” Tamatoa didn’t answer so the author took out her laptop. “Ok, there is only one way to redeem myself.” She typed something in and within seconds, there was a flash and the crab returned to his giant 50 ft tall self. “Is that better?” She asked. “I suppose I won’t kill you.” Tamatoa decided, though he was relieved to be turned back to normal. “Thanks!” The writer smiled and waved. “My gosh, I can’t believe that I would ever write a Disney fan fic. I even keep forgetting that you’re a Disney character. I thought I would at least write something for Beauty and the Beast since that’s my favorite film of them all... though funny enough I did have a mental image of a Beauty and the Beast AU for Tangled with Flynn as some sort of snake monster.” The writer added under her breath with a laugh before a thought struck her. “I’m writing a Disney fan fic.... I could do anything I want in the Disney universe.... Wait a minute, that means I could–! Hey, do you know where I can buy a bunch of tomatoes?!” The writer turned to Tamatoa who was now just confused. “Uh... no?” “Never mind, I can just write a bunch out for after this chapter!” The writer waved as she hurried off. -*back to our A/N*- I lucked on this in doing the most important section ahead of schedule which is why this came out so fast. Of course I might need to give myself another break since I got a paper I need to focus on. Anyway, I think this is a chapter where something that happens is bound to make my readers a little happy. Oh yeah and hopefully I don’t have to do a disclaimer on the song since you already know where it comes from.

Chapter 6: Compromise

Finally free to be herself in a place that very few were aware about, Moana allowed her spirit to escape through her singing as she walked down the dark tunnel with Pua beside her. She had no need for a torch as she knew where she was going after coming here so often. “We read the wind and the sky when the sun is high,” She sang the song of her ancestors as she hurried to get to the end of the tunnel where a faint light reflected onto the rocks and the sound of a nearby waterfall could be heard. “We sail the length of the ocean breeze.” Already she could feel her stress evaporate and she hurried the pace. “At night we name every star, we know who we are.” She finally reached the end of the tunnel to come across a large cave that seemed as if it could fit her entire village. Instead there were many great boats and canoes from an era long ago when voyaging was more of a way of life rather then staying in one place and occasionally visiting the other islands. Here was her heritage in all its glory and it was one that she was most proud to be a part of. Some of these boats were probably too old to be used again, but Moana felt that she knew better as they all still seemed to be alive and sturdy enough to go back on the ocean. “Who we are, who we are.” She sang as she broke into a big smile and ran towards the other side of the cave where a large body of water was connected to the ocean outside and the daylight filtered through a great waterfall and into the large cave to illuminate it. She raced towards the one boat that she treasured above them all; it was not as grand looking as the others, but it was just the right size for maybe one or two people to ride upon it and on its sail was a great spiral that reminded her of a whirlpool that could be found in the ocean. “I’m back!” Moana greeted the boat with a grin and got upon it. “I almost rode another boat a few days ago, but I still hope that it will be you that I get to ride out into the ocean!” She closed her eyes as she placed a hand on the sail cloth, while she could hear Pua catching up to her. “Can you remember it Pua?” Moana asked as she tried to recall how it felt to be on the ocean so many years ago. “Remember that one time we did go upon the ocean? How the surface below us rocked back and forth and eased our fears? Remember how the ocean smelled or how the wind blew against us? Remember what it was like to move without walking?” It had been so long, but that time when she got kidnapped was the only time where she was sure that she had ever truly experienced the ocean without being pulled away from it within seconds. She wanted more of it–what it felt like to ride over a great wave, to feel total control over a boat and move without walking, to let the sea and the winds guide her along her way. “Aue, aue,” She sang as she imagined this all in her mind. “We set a course to find a brand new island everywhere we roam. Aue, aue, we keep our island in our mind, and when its time to find home we know the way.” She wanted so badly to follow the path of her ancestors that her grandmother told her about so often. No one on this island seemed to like going out very far beyond the reef other than to meet with other islands, but she wanted more than that. She glanced down to find the oar that went with this boat and when she picked it up, she walked a little ways away from the sail but closed her eyes again as she allowed her daydreams to take over. “Aue, aue, we are explorers reading every sign,” She could envision the kakamora coming towards her upon their great ship and she pretended to paddle away from them as fast as she could. The wind was howling in her ears and caressing her long hair and the imaginary sun in the great blue sky warmed her body. If she could be pushing the oar through water instead of air then it would all feel a lot more real. “We tell the stories of our elders in a never ending chain.” She could see them coming towards her as they picked up the pace, but she stayed determined. She would never let herself be captured or bound against her will like last time. “Aue, aue,” She sang as she readied her oar. “Te fenua, te malie. Na heko hakilia,” The creatures were coming and getting on her boat. “We know the way.”  She held her oar out and right when she got to the end of the last note, she took a mighty swing as she pretended to knock her imaginary foes away. What she didn’t plan was for the oar to not only make her spin around due to how much force she put into it, but she felt it collide into something that created a loud ‘SMACK!’ sound. The impact was strong enough that it made her stumble backwards and nearly trip over her own feet. “Huh?!” She opened her eyes to see that her oar had collided right into the man without a voice, who was practically kneeling over and clutching his stomach in pain. “Oh my gosh!” She quickly let go of the oar as she hurried towards him. “I am so sorry!” She apologized as she had a hand to her mouth. “Are you alright?!’ The man waved his hand in an ‘It’s ok, I’m fine’ sort of way without looking up. “I didn’t mean to do that, I was pretending to hit something else!” Moana tried to explain herself before she realized that he was in the cave with her. “Wait, how did you find–oh.” She groaned as she slumped her head back. “Of course you followed me here.” Can’t I ever just have one moment to myself? She bitterly thought. No of course not because someone must hate me. Maui didn’t bother to answer as he sat down on the canoe while clutching his stomach and winced as the stinging died down. That attack should not have been that painful to him and yet the little princess somehow managed it. He wanted to know what the heck she was pretending to hit at and how on earth she managed to pack so much force in that one swing. Was she preparing to go up against a monster in the future? The realm of monsters would be in deep trouble if she ever entered it, if that were the case. “You won’t tell my dad about this, will you?!” Moana pleaded. “This is the only other place near the ocean where I can be alone without him getting mad at me!” When the man finally looked up, he was still wincing in pain but he still gave her a raised eyebrow and an annoyed look that clearly said ‘Are you serious?!’ Moana tried to protest, but she realized it wouldn’t help. Trying to resist and fight had gotten neither of them anywhere and it made matters a lot worse than they should have.  It made her all too aware of how much of an immature child she had been acting lately and she was just tired of it all. She gave up, let out a sigh, and sat down next to her companion. “Look, I’m sorry about all that I’ve done.” She began. “I know I’ve been acting like a spoiled brat instead of a chief like my father wants. And I know that some of the things I’ve done were unforgivable and I can’t take them back. Its just that being the next in line is a lot to take in sometimes and I just happen to find comfort in the very thing he hates.” She let out a frustrated laugh. “And I guess the way the things have been recently is clouding my judgement so I’d do anything to get a moment to myself.” As Moana shut her eyes and held her knees to her chest, Maui was finally starting to see the girl in all her vulnerability and not as the person he had known up until now. She was very spirited as well as being insanely stubborn, but when she was on that boat and singing her head off she became the happiest that he had ever seen her. It didn’t surprise him that much, considering who she had descended from, but he did find it odd that she (and to a certain extent, her own father) had to treat it as a forbidden delight. “I guess you heard me singing and saw me playing pretend on the boat, huh?” Moana asked. “The truth is that I don’t just go to the ocean to rebel against my father. I feel more like myself when I’m by it and I can relax after I have to deal with a lot of work. But more than anything–more than finally becoming a chief or getting my tattoos to mark my passage into womanhood–I want to take a boat out and sail upon the ocean. I want to do everything that my ancestors did and I want those simple things, like riding upon its surface. I know that sounds weird for someone like me, but I guess my parents just had to have a child who wanted to connect to the sea instead of the land.” She let out a weak laugh. “I try to, even if it isn’t easy at times. I take pride in the fact that I’m going to be the leader of my people and I want what’s best for them so I’m not as ungrateful as I must seem to be. I’ve tried to ignore the call of the ocean, but it still keeps calling for me.” She rested her head on her arms now. “Maybe you know what I’m talking about and maybe you don’t. Its ok if you don’t.” She added as she opened her eyes. There was a silence between the two as they reflected on the things that made them odd or out of place amongst the others. The only sound was that of the waterfall as it fell into the ocean below, and yet it was a comforting sound within what would have otherwise been a dead silence. Pua sat down upon the sand and observed the fact that, for one moment, there was no annoyance or amusement in Maui’s eyes towards Moana. Instead there was an unusual empathy within them that didn’t seem in character for him. It was interesting how, just within simple things like in the eyes, that there was more that could be revealed than within words or actions. And the truth was that he did understand that need to not be tied down in one place forever and that he did want to do what was best for the humans, even if it was difficult at times. “Father probably gave you a reason as to why he doesn’t want me to be near the ocean without an escort, let alone be in a boat, didn’t he?” Moana asked as she let go of her knees and let her legs hang off the boat. When Maui turned his head to nod at her, she continued. “One reason why my father doesn’t want me near the ocean is because his friend drowned in it when they were my age.” Moana began. “They tried to sneak out, but they took the wrong boat and the waves swallowed them up since it wasn’t designed to surpass them. Father obviously survived, but to this day he is afraid that mom and I could go the same way if we ever go out into the ocean. Yet there is also another reason that is a little more well known to the others,” She turned to Maui. “Did he tell you that I went missing when I was a child?” Maui nodded. “That’s the only part of the truth that he is open to sharing.” Moana prepared herself for this. “He doesn’t believe my story of what actually happened, so promise you won’t laugh when I tell you? I know it will be hard to believe when you hear it.” When Maui shook his head no, Moana told the story that only her grandmother believed in. “When I was a child, Pua and I also tried to sneak out in the dead of the night to get to the shore. What I didn’t expect was for these strange looking little creatures to come out of nowhere and kidnap the both of us. The next thing I knew, we were on the sea on a ship that was more like a large floating island of wood, debris, and who knows what else all tied together. Even the creatures looked as if they wore things that they collected throughout their lives.”
Wait a minute... Maui frowned at this as he realized that Moana was describing the kakamora’s ship. She even confirmed it when she continued “Grandma told me later that the creatures were none other than the kakamora. You know, like in the stories? I know its hard to believe, but anyway they kidnapped me because they knew that my father would do anything to get me back and they wanted to get supplies from him. I was ok with it at first until they said that they were going to eat Pua.” This was starting to sound oddly familiar to him. Actually it was familiar enough that it was as if it happened not that long ago. But it hadn’t been that long ago, hadn’t it? Wasn’t it many years ago long before this girl was even born? “So I kicked one and Pua and I tried to run away before they could hold us down. I had my hands tied behind my back and I could only kick them away. They caught up to Pua and I went back to help him when one of them sprayed something into my eyes and I was blinded by it.” Moana shuddered at the worst part of this memory, unaware of what kind of images she was creating in her companion’s mind. “I was terrified and I couldn’t see anything but darkness. I could only scream for help as they tried to surround me.” “NO, NO, NO!” He heard a child scream as he soared through the skies. “FATHER! MOTHER! SOMEONE HELP!” He looked down and he could see that the kakamora were surrounding a child and a small pig upon their ship. He had no clue why the little pests kidnapped a child, but he would not let them get away with it. “The next thing I recall is that I heard a bird cry out and they quickly let me go. It must have been a really large bird if they reacted like that.” The second he let out a cry in his hawk form, the kakamora realized who he was and let go of the child, who stumbled around as if she couldn’t see where she was going. “But then I was hit by something and I feel overboard into the sea.” The child suddenly fell into the ocean in the chaos and the pig was squealing its head off as it hurried to the edge and cried for the child. Without even hesitating, he dived towards the water and shifted into the form of a man right before he hit the water. “I thought I was going to drown. I was so terrified and I couldn’t swim at that time. Whatever hit me was making me fall asleep and just when I thought that I was going to die, I felt a hand grab me and I was pulled to the surface.” He found the girl as she struggled to swim up, but the binds that held her hands together made it impossible, so he grabbed her and swam up as fast as he could until they both broke through to the surface. He only allowed himself enough time to look at the child and he saw that a purple-black substance had covered her eyelids and she had lucked out in closing them before it could have gotten right into her eyes. She also had a dart lodged somewhere around her shoulder, which must have knocked her out and he realized that he had saved her just in the nick of time. He quickly turned himself into a hawk again and held onto her with one of his talons while the other went to grab the pig, who was terrified out of its mind. He lucked out in getting them as far away as possible and was forced to dodge the spears that were thrown at him. “I got you, kid!” He yelled. “Just hang on, I’ll get you somewhere safe!” There was only one known human inhabited island nearby where this child could have been taken from, but he first needed to get her a salve on her eyes before something bad would happen to them. “I fell asleep, but when I woke up I couldn’t see anything except for this blurriness in my eyes.” Moana waved a hand over her eyes. “I heard a man’s voice and when I was afraid that I had lost my sight forever, he reassured me and said that I wouldn’t and he even put a salve over them. Obviously he was right.” She laughed. He remembered the child and how terrified she had been; it made him happy to reassure her that she would be alright and she got excited over her adventure, which was an odd reaction for someone who went through what should have been a traumatic experience. Was Moana really that same child he rescued?! The same Moana who not only found him on the shore but had also been giving him so much heck was also the same child he once saved and who had offered her friendship without knowing who he was? “I remember that he joked about having the same thing happen to him and he told me that he saved Pua as well as me. When I thanked him, he pretty much sang the words ‘You’re welcome!’” She beamed as she threw her arms out and sang those words that he so often said in nearly the exact same tone he would use if he chose to sang it. It was this little detail that helped confirm that the child and this girl were truly one and the same. “I couldn’t make him out in my blindness.” Moana’s smile dimmed a little. “I wish I could find him and thank him once more. He didn’t find it crazy that I would want to go back to the ocean after what happened, and he supported my desire. He even told me that I could make a great explorer and that I could probably find myself in Lalotai one day. He was possibly one of the few people to ever support me being out there on the sea.” Moana let out a more genuine laugh before she frowned. “But its weird, I had this sense that he was lonely and depressed for some reason. So I wanted to be his friend and that seemed to make him a little happy.” During this whole time, Moana was unaware that Maui had this incredibly wide eyed look on his face as he listened to the entire story. In fact, if she had bothered to look, she would have seen that his jaw was about ready to hit the ground. How the heck did he not see it before?! Even now he was starting to see that it was indeed the same girl with the same features, though they had changed and matured a little since then. He could even finally see her true eye color now, which was a warm shade of brown. The more he looked, the more he couldn’t deny that Moana was indeed the same girl. Oh gods, that was right–when the people were calling out to her they used her exact name! How could he have forgotten that?! How did he not make that connection sooner through that alone?! He wanted to slap his face a hundred times over for not realizing this before; it could have saved him so much trouble. But wait a minute, didn’t that mean–? Maui looked down to see Pua finishing up with drawing a familiar looking fish hook in the sand and the pig determinedly pointed to it when he looked him in the eye. This time, Maui was able to figure out what Pua was trying to say through that symbol. Even the pig remembered him! In fact the pig was the only living thing on this island that knew who he really was! How could he have missed that too?! No wonder the creature still kept kept trying to draw his fish hook in the sand! The shocked look on Maui’s own face was enough for Pua to let out a big smile and sigh as he himself finally confirmed that both the demi-god and the man before him were truly one and the same after all. All Maui could do was quickly nod his head and put a finger to his lips before Pua could do anything to alert Moana. The pig’s eyes widened in confusion and Maui quickly stopped what he was doing before Moana could continue. “Maybe one day I’ll find him again, because I remember his voice.” Moana continued with a smile. “Its one of those voices you can’t forget. Its warm like when the sun is at its highest point in the sky and you feel better when you hear it. It was deep, but it was a friendly voice that was a little smug sounding at one point, but when he laughed I could just imagine him to be this big, happy guy. Even when he hugged me it felt the same way. Its like if you were to hug a mountain and the mountain hugs you back and you feel safe because of it.” When she turned her head, she saw that the man beside her was giving the most awkward look imaginable, though it was quickly joined by an amused smirk. She had no idea why until she remembered what she said. Uh, wow kid. Maui couldn’t help but think, although he liked how she described his voice and how he gave out hugs. “Argh its not like that!” Moana frantically waved her hands as she felt herself blush with embarrassment. “He could have been my dad’s age or even my grandmother’s age! He might not have even been human or–I just don’t–I swear I’m not romantically interested in him, I just want to see what he looks like and say thank you again!” Moana blurted out before she cringed and held her face in her hands. “Oh gods, why did I say any of that?!” Her reaction made Maui smile, but it also hid just how much he was frustrated. Only one thing could have changed everything and Moana would have known that she was sitting right next to the person who saved her long before they were at each others necks. If he could only say the two words he liked to say the most to mortals, then this matter would have been cleared in an instant. Of all the times he wished he could of had his voice back and not taken up that offer in the first place, this currently had to top them all. Someone out there must have really hated him to allow this to happen. Oh wait yeah there was (he was probably having a laugh over it somewhere under the sea) and Maui just had to fall for it. Unfortunately, if Moana realized who he was, then there would have been a good chance that she would have seen him as just a character in her life rather than an actual person, which he had to avoid if he wanted to survive his current ordeal. If she was the person who was to help him get out of this, then she had to know him for who he was which meant that something needed to be changed in their interactions with each other. Maui glanced back to the sail as he realized that there was now another reason why he would need to get his voice back as soon as possible. Moana had opened up to him more in this day than in the majority of the time he knew her since he showed up and though he couldn’t flat out tell her who he was, there was perhaps something he could do instead for her if he was extremely careful. After all, he didn’t earn a reputation of being a trickster for nothing. He got back up onto the boat and picked up the oar to examine it and when Moana finally turned around and saw what he was doing, she was able to pick up the hint he was trying to give her. “Can you sail?” She asked as she tried to forget the awkwardness of the last moment. “Not just any boat, but this kind?” Maui looked up from the oar and smiled as he nodded in confirmation. “Could you–?!” Moana excitedly began but then she realized how eager she seemed and how fast this could go in another direction. “Could you teach me?” Her voice was a little less certain. Instead of answering, Maui weighed the oar in his hand at an agonizingly slow pace as he gave Moana a waiting look. It took her a couple of seconds to get why he wasn’t answering her. “You... you want me to stop fighting with you, right?” Moana asked. He nodded but he still did the same movement. “And I’ll have to do everything you tell–err, show me, right?” Same reaction. “Ok, granted that might be hard but I guess you’ll find a way. And you won’t let my dad find out right?” Moana asked as she frowned. “If he finds out, then we both get in trouble.” She warned him.
This time he shook his head no. “And you better keep your promise and not tell him if you really mean to help me! I mean it, no take backs!” He nodded and Moana let out a relieved smile, though she was not fully convinced about this just yet. “Thanks.” Maui set the oar back down, got off the boat, and began to walk away. “Wait, not right now?” Moana asked as she hurried to get up and catch up to him. Maui only turned to give Moana a look she couldn’t read. “You’ll give me a sign or let me know though, right?” Maui nodded and turned around to head back. “By the way,” Moana added as she caught up to him as she realized she owed him something in return. “I–uh–thank you for helping us.” She finally said. “I don’t know what you’ve gone through and I don’t know where it is you need to go to or why when this is all over... but I just want to thank you for all your help and for putting up with me and the others in the meantime.” This made Maui hesitate and Moana waited to see how he would react. He turned around and gave her an appreciative smile as he placed his hand on her shoulder. She could once again feel the strength within his grip that matched his size, yet his hold now felt comforting. She watched as he mouthed something and she knew, without a doubt, what he was trying to say to her. ‘You’re welcome.’ Meanwhile, Pua was frustrated as he caught up to them. Why wouldn’t Maui allow Pua to let Moana know who he was? Did it have to do with his current appearance or why he couldn’t speak? He watched as Moana slipped out of Maui’s grasp and began to head back to the pathway that lead back to the island. As Maui turned around to follow her, the little creature let out a grunt of annoyance and trailed behind him while glaring at the former demi-god. But then, without any warning, something strange happened that caught Pua’s attention thanks to the amount of light that had managed to enter the cave through the waterfall. He thought he saw the ink on one of the tattoos on Maui’s arm waver for a moment like water rocking back and forth. Then the ink suddenly changed in shape and a small something that Pua could barely make out with what little light there was in the cave merged out of it. Whatever the thing was, it had a human shape and it gave Pua a quick wave before it merged back into the tattoo, just as Maui froze up and looked behind his shoulder. Maui moved his arm in a specific direction to try to see where he had felt the strangely familiar sensation upon his skin and even touched the spot with a hopeful look in his eyes. Maui looked at the spot for a couple of seconds before he gave up and walked away. Pua tried to comprehend what he just saw but he decided to save it for another time and continued to follow the others.

Later that night, Sina sighed in relief as she watched Moana speak to the man who she used to butt heads with until now from a distance near the fale. She was glad that her daughter was finally looking more at ease and that she seemed a little more confident now than she did this morning. She was also grateful that the tempest between the two had finally ended as it would make things much easier for everyone. “See, I told you so.” Sina felt Tui wrapped his arms around her and she placed her hands upon them. “I don’t know what happened since her practice, but its nice to see her smiling a genuine again.” He commented. “Well I suppose you were right this time.” Sina admitted. “What do you mean ‘this time’?” Sina snorted and let out a laugh. “Ok, you have been right more than once. Otherwise I doubt I’d have married you by now.” “And I would have had to rescue you from the big bad eel instead of trusting you to do it yourself.”
“Oh gods,” Sina groaned but she appreciated her husband’s sense of humor. “I wouldn’t have minded a little adventure but luckily I wasn’t that Sina.” “While we are on the subject,” Tui began as he traced imaginary circles on his wife’s arm. “Are you feeling any better? Your illness has been going on for quite sometime.” “It comes and goes.” Sina sighed. “Usually in the mornings.”
Tui stopped tracing the circles as a thought struck him. “You don’t think–?” He began. “I mean it sounds as if–” “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” Sina smiled as she caught onto what he was trying to suggest. “But its been so long since it happened before and I don’t know if it could happen again at this rate.”
“If it were, then I wouldn’t mind it.” Tui confessed. “That would be only one of two reasons why I would accept you being sick. The other is that I would get to tend to you.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Oh you tease!” Sina chuckled as she playfully swatted her husband on the arm. “You don’t really mean that!” Meanwhile, Moana waved farewell to her new friend and began to head back to the fale. Although she didn’t entirely trust him just yet, she was still hopeful that he would keep his word so now it was a matter of how this odd arrangement would work. As she walked to the fale, she saw her grandmother starring up into the sky some distance away. Confused as to why the woman was not at her home (and so far away at that) Moana headed towards her grandmother. As she got closer, she saw that her grandmother wore a very concerned look on her face and she was gripping her cane rather tightly. “Is something wrong?” Moana asked. “Are you considering a new tattoo?” She joked. Tala chuckled. “Ah, it would be fun, but no I’m afraid not.” She frowned at the dark night sky and the stars that illuminated it as well as a little of the moon that glowed brightly above them all. “Moana, I must ask you something that may sound odd. Does something about the sky seem out of place to you?” Moana took a moment to look at the night sky. “No?”
“Look everywhere.”
Moana obeyed and looked at the sky, but she couldn’t find anything out of place. “I don’t see anything.”
“Not even above us?” Moana looked up. “Nothing seems wrong.”
“Our ancestors used the stars to guide their way across the ocean to help them know where they were going.” Tala held her hand out in the position that the wayfinders used with all her effort. “As long as we had them, we could find our way. Yet there is a set of stars that has been missing for many nights, no matter how much I have looked. Up, down, left, right, I have looked everywhere and yet they are gone.” “Which ones?” Tala’s hand dropped. “That would be the ones that make the shape of Maui’s fish hook. It was said that following that constellation would lead you to him, no matter where he is, yet they have vanished without a trace.” The way Tala sounded concerned made Moana worried. It was never a good thing if her grandmother was deeply concerned about something. “What could that mean?” Moana asked. “Something must have happened to Maui and I fear that whatever it was, it was enough to make his stars vanish.” Tala bit her lip for a moment. “I doubt he is dead, but I have a bad feeling that whatever it was that caused the stars to vanish, it was not good. There���s no telling what will happen if this isn’t changed and I hope for Maui’s sake that this isn’t because he lost the favor of the gods or committed a terrible crime.” Tala shook her head and smiled. “Well, see you in the morning.” She made her way back to her fale and left Moana staring up at the night sky. “There would have to be a reason why his constellation has vanished.” Moana spoke to herself as a fear crept up inside her. “What could he have done to lose the favor of the gods, if there is no other reason?” She closed her eyes. “Please tell me that’s not the case.” She pleaded in hopes that the demi-god could hear her. “If you don’t live among us then you at least live on in our stories. You must know how much you mean to us so please don’t let us lose our faith in you. Otherwise I’d grab you by the ear and demand that you fix this.” She added with a scowl. She hoped that whatever had happened would be something that could be fixed and be done as soon as possible.

Well on one hand, Maui FINALLY knows who Moana is so now its a question of how soon SHE figures it out/learns who he is. On the other... well, we shall see since it looks like there still might be trouble on the horizon. And yeah, I confess that I wanted her to share Ariel’s role with Maui a little because it made too much sense. *laughs* I’ve rarely written out adorable married couple interactions, so I admit that the little interaction between Tui and Sina was enjoyable. Ok, ok. I better get this answered since I know you guys have asked me this a few times. So some of you wanted to know if I will make Tamatoa use Maui’s voice and some of you have probably been wondering that and haven’t asked in a review yet. If you don’t want any spoilers, I’d recommend avoiding this, but here is the answer. Ready? Ok? Alrighty then. Starting now. .....I’m horrible at this. Ok, NOW! You were warned. The answer is no. I’ve already hinted at it in the story a few times but I’m going ahead and confirming that Tamatoa is NOT going to use Maui’s voice because I cannot see him doing that. He’s a rather vain fellow and to him that would be stupid as he would rather use his own voice. I got something planned and I promise it will be good, but please be patient and try to avoid asking anymore about it because I don’t want to spoil anything that might be unique to this AU. Ok, then, I think I’ve gathered enough tomatoes now. Until next time, my readers. -*Somewhere in Renaissance era Paris, France*- What should have been an enjoyable festival was quickly ruined as the sky rained down  an endless storm of tomatoes upon the heads of what was a mob of cruel and mocking party goers. “WHAT SORCERY IS THIS?!” One of them screamed. On a wooden contraption that was somehow spared by this rain and in front of a person who had been tied down to a wheel was an oddly dressed female who was manically laughing her head off as she threw her hands to the sky. “REVENGE! SWEET REVENGE!” She cried out in joy. “IT’S NOT SO FUNNY WHEN YOU ARE ON THE OTHER END, IS IT YOU SICKOS?!” She yelled out to the crowd. “WHY DIDN’T I THINK OF THIS SOONER?!” She let out an evil sounding laugh. “GODS I LOVE BEING A FAN FIC WRITER!” “She is clearly an agent of the devil!” A creepy man in black pointed at her from his chair. “Grab her and burn her at the stake!” The female only let out a delighted grin and pulled a sword out. “FOR JUSTICE!” She screamed her head off as she leapt off the podium and ran towards the man. “THIS IS FOR THOSE WHO GET OPPRESSED BY PEOPLE LIKE YOU, YOU MISERABLE OLD-!” -*this scene is not to be continued as it deviates too much from the fan fic and we can’t afford a pointless filler chapter. The writer’s revenge fantasy in a Disney film is not as important as this fan fic and does not fit in with the fan fic in any shape or form. We apologize for any inconvenience and offer Disneyland balloons to make up for this.*-

[mysteryshelf]

SLEUTHING SATURDAY SPECIAL - Fatal Option

DISCLAIMER: This content has been provided to THE PULP AND MYSTERY SHELF by Smith Publicity. No compensation was received. This information required by the Federal Trade Commission.

About the Book:

The Hotly Anticipated New Novel From Lambda Literary Award Finalist…

NAIL-BITING THRILLER EXPLORES THE DEVASTATING MORAL CONSEQUENCES OF A DANGEROUS CHOICE

  “A sharp, intelligent thriller. Really top-notch.”

– Neely Tucker, Washington Post staff writer & author of Only The Hunted Run

  “A wintery tale of violence and redemption, artfully balanced by a touching portrayal of a family in crisis.”

– Peter Swanson, author of The Kind Worth Killing

  “Fatal Option grabs you from the first page. Plan to stay up.”

– Kathleen Antrim, former Co-President of International Thriller Writers & author of Capital Offense

  Would you break the law to save your child?

Stephen Porter finds himself facing this very question – with life or death consequences – in Fatal Option, the hotly anticipated new thriller from Lambda Literary Award finalist Chris Beakey, set for release on February 21, 2017 with Post Hill Press.

Fatal Option opens on the coldest night of the year, with Stephen pulled from a dreamless sleep by a midnight phone call. His 17-year-old daughter, Sara, is stranded in the blizzard, crying in terror and begging for his help. It would be a no-brainer if he hadn’t gone to bed just an hour before after a night of binge drinking alone.

With blurred vision and unsteady balance, Stephen knows it’s dangerously irresponsible to get behind the wheel. But he hits the winding, icy roads of Maryland’s Catoctin Mountains to bring his daughter home.

High school teacher Kieran O’Shea is also behind the wheel on that fateful night, searching for his autistic younger brother, Aidan. Kieran is also terrified – of the voices in his mind, of the probability that Aidan will be taken from him, and of the certainty that he will soon be arrested for murdering three women.

In a matter of minutes, Stephen will encounter Kieran and drive headlong into a collision that will force him to question everything he thought he knew about his family – and to protect his children from violence that hits all too close to home.

A murder mystery wrapped around a heartbreaking moral dilemma, Fatal Option is already being lauded by the who’s-who of the American thriller community, with bestselling author Jordan Dane calling it, “emotionally visceral,” and Norb Vonnegut praising the “relentlessly suspenseful” pacing and intrigue of Beakey’s sophomore release.

“Fatal Option is very much about an option,” says Beakey, “a choice that a good man makes in a desperate situation. Of course, the worst possible thing that could happen… happens. But sometimes bad decisions seem like the only decisions. What I really want readers of Fatal Option to ask themselves is: what would you do?”

  Interview with the Author:

What initially got you interested in writing?

  I’ve always been a storyteller – some of my earliest memories are of reading books I liked and then wanting to go off into my room to write my own stories. I wasn’t a very good student growing up – wasn’t very good at investing energy in subjects like mathematics and science that didn’t interest me. But I loved English and literature and always put extra effort into every assignment that enabled me to write. I believe that one of the greatest advantages any kid can have is to discover the thing that he or she is meant to do, and to have the resources to pursue excellence in that very thing. For one kid it might be auto mechanics. For another it might be politics. For me it was always the storytelling.

  What drew you to writing thrillers?

  I write the same types of stories that I love to read – those driven by suspenseful forward momentum, realistic characters, and high-stakes circumstances. I’ve always been a worrier – spend so much time thinking about bad things that can happen. I’ve found it useful to work those anxieties into frightening scenarios. I can’t say that writing really lessens my anxieties, but I always feel better when my characters who are good people overcome the threats posed by bad people.

  How did you break into the field?

  It took decades . . . I had to spend many years learning how to write, mostly on my own by reading a lot, writing every day, and coming to understand my voice and the types of stories I wanted to tell. I wrote four books before I found an agent, who sold my first novel, Double Abduction, to a small publisher who brought it out in hardcover. It sold well and was a finalist for the Lambda Literary Award. I spent another nine years writing and pitching my second novel, Fatal Option, published by Post Hill Press and distributed by Simon & Schuster. Like most writers, I dealt with all kinds of rejection amid glimmers of encouragement. For me, “breaking in to the field” was kind of like being on a decades-long episode of “Survivor” . . . with one key exception in that there were many great people who supported and inspired me along the way.

  What do you want readers to take away from reading your works?

  Good people can be thrust into very bad situations. Often, those good people have to make dangerous choices. Sometimes those choices are morally and legally questionable, but good people will always make their choices for reasons that seem right at the time. Meanwhile, most good people do things they’re not proud of, and quite often bad people can be redeemed.

  What do you find most rewarding about writing?

  The day-to-day and moment-by-moment mysteries of the whole process bring me joy and a feeling of calm accomplishment. And one of the best rewards is seeing the people, places and plots you imagine coming to life in a way that people connect to. That’s the kind of reward I got when I saw the cover to Fatal Option, and as I read the Goodreads reviews from everyday readers (https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30753471-fatal-option) and every time I watch this amazing trailer, which captures what Fatal Option is about in the most chilling way: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pbw81Y9XtY

  What do you find most challenging about writing?

  Trying to be better and better at it . . . recognizing that’s a lifetime objective. Dealing with the frustrations you feel when it isn’t working. Staying upbeat in the face of rejection. Investing weeks, months and perhaps even longer in a story before coming to the realization that it isn’t going to work. And lastly, seeing great books going undiscovered while not-so-great books get thrust by publishing’s most powerful forces onto the point-of-purchase displays that tell people what to buy.

  What advice would you give to people wanting to enter the field?

  If you want to write, you need to set aside the time, every day if possible, to do so. Try to find the time when you’re naturally most creative. Write about the things that make you emotional – whether that means being frightened, or amused, or just deeply engaged. If you’re really determined to succeed, stay with it, no matter how frequent and/or coarse the rejections. Find friends who also like to write and who love to read. Support them by offering your candid thoughts on what they’re doing and welcoming the same from them. Be easy on yourself when you get frustrated, but push yourself toward constant improvement and an open mind about what constitutes true quality.

  What type of books do you enjoy reading?

  I typically read thrillers and stories driven by rapid pacing and suspense because these are the types of books I enjoy and strive to write. Every once in awhile I’ll read something that strays into the “literary” category, but I almost never read anything described as “a cozy mystery” or about a private eye who drinks a lot (unless it’s written by Dennis Lehane or unless I’m re-reading Raymond Chandler’s stories).

  Is there anything else besides writing you think people would find interesting about you?

  People close to me say I’m a good listener, which is probably true since I like to listen for awhile before I say anything. I’m relentlessly optimistic – which is partly the way I’m wired but also a conscious choice. I’m ridiculously spacey – am obsessed with this crazy and scary scenario where I lose my wallet the day I’m supposed to get on a plane and fly somewhere, or losing it right after I’ve landed and before I’ve checked into my hotel. I daydream a good bit of every day worrying about worst-case scenarios. I have cocktails at the end of every day, preferably accompanied by good conversation, a good book, or some amazing offering on Netflix or Amazon. I have a day job with a huge amount of responsibility, but act pretty goofy there, which is OK because everyone around me’s pretty cool.

  What are the best ways to connect with you, or find out more about your work?

  I love hearing from readers and connecting with other writers. I’m especially interested in knowing what readers think about the morally and legally-questionable choices made by Stephen Porter in Fatal Option. I want to know what they would have done in the same situation, and why. I can be reached by email at chrisbeakey@verizon.net, and via Facebook. I also have a web site at www.chrisbeakey.com, and a blog where I post my short stories, novel excerpts and book reviews at www.blog.chrisbeakey.com.

  About the Author:

Chris Beakey tells stories of good people caught in bad places. He writes fiction from his homes in Washington, D.C. and Lewes, Delaware, as well as nonfiction as a ghostwriter for an organization that promotes bipartisan policies that strengthen the nation through smart investments in youth. His first, novel, Double Abduction, was a finalist for the Lambda Literary Award.

  Connect with Chris Beakey on Facebook, Goodreads and at www.chrisbeakey.com.

  Fatal Option [Post Hill Press] will be released February 21, 2017, and is currently available for pre-order via Indiebound, Amazon and wherever fine books are sold.

  SLEUTHING SATURDAY SPECIAL – Fatal Option was originally published on the Wordpress version of The Pulp and Mystery Shelf