#is by insulting his intelligence at every opportunity

[bloodysparklez]

"rivalry".png

[dream-with-a-fever]

ron weasley did not

come to privet drive to rescue harry from his abusive home after he hadn’t been replying to any of his letters and he was worried

almost back out of following the spiders bc they’re his biggest fear, but upon seeing hermione’s empty seat at dinner, find the courage to go

defend hermione from any and everyone who called her a mudblood

constantly worry about hermione’s workload (especially in 3rd year) and notice that whenever she disappeared

offer to teach hermione his entire family tree so that she could pretend to be pure blood to keep her safe from death eaters

defend harry to everyone (percy, seamus, half the school) when everyone thought he was lying about voldemort’s return

stand up on his broken leg in front of harry and say that “if you want to kill harry, you’ll have to kill us first!” to what they believed to be a raving lunatic mass murderer

gift dobby his newest weasley jumper and the new socks he got given for christmas

stand up against snape when he was bullying hermione (and got a detention as a result)

beg the deatheaters who were torturing hermione to “leave her alone!! take [him], have [him] instead!”

always check up on his friends when he notices something is up, even if it’s in subtle ways

immediately befriend harry on the train in ps and teach him about the wizarding world

write to charlie immediately so he could help hagrid out of trouble (re the dragon, norbert)

encourage neville to stand up to people, and praise him when he actually does it

help harry put on his pajamas after he broke his arm during quidditch

have to be physically restrained from attacking malfoy after he said he wished hermione had died in cos

worry about harry’s preoccupation with the mirror of erised and how it was affecting him

remind hermione to eat her meals and get a good night’s sleep when she’s studying 24/7 for their owl exams

display acute levels of emotional intelligence in the way he interacts with harry and hermione, essentially being the glue that keeps them all together

get splinched almost in half, lose blood and suffer agonising pain but seem more worried about the cattermoles and whether or not they were okay

realise his mistakes & own up to them, acknowledging his role in certain falling outs (especially in deathly hallows)

be genuinely hilarious and fun, and lighten the load in everyone else’s’ lives with the humour he brings to

write to his mother in ps asking her to give harry presents too because he doesn’t think he’ll received any

go to the department of mysteries to help harry without a second a thought

go on the run with harry to hunt for horcruxes without a second thought

run to hermione’s aid when malfoy hits her with a nasty hex outside snape’s classroom and take her to the hospital wing

help hermione with buckbeak’s appeal, spending hours upon hours reading up on the case

extend the first olive branch after fighting with hermione because of scabber’s “death” and apologising, after which she then apologises too

demand to re-try out for the position of keeper on the quidditch team because he wanted to earn it himself with no favouritism or help

choose to stay on the quidditch team despite the bullying from the slytherin team and his nerves about his flying ability

stand up to malfoy at every opportunity, when he was insulting him, but more importantly, insulting his family & his friends

save harry’s life in dh by pulling him out of the lake, and then kill the horcrux

remember the houseelves during the battle of hogwarts and worry about their safety

continue to admire and adore his older twin brothers despite the fact that they were sometimes cruel to him

become almost annoyingly protective of his little sister (ESPECIALLY after the diary situation)

single-handedly out smart and escape five armed and deadly snatchers

try his best to overcome his insecurities and feelings of being overlooked, in order to support the people around him

sacrifice himself without a second thought during the chess game in ps because he knew harry’s survival was more important than his

for y’all to speak on him the way you do. calling him cruel, evil, selfish etc??? open your fucking eyes

[oceansblvds]

petals ; coriolanus snow

pairing ; coriolanus snow x reader

words ; 1.7k

about ; "The harshness and brazen demeanor that enveloped him when you were around seemed to melt away with time, this certain activity that the two of you engaged in became more of a delightful reprieve than something to do to release tension."

warning(s) ; smut, fingering, p in v sex, not edited, just a short blurb kinda?

authors note ; hello! this is me putting myself out there as a snow writer bc im obsessed with tom blyth. so anyways. please feel free to request fics or headcanons or blurbs! i hope u enjoy :)

Life in the Capital was nothing but lavish for you. 

With your family’s status, extravagant balls were somewhat a staple in your life, along with all the beautiful shoes that you wore as you walked your way into the academy, or the five star meals you were allowed to eat every night. You didn’t know how to be poor, it simply wasn’t in your blood to have anything less than what your life offered you. And that was incredibly obvious for the way that you held yourself in the presence of others. Having been groomed by your mother and father to be the perfect heir to their fortune, they didn’t expect anything less than you. You were beautiful, you were intelligent, and you knew how to control a situation and a conversation as if it was the back of your hand. 

And that simply aggravated him. 

He wasn’t sure when it had really started, this loathing for you. Perhaps it was when you purposely had him suspected of cheating on a test when you two were in your first year of the Academy, or perhaps it was the fact that you knew that he hadn’t cheated, you were simply intimidated by his intelligence. Wherever you stood academically, Coriolanus was always on your heels, just behind you clawing at your back to get ahead of you in anything. And sometimes he did manage to do better than you, and that was when he felt the most happy around you. When you were an absolute mess, a stupid look on your face as you tried to come up with an excuse as to why you didn’t do as well as him. Oh, that was where he was happiest. But he hated you, he loathed you. At least that’s what he told himself in the midst of his obsessive fixations about you, how he would sit alone in his bed at night in his run down home and think about the fact that you were probably eating your second meal of the night and you were going to sleep in silk sheets that got changed every single week. 

And that simply aggravated you. 

How he always assumed that the only reason why you were as intelligent as you were was because of your family. You didn’t know that he was actually secretly poor, but regardless of it, the Snow's wealth had never reached the high peak that yours did in the past. That much was obvious, you could see it in the way that he dressed himself that he was lesser in status. And you took every opportunity to remind him of it, every single breath that was spent around him was an insult, a jab, trying your best to get into his head. And he did much of the same. You two hated each other, it had always been that way and it would always stay that way. 

That was, until the two of you had been paired up for a project together. Something about how to better raise attention for the Hunger Games, how to make them more enjoyable. You two had been at your house when you prepared for it together, the slight arrogance in your heart not even noticing the way that he had completely dodged all your questions about working at his place. It had gotten late, and despite the normal amount of bickering between the two of you, the bickering turned into a crude form of flirting. He said that your mouth could be used for such better things rather than to insult him the way that you did, and you were desperate to prove to him wrong. You wouldn’t fall for the flirtations of Coriolanus Snow, you were so sure of it. But soon enough, his lips were on yours and your clothes were on the expensive carpet of your room and you two had your limbs tangled in the silk sheets. A month passed, and like clockwork, the two of you would end up with each other with your clothes off. It didn’t matter the reason or the place, it always happened. 

He pushed you into the cold, almost sterile lab table, muttering something under his breath about how he only had a few minutes before he needed to go to lunch. You laughed, the sound getting cut off by his lips placing themselves on your own, like they always did. His kisses were bruising, like he was trying to prove something, and maybe he was. The harshness and brazen demeanor that enveloped him when you were around seemed to melt away with time, this certain activity that the two of you engaged in became more of a delightful reprieve than something to do to release tension. You paid no mind to it. 

“Then you better make those few minutes worth it,” You whispered, taking note of the footsteps that you could hear from outside the door. This wasn’t the first time that you had snuck around in the University, but every time it did fill you with a sense of urgency to get things started lest the two of you be caught. 

Coriolanus let out a chuckle. “I always do.” His lips pressed to the skin of your throat, teeth grazing against your pulse point before sucking on it loosely, enough to make a mark for only a moment. 

Cheeky. You thought to yourself, your hands finding refuge in his blonde hair, certain tufts of it retaining the curliness that you had known them to have during your time at the Academy. You pulled him closer, ever so closer, like you didn’t want to let him go. His hands helped to lift you up onto the lab table, your legs opening and his body slotting in between them, a perfect practiced dance. The University uniform was much more relaxed than the Academy’s was, a low cut black skirt making for easy access during these moments in between classes and lunch. His hips grinded against yours for only a moment, a gasp escaping your lips that was captured by another searing hot kiss, enough to know that he was telling you to be quiet. He continued to kiss you as his hand came down under your skirt, fingertips ghosting against your inner thighs before reaching where you wanted him most. 

He was met with a wet, sticky mess, an after effect of the fact that the two of you hadn’t fucked in over a week. Despite all of his brain power wanting to tease you for it, he found himself keeping this as a silent victory, the pad of his thumb coming in contact with your clit, slipping one finger in and curling it. You arched your back forward only slightly, already conveying the message that you wanted him inside you already. “Patience,” He whispered. 

You whined. He was the one who wanted to go to lunch anyways, and now he was stringing you along? You had half a mind to fight back, but the words died in your throat as he added a second finger, slipping in almost effortlessly. He continued to pump them in and out at a languid pace, his left hand holding your waist so that you couldn’t move. He was keeping the rhythm, not you. All the while his thumb kept rubbing against your clit, making you a squirming mess in his hands like putty. 

“Coriolanus,” You breathed. “Come on, please.” 

He hummed in response, acting as if he didn’t hear you. But he did, because soon enough he was withdrawing his fingers, hands working to free himself from his neatly pressed pants, his cock springing free in a matter of seconds. You wrapped your hands around his neck, his face coming into the crook of your own as he guided himself towards your entrance, the tip of his cock grazing as if to tease, before sheathing itself in. Once he bottomed out, he already started a fast rhythm, giving you little to no time to adjust. but you were so needy you didn’t care, not one bit because he was making you feel so good that you wished for this moment to last forever. and you were already so wet and willing, Coriolanus couldn’t wait a second longer. 

If he was tired from staying up all night to finish homework and studies, he didn’t even show it. Coriolanus fucked into you with such a frenzy that it was almost animalistic, which made you wonder how much energy this man possibly had. What you didn’t know was it was your moans what were spurring him on, your moans that kept him going. And you loved it so much that you couldn’t think straight. all you could do was try and keep yourself still, words stringing together into barely put together sentences of oh fuck yes and that feels so good. It was a moment of such pure bliss that you didn’t even feel yourself start to clench around him, noticing it finally when you felt every inch of him scrape against your willing walls, bringing you closer to that cliff into a sea of pleasure that only he could give you. What finally made you break was the groans that he was making, which were hot and heavy and like heaven to your ears that you knew you would be playing on repeat before you went to sleep tonight. 

His hand slipped between your legs, pressing up against your swollen clit and that was it. You were sent into a state of pure, fucked out bliss as you came around him, your moans being muffled by the shirt he was wearing, your mouth pressed against it to try and stifle all your noises in the moment. With a few more demanding thrusts, Coriolanus was spilling himself inside of you, a groan of contentment falling from his lips as his head dropped to your shoulder. Your legs were still wrapped around him, shaking from the change of pace, relishing in the moment that the two of you were sharing together. You barely had any time to refocus yourself before he was pulling out, a few remnants of his cum dripping out of you that you saved by pushing your underwear back into place. 

“Lunch better still be in the cafeteria,” He spoke, zipping up his pants and latching his belt. “If it’s not, you’re buying dinner tonight.” 

You cocked your head to the side. “Dinner?” Usually you two would never go out together. But before he answered, Coriolanus had already left the room. 

[pariahsparadise]

Can we get an enemies to lovers with JJ Maybank x gn!reader-

JJ and reader just annoy the hell out of each other, but maybe A gets into a fight and B decides to patch them up. They end up confessing to each other. <3

nav. | m.list

a/n: i haven't written in over a year, maybe two. this is completely unedited and also not proofread AT ALL. sorry this is so late and so shitty, anon from april 2023.

pairings: jj maybank x gn!reader

wc: 1.3k

"What are you doing here?"

JJ starts, and is immediately punished by the pang of pain that rushes through his body. He pretends not to notice how your eyes glance over him, analytical, filing away every sign of weakness. He hates being vulnerable, especially when it's in front of you, but he doesn't exactly have a choice.

"Can I come in?" he asks, instead of answering your question. Wordlessly, you step aside, letting him walk past you before closing the door softly.

"Bedroom," you tell him, your tone gentler now. He wishes that's how you always talked to him. "I'll go get the first-aid kit."

JJ nods and finds his way to your bedroom, passing the framed certificates and shelves that adorn the hallway, filled with stacks of trophies and medals that you amassed over the years. Although he usually makes fun of you for being such a nerd all the time, the gold is a stark reminder of how you're actually extremely intelligent. You're worth something. Unlike him.

Maybe his issue with you has always been jealousy. Jealous that you've managed to achieve so much for a Pogue, despite having had the same opportunities as him. But it's more likely that he hates you because you're so icy, rational in your arguments, your words always so polished as they slice into him, cutting him down. He can see the judgement in your eyes when he smokes weed or drinks in front of you, when he cracks a stupid joke about the brunette he had in his bed the other day. He can feel the contempt in the insults you hiss at him when he goes too far and pisses you off completely.

But despite it all, he hates that he still wants to win your approval. That he wishes you would let him make you laugh like John B does, or sling an easy arm around you the way Kiara can.

He sits on your chair when you gesture for him to, placing the medical kit on the table next to it. JJ finally takes the time to focus his eyes on you, glancing over your white night shirt and impossibly short shorts. He feels a pang in his chest. There are dark circles under your eyes, and your hair is all messy. He obviously woke you up from some much-needed sleep. If he plans to win you over, which would already be extremely hard at this point, this would definitely be another set-back. Based on his past experiences, you're not particularly kind when you're sleep-deprived.

Which is why he's surprised when you begin cleaning his bleeding knuckles with the kindest touch in the world. The warm cloth is not nearly as comforting as the feel of your palm on his skin is, and he represses the urge to sigh.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" you ask him, moving on to apply some antiseptic to his cuts.

"Why should I tell you anything?" JJ asks, attacking you unthinkingly, reverting to his natural state of being in conflict with you. You stay uncharacteristically quiet, not responding to his taunt, and after standing still for a second, you go back to cleaning his knuckles.

Fuck. JJ's eyes fall shut, and he groans inwardly. Here you are, having let him into your home and bedroom, cleaning his injuries, and he's still being a dick to you.

"I'm sorry, I-" he suddenly gets cut off by your hands cradling his jaw, lifting his face up. JJ nearly gasps, and flushes out of his embarrassment when he sees your raised eyebrow, knowing you caught his reaction.

"Well, I was just going to apply some cream to the bruises forming here," you say, and you trail your fingers along his jaw, "but if it's such a problem, maybe I-"

"It's not a problem," JJ says, too quickly.

Without another word, and only the sliver of a self-satisfied smile, you treat his jaw and face.

JJ has always known he loves being the center of your attention. He revels in it, the way you glare at him after he provokes you, the way you yell when he steals your book. He loves being the only thing on your mind. But sitting here now, feeling your thumbs smooth along his cheekbones and your soft gaze, he knows there's most definitely a better way to receive it.

"What happened?" you ask again, and this time he tells you. Some tourists had been disrespectful to Kiara's parents at their restaurant, and it escalated to a fist fight between Kiara's dad and JJ and four other guys. The tourists must have had some level of common sense, because they more or less went easier on Kiara's dad, laying harder into JJ to make up for it.

"Assholes," you say when he's finished, barely concealed rage in your eyes as you appraise JJ and the injuries on his body with new context.

"It's fine, really," JJ reassures you, standing up. "Thanks for cleaning me up, but I should be on my way now-"

"Sit the fuck down." you spit at him, and he drops back into the chair with astonishing speed. "Take off your shirt. That fight was practically four-on-one, I'm not going to believe that you walked away with just grazed knuckles and a few bruises to your face."

Hesitantly, JJ removes his shirt. To your credit, you don't audibly react to the massive craters in his skin, colouring him in shades of ugly red and purple. Your eyes widen slightly, and after a few long seconds, you're back to normal and treating him with the same gentleness as before.

"Thank you for this," he says, more earnestly this time. You let out a hum in response, too busy doing your best to alleviate his pain. He goes on, "I mean it. You didn't have to do this, and I appreciate it."

You let out a sigh, raising your eyes to his face, "Of course I had to do this, JJ, it's the decent thing to do. I wasn't going to turn you away in the middle of the night, not in the condition you're in."

"Even if you think I'm some heartless bitch," you add, a moment later.

"I don't think that," JJ says, earning a scoff from you.

"Right," you mutter, straightening up and away from him. You pack the materials back into the kit and shut it with a loud snap, which is when JJ realises that you're done treating him. He puts his shirt back on and gets ready to make his exit when you stop him, again.

"Just sleep here tonight," you tell him, gesturing at your bed.

"What-no. Where will you sleep?"

"The couch." You don't even let him say two words of protest before immediately cutting him off, "Don't be obstinate. It's too uncomfortable there for you, especially considering the state of your torso, it's too late for you to walk back home or call someone to pick you up, so you'll stay here. I'll text John B to pick you up in the morning."

JJ listens to all this, taken aback by the amount of thought you've put into taking care of him. He scans your face, noting with surprise that your cheeks pink slightly when you make eye contact with him.

"What?" you say, a little flustered. He just laughs quietly, "Nothing. Just didn't realise you cared about me so much, 's all."

"Again, not a heartless bitch. Of course I care about you."

And just like that, there's a tectonic shift. The two of you are relatively unchanged, but there's this unspoken understanding that passes between you. It's the reason why you're able to press a soft kiss to an unblemished part of JJ's cheek before you slip out of the room, and why he's able to put his arm around you late one night when the whole group is hanging out at the Chateau.

He can't help but feel that the beating was worth it, really.

[fan-of-many24]

It’s you I want

(George O’Malley x gn!reader angst Alex Karev x gn!reader fluff)

Details: Nurse Y/N has fallen for Dr. O’Malley, but is overlooked time and again.

(Reader is described as shorter than Karev and O’Malley)

Word Count: 3.28k

You worked as a nurse at Seattle Grace for the past four years. You’ve seen your fair share of interns, some have stayed, some left, some are obnoxious and arrogant, and others are so passive that they get flushed out.

At first, this is what you thought would happen with George O’Malley. There were many times when you were at the nurses station, watching him get overshadowed by his fellow interns. You felt bad for him, and there was his whole puppy thing going on, so there were times when you would help him with his scut work, giving him pointers here and there.

After a while, you felt your feelings grow from pity, to friendship, to admiration. George was sweet, and caring. He would tell you about his family during downtimes, and you would talk about yours. You felt a connection with him that you haven’t felt in a while. But he also talked to you about Meredith. He would talk, and talk, and talk some more. He would gush about her beauty and her intelligence, how funny she was, every single quality was attractive to him. She was everything you weren’t. You knew nursing was in no way lower than being a doctor, but you felt somehow smaller than her.

But even with his feelings for Meredith you couldn’t put aside your own feelings for George. How he would bring you coffee in the mornings, buy you a little snack whenever you were having a rough day, hold you while you cried if you lost a patient. It was so hard to not fall for George O’Malley, and tried as you might you did.

You were venting to another nurse about your feelings for George.

“I just can’t get George out of my head,” you sighed, “he’s just so damn cute and so caring.”

“Y/N, honey, you have to tell him.” your friend responded.

“I can’t,” you shook your head, “not when he has eyes for someone else.”

A sweet voice butted in, “Who has eyes for someone else?”

You jumped and swiveled in your chair to see George standing there, leaning against the station. The other nurse took the opportunity to get back to her work. Your cheeks heated and eyes widened, “How much of that did you hear?”

“Not much, just the end part about having eyes for someone else.” George explained, “So who’s the lucky guy?”

You breathed a subtle sigh of relief to this, “Nobody, really, it doesn’t matter.” You tried to go about your work.

“C’mon, Y/N,” he groaned, “this is the first time you’ve expressed interest in someone!”

That he knew.

You could tell he wasn’t about to let this go. You looked around, hoping to get an idea of what to say.

Eventually your eyes land on Dr. Karev talking to Dr. Stevens.

“Karev.” You stated, hoping he believed it.

George widened his eyes and shook his head quickly at that. “Alex? Really? He doesn’t seem like your type.”

He’s not.

“I don’t know something about him,” you lied, “he’s just so dreamy.”

You internally vomited. Alex Karev was a manwhore and hellspawn. He’s slept with half of the nurses, and insulted the other half. He hadn’t done either in his short interactions with you, luckily, but that didn’t help your opinion of him.

George was silent for a few seconds, blinking a bit rapidly, before he smiled at you.

“How about I set you up on a date with him?” he suggested.

Now you were gonna vomit.

“Oh no,” you shook your head and your hands, “no need, besides I don’t think he’d go for someone like me?” Your chest tightened in dejection.

“Someone like you?” George asked in surprise, “Y/N, you’re amazing! I can’t imagine anyone would turn you down.”

You bit your lip, chest tightening even more. George didn’t realize how he was squeezing your heart, threatening to destroy it. You thought about it for a second before you closed your eyes.

“Fine,” you sighed.

“Alright!” he jeered, “Y/N, I know what it’s like not to be noticed. You deserve this, even if I don’t really understand your interest in him.”

You sighed once more before George gave you two thumbs up and backed away before rushing off.

Once he was out of sight you groaned and dropped your head into your hands.

You heard the swivel of a chair once more, “you’ve gotten yourself into a big mess here, Y/N.”

You turned your head to look to your friend again, “Who knows, maybe Alex will help me get my mind off George.”

Not letting your mind linger on the thought much longer, you went back to work checking in on patients and updating charts. Before long you forgot about George’s suggestion, focusing completely on your work.

The end of the day came and you were getting ready to punch out before a knock on the desk alerted you to the presence of someone in front of you. You looked up to see none other than Alex Karev. Your eyes widened and you saw George not too far behind him giving you two thumbs up.

“Y/N,” Alex smiled, “a little birdie told me you may have taken a bit of an interest in me.”

You gave him a thin smile back, blinking at his boldness.

“Did they? And what do you think of that?” you asked, hoping for rejection.

“I think,” he leaned in, “I should take you out to dinner.”

Your cheek flushed. You weren’t used to someone taking an interest in you, let alone be so forward with it.

“Um, yeah, sure.” you stammered, smiling shyly.

“Drinks tomorrow? Meet here at 8?” he suggested with a sly smile.

“Sure,” you agreed, “it’s a date.”

Alex smiled and knocked once more, walking away.

Your heart was beating faster than you thought it would. Unexpectedly so.

“Sooo…” George inquired, worried.

“We’re getting drinks tomorrow.” you smiled a bit wistfully.

“What?”

“What?”

“You’re going on a date?” George asked incredulously.

You recoiled a bit at that, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing just…” he trailed

“No, go on.” you insisted, getting a bit heated, “what do you mean?”

“You just don’t seem like his type.” he admitted.

You blinked at him a few times and licked your teeth.

“Am I undateable?” you urged, nodding your head.

“What?!” George almost shouted, “No, that’s not what I meant.”

“That’s what it sounded like.” you countered, “I’m not a nun. Men find me attractive.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Y/N.”

“No, you’re just surprised that he would go on a date with me.” you stated roughly, “You know what George, I’m heading out.”

You clocked out, grabbing your bag and rushed away.

The drive home had you stewing, angry punk music playing over the radio. When you got home you slammed the apartment door closed, thinking of George’s reaction to your date with Alex. He was the one who suggested a date, why would he do that if he didn’t think it would happen? Where did he find the audacity to tell you that you weren’t Alex’s type? You had listened to him go on and on about Meredith, so why was he acting like this when something romantic was happening to you?

All of these thoughts ran through your head before another solidified within your mind. You were going to treat tomorrow like an actual date. Whether you were originally interested or not, you are now. You went to the bathroom to prepare for the next day, shaving, exfoliating, and a face mask. You went to bed determined to make the date successful.

The morning came and you had a shift right before the date. You wore your scrubs but packed your best outfit for after, making sure that it wouldn’t get too wrinkled.

You went about your day as you would usually, except for avoiding George here and there. Any time that you would see him approaching you shot him a look that led him away. You were still pissed off and didn’t want to see him.

The day came to an end and you changed into your outfit. It fit you in all the right places, putting your best features on display. You looked into the mirror, fixed a few pieces of hair and sighed. You were actually anxious, and not in a I-don’t-wanna-go way but in a I-want-this-to-go-well way. Thinking about it throughout the day you realized that Alex Karev was attractive, and even though you had heard bad things about him, he hadn’t done anything to you. You were starting to get a bit giddy.

You walked out to the nurses station and saw Alex waiting for you in a nice pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a flannel. When he looked up to see you, a small smile spread across his face. He took a few steps to meet you where you were, a small gesture but one you noticed.

“You look,” Alex breathed, “good.”

You blushed and smiled under his gaze, “you do too.”

Alex scratched the back of his neck and let out a small chuckle.

“Joe’s?” you suggested.

“Yeah.” he smiled, “let’s go.”

You both walked in comfortable silence, shoulders bumping now and then.

When you got to the bar it was a bit crowded but not too loud. You scanned the bar for seats and locked eyes with George, who was sitting with Meredith and Christina. You quickly looked away and found a booth in the corner, away from the crowd.

You tugged on Alex’s sleeve and nodded towards the booth. He nodded back before taking your hand and leading you through the crowd of people. The action was shocking to you, and made your heart race. Once you got there, Alex sat you down and asked what you wanted. You gave him the drink, he nodded before going to the bar to order.

You sat there and stared at the table, feeling your cheeks with the back of your hand, surprised to feel them flushed. You smiled to yourself, surprised. So far Alex was nothing if not a gentleman and you were a bit happy you decided to go on the date.

After a beat you could feel holes being bored into your skull, you turned your head to see the trio from earlier staring at you. Meredith was staring with amusement, Christina with curiosity, and George with an expression you couldn’t read. They all looked away quickly, Christina and Meredith giggling a bit and George silent. You shook your head, not letting them get to you, and Alex returned with your drinks and a basket of peanuts.

You thanked him as he set your drink in front of you and took a small sip. He nodded and smiled in response. You decided that if this date was going to be successful you had to be bold.

“So, Alex,” you started, “why ask me on a date?”

He looked at you curiously, a mischievous smile playing on his face.

“Well, one, you were interested,” he counted off, to which you rolled your eyes, “and two you’re… admirable.”

You blinked back at him, smile splitting across your face, “Admirable?”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” he shakes his head, “your presence is commanding. You have the respect of the doctors, of your peers, hell you have my respect. You advocate for your patients and you actually care for each and every one of them. You’re admirable.”

You sat there a bit stunned. Alex admired you. He respected you. He saw you. He saw you. For the first time in a long time you felt appreciated and proud.

“Now you,” he insisted, “why me? I mean I do have a reputation.”

You didn’t think he would ask you that, which was a bit stupid considering you just asked him. You thought for a second. Why were you excited earlier? Why not turn down the date? Thinking back on your interactions with Alex Karev, you had an answer.

“One,” you numbered, mirroring him, “you’re pretty easy on the eyes.” He chuckled at your admission.

“And two, you work hard. Harder than most. Sure you walk around all cocky but I can see that you don’t just want to be a doctor, but a good doctor.”

He looked away smiling, scratching his neck again, a nervous habit you noted.

As the night went on, the conversation flowed rather freely. You both talked about interesting cases, hobbies outside of work, traded funny stories. You didn’t expect it but the two of you clicked rather easily. He wasn’t afraid to express his attraction to you and you liked the attention. He made you laugh. Really laugh, even if it was teasingly at your expense. You ribbed him just as hard, to which he would laugh. You couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or the attention or just Alex, but you were genuinely enjoying yourself.

It was getting late and as you were just getting off your shift it was time to go home. You and Karev walked out the bar together, arms touching, practically holding hands. He hailed you a cab and opened the door for you.

“Thank you for tonight,” you started, “it was… really great.” You smiled up at him, cheeks flushed.

“I had a good time too,” Alex admitted, “I would, uh, like to do it again sometime.”

“Me too,” you agreed.

You bit your lip a bit sheepishly before leaning forward and planting a kiss on his cheek. He looked a bit shocked but smiled.

“See you later, Alex,” you waved goodbye, closing the door and giving the driver your address.

You closed the door to your apartment and leaned against it, covering your mouth and smiling a bit. Being around Alex seemed… easy. He was more caring and thoughtful than he looked. It wasn’t hard to like him. The conversation never got boring. As all of these thoughts ran through your mind, you realized something. You hadn’t thought of George almost the entire night. Maybe, you didn’t need to.

You took a shower, letting the hot water run over you. All you could think about was Alex and when you’d see him next. You had the next day off, but you would see him when you worked next. The idea of it planted a smile on your face and butterflies in your stomach. That night you went to sleep content.

The next few weeks had you floating. You and George were talking again after he apologized but that’s not why. Alex Karev was the reason. He would come visit you at the nurses station, flirting and joking. On the occasion that you had lunch at the same time, you would eat together, sharing your food at times. You went on a second date and then a third. After the third, you felt bad about how everything started. About not being honest with Alex. After work one day, you pulled Alex aside into an on-call room.

Your heart was going to beat out of your chest. What if this hurt him? What if he thought you were pathetic? What if he wanted to break things off?

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Alex asked, “are you okay?”

The concern in his voice made you feel even worse, you were pacing a bit.

“I have to tell you something,” you sighed, “I haven’t been completely honest with you. And it’s eating me up.”

“What is it?” Alex placed a hand on your shoulder.

You looked into his eyes and frowned before looking down.

“So our first date,” you started, “you know how George told you I was interested in you? I wasn’t. I had feelings for George and he walked up on me talking about it and asked who I was talking about and I said you and I didn’t expect him to set us up. But I really did want to go on that date with you and I really did enjoy it, and it’s not just me getting over him I really really like you, and I felt so bad not being honest.”

“Y/N-“ he interrupted.

“Please don’t hate me.” you pleaded.

“Y/N!” He put both of his hands on your shoulders, “I know.”

“What?” you breathed.

“I know you had feelings for George,” he confessed, “I could see the way you looked at him. I was surprised when he said you had feelings for me. I figured I’d ask you out, you’d say no, and that was that. But you said yes, and I had the best time. And then we went on a second date and suddenly, you didn’t look at George the way you used to. I don’t care if you had feelings for George, as long as I’m the one you want now.”

You smiled up at him wistfully, bringing his face down to yours for a kiss.

You had kissed before, but they were just a few quick pecks at the end of the date. This was something more, it was soft and deep. Passionate but not lustful. It was everything you could have ever hoped it would be. The two of you broke away and you looked up at him, arms around his neck, “Alex Karev, you are the one I want.” He smiled before leaning down and kissing you again.

That day was the day your relationship with Alex truly started. He introduced you officially to the rest of the interns, aside from George, who you already knew. You’d sit with the five of them during lunch from time to time. There were times when you would catch George looking at you weird or rolling his eyes at you and Alex.

All of this came to a head one day when George caught you as you were about to leave. You were going to have a movie night with Alex, the two of you holding hands about to walk out the door.

“Y/N,” George called as he jogged up to you, “I need to talk to you.”

You looked to Alex and told him to go ahead, giving him a kiss on the cheek before approaching George.

“What’s up George?” you asked.

He pulled you aside into a on-call room for a bit of privacy. He looked around and took a heavy sigh.

“Break up with Karev.” he stated, as if he were mentioning the weather.

“I’m sorry, what?” you almost shouted.

“Look, Alex isn’t right for you,” he explained, “I didn’t realize it before but.. Y/N I want you. I need you.”

You stood there, staring at the man in front of you, trying to find any hint of a joke in his expression. When you couldn’t find any you felt a wave of anger wash over you.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you actually shouted this time, “you need me? I fucking pine after you for months, listening to you gush about Meredith, and now that I’m happy with Alex you fucking NEED me. No. No, I can’t, George. You are far too late. Alex actually sees me. He’s direct and makes me feel secure. He’s loving and caring and funny and I can’t go through what you put me through again. I can’t.”

You turned around and left the room, slamming the door behind you. You sped out the door and into the parking lot, seeing Alex waiting for you by his car. You walked up and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close.

“What was that about?” he asked.

“I’ll tell you when we’re home, you’ll thank me later.” you smiled up, kissing him.

[imageingrunge]

A needlessly thorough review of DATV so I can move on with my life:

WHAT I LIKED:

The story pacing flows better without all that open world slog from DAI I am not bombarded by 50 side quests that have no baring on anything other than rp flavor

The game is pretty, CC is nice

They gave you far more opportunities to flesh out your Rook's background than in DAI and da2 but it's not as fun has having a mini origin story from DAO

no fall damage and if u run out of a combat zone ur companions follow u too

Hossberg wetlands really remind me of dragon age awakenings and I like the way the blight looks there, it gave me a nice nostalgic feeling for the older games

WHAT I DID NOT LIKE (IN DETAIL)

Voice Acting & Dialogue

It is really hard to be invested in a game that feels the need to recap everything you just experienced from 5 minutes ago, (verging on insulting my intelligence) and the silliest part is while i do hate this I got so checked out after act 2 I needed the recap 

A lot of the dialogue and banter is just empty small talk and meaningless pleasantries that sucked the life out of me, had me longing for the days of hearing Ohgren's beer belches reverberate off the walls in the deep roads:

 Voice acting is really consistent, I hated it when you never knew how your inquisitor would sound in DAI sometimes too serious for a funny comment or like yelling at Cassandra and cullen over nothing - Rook is more consistent but it comes at a loss of personality every line is uttered in the same annoying tone that had me being like damn can he stfu already (da2 was ideal voice acting for me if they cant deliver that again just go back to a voiceless protagonist)

Me whenever my rook opened his mouth: i was getting violent on that skip button

The dialogue between rook and their companions holds it back from being enjoyable at all really- here's some examples:

Emmerich's personal quest in act 2: "I want to do this immortality rite it's a very high honor in my order but rook I might die in the process permanently, I am an orphan and afraid of dying" Rook: "You could die?!?! That's awful". In Origins you can have a conversation with Wynn about her inevitable death and respond in a manner similar to rook and Wynn teases you by saying "well i'm not going to live for ever dear" it made me smile and sad about not being able to really help her. Did not feel that way Emmerich though, Im so uninterested in him as a character my response and feelings are "old people die all the time" and then 'wait why the fuck haven't you done this immortality ritual yet instead dragging me over here to collect some flowers"

Companions & Romance

the flirt options aren't all that flirty, its just rook being nice, all the romance content seems behind a 'romance locked in' moment (that comes in so late in the game u already forgot who u were even flirting with at times) so you can't hop ur way from one bed to another before deciding on 'the forever one' (remember when I could ride the iron bull then break up and be with Cullen- I don't think that’s an option here)

The companions are all pretty forgettable, I did everyone's personal quest (with the exception of Taash tried to kill a dragon for them n failed so bad i just moved on) and forgot there was even an approval system with them or that I was supposed to pick choices for them. It felt like i was on a train going in one direction where it did not matter what I said or did to them they would be fine. It’s like I've lost and gained nothing by doing these quests. The deepest thing I learned about Emmerich is that he is a 50 yr old orphan scared of dying. And it makes me not care all that much about them beyond “I just need you to function enough to get me to the end of the game sure Taash embrace being Rivaini, yes Harding live peacefully w that Titan shit inside you idc… Lucanis..ahh what was ur issue again I forget”

I made Lucanis live peacefully with Spite (stuck as an abomination that's supposed to be as volatile as Anders & Justice) Let Emmerich become a lich and no one batted an eye. Everyone just heehee haw hawing over Emmerich's new skeleton form and I forget about spite a lot unless he comments on something i've killed. Was there supposed to be some moral quandary? to make Emmerich a lich I had to "kill off" Manfred... the walking skeleton who might as well have been a rock with a pair of googly eyes attached to him for all i care

I don’t want to help Bellara light funeral pyres in a puzzle game play style that isnt a deep message about death. I want Aveline's speech about reading her favorite book to her dying father after hawke lost thier mother.

For Neve's romance, it took the whole world falling part and everyone dying for her to kiss me for a 2 time and then pity fuck me and afterword she’s like I’m leaving don’t want to be too distracting. All these lines carry no weight like bad actors w no chemistry

jaw on the floor comparing this (first time I said "i love you" to neve)

to the first time I said it to cullen and how he treats u before the big battle

I get that she isn't lovey dovey but at 70 hrs in and 2 kisses it feels like she just dont love me </3

Combat - as a spellblade mage*

combat was this weird mix of sometimes fun sometimes a new and unique form of human torture (wydm press shift 4 times n hold down e then press V C and 2 IM ON A KEYBOARD!) Once u make it past level 20 u are immortal but ur enemies are sponges I dreaded every single dragon fight despite that being my favorite thing to do in DAI. Don't ever want to see another Ogre in my life they body me into corners that hitting space can't save me from.

At some point u just gotta run around the place a lot hoping ur companions can do the damage for you bc the mobs aren’t interested in them at all. i was spamming 2 n slamming on that E key hopping it would be over n done with already, If i wanted to play a flashy monster hunter game, well then id play tw3 at least that combat is fun.

Lore & Story building

At the end of Trespasser, I was under the impression that the conflict in DATV would revolve around solas amassing an army of elves all over Thedas to rebel against the Evanuris. He had a whole network of Spies working against the Inquisition and the Antaam, and planned to restore the elven people, upend their religious views, and try to tear down the veil as a way of atonement. So I was understanding of there only being 3 import choices ( 1- who you romanced, 2- Save or redeem Solas 3- Disband or Keep inquisition). But that's not the story we get; instead its this??

The veil jumpers are like engineering mages with no ties to Solas beyond being an elves. There is no religious struggle they just seem to accept that these Gods have always been evil and need to be stopped. Solas is just a one man army trapped in the fade off screen for like 70% of the game. Should I have just kept the inquisition around after all? The only mention I got was my disbanded inquisition choice was inky going "my name still carries weight in southern thedas" and it seemed like disbanding or keeping it would have an affect on how easy or hard it would be to stop Solas but no it really doesn't at all

“It doesn’t feel like a Dragon Age game”

A criticism I rarely take seriously because that can mean so many different things? Like what is it the atmosphere? The aesthetics? The “dArK fAnTasy” none of these things have ever stayed consistent in any dragon age game. And I’d say DA franchise lost its teeth/edge when dai rolled around it was pretty light in the world of dark fantasy

However…theyre kinda right this time around....

It doesn’t feel like a dragon age game because they removed a lot of the lore your were exposed to in the previous games to the point where this might as well be another game all together. (i am not even a lore nerd but i do need something there to feel like i am in a dragon age game)

Yes the city is named Minrathos you were are told of its cultural significance and history as the seat of the empire but looks like a shittier version of kirkwall (and I kept getting lost going around the map so I hated it even more for wasting my time) Honestly the city felt super high tech and out of place in a fantasy setting imo, I missed it when everyone lived in a wooden hovel in the middle of the woods.

There is no reason for the venatori to follow Elgarnan and ghilian'nan or for the Qunari either but it all gets hand waved away with "they offered us power"

Reading the Inquisitors letters made me feel like im in a spinoff game and the real story is happening somewhere else. And sad to like baby take me with you!! i want to save u from this nightmare

A lot of the factions are sanitized to the point of being boring Darvin's little 'we're warden we don't do blood magic that's just not right" baby I let the wardens sacrifice elves to Corphyeus 3 weeks ago :/

Qunari Culture

So the whole reason you were fighting the Antaam in DAI was because they believed you were in cahoots with Solas, who's whole plan to them is to sow chaos and disorder- that is a HUGE no no in the Qun so they see it as their sacred duty to stop you. The Qunari we meet in DATV mindless npc mooks who attack you not because your with Solas but because the Evil elven gos promised them uhh power n shit for stopping you. Like I know I did not just waste my time in DAI reading about how egalitarian the Qun is everyone is like a Hive, they depend on each other so selfishness is rooted out so wtf was going on in Treviso with these guys. A whole culture decimated down to being darkspawn mobs part 2

What made me never want to play another DA game ever again:

Everything you ever did in Orlais, Ferelden, Kirkwall is pointless. No matter what the last letter from the Inquistor is "yeah the blight reached the south Denerim is gone, ferelden is blighted beyond repair, we took back Skyhold but barely. The Venatori disposed of whoever you put in charge of Orlais and there's giant leviathans rising out the sea in Ostwick"  There is no conclusion to this it's just the state of the world now

I cant even pretend my non solas romanced Inky is happy and safe after all this? My hof and Alistar might as well be dead for all that it ever mattered. I get that the devs wanted a clean slate but did they have to burn my house down and salt the fields? It feels so spiteful and mean, like they wanted to make a whole separate game and tack on the "dragon age" title to it for money. If they're not interested in the lore or world building why should I? it made me fully checked out of the rest of the story. Like damn idgaf about elgar'nan and the other one give me back Redcliff

TLDR I dont know if i should be sad that I still care about this or glad its over either way im blocking all datv tags n moving on

[petrichor-idyllic]

Hi cutie <3, I would like to request headcanons for the maze runner boys on how would they flirt with you.

Wooo more headcanons. This one should be fun.

HOW THEY (ATTEMPT TO) FLIRT

MASTERLIST | MULTI-CHARACTER MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Gender neutral! Reader x All main boys.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, terrible flirting from teenagers, suggestive jokes.

THOMAS

Thomas wouldn't be great at flirting.

He spends half the time talking to Newt or Minho, and he spends the other half of his time talking about the Maze.

He's either bouncing off of the Walls or obsessing over them.

It'd probably take a bit for him to even notice you properly.

But once he does- he'd spend every opportunity trying to talk to you.

He'd definitely be an awkward flirt.

Yanno, the type to try casually leaning on something, only to trip and fall.

Compliments would not come easily, and when they do, it'd be... something.

"Hey, (Y/N), you, uh, have you- I think you- your face, is uh, your face is good today."

Truly a poetic man.

That being said, he'd also be the protective and assistive type.

Shielding you from Grievers, arguing with Gally on your behalf and helping you with work are pretty common occurrences.

It's not Thomas's words that are his strong point of expressing his feelings (no matter how hard he'd try), but his actions.

The way he'd act and how passionate he is would definitely be more seductive than his failed flirting.

Though, that would still be cute.

NEWT

Newt would be a kind of casual, sarcastic flirt.

It'd be subtle.

Often more in passing looks and soft smirks, maybe even the odd friendly nudge.

He's not the type to straight up say anything, but when he does, compliments and comments roll off of his tongue like it's nothing.

Something that would probably leave you stunned before he'd swiftly move on.

"Those jeans look shuckin' good on you."

"What?"

"Nothin'."

This means you'd see a more playful side to him.

It's not like Newt is a cold or stoic guy. He's friendly and open, but the extra attention he'd give to you is what sets his feelings for you apart from everyone else's.

It'd be subtle, but if you know what you're looking for- it's not hard to tell.

MINHO

Minho would be a weird mix of Newt and Thomas- but twice as obvious.

Minho has no time for subtleties, nor does he care for it.

He's hitting on you.

And you're gonna know about it.

He'd be smooth with it as well.

Minho is confident and impatient, which makes for an interesting mix when he's hunting for someone's attention.

Though, it comes across as more of a joke than anything else.

His sarcasm (and fear of rejection) would lead into a more joking relationship where he'd end up in too deep to back out and admit that his attractions are genuine.

He'd still be smooth though.

Resulting in a flirtationship, that's actually just a joke, that's actually a flirtationship because Minho has smooth-talked himself into a corner.

"Yo, (Y/N), lookin' good today."

"Aren't I always?"

"Of course."

Definitely an amusing watch for the rest of the Glade.

GALLY

Gally would straight up just be bad at flirting.

He's too proud to give compliments or admit that he actually has human feelings.

So, his "flirting" ends up becoming bullying.

He'd just tease you, and think it would be playful and funny but he'd just fully be insulting you.

"Oi, shuck-face, watch it."

How he thinks this'll work is beyond me.

????

Strange behaviour.

But Gally isn't exactly known for his intelligence and good choices.

Though, he'd never admit his feelings, or even express them in a healthy way.

So, this is about as good as you're gonna get until he sucks it up and confesses.

FRYPAN

The man is a flirting GOD.

I will not be taking criticism on this.

(Might be biased 'cause Fry is a personal favourite of mine but shhhhh)

Frypan would absolutely shower you in compliments.

Kind of like how Minho would, except he is clearly genuinely earnest.

"You look lovely today, (Y/N)."

Would absolutely give you little treats and sneak you snacks.

Would give you the best food and put extra effort to make sure you're always satisfied with your meals.

It is his speciality, after all.

There's not much to say for him.

He'd just do everything possible to make you smile

ALBY

He wouldn't.

He would not flirt, he would just tell you he likes you and that would be it.

He does not have time for flirting.

You can make your decision about what to do about that.

But he will not flirt.

Sorry.

Okay, another piece done. I've got a lot of requests to get through so yall are gonna have to bear with me.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy these dumb headcanons as much as I like writing them lol :))

[essaytime]

I think the main thing that absolutely infuriates me about the "Romeo and Juliet were just dumb, horny teens" take is this implication that because they were so young, their relationship had to boil down to them being dramatic and inventing some great romance to moan about, or lust and hormones. As a teenager, it makes me want to tear the speaker apart with my bare hands. Interchangeably with stabbing, maybe.

When you look at the text, you can clearly see that there is some emotional connection between Juliet and Romeo. Their first conversation is literally a sonnet - which already indicates some sort of understanding and mutuality, and it's also beautiful poetry. They are the only characters in the entire play that they are really fully comfortable talking to. The adults are caught up in the feud, Nurse loves Juliet, but cannot understand her (and makes a dirty joke at her expense in Act I, which for a person Juliet's age would be awfully unpleasant), Romeo's friends, though I Iove them, don't get his sensitivity - Mercutio laughing at it and Benvolio worried by it - which Juliet, in turn, appreciates. They speak of each other with respect and admiration, quite unusually in Verona, where all is conflict and even Juliet's own father insults her: look at the sonnet, the balcony scene, Romeo comparing his sweetheart to the sun or a jewel (in contrast to his earlier quotes about Rosaline, which are literally a compilation of clichés stacked on top of one another). Even when Juliet awaits their wedding night, in a speech clearly centered on sexual matters, there is a visible softness and affection with which she treats Romeo ("cut him out in little stars"...). She waits for the night because it's him, not "I want to sleep with someone because I want to sleep with someone". The two genuinely care about each other, and are fond of each other. Of course, we can wonder if this love would last if they were given an opportunity to grow older, but when the play takes place, this love is there, and it's beautiful.

(Off-topic, I'd also like to note that this is an Elizabethan play that takes place in even earlier times, presumably late medieval - early renaissance Italy. They wouldn't live in the modern world where you can date many different people and settle well into your thirties or fourties. The average marriage age for girls in Shakespeare's time was about twenty, in fifteenth century Florence it was eighteen. Both of them were from wealthy families, so they'd likely be expected - even if Juliet's parents did not force her into a marriage with Paris - to marry earlier, for financial and political purposes. There couldn't be a "growing older" like we imagine it. Even their hypothetical different relationships would be early relationships for today's standards)

And it makes my blood boil when the visible genuine bond between these two is reduced to just "dumb kids being horny". The motive behind these words being partly, of course, the high-school-acquired All Required Reading is Nonsense edginess, but also a deeper issue - the inability to comprehend the fact that teenage love is also often real love.

Being capable of having deep and meaningful romantic relationships does not come baked into your birthday cake when you turn eighteen or attached to your first ever bill. Not every single feeling a teenager might harbour is at its core shallow lust and wanting to get laid. Of course, there's lots of cases of shortsighted infatuation where the pair really have nothing in common! I could name at least a few examples I have seen personally. But still, on every street and every corner of the world, and often a few metres from these pointless infatuations, teens fall in love because there's something more to it. Because they find they have a lot in common, because they get along well with each other, because they are able to see the good in the other person - their kindness, their intelligence, their enthusiasm, you name it. "Teens" including the younger teens, from thirteen to fifteen. And this love is a deep emotional bond. Sure, in most cases it will not last until death (and to be honest, relationships not working out is not really a teenage-specific phenomenon and a sign that young love of all is inherently doomed and it has to die so the curse of growing up is fulfilled), but it doesn't make it less of a love when it still remains, and it includes all the things love is about. Young couples go on dates, and have fun. They confide in each other. They support each other through hard times, they show care, they sometimes make sacrifices for their loved one's good. As any person in love does, at any age.

When I fell in love four months ago, I did not fall in love because I wanted to sleep with someone so bad. In fact, I do not want to - not for the next several years. I realise it's something I might want someday, but it's not today; and above all, I'm way too young. If anything, what I want is to kiss someone, or run my fingers through his hair, or read with his head in my lap - but it's not something I'd go out of my way and date a random person to get, come on. I fell in love because he is actually the first boy that reminds me of myself so much, the first I can understand so well. Because I also have a penchant for history and writing, I also tend to use formal and flowery language in very informal situations, I also enjoy people's attention (though I seem to worry more about being a potential inconvenience than he does), I also believe that we should judge people as individuals, because there's too much nuance in one person to make proper statements about large groups - and I find in him so many things that I can relate to, though of course I can't say I know him well enough to speak much for sure. Besides, he's simply a wonderful person, not flawless, of course, but he has a good heart. He is always kind, and well-mannered, and intelligent, and you can laugh with him. I think he would care if something bad happened, no matter if he says that he wouldn't. I think I know him well enough to say this at least. And if he loved me back (a thing I consider unlikely for now, but not entirely impossible), would we stay together forever? Heaven alone knows! Maybe not! It is up to the higher power. But even if we broke up, that wouldn't erase the fact that I loved him, and I would have done a lot for him, and we were able to have meaningful conversations. Just because a love isn't forever, doesn't mean it was never there.

Because - what the "dumb kids" people don't seem to grasp - teenagers are also human beings with a functioning, even if not fully developed, brain, capable of having complex feelings and thoughts just like an adult. Note that Shakespeare's leads, at least Juliet, actually do that - hence the pre-wedding night monologue, the "deny thy father and refuse thy name", her statement (I don't know the English original of that one, to be honest) that she is too soft and loving towards Romeo already, but it's because she has such profound feelings for him she can't even pretend to be strict. It's noticeable that she has some emotional maturity, at least - she shows some critical thinking abilities, she understands the consequences of many actions, she is able to see that the feud is pointless and a name is just a name. She's a teenager, and someone in their teens is also a Homo sapiens specimen, not a being from a different planet. Teens think and feel. It might not be the same reality as the adult one, and they don't deal with emotions with such ease as an adult would, but that doesn't mean they are unable to truly love and care, to enjoy talking to someone and want the best for them, like grown-ups do - as developing an affection for someone that makes you happy is a very human thing, and I can guarantee you a thirteen or fourteen-year-old is a developed enough human being to experience it.

So, to sum it up, if I hear any "Romeo and Juliet were just dumb kids being horny" on my watch, the author of this statement will presumably be mercilessly killed, and then I'll do as Fulvia allegedly did to Cicero and stab something through their tongue, except instead of a hairpin, I'll probably use one of the darts my little brother got for Christmas. They are very sharp. We have several holes in the floor already.

[joshym]

Why Don’t You Make Me?

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: you learn what being sassy with Sam leads to

Word Count: 2.1k+

Warnings: (18+ MINORS DNI) unprotected sex, angst, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering (f receiving), pussy slapping(sorry lol), a bit of a praise kink, some degradation, rough sex, sam is an asshole(hehe), ends with some good fluff

a/n: i’m not even sure how to explain this one, lol. essentially, i watched an interview forever ago where he talks about not liking one of my favorite bands, thus, sparking this. i haven’t been able to let go of it since. we all know sammy is a bit picky when it comes to music...

with that being said, enjoy. 🤍

It’s nothing out of the ordinary for you and Sammy to have pointless, petty arguments that usually pertain to nothing of any importance. You both are too stubborn for your own good, and neither one of you are too keen on admitting any sort of wrongdoing. 

Sammy loves to insert his opinion on absolutely everything. Even when his opinion wasn’t requested. He relishes any opportunity to share his opposing thoughts, even when he knows it’ll inevitably piss you off. 

Something Sammy has very strong opinions on is music. He’s quite pretentious when it comes to his musical preferences. You’re always more than willing to listen to whatever song or artists he’s into at any given moment, eager to give it your full attention when he’s excited to show it to you. You love his music taste and that he’s introduced you to so many incredible pieces.

However, he never gives you the same respect. When you want to show him something you love, he has to overly critique it. Every fucking time. He’s entirely too critical of everything you enjoy and you’re starting to take offense to it. It just pisses you off to no end that he fully believes his music taste is far superior than yours. To avoid getting your feelings hurt, you’ve pretty much stopped showing him anything you love, and you typically only listen to your music when he’s not around so you can enjoy it in peace.

You’d anticipated a day at home to yourself as Sam had a full schedule. You had nothing planned, so you decided to spend the day cleaning the house and listening to a special playlist compiled of your favorite music. 

You’ve been so lost in cleaning that you don’t even realize several hours have gone by. Your playlist is still on full blast, too loud for you to hear Sam coming in through the front door.

You’re startled by your music suddenly coming to a halt, making Sammy laugh at you as you nearly jump out of your skin.

“You know, that’s the most overproduced shit I’ve ever heard. There’s nothing enticing about it, feels like my intelligence is being insulted.”

You have zero patience for this right now. Not only did him scaring you annoy the shit out of you, but now he has the nerve to bring this up again. You’re over it.

“Can you fucking not, Sam?”

“What the hell is your problem?”

“You’re always dragging my music in the dirt and I’m just sick of it. It’s fucking rude. Just let me enjoy it without you being an asshole, please.”

You’re walking past him when he grabs your arm to stop you.

“Don’t try to walk away from me, sweetheart. I’m an asshole, huh?”

He’s looking down at you with a condescending expression that has you immediately turned on. Something about him being angry makes you desperate for him to have his way with you. You have a feeling you know where this is going, so why not take it a little further?

“Yep. You’re a fucking asshole.” you say through gritted teeth. 

He smirks at you, noticing your cheeks becoming flushed and your angry appearance turning into a needy one.

“You better quit running your pretty mouth, y/n, or you’ll seriously regret it.”

“Why don’t you make me?”

That was all he needed. Before you know it, your back is pushed up against the wall with a light grip on your throat. 

“You know you can’t talk to me like that and get away with it, right?”

He’s pressing his hips against your body, showing you just how hard he is already. With one hand, he pulls your shorts down to your feet. His fingertips trace ever so lightly over your clothed clit, just barely giving you that pressure you’re so desperate for.

“What’s the matter, baby? Your pretty cunt already needy for me?”

He grabs the fabric of your panties and pulls them up between your lips, giving you much needed friction against your clit.

“Fuck, Sammy..”

“You like calling me an asshole, huh? Turns you on being a little bitch to me, doesn’t it?”

You’re hardly able to form any coherent thoughts with as much as you're turned on right now. 

“Tell me, baby. Tell me how much you love being a bitch and calling me names. Tell me.”

His lips meet your neck in small nibbles against the sensitive skin.

“I love it, Sammy. I fucking love pissing you off.”

“Yeah, I know you do. Get down on your knees so I can show you what you should be doing with your mouth instead of running it.”

You quickly comply. He caresses your face with one hand while he’s undoing the button on his jeans with the other. You're practically drooling at the thought of having him tucked away in your mouth.

He pulls his cock out, and he’s unbelievably hard.

“Open, baby. If you can call me an asshole with that mouth, you can take my dick in it, too.”

You open for him and he slowly slides himself inside all the way to the back of your throat before pulling out completely. 

“Remember what to do if it’s too much, right?”

“Tap you three times.”

“Good girl.”

You open for him again and he slides in with much more force this time, hitting the back of your throat much harder. He pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail and uses it to hold on to while he fucks himself into your mouth. You keep your eyes on him and watch as his jaw clenches with every thrust. You gag a little around him, making him smirk.

“God you look so pretty like this, honey. You’re doing so good.”

You feel him start to twitch and you realize he’s getting close. He quickly pulls out of your mouth and lifts you up.

“Get your smart ass to the bedroom. Take your clothes off and be ready. I’ll be there in a minute. And don’t you dare touch yourself. You’re not getting off unless it’s from me, got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

He slaps your ass as you walk towards the room. You strip yourself of your remaining items of clothing as you sit on the bed against the headboard with your legs open, ready for whatever he has planned for you.

He’s taking much longer than you care for. You’re getting restless and you’re so desperate. You decide to risk it and you begin to touch yourself, running small circles over your clit. Right as you’re finally feeling some relief, Sammy walks in the room.

“So not only do you call me names, but you don’t listen to me either?”

He’s holding the speaker you were using earlier. He sets it up on the dresser next to your bed and starts playing your playlist at a low volume.

“Sammy what are you-”

“Gonna fuck you to your little playlist so every time you listen to it, you remember your punishment for being such a fucking brat about it.”

As your music starts playing, he leans over you on the bed to crash into your lips with his. The kiss is sloppy and vigorous, making you that much more turned on.

He moves down to your neck and chest to suck marks into you. He takes your nipple in his mouth and softly bites at it, eliciting a sound out of you that can only be described as pornographic.

He lifts up only to spread your legs as far as they can go. Without warning, he lands a quick and light slap to your already aching pussy. Your hips buck harshly at the contact, causing you to moan even louder.

“That’s what you get for not listening to me when I said not to touch yourself.”

He does it again. 

“And that’s for calling me an asshole.”

You're clenching so hard around absolutely nothing, ready to beg him to be inside of you. 

“Sammy please..please fucking touch me.”

He’s looking at you smugly. He knows exactly what you want, but he’s going to make you work for it. 

“You’re awfully squirmy, baby. Bet you want me so bad, huh?”

“Yes, Sam, please.”

“Call me an asshole again.”

You look up at him, confused and almost sure you heard him wrong.

“Call me an asshole again, y/n. Then I’ll give you what you want.”

You’re starting to catch on to his little game.

“You’re an asshole, Sam. A fucking dick.”

He smiles, then dips down between your legs.

“Look at you, honey. Making such a mess and I’ve barely touched you.”

His tongue meets your swollen clit with small flicks. You’re hardly able to hold yourself still at the sensation, but he keeps you in place with his arm wrapped around your hips.

He sinks two fingers deep inside of you, moving them at a quick speed. You’re already so close that you’re hardly breathing.

You grab ahold of his hair that’s draped across your belly and use it to hold him there. His fingers are moving at a speed that has you whining under him.

“Fuck, Sammy..I’m s-so close, please don’t stop-”

“Come on, baby. Cum nice and pretty so I can put my cock inside of you.”

His words have you instantly meeting your release, belting out a slew of moans almost melodically.

“That’s it, there you go. Fuck- look at you, y/n. You’re so beautiful when you cum for me.”

His fingers have slowed down to work you through your orgasm. You’re nearing overstimulation, but you can’t force yourself to make him stop. His fingers mixed with your release feel so good. 

He pulls out of you and immediately puts his fingers in his mouth, savoring the taste of you.

“Mmm, gonna fuck you now, pretty girl.”

He positions himself between your legs and wastes no time plunging into you. You’re so wet that it takes you no time to adjust to his size.

He holds himself up on his knees, gripping your hips and thrusting into you. He loves to watch himself slide in and out of you, watching as his cock becomes coated and shiny with your slick. The sounds of your wetness fill the room along with your damn music that started this whole thing. He’s picking up his pace to a more brutal one.

“Think I could watch your pretty pussy get fucked all day. So fucking good, baby.”

He keeps up his pace, his face displaying pure ecstasy as his eyes become droopy with pleasure.

He pulls out, leaving you missing him instantly. 

“Turn around. On your knees, face down.”

You quickly do as he says, almost embarrassed by how eager you appear but too fucked out to care.

He teases you a bit before he sticks himself back inside, burying himself in you completely.

It takes no time for him to pick his pace back up as he slams himself into you. One hand is gripping your ass, while the other reaches down under your hips to play with your clit.

“Fu-fuck, Sam, I’m close baby. I’m so fucking close..”

“Cum on my cock, and make it pretty again. Give it to me.”

It’s as if his voice contains some sort of magic, making you cum again at the sound of it mixed with the overwhelming pleasure.

“Oh my god, Sam!”

You’re almost screaming at the feeling, this one even more intense than the first one.

“Fuck, y/n. You’re squeezing me so tight. Gonna fill you up, baby.”

He meets his release shortly after you. The feeling of him filling you up is something you’ll never get tired of. 

He’s out of breath, staying tucked inside of you for a bit while he regains his composure.

He finally pulls himself out, leaving you feeling empty while his cum spills out of you.

You lift your head up to see him looking at your dripping pussy, biting his lip.

“So fucking beautiful, y/n.”

You roll over on your back while he sits on the bed next to you.

“You okay, sweet girl?” he says as he runs his fingers through your disheveled hair. 

“Yeah, that was absolutely amazing.” 

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings earlier. I know I can be a bit ruthless about things like that. I don’t mean to be so harsh.”

“It’s okay, really. Honestly, if it ends in sex like that, I’d be more than happy to argue about it all the fucking time.”

“Yeah? Well, in that case,” he points to the speaker that’s still playing your music. “this song is fucking garbage.” he winks at you as you start to laugh.

“You’re an asshole, Sam.”

He leans down to kiss you.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too.”

Masterlist

[monstersdownthepath]

Homebrew Horror: Plague Tapper

(Art and concept from the Book of Unremitting Horror, pg. 27-29)

Plague Tappers are not natural creatures. A simple glance at them is often enough for most people to conclude this, but the truth goes even further: they're a bioweapon created for assassinations. Many groups are credited with the creation of these horrors by those who've experienced them, from cruel alchemists and mad curse-crafters, to the Dominion of the Black, to Apollyon, the Horseman of Pestilence (or one of his servants; the Tappers fit the modus operandi of Voda quite well), but whoever made them first matters little nowadays, as these horrors can be called into service by anyone capable of using their Occult Ritual: Festering Hatred.

Every Plague Tapper ever found on Golarion was called to its soil by this ritual, and each one was crafted with the purpose of executing a single target in a horrifically gruesome manner. Unfortunately for everyone involved, once the initial target has been infected by the plague which makes up half the Tapper's name, the creature is freed from the command of the ritual and may seek out others to torment with its hideous disease... including its creator, if the opportunity arises. Though not particularly intelligent, Plague Tappers are guided by malefic instinct to cause panic, pain, and death, and hold signs of good health and vitality as an insult to their craft, intentionally targeting creatures who appear at the prime of their life and the height of their health and then watching from nearby as they succumb to its disease, the Roiling Rot.

The Roiling Rot is found only inside the bodies of Plague Tappers, and any attempt to create it without conjuring one of these creatures or store samples of it in any container BUT a Tapper's body has--thankfully--failed, perhaps because the disease is linked directly to and sustained by the emotional focus of the ritual used to create it: intense hatred. The Rot is a tenacious and terrifying disease which cannot be fought off without magic, and acts so quickly that most creatures affected by it believe they've been poisoned or even cursed, utilizing the wrong methods and magic entirely to try and end their suffering only for their every hope to fail. Most creatures perish from it long before they can find any form of help, but there are rare tales of people miraculously resisting the disease's effects on their body until a cleric or apothecary could reach them.

Plague Tappers are most dangerous when first conjured, as they're created with a full payload of their disease to blight their target. Once the payload is delivered, Plague Tappers quickly flee to hide until they can create a new dose the next day, as the entirety of their threat hails from this infection; without a dose, their painful bites only cause terrific pain and nausea, which is merciful compared to what the Roiling Rot does to its victims. One can tell when a dose of the disease is prepared, as the Plague Tappers will loudly 'tap' themselves with their lengthy legs to pump it from their body into their mouths in preparation for the fatal bite, which for the victim sounds an awful lot like a clock ticking down.

Plague Tappers are scarcely larger than mice, making them extremely difficult to spot, especially in the darkened ceiling corners they tend to hide in and attack from. They do not reproduce and have no worldly needs, existing only to bring about terrible ends to their victims. Thankfully, they live for approximately one week (1d4+7 days, specifically) before finally running out of energy and perishing, dissolving into a greasy black smear within seconds of their deaths.

Festering Hatred School: Conjuration (Calling, Evil); Level: 3 Casting Time: 30 minutes Components: S, F (an effigy of your target made of wax and/or straw, or the target themselves) Skill Checks: Bluff or Intimidate DC 25 (see text), 2 checks; Knowledge (the Planes) DC 25, 1 check Range: Personal Target: Any one creature the primary caster truly and sincerely hates Duration: Instantaneous; see text Saving Throw: None; Spell Resistance: No

Backlash: The primary caster is automatically infected by Slimy Doom and is exhausted. Failure: The primary caster's tongue is torn from their mouth, inflicting 2d6 bleed damage and preventing them from speaking until their tongue is restored.

——— Effect ———

Special: If the primary caster bites off their tongue during the casting of this ritual (inflicting the failure state upon themselves willingly), the ritual succeeds automatically, casts in 3 minutes instead of 30, and the conjured Tapper lives for 3 weeks before dying. However, that primary caster can never again perform this ritual, even if they regain their tongue, and the summoned Plague Tapper gains the benefits of its Find Target ability against the primary caster once the initial target is infected, compelling it to seek out and kill its creator.

This ritual is a cruel and terrible one, conjuring a Plague Tapper within the primary caster's body as they speak and swallow down every curse and vile thing they wish to say about their target until their hatred literally congeals into the tiny fiend. The lump in their throat grows more and more pronounced as the ritual nears its completion until, finally, the horrid thing squirms up their throat and out of the mouth, pushing its way into the world. The target of the ritual is immediately marked by the Tapper's Find Target ability, which it pursues to the best of its abilities.

Once the Tapper successfully injects the target with its Roiling Rot disease, or the target dies in any other way, it becomes free-willed and typically seeks to kill as many creatures as possible before it dies, unless the caster can somehow reason with it to gain control of it.

------

Plague Tapper CR 5 Neutral Evil Tiny Outsider (Daemon, Evil, Native) Init: +7; Senses: Darkvision 120ft, Detect Good; Perception +11 ------ Defense ------ AC 23, touch 22, flat-footed 15 (+7 Dex, +1 dodge, +1 natural, +4 size) HP 40 (5d10+5) Fort +2 Ref +11 Will +7 DR 3/Good or silver; Immune Acid, death effects, disease, poison; Resist Cold 10, Electricity 10 Weaknesses Curative Vulnerability ------ Offense ------ Speed 30ft, climb 30ft Melee Bite +16 (1 nonlethal plus agonize plus disease) Special Attacks Agonize, Disease Spell-like Abilities (CL 5th; Concentration +2) Constant--Detect Good, Feather Fall ------ Statistics ------ Str 1 Dex 24 Con 12 Int 11 Wis 16 Cha 5 Base Atk: +5; CMB -4; CMD 13 Feats Ability Focus (Disease), Dodge, Weapon Finesse Skills Acrobatics +15, Climb +11, Escape Artist +15, Perception +11, Stealth +27, Survival +11 Languages Abyssal, Draconic, Infernal (can't speak); telepathy 30ft SQ Find Target ------ Ecology ------ Environment Any Organization Solitary Treasure None ------

Combat: Plague Tapper exist to deliver their disease, then flee into the shadows. Once they successfully bite their target, they Leap to Cover swiftly as possible and begin to use Stealth to make sure they succumb to the Roiling Rot. If forced into battle, they use their painful bites to debilitate attackers into retreating and flee once their enemies fall unconscious or otherwise cease their attack.

Morale: Tappers with a dose of their disease will risk their own lives to deliver it. Without it, they flee any combat they enter until they can create another dose, biting only in self-defense. Tappers cower in the presence of creatures who they have seen use magic to cure disease or poison, and will flee any encounter with one as swiftly as they can, lest their Curative Vulnerability be taken advantage of. ------ Special Abilities ------

Agonize (Su): The bite of a Plague Tapper is supernaturally painful. Any creature bitten by one must succeed a DC 16 Fortitude save or take 1d6 points of nonlethal damage and become sickened for 1 minute (the sickened condition applies before the Tapper's disease is injected, if a dose is prepared). A creature that is already sickened or suffering from the effects of a disease instead takes 2d6 nonlethal damage and is nauseated for 1 round. This is a pain effect, and the save DC is Constitution-based.

Curative Vulnerability (Ex): A Tapper that is successfully affected by any spell effect which cures diseases (such as Remove Disease and Heal) immediately loses any dose of Roiling Rot in its body and takes 1d10 damage per caster level. It does not receive any benefits from such spells.

Disease (Su): Once per day, a Plague Tapper can spend a move action to 'tap' its body to prepare a dose of a fatal and fiendish disease called Roiling Rot. This rhythmic, clock-like tapping gives the creature a -10 penalty to its Stealth checks for the round. The next bite attack the Tapper makes within 1 minute attempts to infect the bitten creature with the rot. No amount of saving throws can fight off the supernatural rot, and once symptoms have begin to manifest, only magic can halt its gruesome progress; before the onset period finishes, near- immediate amputation of the bitten limb or excision of the flesh around the bite prevent the sickness from taking hold. Both acts deal 4d6 damage and 1d6 Constitution damage to the victim, but a successful DC 20 Heal check made over the course of 10 minutes reduces this to 2d6 damage and 1d3 Constitution damage.

--Roiling Rot (Su) Bite--injury; save Fort DC 16, onset 30 minutes, frequency every 10 minutes, effect 1d8 Con damage, cure none.

Find Target (Su): When a Tapper is first conjured, it immediately locks onto the caster's target and can track them unerringly, as though it had a permanent Locate Creature which is not blocked by water and has an unlimited range. It always knows the swiftest possible path to reach its target. The Tapper is irresistibly compelled to seek out the target and deliver its disease to them, and will not bite any other creature but its target when it's first conjured. Once it has injected the target with its disease, it loses the benefits of Find Target and is no longer compelled to attack that particular creature. However, it will almost always try again if the target successfully resists the disease.

Leap to Cover (Ex): Once every 1d4 rounds as a full-round action, a Plague Tapper can leap up to 50ft in any direction, including straight up, and make an immediate Stealth check at the end of the movement. It can make this Stealth check even while being observed as its swift and chaotic movements cause creatures to lose track of its exact position.

[welp-back-on-my-bs]

Mmmmm Silvio rant time- because bday-

Fuck I love this man- his story is so good to like- wtf-

He starts out as a total price of shit, a snobbish bitch who is literally everything we hate about capitalism. First impression makes me think of Daughter of Evil and the princess in that song. That's the impression that the king wants Silvio to give off and what he has of Silvio (a spoiled brat who is just an asshole but good at buisness).

But that's what he was groomed into becoming by his parents. Going trough his story we get a bit of a better picture of Silvio, the actual one. He is very kind and believes in people, doing what he can to make them succeed in life(what he does with thr baker and what he tried to do with Rio). He is stubborn as all fucking hell and dosent really open up about his feelings easily. He is loyal to a fault, his loyalty may at first appear to be to his father, but the fact that he insults and belittles him at every opportunity shows otherwise. His true loyalty is to the people of Bennonite, their futures, to Rio, and eventually Emma if his route is chosen.

The first thing we see of Silvio is him haveing pushed a woman away after sex and then drinking. He drinks, alot. It may be a cultural thing, but I think it's also a repression thing. He is addicted to alcohol and sex to hide any bit of weakness.

His distain towards women is a clear factor that his parents put a very negative perception of women into his head. Basically every negative thing he has said about women, that's his father talking about his mother. Or him talking about his mother.

Now- for the Dalmation symbolism. I think the princes chose their crest around the age of 12 so that their personality has mainly formed and whatnot. So, Silvio choseing Dalmation works well (and I think makes his bond with Rio all the better because Rio also chose a dog).

For the physical symbolism, Dalmatians have a white coat with black spots on it. This shows Silvio is good at heart but has been trough and done bad things. That won't go away, but he is still a good person all the same.

Dalmations (like alot of dogs) were bred for hunting. So Silvio being sent out to do the trades, being the Bennonite representative, etc. Is his father putting him to use and sending him out for the hunt foe whatever reason he has that time. (To hopefully get him killed too)

Intelligence, loyalty, courage, determination, strength, and adaptability. Those are all things dalmations are known for and very easily apply to Silvio aswell.

This man is very intelligent, I mean, he is a merchant. I would pur him just below Gilbert and Chealver when it comes to intelligence. It probably wasn't ingrained into him, but he picked up differnt things while doing the kings errands.

I already did loyalty-

Determination... ❤️. Anyways- that determination is heavily linked towards his stubbornness. In his Romantic route, he comes up with a plan to make a four way alliance between the kingdoms. The king ends up pissed, but he knew that, he knew the conciquences and did it anyways. He dosent wish for those he travels with to end up dead. That's his number one rule. Don't. Die.

Courage is also quite the thing, I mean, he does often backtalk the king. Even gets the courage to go trough with his betrayal towards his father because of the change of loyalties.

Strength is probably not his strongest suit. But he is still very strong. He isn't apart of the military, but he has been able to fight off pirates and multiple of them at once. He could probably bring Gilbert out into a draw in a physical fight. But he isn't the strongest emotionally. He hides what he actually feels, pretends that he dosent care about the ones he cherishes the most, dosent cry when he needs to. He can't do it. But he can do it for things that will show in the long term, he wants to help Rio become what he sees as strong, so that he won't have to be hurt. He helps Emma be able to express herself freely instead of being happy 24/7. He supports those who wouldn't have the money to chase their dreams.

Adaptability is a strong suit for him. He may also lose out to Gilbert in this area, but that dosent matter. He adapts quickly into the situation with Emma since Gilbert was the one to figure out first she was Belle, so one less job for him to do. He proposes a tight deal on the first draft and makes extra so that Obsidian would agree aswell over the original plan. Makes sure that the two people he cares about the most is away from the shithead of a king.

All in all, Silvio is a good boyo and I love him alot-

[hurtspideyparker]

Why do you love Peter Parker? Do you think he deserves to be happy? (I want him to but no pressure, I’m just curious about what you think)

Peter Parker the light of my life, the gold in the sky and the glimmer at night, my inspiration, my gem, the ache in my heart.

I love Peter because for one he is so nerdy and sarcastic. I adore how quick-witted he is; like obviously he's a genius in physics and chemistry (and just in general), but being able to come up with funny remarks and stabbing insults while in the middle of a fight genuinely makes him so intelligent. And also when he uses his intellect IN a fight, like with Dr. Strange and geometry in the mirror dimension. Don't get me started on comic book Peter because he's created technology worth billions and at times outsmarted Tony Stark, Reed Richards, Hank Pym... he's just insane. 

I also just adore how geeky and awkward he is. He may be an insanely cool and beloved superhero but he also stutters when he talks to girls, geeks over Star Wars, and builds computers for fun. Peter Parker has superhuman reflexes but will also trip over his own feet. It's just incredibly endearing.

Personally I like Tom Holland's Peter the most because of how young and goofy he is. I want to see him be awkward, weird, shy, young, stupid. I enjoy seeing the contrast of inexperience and extreme power he possesses when in battle. It also makes the angst more delicious because that's a literal baby who's just been stabbed, crushed, beaten and bruised. 

The sheer New York of him too. Accent, attitude, proud and polite. He is a friendly neighbourhood hero! He watches out for the little guy! I feel like it's not something we see with many heroes. They usually focus on the big issues and major villains, but Peter is willing to help old ladies cross the street or prevent muggings. It's really sweet and simple. And when New York repays the favour? Top tier!!! He is the people's princess <3. I love that for him it's all worth it- every single person, citizen, problem. It's worth his time. 

Then there's his morality and self-control. One thing about Peter is that he's insanely strong and deadly. He's constantly holding himself back because he doesn't want to kill anybody. So in every fight not only is he battling the sensory overwhelm and keeping track of his enemies attacks, but he's also remembering to hold back his punches and kicks. He's vocally anti-murder and that's always been a really strong theme for him. It's what makes the moments where he does consider murder so much heavier. If a man who's constantly performing self-control and actively choosing to not do harm is pushed so far as to end a life? Terrifying. Peter chooses good over and over again; he spares the villain, sides with redemption, finds the solution- he chooses peace. I enjoy that for all the joyful, sweet, and bright energy he brings, there's this deep rageful darkness within him. The moments it shines through really remind us of how much wrath and trauma he really possesses.

In every universe Peter loses the things he loves most and still somehow keeps moving forward, finds the courage to still be Spider-Man. I think it says a lot about him that he can be beaten and broken so many times and still come out virtuous. His optimism, that hunger and responsibility for good? Just unmatched. So eager to do what's right that it ends up being his hamartia. It's actually pretty beautiful. 

And at the end of the day, Peter Parker is selfless. The hurt, loss, risks. All he does is give and give to make sure others are safe. He'll give up his own opportunities and happiness for the greater good every single time. He's an absolute sweetheart who will never pick himself. That's why I love Peter Parker.

So do I think he DESERVES happiness? UM, NOBODY DESERVES IT MORE THAN HIM. He's done so much for everyone, he's more than earned some happiness in return. He deserves to be happy and healthy for the rest of his life, to be at MIT with his best friends, in love, to have parental figures that DON'T DIE. 

Now do I WANT him to be happy... let's just say he looks really pretty in red and blue.

I want my man bloody and bruised, red rimmed eyes and voice cracking over tears. He's my favourite person in the universe and unfortunately for him I love angst so... yes I want him happy so he can then be sad again >:). No but seriously he deserves to be happy but bro can not catch a break (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

[diltonsstrangescience]

@ghoststudios against your advice, I did in fact read the comic where Danni was made a trans woman. And you were not kidding about Dilton. Yikes.

I mean, I figured he had to be pretty awful for you to warn me, so I was bracing myself. But in the time between learning about this comic and reading it, I developed a completely incorrect assumption of what the problem would be. Because I knew that A: this comic established Danni as trans, and B: Dilton was terrible, I figured that Dilton would be transphobic about Danni. I thought that was the problem. I was literally calling this version of him “Transphobic Dilton” in my head.

But having actually read it, he’s… not transphobic? I don’t think? Like, he calls Danni and Jinx “ladies,” plural, and he only dislikes the new “Danielle” because her transition coincided with her abandonment of the sciences, which he took as a personal insult. I could be missing something, but I think, just maybe, he’s actually accepting of transness, and understands that Danni is a girl.

I mean, he’s still also an asshole. And I am not normally someone who swears, ever, so you know this one is well-earned. This particular version of Dilton is a HUGE ASSHOLE. Oh my GOD, every single thing he says is so cruel for no reason!!! I mean, every version of him is pretentious and egotistical, but this one takes every opportunity not only to lift himself up but also to put others down, constantly insulting Danni’s intelligence—might I add, completely irrationally!!! He’s the one that screwed up and made his time machine work incorrectly! Every bit of this is his fault! Even OG Dilton could admit that, if begrudgingly!

The thing is, this comic’s characterization of Dilton isn’t actually that far off-base. I can see OG Dilt being this self-centered—expecting people to know what he wanted even if his instructions weren’t clear, taking someone’s personal decisions (such as leaving science) and making them about himself, smugly science-splaining to someone who’s probably actually smarter than him, blaming others for his mistakes so he can still feel superior, and absolutely refusing to admit that he failed to make a time machine correctly, to the point where he’s so convinced of his right-ness that he accidentally creates an entire fake world that makes it seem like he was successful. I could definitely imagine OG Dilton doing all of this, and it would be fairly in-character.

I canNOT, however, imagine OG Dilton being quite this much of a JERK about things. I’ve seen the OG get rude and annoying and condescending before, but it is literally every other sentence with this new guy, and it shoots straight past ego into plain cruelty for its own sake. It’s so hard to read.

If you don’t mind, I’ll just go back to playing with the OG duo like dolls, putting them on fun little adventures and making their dynamic increasingly more Morticia-and-Gomez-Addams-esque to restore balance to the universe. If Dilton isn’t gazing up dreamily at his amazing girlfriend like she’s the brightest star in the galaxy, then I’m doing something wrong.

[ryker-writes]

hello ! how are you ? well if you dont mind, please vil schoenheit x reader (from ramshackle, she always had a crush on him but never tell him being afraid of being rejected), we all know that vil can be mean but we still love him, the reader is very kind and always worried about him ( like she always try her best to make him feel better when he's not okay and feel loved, because he grow up with no mother, like a mother with her son having so much mercy on him), one day she'll looks at him with tears in her eyes, touching his face slowly then cries ( she always loved him and want to be in a relationship with him, but she's afraid of not being happy with him because sometimes he's mean, and arrogant, so she's lost inside not knowing what to do) and you can continue what will happend !! thank you and good luck !! ( the reader can be gender if you want i dont mind, sorry for my bad english >~< !!) 💕💖

heyo! I'm doing well thanks for asking! I'm very much enjoying writing requests. I enjoyed writing this! It's kind of soft moments with the TWST characters (especially one's like Vil) that I love. I was a little unsure of how to end it so sorry if it sounds awkward or Ooc. Anyway I hope I was able to do your request right and thank you so much for the request! <3

it was hard not to like Vil

he's very intelligent, talented, passionate, and hard working

not to mention his beauty

just looking at him is enough to take your breath away

but he had hundreds of fans who also saw this

and they wanted all of his attention

Vil was kind enough to give them plenty

he was always so nice to them

of course you liked Vil

he was always trying to help those around him look their best

Vil wanted to surround himself with people he deemed worthy

and that meant they had to look and act beautifully

he always was correcting others looks, language, and behavior

sure he could be mean about it sometimes and people often saw it as him bossing them around

but you always knew there was more to it than that

you knew that he simply strived for beauty in every aspect of his life and that included those around him

it was hard not to love Vil

very few get the opportunity to be alone with him

you considered yourself very lucky to be one of those people

it was getting late and almost time for the celebrity to rest for the night

he didn't say anything, but you could just feel that something was wrong

but when you asked he simply said nothing was wrong

a lie

you could tell

so even though he didn't tell you what was wrong, you reassured him that he could tell you if something was wrong

he just hummed and told you that you should probably be heading back to Ramshackle and he has to get ready for bed anyway

after all you shouldn't see Vil without his makeup and being less than perfect

he wouldn't want that to happen

but you just smiled at him

"You're already perfect without any of your makeup. Besides, your beauty goes beyond just your looks."

there was silence for a minute before he chuckled

"I suppose you're right. Thank you. You should be heading to bed though. Getting enough sleep will help your skin."

of course you loved Vil

but you would never tell him

you've seen how mean he can be to some people and he can really tear them down under the guise of helping them

Vil would never accept your love anyway

he had so many other fans that loved him, why would he choose you?

Vil had a rough day today, so naturally you were there for him

he had been standing in front of you and venting about all the trouble the first years caused

he was insulting all the first years as he talked

hearing him just absolutely tear into the first years had started something in your brain

would Vil talk about you like this if you did something wrong?

you love Vil, you truly do

but would you be able to take his insults day after day of being with him?

could you even be happy like that? being with the one you love but he treats you like that?

at some point Vil had stopped talking and was now fully facing you

he never liked being worried or stressed because it can cause wrinkles and acne, but there he was with a worried expression

you heard him ask why you were crying

you were crying? since when?

had your thoughts really driven you so far that you were crying in front of him?

he probably thinks of crying as an ugly thing right?

would he start insulting you here and now for doing something so ugly?

slowly, you reached out to cup his cheek

though you're not sure why you did so

he didn't push you away or try to stop you at all

he even leaned into your touch and sighed

"If you felt that strongly about the first years, you could have told me."

shaking your head you mumbled, "It's not that. I just..."

"You're tired of hearing me talk like this."

hesitantly you nodded

that may have been part of it, but he doesn't need to know the rest

he hummed, "I suppose I haven't been to kind lately. How horrible of me. You're too kind to me and I just stand here insulting everyone else."

gently, he set his hand atop yours and removed it from his face

his fingers intertwined with yours and he used his other hand to wipe the tears off your face

"This would be so much easier if you just confessed your feelings already."

w h a t

no really, what?

he knows????

how does he know?

was it obvious?

Vil seemed to sense your internal panic and chuckled

"I've had people fall in love with me before Darling. It's easy to recognize. I'm more surprised you haven't said anything. If you did then I'm sure all of this would be easier for you to talk about. So tell me, why haven't you?"

there was a moment of silence as you processed everything

once your brain had a moment to catch up, you told him

"I'm just a bit worried. You can be really mean sometimes, and I just...I don't know if I can handle that."

for a split second, he looked offended before sighing again

"I would never want to be mean or insult you, ever. You are the one person who doesn't need me to help with their appearance. Even I can't improve what's already perfect."

Of course, Vil loved you too

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Ahhh sorry I'm a tad blazed one more.one more

You don't have to but I totes wanna share this idea and if you like it I give it to you lol

Aemond/reader, reluctant lovers

Like they hate that they are attracted to each other but he's so addicted to her and she to him song for the inspooooo

Warnings: Smut. Word count: ~1000

Her eyes light up as they settle on the tome she is searching for in the library; Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History. She has been visiting the library every day for the last month looking for this book. She is desperate to read it, but it’s never there; he always has it.

Excitement bubbles in her chest as she reaches up for the book, only for the feeling to be replaced by annoyed exasperation as long, nimble fingers beat her to it and grab it before she can.

She sighs, turning to face the tall Targaryen Prince. He is ever the infuriatingly perfect picture of regality as he stands there, a smirk tugging at his full lips. She longs to slap that stupid look off of his face.

“Aemond, I wanted to read that!” She protests.

“I was unaware that you could.” He says flatly.

She rolls her eyes at his obvious insult. “You have read that book already.”

“And I shall read it again.” Aemond replies, his mocking smirk never faltering.

Scoffing, she reaches to take it from him. “You only want it because I do!”

He lifts it from her reach, his right eye narrowing at her. “A bold accusation. What purpose could you possibly have for wanting to learn about dragons? You aren’t of Valyrian blood.”

She groans in frustration. It has always been this way ever since they were children. She cannot stand Aemond Targaryen. He is the bane of her existence and makes life as a ward of his house incredibly difficult.

They bicker at every opportunity. His compulsion to have the last word and know more than her on every conceivable subject drives her to the point of madness. It feels as though he seeks her out just to annoy her, constantly belittling her, insulting her intelligence and making a mockery of everything she does.

“Just give me the bloody book!” She finally snaps, losing her temper. She feels the flush of anger heat the skin of her cheeks.

Aemond’s expression remains unchanged. He turns from her, eye scanning the bookshelves before pulling out what he is looking for and offering it to her. “I believe this is perhaps better suited.”

She gasps as she reads the title, A Caution for Young Girls. It is infamous as one of the most debased works of carnal debauchery circulating throughout the Seven Kingdoms, of the lowest sort.

“How dare you!” She hisses, smacking the book out of Aemond’s hand and glaring at him.

He chuckles, gaze flickering to the floor where the book now lays, then back to her angry face. “Pick that up.”

“I shall do no such thing!”

“Openly defying the orders of a Prince.” He tuts. “Insolent wench.”

Furious, and without thinking, she lunges for him, ready to strike his cheek with her palm.

He captures her wrist easily, before she is able to make contact, yanking her body to his. Her surprised yelp is muffled by his mouth as he captures her lips with his. The kiss takes her by surprise, but what shocks her most is the intensity with which she finds herself returning his affection.

“Stupid girl.” He mutters against her lips, before forcing her backwards.

That is how she ends up with a leg wrapped around Aemond’s waist, as he drives his cock into her against the bookshelves in the library. It is frantic, the air of desperation thick between the two of them.

When it is over, he pulls out, composes himself and then leaves without a word. She is shocked and confused. That was the very last thing she had expected to happen. Irritation interrupts her astonished pondering when she realises he has taken the book she wanted with him. Bastard.

No further mention of their tryst is made by either of them, then a few days later she laughs at dinner as Aegon calls Aemond a pompous arse. Aemond has a few choice words for her later that evening and that is how she finds herself with her skirts bunched up over her hips and his head between her thighs, feasting on her cunt like she is his last meal. Once more they part as though nothing has transpired between the two of them.

A week later, Aemond passes a comment that her dress would be better suited to the Street of Silk and, following a heated exchange, she is on her knees as he thrusts into her mouth, spilling his seed down her throat.

The pattern continues over the coming weeks, passionate arguments followed by passionate coupling. Over time she finds herself less irritated by Aemond’s presence. She begins to wonder if perhaps they are finding excuses to annoy each other as a means to be intimate afterwards.

She ponders this as she lays in her bed, Aemond’s spend trickling out of her as he lounges beside her catching his breath; the post-coital recovery that has come about as the result of an argument she can no longer remember.

When he leans over the side of the bed, she expects him to begin dressing and leave without a word, much like he always does. She is surprised when he leans back, passing her the copy of Unnatural History that had started all of this in the first place.

“You can have this.” He says softly. “There is a part where Septon Barth describes how the children of the forest could speak with ravens and make them repeat their words. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Her eyes look at the book then up at his face, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Aemond, I don’t understand…what is this?” “A book.” He says simply.

She smacks his arm playfully, annoyed that she wants to laugh at his response rather than be angry with him for it.

“You know that is not what I meant.” She chides. “What is this between us? I thought you hated me, but you are behaving like the opposite.” “Hate is not the opposite of love.” He corrects her with a sense of smug satisfaction. “It is indifference, and I have never been indifferent towards you.”

Her breath catches in her throat, as her heart flutters. “Y-you love me?” She stammers.

Smirking, Aemond murmurs “Stupid girl.” before pulling her to him for a soft kiss.

Read on AO3

More Aemond fics

[puzzledcretin]

Joyride

(Written for @tmnt-write-fight for @letsdeweythis)

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Prompt: Rise Splinter and April go on a father-daughter outing Word Count: 2,702

Read On AO3

“APRIL, IF YOU DO NOT STEP ON THE GAS YOU ARE GROUNDED!” Splinter shouted at the top of his lungs. 

The tires of the turtle tank bounced against the asphalt of the road. The entire vehicle jostled aggressively, but firm hands on the wheel held the old girl in place. 

“Oh, I know you are not trying to ground me right now. I am the one with a license-”

“I had my license!”

“Yeah! When you could reach the pedals!” April shouted back, turning her head to look at the rat in question. Splinter looked back at her, his eyes narrowing as he took in the hurled insult. “And you can’t ground me! I am not your baby, Splints!” 

April maintained her gaze on Splinter. His gaze turned forwards, his jaw seemed to clench. There was something in his expression that she couldn’t quite pick out, something that she could have sworn she had seen before. She just couldn’t place where. 

“Watch the traffic light!” Splinter suddenly yells, breaking April out of her stupor.

April jerked her head forward and shouted as she slammed her hand down on the bright pink button on the console. Her goal had been to lower the suspension to ride under the traffic light, but when the explosive sound of boosters fired off behind them, they both knew this wasn’t going to end well.

The tank accelerated rapidly, the windshield on a straight collision course. April gripped the steering wheel, in the corner of her vision she could see Splinter’s claws gripping the arm rests of his seat. 

The two screamed as they sped closer and closer-

-

“Hi, I’m April O’Neil, and you’re probably wondering how I got here.”

April moved to sit in front of her camera. She adjusted her glasses, looking down to the small note cards in her hands. They held the script she had so perfectly crafted, but as she looked up into the lens of the camera, she froze. 

This felt.. Entirely phony. Which was stupid, she was doing a silly little school assignment that asked her about the influences in her life. She wanted to talk about her parents. Her mother was a strong, passionate woman. She taught April to stand up in the face of trouble and kick until she couldn’t anymore. And her father was an extremely intelligent man, he encouraged her to excel in school and to chase every opportunity to the ends of the Earth if she wanted to. Her parents were shining beacons in her life- but they weren’t the only ones.

April’s mind drifted, she knew exactly who her life influences were. A bunch of slimy mutants in the sewers who she called friends for years at this point. They shaped her!

Raphael taught her to be strong and shout in the face of evil. 

Leonardo taught her to be confident, she believed she developed some of her quick wit from him. 

Donatello taught her.. A lot. There wasn’t much he didn’t tutor her on. But with all of that came with her love of knowledge and investigation. 

And Michelangelo taught her to have fun. Even if it was stressful, even if it was hard, she knew how to have fun.

Those were her influences. April groaned, pushing herself to lean back in her chair. She pulled her glasses off her face, wrapping her arm over her eyes. She breathed out slowly, trying to weigh her options for the time being. 

The assignment required voice recording or video recordings of an interview with a person who influenced you. Talk to them about it, ask them questions. 

This was a hard decision to make- and it was a dumb assignment. But she got up from her chair and walked out of her room. Her father was out of town for the week, some business related thing that she couldn’t recall off the top of her head. And her mother was working the night shift at the hospital. April could wait for her, but she wanted to get this out of the way. 

April grabbed her backpack and searched through it for a moment, digging around. She really needed to clean this out at some point, too many pencils and wadded up pieces of paper. Finally, she found what she was looking for. With careful hands, she pulled out the old voice recorder she had. It was old, but her dad had found it in a thrift shop on one of his trips and Donnie tricked it out for her. 

She tossed her bag back down to the floor and walked over to the door. April snagged her shoes and slipped them on as she left out the door. 

Fine, she would just interview one of the turtles! That’s fine, she’ll say they’re one of her cousins. It would be easy and then she could edit it all and send it in to her teachers. Easy peasy and she can start her weekend. She had a great show to catch up on and everyday she waited was another day she risked massive spoilers!

April tugged her jacket tighter around her body as she made her way down to the sewers. At this point of the night, she should be able to catch at least one of them! 

-

“What? Drax is taking us on a training retreat, we’re leaving right now,”

April’s eye twitched as she looked at the group of four turtles in front of her. Leo was grinning wide, a pair of bright blue goggles slapped over his eyes. They looked ridiculous with the plastic nose covering his snout. Tossed over his shoulder, he had a light blue towel to match. 

“You’re joking.” April stated flatly, adjusting her glasses as she tried to think. “You.. What do you mean you’re training? Since when do you leave to train?” She questioned, looking between the turtles.

Mikey grinned, adjusting the bright yellow floaties that were wrapped around his biceps, “Draxum is taking us to an underground river to train our swimming! You know, embrace the turtle, baby!”

“I would like to not embrace the turtle, actually. Dear, April, I will stay home and conduct the interview with you-” Donnie stepped away from his brothers, but then a large hand came down on his head and pulled him back, ignoring the indignant squawk that followed. 

“Sorry, Donnie. But you’ve got the best set of lungs out of all of us, little bro. You have to come with us.” Raph decided, moving his hand down to smack Donnie’s back. The soft shell stumbled forward, but caught himself with a huff. 

Mikey pulled out his phone as he heard the text tone chime, staring at the screen for a long moment. He squinted at it, “Okay.. Either Drax wants us to do our laundry or we gots to go. I am putting my money on the second one but we can never be too sure,” 

Leo rolled his eyes before pulling one of his katana from their sheaths. With a smooth twirl of his wrist, a bright blue portal formed beside them along with a small trickle of water that spilled from it. 

“I’m sorry, April. But it looks like we have to go. But! If you’re here when we get back, I am more than willing to show off my star potential,” Leo said as he flipped his mask tails over his shoulders. “Come on, guys, we have to hit the river!”

Leo leapt through the portal first, followed by Mikey and then Raph. Donnie stopped, grabbing April’s hand, “Don’t make me go with them, I’ll do anything. Do you want your laptop overclocked? I’ll do it! April please!” Three hands came out of the portal and yanked Donnie through it. The portal swirled for a moment longer before disappearing. 

April huffed, looking down at her now wet sneakers. Great, great! This was fantastic. April pushed her glasses up to rest on her head. She was ultimately screwed if she didn’t figure something out at this point. The young woman pulled her recorder out of her jacket pocket and looked down at it. 

“Dang it man… Now I have to go home,” She muttered and shoved it back into her pocket. 

“Young April!” 

April turned her head to the side and let out a sigh, “Hey Splints! I thought you’d be out training with goat man and the boys?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest. 

The mutated rat scoffed, swiping his hand over his old robe, “I will not have wet fur! Look at it, it’s far too nice,” Splinter said, pushing the fur along his head back. It used to be just gray, but the more April looked at it, the more she could see the white strands poking through. She remembered when she first met the man, he looked much different now. But, so did she. 

“What are you doing? It’s quite late,” Splinter inquired, though his eyes seemed to linger around the area in which the portal had disappeared from.  

“Nothing now! My evening plans just walked into the Hidden City along with your boys! I’m probably going to go home now, not much else I can do now,” She muttered, rubbing her chin slowly. 

“Hm.. Why don’t you join me on some errands! You have your license now, right?” Splinter asked, gesturing April to follow, 

“Well.. Yeah? Why do I need it?”

-

“And why did we have to come here?” April questioned as she looked at the old looking tea shop before her eyes. She flickered her gaze over to the elderly rat who was looking over a small list in his hands. 

“This is the one tea shop in New York that carries everything I want! Now, let’s go,” Splinter said as he got up from his seat. April cocked her head to the side but followed along, walking out of the turtle tank on his heels. 

The two walked up to the door and Splinter pulled a hood up over his head. April shoved her hands into her pocket as she walked through the door, looking around. Incense seemed to be on one side of the store while small artifacts lay in cases. It was bizarre. 

“Splints, I’ve worked in 75% of all retail stores in this city but I have never heard of this one,” She muttered.

“That’s because this is a family store, no need for employees when they have family!” Splinter barked out a laugh at his own joke as he walked over to the counter. An old man looked down from his newspaper, looked Splinter over before scoffing. 

“We have nothing for you here, go now.” The man ordered, flicking his newspaper to straighten out the pages. April arched her eyebrow further, eyes shifting from Splinter to the man behind the counter over and over. Splinter’s body seemed to tense, but he puffed out his chest and placed his hands on his hips. “Well! I am sure that’s just simply not true. Now if I can pick up my order-”

“Beat it, Yoshi.” The man glared over his newspaper, “You come in here all the time and say you will pay next time, but you never pay. Your account is closed until your debt is paid. Now go.”

April let out a long sigh, reaching behind her to pull her wallet out of her back pocket. 

“No, April-”

“How much is this debt?” April asked as she stepped up to the counter. Her thumb pressed against her debit card, nail scraping against it. 

The man behind the counter seemed to only grow more agitated, slamming the newspaper closed as he pulled his feet from the counter. He set the folded up paper on the counter so he could face April properly. 

“1,783 dollars and 42 cents,” 

April’s eye twitched, slowly turning her head to look at Splinter, who was very pointedly looking away from him. 

“Hey, Splints,”

“Yes, April?”

“Why, of all things, do you have a severe tea debt?” 

April’s question was met with a very long silence, followed by the man behind the counter scoffing once again and leaning back in his seat. 

“I knew it,” He muttered, picking up the newspaper once again. April closed her wallet, stuffing it back into her pocket before she turned on her heel. 

“Well, looks like we’re going home, Splints. Come on,” April called, stuffing her hands in her hoodie pockets as she walked to the door. She rolled her neck, pushing open the door as she pulled the tank keys out of her pocket.

“HEY!”

“Run April!” 

Suddenly, the short rat sped out the door before April could and she turned her head behind her to see the man behind the counter on the phone, pulling a weapon that April couldn’t identify.

She very quickly sped out the door, slamming it behind her as she raced up onto the tank. 

“What did you do!” April shouted as she got into the driver's seat, looking over at Splinter. Sat in his lap, was a small box of expensive looking tea. 

“You stole something!”

“Now is not the time-”

“No, now seems like the perfect time to talk about my sudden accompanying of your crimes! What were you thinking??” April questioned. Splinter’s eyebrows drew together and he seemed conflicted. April rolled her wrist, trying to urge an answer out of the man and right as he finally opened his mouth, the tank shook violently. 

“What??” April questioned as she looked at the monitor. On the back up cam, she saw three cars, one of which had crashed into the rear of the tank. “Oh Donnie is not going to be happy about that…”

“Drive!”

-

And that’s basically where we left off, let’s get back to that, shall we?

As the two sped towards the traffic light, April yanked her hands off the wheel in order to cover her face. Splinter looked up at her, his eyes widening before he reached over and yanked on the steering wheel. He jerked the tank to the right, speeding it down into a parking garage. 

April pulled her head up as the entire tank seemed to tilt to the left, just in time to see Splinter slam his foot down onto the brakes. The tank squealed loudly followed by complete silence as Splinter twisted the key in the ignition. 

April jerked her head around to look over her shoulder behind her, the three cars that had been chasing them sped on past the entrance to the garage. 

“What.. What were you thinking!!” April shouted as she looked to Splinter. Splinter moved to sit back in his seat, his thumb brushing over the lid of the tea box. Once again, April’s words were met with silence, Splinter was staring at the small box and April couldn’t read the text that was on it, it was all in Japanese. Unfortunately, her Duolingo lessons would not be helping her this time. 

“Splints..”

“You looked sad,”

“What?”

Splinter finally turned his head to look up at April, “You looked sad. That the boys were leaving. I understand, being left behind. It’s not the same, I know, but I understand. And I didn’t want you to be left behind. My plan was to get this fancy tea and some popcorn and we could watch some movies. But, I understand if you want to go home,” Splinter spoke softly. 

April stared for a long moment. She.. Well, she had no words for this. But she did know that Splinter was an idiot. 

“You stole tea for me?” 

“Of course, I’d steal tea for any of my children,”

April couldn’t help but tear up just a little, reaching up to wipe her eye from under her glasses. She settled back in her seat some, tapping her fingers along the armrest of her chair. Splinter, as crazy as he was, was possibly the most unorthodox in his kindness, but it was kindness nonetheless. 

Slowly, she pulled the recorder from her pocket one final time and looked down at it, running her thumb over the five dots where the microphone laid. 

“Actually… Would you be interested in doing an interview for me?”