#is this finally my rebel teenage years?

[bernardsbendystraws]

You Don’t Own Me

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: Mentions of drinking, drunk driving, dog penises, and more. 

A/N: FIRST CHAPTER OF A NEW SERIES HOES!!!

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

P1: Dumb Dog Dicks

wc: 1100+

The screech of the tires scratching on the street sends a shiver down my spine, my clammy hands clenching together harder. 

“Assholes,” I mutter, dragging my dirty shoes along the cement. Even the laces are sticky, a bright, unnatural blue staring back at me as I watch the cracks in the sidewalk pass beneath each step. 

It was stupid. Tessa had invited me to the party. I had been excited to have fun, but it wasn’t fun. The vibrant stain on my shoes was definitely from some kind of jungle juice. I hate jungle juice. 

Well, I hate alcohol in general. But jungle juice? That's a different kind of hatred. The entire point of the drink is to mix it with so many add-ins that the alcohol is barely noticeable. Which is why so many people were throwing up at that damn party. 

My house isn’t far. It’s only a couple of streets away from the booze-infested mansion. But it’s far enough to be a different neighborhood. It wasn’t sketchy by any means, I enjoyed the suburbs. The neighbors were nice, but their dogs were even nicer. 

Especially this one. 

“Hi, girl!” I whisper-shout, crouching down to reach my hand through the metal cross-wired fence. A short laugh escapes through my lips as the small dog snorts, licking my hand enthusiastically. 

She’s adorable. I pass her every day on my morning walks. She’s always sunbathing, her eyes glowing like honey in the sunshine. And she’s just a sweetheart. This moment is exactly what I needed after tonight. 

The fence rattles as she tosses herself against it, desperate for more pets. The clatter echoes through the empty streets, making my eyes go wide. 

Looking around, I’m relieved to see nothing but a flickering lamp post. I know walking home alone this late isn’t smart, but it’s still better than letting a drunk guy drive me home. Even though Shawn had promised to stay sober. 

“So dumb,” I mumble, rubbing the dog’s ear–something I know she loves. Although I have pet her countless times, I still can’t get a hold of her collar to read her name. Not that it really matters–she liked being called Cutie. 

“Did you just call my dog dumb?” 

My whole body jolts at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. I quickly retract my hand from the fence, clutching my chest as I gasp for air. 

“Jesus! I–no, no, I was just…” I stand up fast, my eyes dropping to my hands as I smooth down my short skirt. Why does it have to be so cold? “I was talking to myself, sorry,” I huff, giving the dog one last glance before finally looking up. 

A lump forms in my throat as I meet his gaze. Even in the dim light, I can see how bright his eyes are–sharp, piercing. Intimidating. 

“She’s, uh… she’s really cute,” I add, nodding to the dog as I give an awkward smile. 

My forehead crinkles as I watch him cock an eyebrow, his arms unfolding slightly as he gestures toward the dog. “She’s,” he points, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth, “-a he.” 

Oh. 

She’s a he. 

“Oh.” My mouth draws into an ‘O’ as I chew the inside of my cheek. I wrap my arms around myself, bracing against the cold breeze that cuts through the air. God, I wish this skirt were longer.

“Yeah.” He reaches for the fence gate, pushing it open and shutting it behind him with a soft clank. “Why are you petting a random dog at…” He glances down at his phone before stuffing it back into his coat pocket. “Nearly two in the morning?” 

The judgemental look on his face makes my fingers twitch. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was walking home from a party,” I grumble, my tongue pressing against the back of my teeth as I hug my arms closer.

His lips curl slightly. “This late? Are you stupid?”

I clench my teeth, a sharp breath leaving my nose. “I–well—you, ugh.” 

His head tilts, watching me like he’s waiting for me to form a coherent sentence. 

Annoyed, I cross my arms. “What are you doing out so late, hm?” I shoot back, my confidence wavering as he stares at me–completely unfazed. 

My feet shift against the pavement as I drop my posture slightly, glancing away. The flickering street lamp blinks in my peripheral vision, its erratic pattern drawing my gaze to the tall metal post.

“I went for a walk,” he says blankly. 

I slowly turn my head back toward him with a raised brow. “Without your dog?” I gesture toward the so-called ‘he,’ who is now cleaning himself. 

Yep. That’s definitely a boy. 

My shoulders shutter as I recoil slightly, disgust creeping up my spine. 

“Trevor's lazy,” he states.

My ears perk at the name. Trevor. 

A small smile creeps onto my face as Trevor stirs at the mention of his name, wagging his tail slightly. 

Trevour wags his tail half-heartedly before flopping onto his side, done with us both. 

I smirk. “Yeah, he seems real energetic.” 

The guy exhales through his nose, unimpressed. “He has more sense than you, at least. Doesn’t go wandering around at night like an idiot.”

My smirk drops. “Okay, rude.”

He shrugs. “Not rude. Just stating facts.”

I glare. “Well, fact: I’m fine. I walk this way all the time.”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Wow. That makes it so much safer.”

I groan, throwing my hands in the air. “You know what? I don’t need a lecture from some random guy who names his dog Trevor.”

His eyes narrow slightly. “What’s wrong with the name Trevor?”

“It’s just—” I glance at the dog, who’s now licking his own paw in oblivious contentment. “It’s very human.”

The guy crosses his arms. “Yeah? Well, Cutie isn’t exactly original.”

My face heats up. “It’s not his real name! I just—ugh, whatever.” I back up toward the sidewalk, rubbing my arms against the cold.

He watches me for a moment before sighing. “Chris.”

I blink. “What?”

“My name. Since you’re so desperate to call me something other than ‘random guy who names his dog Trevor.’”

I hesitate before answering. “Y/N.”

Chris nods once. “Cool.”

There’s a brief, awkward silence. Trevor lets out a loud yawn.

“Well,” I say, shifting on my feet, “enjoy your walk.”

“Enjoy not getting kidnapped,” he retorts.

I scoff but don’t dignify him with another response. Instead, I spin on my heel and march away, my shoes still sticky, my mood somehow worse than it was before.

Behind me, I hear the fence creak, followed by a soft, “C’mon, Trevor.”

I roll my eyes. Chris.

This neighborhood just got a whole lot more annoying.

[petercapaldi-press]

INTERVIEW

Doctor Who Magazine

October 2014

"The Doctor sees himself as a cosmic, timeless philosopher, an explorer, adventurer, righter of wrongs, and hopeless piece of flotsam and jetsam. I think he has to be all of those things..."

Simple, stark, and back to basics. No frills, no scarf, no messing. Just 100% rebel Time Lord. The Twelfth Doctor is in the building...

Interview by Benjamin Cook

[transcript under the cut]

Peter Capaldi is cool. This time last year, bow ties were cool, and fezzes, or Stetsons, possibly bunk beds. But now it’s the Doctor himself. Cool and composed, still never cruel or cowardly, and just the right amount of scary. If you’re anxious about this new, unfamiliar Doctor bursting onto our screens this month in his first, feature-length adventure, don’t be. Firstly, he’s brilliant. Secondly, you’re not alone. Because beneath his cool, unflappable exterior, 56-year old Peter is anxious too.

“I’m terrified,” he admits. “I have been since the very first day. At the first readthrough, there were so many people, the room was packed, you’re being filmed from the moment you step through the door. You think, ‘Oh God, I’ve got to do something good with the part now.’ When I got to film it, I was very frightened. I still am. It’s actually getting a bit more frightening now, because the show is coming on shortly. You’re in a bubble when you’re making it, because it’s so all-consuming. You sort of forget that it’s going out into the world, people are going to have opinions about it, and it’s going to work or it’s not. Once all that enters your head, you get scared all over again. You know? It’s a big challenge, because it’s sort of not about acting chops; it’s about whether or not the people like you, and there’s no guarantee of that. But you can’t spend every day terrified or you’d never get anything done - it’s not much use to you, if you’re on edge – so you sort of have to just not look down. You have to try to get on with that scene, with those words, coming through that door, running after that monster. Concentrate on those elements, and not on the bigger picture. The Doctor is rarely that frightened.” A pause. “I think it’s good to be frightened.” He mulls this over, before adding: “But also it’s delightful.”

It's well documented that Peter is a fan of Doctor Who. You’ll have read the letter he wrote, as a teenager, to Radio Times, lamenting the death of original Master actor Roger Delgado and applauding a recent article on how to build a Dalek. (‘Who knows, the country could be invaded by an army of school Daleks,’ wrote 15-year-old Peter. ‘Ah, but we’d be safe, as we’d have Dr Who to protect us!’) You’ll know that he collected the Doctors’ autographs, wrote fan fiction, drew fan art, and once interviewed Bernard Lodge, the designer of the show’s original title sequence, for a Doctor Who fanzine. You might even know that Peter was involved in the early days of organized fandom, and penned numerous letters to the Doctor Who production office inquiring about how the show was made. One time, producer Barry Letts wrote back, sending Peter two shooting scripts for 1972 Pertwee serial The Mutants, “a trigger to my ambition to work somehow – I didn’t know how – in TV,” Peter has said.

Which makes it all the more satisfying that forty-something years later, on a blisteringly hot Saturday afternoon in July 2014, Peter is stood on the steps of St Paul’s Cathedral – the real one in London, not, as showrunner Steven Moffat teases, "an exact replica that we’ve built in Cardiff” – shooting the two-part finale of his first series as the Doctor. He still can’t quite believe it. “I’m amazed,” he tells DWM, “to find myself close to the end now. It’s all gone very quickly.”

Stood next to Peter, fellow Glaswegian Michelle Gomez is all Edwardian and chic – and probably up to no good – as the intriguingly-titled Gatekeeper of the Nethersphere. A passing London cabbie rolls down his window and yells, “It’s Doctor Who and Mary Poppins!”

Peter starts to sing. “Feed the birds, tuppence a bag…”

Off camera, five Cybermen lurk. They’re not joining in. (Cybermen can’t sing.) They were last spotted stomping around St Palu’s in the 1968 serial The Invasion, which Peter watched on its original airing. Of course he did. “It’s great to recreate it today,” he says. “Although, I think they had more Cybermen back then.”

“But we can CGI in extra ones,” points out Steven. “And will! Come on, it’s pretty impressive.” He’s right, it is. As the Cybermen march down the cathedral steps, Peter takes photos on his mobile phone. “It’s terrifying when they come straight at you,” marvels Steven. “They look quite funny on the stairs, but then - uh oh!”

For the past six months, Peter has divided his time between his home in London, and Cardiff, the spiritual home of twenty-first century Doctor Who. He saves the universe Mondays to Fridays, then returns to London at weekends to spend time with his wife and daughter. Peter and his wife have been married for 23 years. Remarkably, he has been reading DWM for even longer. “For as long as I can remember,” he says. See, he’s a proper fan. Right now, a few feet away from us, there are several hundred fellow fans, watching the filming from behind police cordons. “It’s nice for them to have something to see,” Peter says. “The best days are always those where we’re blowing up monsters in broad daylight.” He heads over to meet the fans between virtually every take – signing autographs, posing for photos. His dedication is relentless. This man cares.

What was it that first attracted Peter to Doctor Who? Growing up in the 1960s in Glasgow, BBC TV Centre must have seemed a world away…

“Well, yes, regional accents were few and far between on television,” he remembers. “That’s how shows were. That’s how drama and entertainment was presented. But it absolutely didn’t feel a world away. It’s odd now when you think about it, as most drama then was London-centric, but we didn’t think about that. It was full of monsters, and creatures, and mystery, and darkness, and fun, and magic. Anybody who enjoyed the show had a very intimate relationship with it, so it never occurred to me for a second where it was made. It didn’t feel as though we were watching different people, other than when they were supposed to be not human. People have often asked me, since I took up the role, what the attraction is, and I find almost any answer is wanting. You can break it down into constituent events or psychoanalytical nuggets, but in the end it’s a sort of myth to me; a curious mix of sci-fi, and the fairytale, and the mysterious. It’s quite a darkly magical thing, I think. I like to keep it a mystery.

Does it feel like the same show he’s working on now?

“To me it does, but I know that it isn’t. The show is clearly, on lots of levels, very different. It’s a very huge, commercial concern. It’s international in a way that it wasn’t before. That’s the show that we’re making. But at its heart it’s the same, because it’s made by people with a very deep and respectful affection for the show through all its incarnations. Also, it’s not about standing still. It’s constantly moving and looking forward. It must bring the past with it, without being slavish to it. Of course, sometimes we make a very specific reference to the past. Sometimes the past does assert itself very powerfully…”

Let me tell you about my first meeting with Peter. It’s 1 May 2014, and I’m in a Nottingham Castle vault. In Cardiff. This is perfectly normal. They’re shooting Episode 3, Mark Gatiss’ Robot of Sherwood. I first glimpse Peter standing beneath a Medieval tapestry, practicing the yo-yo. Ben Miller is here too, playing the Sheriff of Nottingham, but looking spookily like Anthony Ainley’s Master circa 1983. During a break in filming, I slink out of the castle, and onto the empty, darkened TARDIS set next door. Because I’m nosy, and I want to see what they’ve done with the place since the new Doctor arrived. He has left his mark. The console room now boasts bookshelves, a chalkboard, a small workshop… but it’s dark and I can’t really see, so I venture in a little further. It no longer feels like I’m in a Cardiff TV studio or that Robin Hood is next door, or that this isn’t actually the TARDIS. And that’s when I hear a voice. “Hello, you must be new.” It’s him! Not Peter Capaldi, but the Doctor. Looking a lot like Peter Capaldi. He’s sitting on a fold-up chair, in the shadows, where he was rehearsing his lines before DWM broke in. But he smiles warmly, and says he loves the magazine. “It relaxes me after a long day,” he explains. “I’m enjoying Doctor Who Magazine very much at the moment, and I’m glad that someone is documenting all of this stuff.”

Then the Doctor shows me around his TARDIS. “Essentially, it’s Matt [Smith]’s TARDIS, with a few additions,” he says. “You can’t see today, but it’s usually lit quite differently. Lots of orange. I think we might stick with this next year, too.” He’s talking about next year already! This man loves his job. “How could I not? It’s Doctor Who.” He talks enthusiastically of the fans he’s met since taking on the role (“They see the Doctor, not Peter Capaldi. That’s better, I think. The Doctor is much more interesting than I am”), and of how thrilled he is with this year’s crop of scripts, even those that are delivered at the eleventh hour (“I’d much prefer that than them arriving a week earlier and not being as brilliant”), and of how important it is with a show as huge as this that everyone who works on it cares as much as they do. His only regret about taking on the role, he confesses, is that he’s aware that one day he must give it up. “So I’m determined to enjoy every day as much as I can.”

Then he shows me his binder. This is the binder in which Peter keeps his scripts. It’s covered in photos from old episodes of Doctor Who. “It’s kind of like a school thing, really,” he explains. “I was looking for some stuff to decorate it. There’s a certain childlike thing… You surround yourself with images, and try to conjure a creative environment, even within the little plastic folder that I’ve bought from the stationary shop, that’s going to constantly remind you of things, put ideas in your head. I found these pictures on the internet.” There’s a photo of an out-of-costume Jon Pertwee and Liz Shaw actress Caroline John rehearsing a scene from 1970 serial Inferno (“He looks very dashing,” comments Peter, “and I like that, because I sort of don’t imagine any of the Doctors in their own clothes. It’s unusual to see him like that on the TARDIS set, and a reminder of how elegant he was in real life”); another of Pertwee and Delgado sharing a smile during the filming of 1971’s The Claws of Axos; one of a beaming Tom Baker in the mid-70s, at the height of his powers, surrounded by a sea of adoring children and curious old ladies; a photo of Baker during a visit to the Royal Edinburgh Hospital for Sick Children, enjoying a light-hearted moment with the nurses (“It looks like it was taken in the 30s,” says Peter, “which it can’t have been but it’s a picture of great warmth”); another of William Hartnell, in full Who regalia, signing a girl’s plaster cast during a visit to a children’s ward in the 60s…

“It’s a reminder,” says Peter, “that whatever people might think about William Hartnell, this was somebody who was going out to children’s hospitals on his days off, making sick kids feel a little bit better. It reminded me of that element of the show, that connection that kids and young people make to it.” It’s clear that Peter isn’t taking the responsibilities that come with playing the Doctor lightly. The photos adorning his binder are, he says, “fun little signals of the show’s past, for me, and a connection with childhood, I guess. I realise now, as I’m saying it to you, it’s an underlining of where Doctor Who was born for me. It was my childhood.”

When I next meet Peter, he’s shooting Episode 8, Mummy on the Orient Express. It’s the second week of June. Peter, Clara actress Jenna Coleman, and guest star Frank Skinner – another diehard Doctor Who fan – are on the fully-lit TARDIS. Frank is transfixed by the orange glow of the central console. “Stunning, isn’t it?”

“It’s like Alien under there,” nods director Paul Wilmshurst.

Frank isn’t even in this scene. He just wanted to be on the TARDIS set to watch Peter. “It’s like I’m watching Doctor Who live,” grins Frank, “but from a really, really good seat.”

Peter is worried that the Doctor is too solemn in this scene. “That’s a very serious face,” he says, watching himself back on the camera monitor. “There’s tension there. The Saturday night audience, they want it to be, ‘Yeah, hooray, now whoosh, let’s go,’ but that ain’t happening.”

“The Saturday night audience is a mixture of people,” Paul reminds him. “No, I like it.”

This weekend, Peter read the scripts for his first season finale. “It’s a stormer,” he tells me, then fixes me dead in the eyes and asks: “The Caves of Androzani. Why’s it so popular?”

Um. It looks amazing… The whole serial oozes class… It’s probably Peter Davison’s finest performance as the Doctor… It’s everything you could want from a Doctor’s swansong.

Peter looks satisfied, for now. “Interesting. Thank you.” He bounds off to film a scene. (Later, on board the Orient Express, I overhear a conversation between Peter and Frank. “Sharaz Jek,” Peter is saying. “Don’t you think he’s brilliant?” “Yes!” Frank replies. “Oh, I love Sharaz Jek!” I leave them to it.) Ten minutes later, Peter is back. “Ben, how long can Time Lords live for? Also, what’s the best Colin Baker story?”

Okay. Weill. Thousands of years. And I nominate The Trial of a Time Lord, controversially. (So sue me. Or send your letters of complaint to the editorial address.) But Trial aired in 1986, I point out, at a time when the BBC wasn’t all that supportive of Doctor Who.

“That must have been hard,” says Peter, “for the people who worked on it back then. Fortunately for us, that’s no longer the case. This show couldn’t be more supported.”

A few weeks later, back in London, I ask Peter about this day, and his questions about former Doctors. “It’s two things,” he explains. “This is an extraordinary part, with an extraordinary history to it, so I’m very conscious of arriving in this historical context. But also it’s very, very personal, because your own experience of the show informs it, so I was keen to make myself more familiar with Peter and Colin, because that’s when I sort of left the show behind. I was about 17, 18 years old midway through Tom Baker, and I started to drift away a bit. I don’t mean I didn’t watch it, but… I’m not as familiar with it. I wasn’t there as religiously on Saturday afternoons as I had been previously, and in those days there were no VCRs, no DVDs. If you missed it, you missed it. I wanted to learn about my ‘lost years’. I think it’s important to know and to understand what was going on in the show back then. Actually, Doctor Who Magazine has been a great help to me with that, so thank you. The great challenge of the show and this part is to keep it personal, while being respectful to its past.”

So how do you go about making the part of the Doctor your own? Where do you even begin?

“Well,” says Peter, “you begin with yourself. You begin with those elements of yourself that you feel would be at home in that role. There’s an old actors’ adage that you don’t become the role, the role becomes you. It’s trying to find those parts of you that will fit with the Doctor, and understand those bits that don’t come so naturally to you, that you have to fabricate. I kept looking for people in real life who I thought had elements of the Doctor about them and were inspirational in some ways. I composed a list of those.” He won’t reveal who’s on the list. All he’ll say is, “I was trying to stick in ideas about people who would be Doctor-ish and if I could expound on that or deploy any of their tics… I tried to generate a microclimate of Doctor Who creativity. Also, it’s recognising what’s been written. My Doctor is written slightly differently from some of the other Doctors, and the Doctor changes quite dramatically from episode to episode. Some demand more of your comedy chops, graver or more serious episodes demand a more sombre creature. All these variations have to live in the same body, in the same face. Putting all that together is tricky.” He shrugs. “I’m saying all this, it hasn’t gone out yet. I don’t know if it’s worked. It remains to be seen whether or not I’ve been successful.”

Which bits of his Doctor are most like Peter, I ask?

This stumps him at first. He thinks hard for a good 30 seconds, before saying: “Um. Well, I suppose there’s a sort of, uh… there’s a kind of division that happens in the eighteenth century between science and art. Previously science and art had belonged in the same box. Leonardo da Vinci could be a fabulous artist and a fabulous scientist. To me, the Doctor is an artist-slash-scientist. He’s incredibly bright. I don’t think my Doctor would welcome any of those definitions. He’d think they’re quite primitive, from his point of view.”

So how does this new Doctor see himself?

“Good question. I think as a cosmic, timeless philosopher, explorer, adventurer, righter of wrongs, and hopeless piece of flotsam and jetsam. I think he has to be all of those things. I didn’t want him to be in charge as much as perhaps we’ve seen him before. He’s someone who sees great beauty in things, but that can be in stars being born in the outer reaches of the galaxy, or in litter blowing across a supermarket car park at dawn. He finds all of these things beautiful, and I think he should constantly stop and see them. He wants to pursue beautiful things, but he gets shocked into adventures. I think he just wants to range around up there, back there, in the future, looking at it all, enjoying it all, and seeing it all, but he’s constantly drawn into areas of conflict.”

I point out that Peter’s Doctor has a bit of an edge to him – he can seem quite severe at times – but Peter insists, “It’s less him being hard on people; it’s more that he doesn’t understand quite how you talk to human beings. It’s less ‘I don’t suffer fools gladly’; more ‘Oh, they’re quite complex, these human beings. They need to be comforted from time to time.’ He becomes impatient with them. Some of the previous Doctors have been more sensitive to what their companions and other human beings need from him. My Doctor needs them to get up to speed with him. He can’t really be bothered hanging around and making life lovely for them, making them welcome. It doesn’t mean they’re not welcome. A lot of this is in the writing: Steven’s concept of how far you can take the Doctor. I never think my Doctor is unpleasant; he just isn’t great at dealing with humans. He doesn’t mean to be short with them. He just doesn’t quite get it sometimes.”

You’ll know this, but Peter has appeared in Doctor Who before. In 2008, he played Caecilius opposite David Tennant’s Doctor in The Fires of Pompeii. “When I was offered it, I was so excited, I couldn’t actually read the script,” he told DWM earlier this year. “I just wanted to phone my agent and say, ‘Yes!’ But I was persuaded that the professional thing to do would be to read it first. So I did, loved it, and off I went.”

Will we get an explanation for why the new Doctor has Caecilius’ face?

“It’s addressed,” smiles Peter. “Is it Caecilius’ face? Was that man really Caecilius?”

The tease! What else can he tell us about the Doctor’s journey this series. Did Steven tell Peter everything from the start?

“He gave me a very entertaining evening,” chuckles Peter, “when he went through the entire 12 episodes, basically acting them out for me. I said to him he should get a job as a performance artist. He did them all. All the characters. He’s like a chameleon. He told me what was going to happen in the show.”

Was there anything where you thought, ‘That sounds too bonkers’?

“Well, you just go, ‘Uh huh. Yeah. Okay. That sounds…. good luck with that.’ But then it comes to fruition, when you actually see it, it’s amazing. I have great faith in Steven and this amazing crew. I’m always amazed at how they pull it off. Of course, a lot of actors love to know what’s going to happen to their characters well in advance, because they think that allows them to pace their performances. I’ve never really been convinced of that. I operate on a need-to-know basis. If something dramatic’s going to happen, I’d rather that I discovered it when it was happening, not six months beforehand. The actual scripts don’t arrive till maybe a week before the readthrough, which will be a couple of days before we start shooting, and the surprises I like are the smaller ones; the little moments, the asides, the remarks, the experiences, the things that go on in the by-streets of the episodes. Those are the things that delight me.

“What I think sometimes happens with long-running shows,” he continues, “is that you get into a groove. You learn how to do the part in a certain way, and you just keep doing it. But you’ve got to constantly niggle it, probe it, find out those little moments, push it, see how far you can take it. At the same time, the audience switches on to see a certain thing. You’d be disappointed if Tom Baker didn’t at some point produce a jelly baby, or if Jon Pertwee didn’t give a politician or a soldier a withering look. I used to find this with The Thick of It [BBC Four/Two, 2005-2012]. I’d always say ‘Do we have to have Malcolm [Tucker, the aggressive and profane spin doctor that Peter played] come in doing a great, sweary tirade?' And they’d say, ‘Well, yeah, because that’s why people switch on.’ A director the other day told me that another director had suggested, ‘Let’s have a shot of the TARDIS materialising, but let’s not see it materialise,’ and everyone had looked at him in horror. What’s the point of having a show where it happens out of shot? Part of the fun is seeing the TARDIS materialise, the Doctor and Clara step out, and – where are they this time?”

How will he be watching the series when it airs on BBC One this August to November?

“The problem for me is, I’m a Doctor Who fan,” he laughs, “so I can’t not watch Doctor Who. Even if it weren’t me, I’d be watching it. I’d miss not watching it. But yes, that’s an interesting point – I don’t know what I’ll do, to be honest. It is quite difficult to watch yourself. The episodes that I’ve seen, I find that the sticking point of them all is me. That’s what I find the most troublesome, is watching me. But there are wonderful things that happen when suddenly it all comes together, and it becomes Doctor Who, and then you have to remind yourself… you know, when I forget that it’s me, that’s when I enjoy it. One of the key things I’m finding out about it now is that it’s created by all of the efforts of the people working on it, so watching these episodes with me playing the Doctor in them, has been extremely illuminating. They’ve shown me more about who my Doctor is than me sitting in a quiet study trying to figure it all out. So it’s a kind of self-feeding thing, if we’re going in the right direction – and I hope that we are.

“The funny thing is, we’re starting to have these conversations about next year and I’m like ‘There are some amazing things coming along there!’ Steven is telling me, and I’m like, ‘Wow! Yeah!’ So we’re already ahead of the curve on all this. We’ve some great ideas coming for 2015.”

So Peter will be back next year?

“Well, I’d like to be. It’s not up to me. I’ve had a wonderful time doing the show, anybody would, but having a wonderful time is no guarantee that they’re going to keep you there. I’ve loved it, so I’d be very, very happy to carry on, but we’ll have to see. We’re doing a Christmas one. As I say, we’ve discussed 2015. But there’ s no guarantee it’s certainly me. But I hope it is.”

Last summer, when it was announced that Peter had been cast as the Doctor, there was much excitement, some trepidation, and plenty of speculation about how he’d play the part. In March this year, a couple of months into shooting, something wonderful happened: a shaky mobile-phone recording of a touching encounter between Peter and a young fan appeared on YouTube, and went viral – over 180,000 views to date – and reminded us, as if we ever doubted it, that as well as being an excellent actor, Peter was as compassionate as the Doctor himself – without doubt the right man to take on the role.

“This little girl, her parents were concerned that she loved Matt so much and she would genuinely worry that he was gone,” recalls Peter, when I ask him about the video, “and what was going to happen, and how was that going to affect her?”

In the video, we see Peter get down on one knee and gently tell five-year-old Roxann: “Matt was really nice to me, and Jenna was too. They were both very welcoming to me when I came into the TARDIS. Matt said to me to look after Doctor Who, and he gave me his watch that he wears, and he said that in his own way he was happy that it was me who was coming in. So I will do my very best to be as much fun and as friendly as he is. So they say it’s okay for me to be the Doctor. I hope you think it’ll be okay for me to be the Doctor, too.”

‘Even though Roxann wouldn’t look at them or talk, which is due to her autism,’ explained Roxann’s mum in a blog post, ‘she took everything in that was being said to her by Peter. I cannot express how overjoyed and thankful I am.’

“All I could do was to try to show her that both Matt and Jenna had approved of me, and hopefully if they did – and Matt particularly – then she would feel that it might be okay,” Peter tells DWM.

“But you just sort of busk it, really, because you don’t know what people are going to ask you, and you don’t know what people are going to bring to a meeting with you. Certainly when they’re youngsters, they’re so enthusiastic about the show, you’d have to have a very cold heart not to try to make them feel good about it.

“It’s a fairly new experience for me,” he concludes. “it’s difficult, when you’re offered the role, to anticipate what’s going to happen to you. Matt and David have both been very helpful to me in trying to prepare me and talking to me about it, Russel T Davies [former showrunner] has been very supportive too, but I remember from being a fan myself how important the show was to me, so I simply try to be respectful of that, of their affection. I’ve read lots of interviews with all the Doctors, and they often refer to this sort syndrome: people project the Doctor onto you when they meet you, so they’re already smiling. They’re really pleased to see you. That’s a privilege that is rare among human beings, that you get this warm welcome, and you haven’t done anything to deserve that. I am simply playing this part for the time that I have it, and to look after the character of Doctor Who while I’ve got him. Part of that is to be kind, I guess. It’s a fairly privileged position to be in. You get the best of people. That’s wonderful. That’s what this show does you see. I think it’s what it’s always done. It brings out the best in people.

[waiting-eyez]

I was a dumpy teenager. My mum was a model and was all about looks, so I rebelled by going goth. It took me years of peeling back the onion to finally stop using make-up as a mask and feel comfortable in my skin.

(Jennifer Aniston)

[diminuel]

Ace confessing he was thinking about using Edward hit me hard in the feels because yeah, that is on one hand funny and on the other angsty:

🔥: Nearly used your name, glad that I didn't now because that's embarrassing.

WB: no no, please feel free to use it, you're my son now, we can tell everyone Rocks was you being a rebelling teenager

🔥: 😦

But on the other hand I can see that revelation about Crocodile considering him at one point as a father/family bringing up guilt. When going with Rocks D. Crocodile, I headcanon that Whitebeard either assumed him dead and felt guilty about it, or that maybe Big Mom took him because she's big about family/that's a bloodline she would be interested in keeping. Either way, years later Crocodile hunts him down and confronts him about how he claims all these people as his children but abandoned him when he was a literal child that grew up with him, and they fight and Crocodile looses a hand due to that tho I think that would be either an accident or because of other circumstances surrounding the situation (I read a story once in which he lost his hand because he tied himself to something so he wouldn't drown but consequently killed the blood flow after leaving the Moby). Ace being on the Moby could maybe lead to him tentatively seeking out Croc again to see if they can finally reconcile or at least find some closure.

And yeah, Marineford is really weird when you get more information later on, like Sengoku is confirmed to have cared for Rosinante so it's weird that he should care that much about parentage with Ace. I think the WG basically forced the Marine's hand and ordered the public execution to eradicate the Roger bloodline and display their might while also hoping to get rid of WB. And they had to announce Ace's parentage because they needed a reason for this kind of spectacle, especially when we see who else just gets thrown into Impel Down, executions in the One Piece world seem kinda rare, either the criminals die before they're caught, they end up in Impel Down, or the WG just Buster Calls everything but executions by the Marines? Can't remember any besides Roger's and Ace's.

There's a lot of potential to give Crocodile a sad/ traumatic backstory when it gets to his loss to Whitebeard. I like pretty much everything! No idea what I'd go for (though in my Rocks D. Crocodile post I suggested that Crocodile reached out once for help but WB denied him - it would still fit in with Croc's potential rage that WB takes on everyone needing help, a home, a family. Everyone but him.)

And a Whitebeard and Crocodile reconciliation via Ace does sound very nice ;w;

Yeah, Marineford was a trap for WB and a display of their might but it seemed like a pretty foolish decision on the Marine's side because so many things could have gone wrong. And since it was broadcast - but only selectively (they conveniently cut out the parts of it that would show the marine's less than savory actions), they clearly wanted to tell a particular narrative. Still. Hmm. *squints at Sengoku*

[neptunemooon]

A Night In Paris

Lollapalooza in Paris was an electrifying experience. The air buzzed with the energy of thousands of fans, and the performances had left everyone breathless. The adrenaline was still coursing through Ruby’s veins as she walked off the stage, her heart pounding in sync with the lingering echoes of the final notes. The performance had been electrifying, the crowd's energy fueling her every move. Now, as she made her way toward her dressing room, her body ached for rest, but the excitement of the night still buzzed in her chest.

As she turned the corner, she was startled to find Felix leaning casually against the wall outside her dressing room. His signature warm smile appeared the moment their eyes met, and she felt an unexpected flutter in her chest.

"Hey," Felix greeted, a soft smile playing on his lips as he took in Ruby’s post-performance glow.

"Hey, Felix!" Ruby beamed, still catching her breath.

"You were amazing out there," Felix said, pushing himself off the wall. "I mean, not that I had any doubts. But wow, Ruby—your energy, your voice, the whole performance��it was insane."

Ruby felt warmth creep up her neck at the compliment. "Oh, stop," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "But seriously, thanks for staying to watch. It means a lot."

"I had to see it for myself. And I’m really glad I did."

There was a comfortable silence between them, the noise of the staff and crew moving around them fading into the background.

Felix shifted slightly before asking, "So, what are you doing after this?"

"Oh, I was planning to go out for dinner with my team," Ruby replied. Just as she said it, a voice piped up behind her.

"Why don’t you two go and have dinner together instead?"

Ruby spun around to find Hyun standing there with a mischievous grin. Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to protest, but before she could say anything, Hyun patted her on the shoulder. "You deserve a break, and you two should catch up and get to know each other more. The team will be cool with it."

Felix chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, if you don’t mind… I'd love to take you to dinner."

Ruby glanced at Hyun, who winked at her before walking off. Turning back to Felix, she hesitated only for a moment before nodding. "Alright, let’s go."

The restaurant they chose was tucked away in a quieter part of the city, a cozy place with dim lighting and a soft jazz melody playing in the background. Felix pulled out a chair for Ruby before taking his seat across from her. The atmosphere was warm, intimate, and oddly comforting.

"So," Felix began after they placed their orders, resting his chin on his hand, "tell me something I don’t know about you."

Ruby laughed, absentmindedly tracing the rim of her water glass. "Hmm… that’s a tough one. Well, did you know that the reason I hate the color pink is because my mom used to dress me in nothing but pink when I was growing up?"

Felix's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "No way. Really?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Until I was about five, my mom wouldn’t let me wear any other color. Everything—my clothes, my accessories, even my room—was pink. So, the moment I started dressing myself, I rebelled and mostly wore black, red, white, and blue. My mom wasn’t thrilled about it, but she understood that I needed to find my own style."

"That’s interesting... Did your dad influence your style too?"

Ruby smiled. "Yeah, he did. My dad is actually the reason I love gothic, rock-inspired fashion. We kind of dress alike—it’s funny. There’s even this picture of him as a teenager wearing a full rock outfit, and then there's a picture of me in my freshman year wearing almost the exact same thing. I had no idea that picture of him even existed! I just found those clothes in our attic, and I’ve always loved making my parents’ old clothes trendy again. When my parents saw me in that outfit, my dad totally freaked out—he couldn’t believe I had unknowingly recreated his teenage look."

Felix smiles. "That's a nice coincidence."

Their conversation flowed naturally as they found more things they had in common. When the food arrived, they talked about their childhoods, their favorite pastimes, and even their favorite video games.

"Wait, wait, wait," Felix said, setting down his chopsticks. "You play video games too?"

Ruby grinned. "Of course! I love them. What do you play?"

"Mostly RPGs and platformers. And I love multiplayer games. But tell me, have you ever played Mario Kart?"

Ruby gasped dramatically. "Are you challenging me right now? Because I am unbeatable."

Felix chuckled. "Oh, now I have to play against you. I need to see if that’s true."

"Be prepared for disappointment," she teased, taking a sip of her drink.

They laughed, and the conversation turned to their families. Ruby told him about her siblings and the chaos of growing up with three brothers. Felix shared stories about his family back in Australia, his love for his siblings, and how much he missed home sometimes.

"I call them as often as I can," Felix said, a fond smile on his face. "But it’s hard being so far away."

Ruby nodded in understanding. "Yeah… I feel the same way. But at least we have people around us that feel like family."

Felix looked at her thoughtfully. "Yeah, exactly."

There was a pause, a comfortable silence where they simply enjoyed each other’s presence. The restaurant’s soft lighting made his features even more striking, and Ruby felt her heart beat a little faster as she realized how easy it was to talk to him.

"In case I didn't mention it before, you looked really cool up there," Felix said at one point, his voice soft and sincere.

Ruby smiled, stirring her drink absentmindedly. "Thanks. You did too. I love the energy you bring on stage."

Felix chuckled. "I try. But watching you perform was something else. You have this... presence."

Ruby felt her heart flutter at his words. "You’re really sweet, Felix."

Felix grinned, his freckles glowing under the dim lighting. "Only for people who deserve it."

The crisp Parisian air wrapped around Ruby and Felix as they strolled down a cobblestone street, the Eiffel Tower's golden glow casting a dreamy ambiance over the city. Their dinner had been wonderful, filled with laughter, stolen glances, and conversations that felt as natural as breathing. Just when Ruby thought the evening couldn’t get any better, Felix turned to her with a twinkle in his eye.

“Let’s get dessert,” he suggested, his voice warm with excitement.

Ruby’s eyes lit up instantly. “Yes! That sounds perfect.”

A few minutes later, they arrived at a charming little café tucked away in a quiet corner of Paris. The exterior was adorned with fairy lights, and through the large glass window, the soft glow of candles and the scent of freshly baked pastries filled the air. The bell above the door chimed as they stepped inside, greeted by the sight of delicate tarts, creamy éclairs, and beautifully decorated cakes lined up in the display case.

Ruby clapped her hands together, practically bouncing on her feet. “There are so many delicious desserts!” she exclaimed, eyes darting over the colorful array in front of her.

Felix chuckled at her enthusiasm, the corners of his lips tugging into a soft smile. “What would you like to eat?” he asked, his gaze gentle as he watched her.

Ruby scanned the options before pointing at a decadent-looking strawberry mille-feuille. “Let’s eat this!” she said cheerfully.

Felix nodded in agreement and walked over to the counter. To Ruby’s surprise, he started ordering fluently in French, his accent smooth and confident. She stared at him, completely taken aback and undeniably touched. Watching him order for her, his voice effortlessly wrapping around the foreign words, made her heart swell with admiration.

Just as the cashier totaled the bill, Ruby instinctively reached for her card, but before she could hand it over, Felix smoothly placed his own card down instead.

“Oh no, you paid for dinner! Let me pay this time—it’s my turn,” Ruby protested, pouting slightly as she looked up at him.

Felix shook his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “It’s okay. A gentleman should always take care of a lady,” he said in a tone that was both romantic and sincere.

Ruby felt her heart flutter at his words, warmth blooming in her chest. She wasn’t used to someone being so effortlessly considerate, and it made her feel incredibly special.

After a few moments, Felix returned to her side, carrying a tray with their desserts and a small pot of tea. He led her to a cozy corner of the café where a candle flickered softly on the table. Carefully, he set the tray down before taking a seat across from her.

“Thank you for the food,” Ruby said sweetly, a grateful smile on her lips. “What should I try first?”

Felix grinned. “I’ll serve you some,” he offered, picking up a fork and carefully cutting a piece of the mille-feuille. He held it out to her, his eyes expectant.

As Ruby accepted the bite, her eyes widened in delight. “This is so good!” she exclaimed, savoring the rich, creamy layers.

But just a second later, she let out a sigh. “I should be dieting…” she mumbled under her breath.

Felix’s expression immediately shifted as he shook his head firmly. Noticing his reaction, Ruby tilted her head curiously. “You don’t think I should lose any more weight?” she asked.

Felix’s gaze softened as he looked at her, his voice gentle yet firm. “Girls shouldn’t be too skinny. You’re perfect the way you're.”

His words sent a rush of warmth through Ruby, her cheeks tingling with a shy blush. She couldn’t help but smile, her heart feeling light and full. She picked up her fork and took another bite, this time with no hesitation, enjoying the dessert without a second thought.

Felix watched her with a fond expression, a silent sense of satisfaction settling over him. Seeing her happy, knowing he could make her feel comfortable and cherished, was more than enough for him.

When they finished with their dessert, they knew it was time to head back to the hotel. Felix insisted on walking Ruby back to her hotel. The night air was crisp, and as they strolled down the quiet streets, their steps naturally fell into sync.

"I had a really great time tonight," Ruby admitted softly.

"Me too," Felix said, looking at her with a gentle smile. "We should do this again."

She looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his voice. "Yeah… I’d like that."

They reached her hotel entrance, and Felix turned to face her fully. "Get some rest, okay? You worked really hard today."

"I will. Thanks for tonight, Felix."

He hesitated for a moment before reaching out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Goodnight, Ruby."

Her breath caught slightly, and before she could overthink it, she gave him a small smile. "Goodnight, Felix."

As she stepped inside, she couldn't stop the warmth spreading through her chest. That night, as she lay in bed, she found herself smiling at the memory of the evening, wondering when she’d get to see him again.

[oryou-condred]

i think riddle would enjoy twisted katy perry. like he would stumble upon her music when he is 12 and he would know his mother would fucking hate him hearing this shit because oh my god she is talking about SEX and DANGEROUS SEX so he has to learn how to delete his browser history and all but he gets so happy looking at twisted California Girls (sunshine land girls in twst) because i do also think deep down riddle was a regular 12 year old boy and when she shoots the icing from her tits he would giggle like craaazy but he would not stop watching it at all and then someday his mom catches him and she yells at him so much because oh my god you are listening to GARBAGE that is ROTTING YOUR BRAIN and also she wouldnt say it but she would be lowkey disappointed he didnt even pick a top tier girl like kesha to be a rebel about its fucking twisted katy perry and a shit tier song too like twisted california girls and not even twisted last friday night so she has to yell at him double the amount she usually would and poor little riddle is crying and feeling so guilty so he listens to twisted teenage dream and cries so so hard at the idea of running away with someone he loves anyway timeskip riddle still secretly loves twisted katy perry and he finally gets comfortable enough with ehhh lets say floyd to reveal his love and floyd just goes "lol she is so mid tho" and riddle explodes. because how dare someone say shit about twisted katy perry. riddle rosehearts favorite singer

[honey-crypt]

Imagine Elliott with a tattoo. Or a piercing that he got when he was a teenager.

Imagine this:

The farmer discovers Elliott's tongue piercing.

a/n: OK OK OK I KNOW THAT I SAID I WAS FOCUSING ON REQUESTS FOR MY WRITE-A-THON BUT I POSTED THE ONE FOR TODAY AND THIS MAKES MY BRAIN GO AWOOGA SOOOOO UHHH ENJOY :D (part of this refers this post of mine about elliott and his family)

warnings: elliott comitting identity fraud, suggestive ending

★ tongue tied - elliott x farmer ★

★ you would think a sweet, eloquent guy like elliott would have been a golden child growing up

★ WELL YOU'RE WRONG!!!!!!!!!!!!

★ baby boy was a rebel, especially in his late teens

★ bro despised his parents' efforts to maintain a high-end image so he did what any rebellious teen would do: get pierced and tatted at a young, impressionable age

★ elliott had two piercings on each ear lobe, it took months of begging before his parents finally let him do it, so he was sure that getting a body piercing would be the same, right?

★ after getting a fake ID, elliott got into a piercing and tattooing shop without issue and stupidly requested to be pierced AND tatted at the same time

★ the shop owner wanted to deny his request but after being flashed a nice wad of cash, he agreed to it

★ after an hour of so of pain and regret, elliott walked out of the shop with a sore tongue and a pretty dove inked on his collar bone

★ fast forward to almost a decade later, elliott lives with both that tongue piercing and dove tattoo but has since obtained a half sleeve on his upper left arm of classical literary images

★ no one in town is really aware that elliott has tattoos or body piercings, he always wears long sleeves and the tongue piercing isn't noticeable unless you're directly peering into his mouth

★ now this is when you come in, quickly wooing the up and coming author with a basket of pomegranates and cheesy jokes, your whimsy and bright light sparking a flame in elliott's heart

★ he took you on a boat ride a few months after you moved into the valley, the old rowboat by his cabin finally repaired, hoping to confess his feelings in a private but beautiful setting

★ unfortunately, things don't go as planned, as you accidentally fall off the boat and into the chilly sea

★ elliott immediately dives in and pulls you out of the water, helping you back on the boat

★ the two of you share a laugh, as elliott removes his red overcoat from his body, his white dress shirt soaked and clinging to his skin

★ you could make his arm sleeve and collar tattoo, your face heating up at the sight; you didn't realize that elliott was into tattoos

★ he sees your flustered face and asks if you're okay, to which you ask him when he got his tattoos

★ "oh, it was years before i moved to town, my dear. my time as a teenage rebel and such."

★ elliott??? a rebel??? HOT

★ you manage to cool your face off just in time to ask elliott why he wanted you on the boat with him

★ baby boy uncharacteristically stumbles through his words, at one point you thought he didn't want to be friends with you anymore, and sighs in defeat before asking if he can show you what he wants from you

★ you nod and elliott leans forward, both your foreheads touching lightly against the other

★ "can i kiss you?" he whispers, cheeks as red as his hair

★ "yes" is your answer and he kisses you, his lips tasting of rich juicy pomegranates; you soon pull elliott closer to your body and deepen the kiss

★ the kiss goes from close-mouthed to open-mouthed, as the two of you make out

★ your tongue touches his and you pause, breaking the kiss

★ "you have a tongue piercing TOO?!"

★ elliott opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue, revealing the gold metal ball, "another token of my rebellion, my love."

★ you french kiss him once more, running the tip of your tongue against his piercing, and pull back to reply, "i like uncovering these little surprises, elliott"

★ elliott can't help but blush and raise his eyebrows at you, "you do?"

★ you nod and peck him on the lips, "i can't wait to... uncover more"

[onegayastronaut]

Through the Fire

Requested by anon: Marina x daughter!reader with problematic behaviour at school, low grades, skipping classes, underage drinking…classic teenage rebellion stuff. (I way past my teenage years, but i never rebelled for real [i was a fucking shy nerd]…i like reading these kind of stuff)

Words: 1118

Maya slams the door to the firehouse office shut, exhaling sharply. She is used to high-pressure situations—flames licking at her boots, rescuing people from burning buildings—but nothing terrifies her more than the voicemail she has just listened to.

"Hey, it's Ms. Thompson. I really need to speak with you and Carina about Y/N's recent behavior. She’s been skipping class, her grades are plummeting, and today, we caught her with alcohol in her locker. We need to have a meeting. Please call me back."

Maya scrubs a hand down her face. This isn't the first time she’s gotten a call from the school about you. In the past few months, their once well-behaved daughter has turned into someone neither she nor Carina recognizes. Maya has always known teenagers are difficult, but this? This feels like a wildfire out of control.

The thought of telling Carina makes her stomach churn. Her wife is usually the more understanding one, the softer presence between them, but your recent behavior has put a strain on them both. Carina came to the U.S. ready to build a family with Maya, and for years, they had been happy. But now…

Maya grabs her phone and dials home.

"Maya?" Carina answers, her voice warm but laced with exhaustion.

"We need to talk about Y/N."

A pause. "What happened now?"

Maya sighs. "I'll explain when I get home."

The moment Maya walks through the front door, tension hangs thick in the air. You sit slouched on the couch, scrolling through your phone as if you haven’t a care in the world. Carina stands in the kitchen, arms crossed, brows furrowed, worry etched into every line of her face.

"Put the phone down," Maya orders, her voice sharp.

You don’t even glance up. "Chill. I’m just—"

"Now."

You huff but obey, setting your phone aside with an exaggerated eye roll. You stare at them both with boredom, like you have better places to be.

Maya sits across from you, trying to keep her anger in check. "We got a call from your school today. Again."

Carina steps in, her voice softer but firm. "Skipping classes? Drinking? Tesoro, what is going on with you?"

You shrug, your expression unreadable. "It's not a big deal."

Maya lets out a humorless laugh. "Not a big deal? Do you have any idea what could happen if you keep going down this path? You want to fail out of school? Get arrested?"

"Oh my God, you’re so dramatic," you mutter, crossing your arms.

Carina runs a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply. "We are trying to understand. This is not like you, Y/N."

You scoff. "Maybe this is who I am now."

Maya’s patience snaps. "Cut the attitude. We’re trying to help you, but you have to want help."

You stand suddenly, eyes flashing. "Maybe I don’t want help! Maybe I don’t need two overbearing moms breathing down my neck every second!"

Carina flinches, hurt flashing across her face. Maya clenches her jaw, her grip tightening on the armrest of the chair. "You don’t get to talk to us like that."

"Or what?" you challenge. "You gonna ground me? Take my phone? Guess what? I don’t care!"

Silence fills the room, heavy and suffocating. Maya exchanges a look with Carina, who looks like she is barely holding it together.

"Go to your room," Maya finally says, voice cold and firm. "Now."

You roll your eyes but stomp up the stairs, slamming the door behind you with enough force to rattle the picture frames on the wall.

As soon as you’re gone, Carina collapses onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. "Maya…what are we going to do?"

Maya sits beside her, rubbing slow circles on her back. "We don’t give up on her. That’s what."

Carina looks up, tears brimming in her eyes. "But how do we reach her?"

Maya takes a deep breath. "We keep trying. No matter what."

Days pass, and you remain distant, avoiding them at every turn. Maya and Carina try everything—talking, listening, even offering therapy—but you refuse it all. It isn’t until one fateful night that everything comes crashing down.

It’s past midnight when the phone rings. Carina answers groggily, only to sit bolt upright at the words on the other end.

"This is Officer Ramirez with the Seattle Police Department. We have your daughter in custody."

Maya, overhearing, is out of bed in an instant. "What happened?"

Carina swallows hard. "She got caught drinking at a party. The police brought her in."

Within minutes, they are at the station. You sit on a bench, arms crossed, looking more annoyed than remorseful.

Maya signs the paperwork, barely containing her fury. Once they are outside, she turns to you. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You could have gotten arrested for real! You could have—"

"Oh my God, I’m fine!" you shoot back. "Can you stop treating me like a child?"

"Then stop acting like one!" Maya snaps.

Carina steps in, voice exhausted. "Enough. Let's go home."

At home, you sit stiffly on the couch as your moms pace in front of you.

"Talk to us, tesoro," Carina says gently. "This isn’t just ‘teen rebellion.’ This is you crying out for something. Tell us what it is."

For the first time, you look conflicted. Your bravado cracks. "You wouldn’t get it."

"Try us," Maya says, softer now.

You hesitate. "I just...I feel like I can’t do anything right. I suck at school, I’m not as perfect as you want me to be. So what’s the point in trying?"

Maya and Carina exchange pained looks.

"Oh, tesoro," Carina whispers, reaching out. "We don’t need you to be perfect. We just need you to be okay."

Your lip trembles. "I don’t know how to be that."

Maya kneels in front of you. "Then let us help. No more shutting us out. No more running."

You swallow hard, then, finally, nod.

And for the first time in a long time, there is hope.

Over the next few weeks, things don’t magically become perfect, but small changes begin to take root. Therapy is a struggle at first, but with time, you start opening up. Carina spends more time talking with you about how you feel, while Maya finds herself learning to balance discipline with understanding. There are still arguments, still moments where you lash out, but little by little, the walls you built start to crumble.

One evening, as you sit with them watching a movie, Carina places a gentle hand on yours. "We love you, tesoro. No matter what."

You don’t respond right away, but after a moment, you squeeze her hand back.

[another-random-paradise]

Hiii! I saw ur account is open to Twisted Wonderland requests and I do hope I can make one request!

Maybe a request for Mozus Trein with an S/O(ofc they’re the same age as him) that is shy and timid but was once an outgoing teenager when they were young and how the two bond now that they’re seeing each other again with both of them knowing that both of them obviously had a crush on one another since teens but separated due to familial circumstances(def didn’t inspire this by an oc of mine, hahahahahaaa-)

Thank you so much for the request!! and yeahh, many of my ideas are based of OC's- Since you didn't specify, I decided to write this as a short fic, since i've been wanting to write one for quite a while now, i hope that's okay!! (tbh I'm so used to writing headcanons, that if you really want to, you can also read this as headcanons) Hope you enjoy :) Also, i refuse to take Treins girl dad privilege's so i simply turned his marriage into an arranged one-

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

Trein and Childhood crush!Reader reconnecting after years apart

Characters: Mozus Trein

Format: Short Fic (972 words)

Warnings: None that i can think of

Trein was rummaging through some old stuff, with his wife's death a few years ago, he decided to declutter, when he stumbled upon an old box. An old box, filled with memories of his time as a teenager. Many of them included pictures of the two of you, how could they not, when he used to spend most of his time wishing he could spend every waking moment with you. Trein has always been an orderly person, perhaps that's why he loved you, you and your outgoing personality, never shying away from anything. If he was completely honest, he still does, and there is nothing he regrets more, than not marrying you.

He still remembers the day like it was yesterday, when his parents told him he was to be married, to a woman he didn't even know, once they were both eighteen, how it broke his heart. Of course, it had to be the same day he planned to finally confess to you. So, when you met him at your favorite spot, instead of a carefully planned speech about his feeling, one he knows he would have messed up anyways at the sight of your smile, he blurted out that he's engaged. He had never felt more pain, than as he watched your heart break, seeing the pain in your eyes. He only wishes that you were able to see how it hurt him too. And the two of you coming from a generation before phones existed made it hard to stay connected, so, in the end you lost sight of each other. Oh, how he wished he could have rebelled against his parents, he still wishes he did, but he always followed the rules his parents set, believing they only wanted the best for him, so how was he supposed to just stop? He is truly happy with his life, there is nothing he loves more than his daughters, and yet to this day, you have never left his heart. To this day, it wishes it were you with who he lived this life.

And it seems that his wishes were heard for once, as the doorbell rings. He is confused at first, the person at the door seems familiar to him, he just can't quite pin point it, at least not until the familiar stranger speaks-

"Long time no see, Mozus"

No matter how much you've changed over the years, the way you speak his name as you smile at him is something that remained the same, something that he could never forget. He invited you inside, the shock of seeing you so long painted clearly on his face. The two of you sit down at the coffee table, as he hands you your drink. He has many questions, and he can only assume you do too. It doesn't take long before you two are talking as openly as you did when you were younger, reminiscing about the older days, discussing what each of you did during your time apart; he tells much about his lovely daughters, talking about each of them as if they're a piece of art, before asking what you did during your time away. He noticed rather quickly that you spoke much quieter than when you were young, holding yourself back during stories instead of making them as big as can be, where he wouldn't have gotten a word in when you were young, he was now leading the conversation. But he couldn't say that he minded, it was only normal to change with age, and he's afraid his aged body wouldn't be able to handle the adventures attitude you had as a child; the change is welcomed with open arms, just as you welcomed everything that changed about him. The conversation lasts well into the night, it is already dark out when the two of you finally become tired. Being the gentleman that he is, and always was, he invites you to stay the night, perhaps even a few more if you have travelled from afar to meet him. As he goes to sleep, he feels a warmth he hasn't felt in years.

It was an early morning, when the sound of meows awoke you. It seems it didn't take long for Lucius to warm up to you either, as the tuxedo cat lets you pet him, albeit only for a few minutes, before elegantly walking of to eat breakfast. Deciding to follow suit, you get dressed and make your way to the kitchen. When you arrive, Trein is already making breakfast, wishing you a good morning, before returning his attention to the eggs. He is already dressed to a tee, you can only imagine how early he woke up. You decide to help him, carrying the finished food to the table, as you started to properly wake up. "Didn't you say you work at a college? don't you have to go to work soon?" you ask as you both sit down at the table. "Luckily, you visited me during the holidays, I have three more weeks before i need to return to work." He responded, a smile on his face. Very quickly the two of you made plans for these weeks, to reconnect.

And reconnect you did. Your plans very quickly turned into dates, as the two of you realize that neither of you ever got over your feelings. You finally do all, or rather all the things that you can do at your age, that you wanted to do as teenagers. Eventually, you even meet his daughters, who luckily seem to like you. They know their parents marriage was arranged, and seeing their father happy with you, makes them happy.

It may have taken many, many years of longing, but it seems that, in the end, fate still had a happy ending in mind for the two of you.

Very fun to write, very happy that i finally had the chance to try and write a proper fic!!

Feedback is welcomed, just be nice please :)

Hope you have a nice day/night!

[muses-of-the-memory]

Happy 22nd Anniversary, Kids Next Door!

Today marks the 22nd Anniversary to...

Codename: Kids Next Door!

This childhood show I watched growing up taught me how to rebel, stand up and fight against some teens and adults, but not always. Anyway, it has been 22 years since we had seen our five members of Sector V;

Nigel Uno (Numbuh One),

Hoagie Gilligan (Numbuh Two),

Kuki Sanban (Numbuh Three),

Wallabee Beetles (Numbuh Four),

and Abigail Lincoln (Numbuh Five) come together as a team against evil adult tyranny and teenagers, such as Cree Lincoln aka Numbuh 11, Count Spankulot, Grandma Stuffum, Knightbrace, The Common Cold, Stickybeard, Mr, Boss,

the Delightful Children From Down the Lane aka Sector Z and... Benedict Uno Jr. aka

Father!

We must all remember the awesome, and funny times that the Kids Next Door brought to our lives, the origins from Operation Z.E.R.O. (Zero Explanation Reveals Origins) and the finale where Numbuh One left to join the Galactic KND.

Also, this show is where I got the headcanon idea of me being Nigel Uno's successor when he left to join the Galactic Kids Next Door. For my team, I had "The" Tommy slash Numbuh "T" to act as the new Numbuh 2 in place of his big brother, Mushi Sanban for "Numbuh 3" taking Kuki's place, Lucas as the new Numbuh 4, and Cree Lincoln to continue as "Numbuh 5", albeit she aged as a teenager, having knowledge of the Teens Next Door and possibly the Adults Next Door.

So, I will roleplaying as the main cast of Codename: Kids Next Door for today.

Tagged by: @hoshi-neko-hikari, @bluemajingirl, @the-world-hopper, @paragonsoflight, @spirits-of-nature16

[ghostfacd]

I’M HERE, I’M THERE, I’M EVERYWHERE | LUKE HUGHES

synopsis: in which capitol mentor luke hughes, falls inlove with his tribute, yn dubois.

song recommendation: can’t catch me now by olivia rodrigo

author’s note: in honor of the ballad of the songbirds coming out in the next 2 weeks and olivia’s amazing song, here is my favorite person (lukey warren hughes) in one of my favorite fictional books ever, the hunger games! this was so fun to write, and as always, enjoy <3

It was in the early years of the Hunger Games, where students at the academy in the Capitol were still allowed to train the incoming tributes from the district. Luke Hughes, a teenage boy who had been born and raised in the Capitol had finally achieved his lifelong dream; to mentor the awaiting tributes for the 6th Annual Hunger Games.

His best friend, Kelsey Ivies, shared his excitement, for they had both aspired to this role since they were kids. In their eyes, the Hunger Games were necessary, a punishment for the districts that had once rebelled, which had resulted in not only the loss of many lives in the District, but also in the Capitol. Luke’s grandfather was one of the victims, and he remembered how his father used to tell him when he was younger.

He hated the districts, they were like salt to a wound.

Luke's heart raced as he stepped into the training center, knowing that he was about to meet the tribute he'd be responsible for, a girl from District 2. His breath hitched as he laid eyes on her for the first time, shocked by her beauty.

“I’m Luke,” he says, placing out a hand for her to exchange. He’d never seen a district girl in his life, and it gave him a sense of adrenaline.

“I’m Y/N,” she says, her eyes felt like they were piercing through Luke’s insides. “Y/N Dubois from District 2.”

Over the weeks leading up to the Games, Luke and Y/N spent countless hours together, training and getting to know each other. He taught her how to differentiate berries, for some of them were poisonous in the arena. He had rewatched every single hunger games leading up to the one now, for he wanted to be the best mentor in his academy. He wanted to make his father proud, so that meant he had to make sure Y/N would come out the winner.

While they were practicing Y/N's swimming skills in a secluded lake, she playfully extended her arm out to him.

“Hey Luke,” she says, her smile loosely hanging on her lips.

He quirked his eyebrows, but nonetheless held her hand. He liked how it felt, anyway.

Suddenly, the girl yanked him into the water, making him let out a shriek of surprise, causing her to laugh hysterically. For the first time, Luke was able to see Y/N not as a tribute, but as a girl who he was falling in love with.

The following night, Luke managed to sneak Y/N out from the tribute cages, holding her hand tightly as the both tried not to giggle to loudly. The sky was clear and starry, and the two found themselves on the rooftop of a building, laying side by side. Luke’s hand brushed against Y/N’s as they gazed up at the night sky, away from the chaos and expectations that weighed on both of their shoulders. The stars above seemed to twinkle knowingly, as if they held secrets of their own.

Luke, who was normally reserved and didn’t talk much about his personal life, decided to open up to Y/N. If she were to die in the games anyways, it wouldn’t matter what she knew. His voice trembled as he spoke, "Y/N, there's something I've never told anyone before." He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "My father, he's always expected me to be the best mentor, to uphold the Capitol's values and ideals. But it's suffocating, you know? The pressure, the constant scrutiny. He made me feel like I was never enough."

Y/N turned to him, her eyes filled with understanding and empathy. She took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I can imagine how tough that must be, Luke."

Tears welled up in Luke's eyes as he continued, "I've always felt like I was living in his shadow. But being here with you, it's the first time I've felt like I could be myself. I don't have to pretend, and I don't have to meet anyone's expectations. For the first time, I feel free."

Y/N smiled warmly and leaned her head on Luke's shoulder. "I love you Luke."

He knew he couldn’t say it back, he couldn’t. He was from the Capitol, and she was merely a tribute. He could feel her stiffen beside him when she’s responded back with silence. He only wrapped his arm around her frame, pulling her in.

As the Games drew nearer, Kelsey noticed how Luke had become increasingly anxious and distraught.

She scoffed. “What, don’t tell me you’re falling inlove with her?”

Luke’s lips form a thin line, “why does it matter Kels?”

“Because it’s pathetic Luke.” The brunette girl laughs. “I mean, cmon, a mentor falling inlove with his tribute?”

Luke didn’t expect for his best friend to be so outright bitchy. “What game are you playing at Kelsey?” He grunts out.

“Nothing,” Kelsey shrugs. “But you’re playing a dangerous game here, Hughes.”

However, the unexpected had happened. A rebellion began to form among the tributes a day before the games were set to start.

Luke panicked, his eyes moving in a fast motion as he searched for the one person that mattered. Y/N, his Y/N.

He was shocked to find her in the crowd, along with the other rebelling tributes. When the peacekeepers start firing, Y/N, filled with fear and anger, made a run into the nearby woods, and Luke, driven by an need to go after her, followed.

Unbeknownst to Luke, Kelsey had watched this with her calculated eyes. Positioning a peacekeeper gun around her shoulders, she made her way into the woods after the pair.

When they caught up to Y/N, Luke was overwhelmed with emotions. "Y/N, you weren't supposed to rebel," he said with a mixture of anger and desperation.

Y/N, eyes bloodshot, stood baffled, looking him in the eyes. "The Games are evil, Luke. Evil. And you’ve just been brainwashed into thinking they're necessary.”

Kelsey, who had been lurking behind them, saw an opportunity waiting to be used. She sneered and positioned the gun in her hand, ready to put an end to the rebellion and silence the tribute that had been bringing her annoyance since her arrival at the Capitol. But before she could pull the trigger, a idea flashed in her mind. She thrust the gun into Luke's trembling hands, knowing this was going to make it all more satisfying.

"Shoot her, Luke," Kelsey hissed. "Or I'll rat you out for treason, and you’ll die with her.”

Luke was trapped. He felt like he couldn’t move, and his heart ached as he stared at Y/N, the girl he had come to love despite everything he had once stood for. With tears in his eyes, he reluctantly obeyed Kelsey's command and aimed the gun at Y/N.

Her eyes, now falling with tears had practically begged silently with his to not do it.

“Luke, Luke.” Y/N begs, “what happened to our swimming practices? Don’t you remember what you said to me that one night on the roof? Did it mean nothing, Luke?”

Tears streamed down Luke's face as his hands shook with the gun in them.

Kelsey puffs in annoyance, elbowing Luke harshly on the side. “Well? Are you gonna do it? Or do I have to shoot both of you?”

Luke closed his eyes as he pulled the trigger, and he watched the girl he once loved crumble to the floor, eyes that leaked tears earlier now remain lifeless.

She’s dead, and it was all his fault.

- - -

Luke suddenly woke up in a cold sweat, his body shoot up his bed.

He had been experiencing the same dreams of him shooting Y/N, only each time, it showed a new detail, one that struck every corner of his heart.

“Are you okay?” Luke’s mom had awoken from a loud sound in Luke’s room. She placed her hand on his forehead and frowned. “What happened?”

“I’m fine..” he says, although it seemed like he was reassuring himself more than he was her.

“You can’t bottle up your feelings forever.” She sighs, but she leaves him alone, thankfully.

He swears he sees her everywhere. In his dreams, in random people he sees at his academy. She’s everywhere, even in the meadow grass, or in the corner of his eyes.

Her face of betrayal never leaves Luke’s mind, staying ingrained like a portrait.

- - -

Years have passed since everything had occurred, and although Luke’s heart felt like it was ripped in two, he forced the memory of Y/N into the deepest parts of his brain, wanting to erase every memory of her.

He ended up marrying Kelsey, whom he had 2 kids with. Two boys named Hermes and Lucretius.

One evening as the family gathered to watch the latest Games on their holographic screens, Hermes and Lucretius were jumping in their seats with excitement.

“Mama! One day, me and Hermes will get to mentor a tribute too, right?” Lucretius says excitedly, holding onto Kelsey’s hand.

“Isn’t that right dad? Me and Lucre will be mentors!”

Luke and Kelsey exchanged a knowing glance. The memory of Y/N, flashed through Luke's mind for the first time in years, felt like a painful echo from the past. The ache in his heart remained.

Kelsey placed a reassuring hand on Luke's shoulder, “You know, it’s a pretty big position, takes a lot of responsibility," she said, trying to explain the weight of the role to their children.

Their youngest son, Hermes, looked at Luke with wide eyes, "Dad, did you ever mentor someone?"

Luke hesitated for a moment, his gaze distant. Finally, he replied, "Yes, I did once. I attended the same academy you guys are attending.”

Lucretius, always having been curious, continued, "What was it like, Dad? Was it fun? Did your tribute win?”

A heavy silence hung in the room as Luke reflected on the question. Kelsey squeezed his shoulder, before getting up to bring the dishes to the sink.

“I did my best, but sometimes, things don’t go as planned.”

Their children, oblivious to the hurt behind their father’s words continued to chat excitedly about the Games. But in that moment, as they watched the televised games, Luke’s brain couldn't help itself but revisit the past, his heart heavy with the memory of Y/N, and the lingering question of what could have been if he had chosen differently.

[bernardsbendystraws]

You Don’t Own Me

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: sexual tension, teasing

A/N: KARMAS A BITCH I SHOULDA KNOWN BETTER

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

P10: Karma

Guilt floods my stomach as I listen to Matt ramble about Mia. They’d gone on another date—alone this time. I still hadn’t talked to Shawn since that day, but I don’t know if I really want to. What is there to even say? 

“-are you even listening?”

My eyes widen from Matt’s question. I nod quickly, pinching my thigh as I try to concentrate. He starts to yap again, his elbows propped on the table as he sits across from me. 

“-and then we went to her place and I got to meet her dog! And her dog even likes me so…” His words ring through my ears, passing through my brain without an actual thought of comprehending what he’s saying. 

It’s hard to focus. Especially when my stomach feels like it’s doing flips. I know Chris will be home any second. It’s been about a couple days since he held me—-when he held me consciously for once. 

And I know some things have changed, I just don’t know if I’m ready for it. 

“Okay—are you good?” Matt asks, crossing his hands together as he leans over the table. He stares up into my eyes. 

I feel my pulse hammer under his analytic gaze, my chest sinking as I swallow the lump in my throat. “Yeah, yeah—I’m…I’m good, sorry.” I mutter, wincing as I hear my toes crack from how hard I’ve been clenching them. 

His eyes narrow, his lips pursing as he tilts his head slightly. “Alright…” he whispers, directing his eyes back towards his computer screen. 

“Are you, uh—do you wanna partner for the final project too?” I ask, biting my tongue as I wait for his response. Matt gives a slight nod, humming in approval. 

We still have a while before it’s due, but partners were supposed to be chosen by Wednesday—-tomorrow. The only other option I really have for a partner is Shawn, and I don't wanna deal with that. This project was a lot of work—which meant that I’d be spending a lot of time with whoever my partner would end up being. 

“Wait—Mia’s calling me!” Matt exclaims. His chair screeches on the floor as he stands up quickly, staring at his phone in his hand with widened eyes. “I’m gonna go take this—-well, is that okay?” he asks. I nod, smiling while I watch him jog towards his room. 

“Hi, Mia! How’re you—” His voice is muffled as I hear his door shut. I tap my fingers on the table, staring around the home. There’s barely any pictures anywhere. Even the frames propped up on the living room coffee table were covered in dust. 

My muscles tense as I hear the front door open and shut. I don’t have to turn around to know who it is, the slight clink of Trevor’s leash paired with familiar steps lets me know it’s him—Chris. 

We haven’t spoken since that day—the day he held me like he really cared—the day he finally said sorry. 

I reach my hand down as I feel paws brush against my leg. Trevor nuzzles into my touch, happily snorting before trotting off to the couch. Looking up, I see Chris staring at me with his hands stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie, his eyes wandering around the area before darting back to me.

“Where’s Matt?” he asks. 

I point down the hall. “His room. Mia called.” I explain. 

Chris nods slowly, his feet starting to walk closer to me. He leans down, pulling Matt’s chair and pulling it directly by me, sitting down and placing his hand on my thigh. The skin beneath his touch erupts with goosebumps, my heart pulsing through my ears as I tense under his warm palm. 

“Relax.” Chris directs. I let out a shaky breath, the heat of his touch callusing around my bare thigh, just above my knee. “I really like this. It’s…pretty.” he mutters, his hand fiddling with the hem of my short skirt. 

Honestly, I didn’t wear skirts often. But I like this one. It has built-in shorts and a bunch of pockets like cargo pants. I didn’t have to worry about the wind making me flash anyone. And—it was really flattering. 

“Thanks.” I mumble, gnawing on my lower lip as I watch his eyes trace up and down my thighs hungrily. 

Chris clears his throat, pulling his hands back into his own lap as he looks up at me. “I…sorry. Got carried away.” 

I shrug, reaching my hand out and pulling his hand back onto my thigh. My fingers squeeze around his, making him grasp onto the skin a little more. It feels…good. Really good. A grin grows on my face as I watch him swallow thickly, licking over his lips as he hesitantly gives my leg another squeeze. 

Oh fuck. 

His hand is in the middle of my thigh, his touch sending waves of warmth up through my body—especially in the pit of my gut. His eyes gleam into mine with intention. I find my hand squeezing harder onto his, my legs tensing as he hesitantly shifts his fingers to dip further inward. 

“You’re…” he trails off, his eyes flickering between our hands before shooting back up to mine. “You’re so soft.” 

My heart is hammering in my chest, my breath hitching in my throat as I inhale shakily. His eyes seem to get hazier, his thumb swiveling against my inner thigh as my back arches slightly off the chair. 

“Chris—”

“Is this okay?” he asks, gently pulling on my thigh. 

Oh. 

Reading into his actions, I nod slowly. My mouth draws open as he grabs my leg, throwing it over his lap. My hands clutch onto the sides of my chair for balance. If the skirt didn’t have built-in shorts, he’d be seeing a lot. But the thought of that didn’t exactly bother me—it made something burn inside of me. 

I want more. His hands on me just feel right—like they belonged there. 

“-I’ll talk to you later, bye.” 

Fuck. My eyes go wide. I quickly pull myself back to sit normally, my actions halted as Chris holds my thigh a little tighter. His touch is possessive, his finger wrapped around my skin like he owns me. 

“Chris—”

“I know, I know.” he huffs, reluctantly letting go before standing up, dragging Matt’s chair back and storming down the hall. I wince as he bumps his shoulder against Matt’s. He disappears down the corridor, Matt looking towards me with confusion as he rubs his shoulder. 

“The fuck is his issue?” he mutters. 

“I don’t know.” I hum, shrugging as Matt sits across from me again. My skin is burning, pulsing as if I’ve been caressed by a static feather. 

Matt bites on his lower lip staring at his phone. He shuts off the device, planting it on the table before staring up at me. “Did he bother you again?” he questions. I shake my head, my stomach churning in knots as Matt squints his eyes at me. 

I feel like he’s staring right through me. Every subtle twitch in his face makes my chest thump with anxiety. 

Can he tell I’m keeping something from him? 

“Okay…let’s just finish this next part…” Matt says, staring back down at his computer as his keyboard clacks repetitively. 

How the fuck am I supposed to focus?

___

Matt and I had finished up a while ago. Once Jimmy came home, I found myself yapping with him on the couch. Well—until he fell asleep. 

My eyes are wide open. I can’t find an ounce of sleep—-not when he’s on my mind. 

Chris. 

His hands on me still lingered with some sort of fluttering sensation in my stomach. It’s something I’ve never felt before. 

The sound of footsteps makes my ears perk. I see his messy hair in front of me as he leans down, grabbing my phone out of my lap. He spares me a quick smile, his eyes gleaming into mine before stalking back down the hallway. 

What the fuck?

Hesitantly, I shift up from the couch. I look over to Jimmy seeing soft snores falling through his lips, Trevor curled up by his feet with his paws propped on the side of the couch. Taking small, quiet steps, I slowly walk down the hallway, seeing Chris leaning against his doorframe. 

With his arms crossed over his chest and a proud smirk, he licks over his lips. My eyes narrow as I look down to his hands, seeing my phone nowhere in sight. “Chris, where’s my—”

“Your phone?” he asks. I nod, watching as he pretends to think, his eyes going squinting as he smirks. “I’m not sure…”

“Is this your way of getting me to come to your room?” I interrogate, watching as he shrugs nonchalantly. 

“I mean, yeah. Pretty much.” he answers, walking into his room without sparing a second look towards me. 

Well. I couldn’t really be mad. It worked. Plus—I kinda wanted him to come and get me. Not because I wanted him, I just liked the way he touched me. Or maybe I was just touched deprived. Or—

“Are you coming in?” he asks. 

Pursing my lips into a straight line, I give a slight nod, walking in and sitting on the edge of his bed. I look around, seeing my phone hooked onto his charger on his nightstand. His room is a little less messy than usual. 

Did he clean for me? 

My heart thumps from the thought, my eyes tracing back to the open door. Matt. This is wrong—something he told me not to do as my friend. He doesn’t want me to get hurt. But I’m just getting my phone. What was so wrong about that? 

Chris sighs, laying on the bed with his back resting on the headboard. “It was almost dead. You’re welcome.” he remarks. I lick over my lips. “Thanks.” I mutter. 

What is he doing?

What’s going on?

Shifting in my spot, I hear him pat the side of the bed next to him. My eyes shift from his hand to his face. Chris nudges his head, clicking his tongue in his mouth. “C’mere.” 

Hesitantly, I crawl up beside him. As I go to lay down, I feel his arm swarm around my waist, pulling me into his lap. Sitting on the top of his thighs, I hover. My heartbeat is pounding in my chest, my fingers clasping onto his shoulders as I try to steady myself. 

His eyes are gleaming into mine, his lips slightly parted as he gives my waist a light squeeze. “You know, Matt really pissed me off earlier. I was havin’ fun…” He leans forward, his breath tickling over my neck as I feel the tip of his nose run along my hammering pulse. “You looked like you were havin’ fun too…”

I feel one of his hands slide up, cradling the back of my neck and tilting my head to the side—creating more space for his hovering lips on the side of my neck just below my ear. My hands grasp tighter onto him, my legs stiffening as I feel my stomach swarm with heat. 

Chris laughs, his hand on my waist drifting down to the top of my thigh. “Already havin’ fun again, huh? You’re so easy to tease—”

“Shut up.” I mutter. 

I try to lift myself off his lap. The familiar possessive hold of his hands stops me, clasping around my hips as he drags me further down on the tops of his thighs. 

“-’m kidding. Geez.” he puffs, leaning back as he crosses an arm behind his head, his other hand lazily resting on the top of my thigh. 

His bottom lip turns white as his teeth clench into the muscle. I watch his eyes glaze over my body sitting on top of him, his lips curling with a proud smile. “You look good like this. In my room, on my lap, all flustered—”

“What the fuck?” 

Shit. 

My body freezes. The sound of Matt’s voice has me bolting off Chris’s lap. This time, Chris doesn’t stop me. I stand up, readjusting my skirt as I look towards the open door, my eyes watering from how wide they’re opened. 

“Matt, I—” 

He huffs, turning on his heel and stomping down the hallway. I wince as I hear a door slam, my skin itching as I feel the guilt crash over me. 

My feet are frozen in place, my face scrunching together as my skin tingles with shame. I can still feel his eyes on me. “I should—I should go.” I mumble, turning around to grab my phone. 

I refuse to look away from my hands as I unplug the device, the thought of his eyes staring back at me making my body cringe. His hand stops mine, his fingers wrapping around the back of my hand as I keep my eyes trained in front of me. “Hey, it’s okay. He’ll get over—”

“You don’t know that.” I spit, yanking my hand back and clutching my phone to my chest. Taking a deep breath, I try to distract myself from the heat rushing to my face, my eyes burning with tears. 

It’s humiliating. I had no self control. The one friend I’ve had in ages is pissed at me and it’s my fault. I hate people being mad at me. It’s so tiring, so draining. 

Not being able to do anything right was something I struggled with. I couldn’t please anyone. Not my mom, not my brother, not even a friend—who was only trying to look out for me. 

“At least let me walk you home, it’s late.” Chris offers, starting to stand up. 

I don’t waste a second before turning around. “No. Just—just no.” I say, rushing out his room before there’s any room for defiance. 

Who cared if something bad happened anyhow? 

I couldn’t do anything right. It was a safer neighborhood too. If a vicious raccoon attacked me, it would probably be karma at this point. 

___

“Partners can pair up now. Choose wisely, you’ll be working together for the rest of the class.” 

My eyes drift to find Matt, but he’s already talking to some other guy.

Fuck. 

“Need a partner?” Shawn asks, his voice echoing from behind me as I scrunch my eyes shut. I feel his hand twist in my hair. Whipping around, I glare at him, sighing as he holds up his hands in defense. 

Is there no one else? 

My eyes drift across the room, my chest feeling heavier and heavier as I see everyone paired up. Matt meets my gaze for a second. I plead with my eyes, biting into my cheek as I see him shake his head, turning his attention back to the guy sitting next to him. 

God fucking dammit. 

“So…” Shawn trails off, tapping his fingers on the desk impatiently. I roll my eyes as I take a deep breath. 

This was definitely karma. 

“Fine. But—I better not be doing all the work.” I say. 

He nods his head, holding his thumb up as he looks towards the digital clock on the wall. “Do you wanna work at my place or yours?” he asks. 

Ugh. I’ve worked at his place before—I hate his house. He had a dad who’s eyes wandered too much for my liking and—I just felt trapped. Just the thought made my anxiety start to make my throat feel tighter. 

“We can…we can work at mine, I guess.” 

My words process through my mind slowly. The thought of him in my room makes me sick, but I also hated the thought of my mom pestering me about him like she has before. 

And Baylen is still home. Although, part of me wondered what break was this long from college. Even though it’s community college and he always brags about it being ‘laid back,’ how could it be this laid back? Maybe he had more online courses. Either way, I’m sick of him. 

Shawn nods, staring at his phone as the class starts to echo with bags being zipped and folders being shoved away. The bell is gonna ring any second. 

“I’ll drive us to yours now? We can get a head start or at least plan shit?” he offers. 

My eyes squint. He’s being productive—helpful, even. Shawn nods knowingly seeing my expression. “I know I’ve been lacking with other projects and I’m sorry. Just…god, being partners with you is a lot easier than that other girl.” He nudges his head towards his last partner, the one he was forced to pair up with after I said no the last time. 

I think her name was Jessica, but honestly? I didn’t know—-or care. She was a bitch. The girl had no awareness of anything around her. She filmed doing her makeup in class like it was cool, flirting with the teachers or brushing them off whenever they called her out. She wasn’t confident, she was just cocky. She knew she was rich enough to never face any real consequences. 

“Alr—”

My words are cut off by the bell. I flinch as I feel bodies rush past me, a shove from behind me pushing me into Shawn. 

“C’mon, let’s go.” he says, holding onto my wrist tightly as he drags me through the chaos. 

The amount of bodies bumping against me makes me feel like bricks are piling on top of my chest, strands of my hair being yanked through the condensed crowd. 

As soon as we make it out of the building, I try to yank my wrist back, hissing as his grip gets tighter. Shawn laughs, dropping my hand as he takes long strides through the parking lot. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to. Just makin’ sure I didn’t lose ya.” he jokes. 

My lips stay pursed together in a tight line. His tone only makes my eyes twitch, my hand rubbing over my sore wrist as I try to keep up with him. 

Karma’s a bitch. 

[jedimandalorian]

To the Church of Ezrabine at Tumblr:

For your contemplation I present to you another quotation from the sacred texts.

“Top Secret: Ezra has a major crush on Sabine but she thinks he is too young. That doesn’t stop him from trying to impress her though!”

(From the 2015 Star Wars Rebels Annual.)

Both Sabine and Ezra are too immature for a serious romantic relationship when they first meet, so Sabine isn’t wrong to think he’s “too young” for that. However, it is important to note that the text does not say that Sabine does not return Ezra’s feelings or that she will not in the future.

Ezra looks like this now. Sabine can’t use the “he’s too young” excuse anymore. 😉

Ezra “trying to impress her” is a topic that has come up before in our study of the sacred texts.

(This quote is from the “The Rebellion Begins” novelization.)

My commentary: “Zeb, thanks for the foreshadowing. Ezra will spend the next four seasons showing Sabine his talents,” not to mention trying to figure out how to flirt with her. 😏

Does Ezra get over his crush on Sabine? Or do those feelings remain, developing into something more over time?

Ezra practically reveals the secret he’s been hiding for years when he finally meets Sabine’s father.

Ezra has to quickly explain that he’s not “with her” with her, but is just friends with her. He had this hilariously awkward moment with Sabine’s father, not unlike how Kanan embarrassed himself when first meeting Hera’s father. (As a general rule, a prospective groom wants to impress his future bride’s father.) Obviously, Ezra’s “secret” is something he has not spoken about with Sabine yet, even when they are older teenagers.

Even after years of being stranded on Peridea, the feelings that Ezra always had for Sabine are still there, and there’s also a mountain of evidence that Sabine returns those feelings when they are both reunited as adults.

I have blogged about this before.

These two star-crossed would-be lovers belong together. They both deserve that happy ending.

The Prophet of the Church of Ezrabine has spoken.

[summercreolefanfictioner]

the scent wafts in, her name making him beg on his knees chap 2.2

pairing: dabi / todoroki touya x fem!oc / reader (MODERN AU)

chapeter summary: Touya finally reveals how he met the reason behind his return (MODERN AU)

(In which Touya returns home after rebelling against his family for 7 years. And no, it wasn't about forgiveness. He wanted to fix himself because of a certain someone.)

themes: mentions of prostitution, nsfw, domestic abuse, violence, alcoholism, cigarette smoking, toxic relationships, mental health, co-dependency and other related themes (YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)

notes: for this one, pls keep in mind that touya didn't have much scars on his face; mostly are on his body to accomodate the plot; charas might be ooc since this is modern au

It seemed to Touya's therapist that the latter had revealed everything that needed to be said about his past and how he got into addiction. However, Touya wouldn't elaborate on certain details about how he survived living away from his family, and even if he did, he would give short answers. For example, when he asked him where he stayed afterward, he simply answered that he had gone to a friend. And then he asked, "What jobs did you do to survive?" Touya answered with, "I did convenience store work. Also a bit of a warehouse stint, like for a logistics company. I also became a dishwasher for a ramen stall. It wasn't easy money, so I had to go to the red district. I worked in a host bar for 2 years and a few. Quit then joined illegal fight clubbing. Also part-timed for a bar because I wasn't fighting a lot. My last job was being a carpenter for a furniture company."

That was it. No explanations on how he landed those jobs or the specifics of his work. Just plainly answered them like a recorded interview.

Touya was aware his therapist was unhappy with his responses. To be honest, there are parts of his job that he wasn't ready to discuss yet. He had overwhelming feelings about revealing the scars of his childhood and teenage life; he wanted to take a break from feeling a lot. It was causing him nightmares, sleepless nights of when his younger self would sleep beside him in his room and ask him why he did all these things. But at the same time, this younger self would cry, a height of emotions as he begged him to return to his old self again.

I wished it was that easy, though.

"Are you still seeing her?" the therapist asked during their next session. "I remember you mentioning her before all of a sudden. It seemed you were happy when you talked about her. May I know more details about your relationship with her?"

Touya stared blankly, and the therapist feared he would close up in his shell further. Maybe asking him about her was a bit too much. Maybe this woman was a sensitive topic for him. Well, he could try next—

"She's the reason I am here," Touya revealed, thinking about the last image he had seen of her before he left their shared space. "She's a nice, hopeless woman."

The therapist nodded, listing down everything he said about her in his journal. "So, did she ask you to go to therapy?"

Touya shook his head. "She never asked me to do anything." And he sighed exasperatedly at the next words, seemingly reminding himself of the bad things he saw in her when he got to know her. It still annoyed him, to be honest. "That's what makes her hopeless. She never asks for what she wants. It's like she's born to please people."

"Are you two... dating?" the therapist asked, and he knew it was a stupid question but he had to be sure. "I mean you know, because you mentioned having sex with her and everything."

"Yes. We're dating. We're still dating."

The therapist didn't know why but there was a lot of emphasis when Touya said he was still dating this woman. It's like he's telling someone out there to 'back off' since she was his and he was hers. Well, it was true. The night before he left, he begged her not to be someone else's, that she should only be his; and she promised him. She fucking promised him, and she should keep it or else he'll go insane at the thought of her being with someone else.

Great. Now, he's displaying a new emotion. Jealousy. Possessiveness. Kind of an improvement, I guess?

"Are you two writing letters to each other?"

Touya's answer worried him greatly.

"No. I purposely don't write a letter."

"Why?" He wanted to say, 'Shouldn't you write her one just to assure her about your welfare and the status of your relationship?' Then again, it would be out of line since it's not his job to tell Touya what to do in the first place.

"I depended on her a lot; used her a lot when I needed to feel," the whitehead reasoned out, remembering all the things that he did to her and what she had to endure just for him to stay. "I have to be on my own so I can be with her again."

"I understand." The therapist closed his journal. "How did you two get into a relationship?"

"She cheated on her ex with me."

Now, that was unexpected.

"C-Cheated," the therapist had to repeat to clarify what he heard, "like you two are in a relationship while she was dating someone else?"

Touya sighed. He knew telling people about how he dated her would gain this kind of unbelievable reaction. After all, they never started out as the usual 'boy-meets-girl-they-got-to-know-each-other-courtship-dating-happy-ever-after' thing. Although it was bad enough that Touya was not the best guy to date, being with her meant trouble. Sure, she was the nicest person, but at the time, she was involved in a messy dipshit, and the idiot he was, he took a dive in there like it was home sweet home.

"It's not like I seduced her or stole her from her ex," Touya quickly added, feeling slightly uncomfortable at talking about this stage of meeting her. "She had only dated that guy since high school, so she was kind of scared of a life without him in it. Even when she wasn't in love with him anymore, she still kept the relationship going despite him cheating on her since college... well, according to her, at least."

"So you're saying, the relationship had already crumbled even before you came into the picture."

Touya nodded, to which the therapist wanted to sigh secretly in relief. He had other patients lined up for the day, and he was already getting drama from his revelations.

"How did you two meet?"

"At a bar. She was on a date with her ex."

------

Sometime in spring 2 years ago, somewhere in Shizuoka

Touya was sitting by the counter, his back leaning against it as he drank his whiskey with one hand. There was nothing fun about this day; this was his usual routine of drinking his life away like he gained multiple livers. Eat. Sleep. Wake up. Take a shower. Smoke shit. Drink. Smoke some more. Eat when he's hungry. Sleep. Wake up. Take a shower. Smoke shit. Drink. Smoke some more. Eat when he's hungry...

It could go on and on, his life nothing but a spiral filled with misery and stagnancy—

He hears Tomura talking to someone at the counter over the phone, probably about shipments of the booze they'll be needing and all that stuff while Himiko sips on her juice placed in a martini glass. It was just a ruse so she could fit in. There's no way Tomura would allow the bartenders to serve her alcohol.

"What's the game plan tonight, Dabi-kun?" Toga asked, excitement and curiosity in her tone. "Are we gonna have fun somewhere?"

"You just want to empty my wallet and buy your shit stuff," Touya noted angrily, aware of how Himiko would steal his wallet every now and then to buy most of her female things. "Just get your allowance from Twice, not me."

Himiko pouted, leaning her chin on her hands. "How rude! You know Twice is strict when it comes to giving me money."

Touya narrowed his eyes on hers. No, he's not. He spoils you rotten. He's just short in cash now because of you.

He left the conversation hanging, noticing a couple arrive inside the bar, their arms linking against each other. One might think this was your usual couple wanting to have drinks and get laid afterward, but no. Touya knew just by looking at their faces that they weren't in sync. The woman was holding her boyfriend's arm a bit tightly but with unease whenever she glanced at him. She looked like she didn't know this kind of place, trying to pull down her skirt to cover the exposed skin on her legs. On the other hand, the man's eyes wandered elsewhere, not paying attention to how the woman was on the edge by herself, looking forward to having fun on his own.

Great. You got a womanizer and a hopeless romantic. What a drama. We even got front-row seats.

Touya didn't pay attention to them anymore, joining Himiko's conversation with Tomura about the latest things she saw some of her classmates do during their free time and how she wanted to do it with them as well. After a few more minutes, Twice would chime in, informing her that he was saving up a lot of money to take Himiko to the movies ("I heard you tell Dabi you want to watch this movie. I still think it's shit but you like it!" "Aww! Thank you, Twice.")

And then, Twice and Dabi decided to go to the back of the bar and take a smoke.

"Oi, better tell that makeshift daughter of yours not to snatch my wallet every fucking time," Touya scolded him. "Seriously, you should've told her you're saving up instead of her trying to get money elsewhere."

"Sorry, Dabi," Twice replied. "But it's not like you didn't steal her charger either!"

"Screw you. I never steal shit from her."

"Well, you used to steal from others—"

"Oi—"

Then they heard smooching and moaning sounds, kind of like wet clapping along with a string of pants and curses. They stared at each other and it clicked. Someone was having sex at the back. Horny shits. Can't even wait to bed or hump in the car at least before getting it on.

Touya took a good look to see who it was and found it was the same guy he saw earlier, and he was fucking one of the cocktail servers, lost in hazy pleasure and not giving a care if someone took a shot of them or get caught by his woman. Twice also took a peek behind him, and was about to open his mouth to reprimand them when Touya grabbed his collar and dragged him back inside.

"D-Dabi! They're having sex in our usual spot," he pointed out as-a-matter-of-fact-ly, crying internally that he had to wait for a bit before he had his daily dose of nicotine. "I wanna have a smoke now!"

"Let's just go someplace else," Touya said, scanning the area to see the woman sitting by herself, quietly sipping her drink but not too much. And the way she was covering her shoulders a lot with her hands like she was warming her skin as she looked around gave the same aura she had earlier. It's frustrating him, to be honest. This woman could've gone home and worn her favorite clothes instead of trying to fit in this place.

Touya must have been staring at her for too long because Twice had to ask.

"Do you know her?" Twice asked, to which Touya shook his head.

"You remember the guy's face earlier, right?" Touya inquired and Twice nodded. He would never forget that jerk, trampling their spot with his wild shenanigans. "He's that girl's boyfriend."

"W-WHAT?! She looks so pretty!" Twice exclaimed in horror, realizing that the pair was on a date and her boyfriend had the guts to be a jackass and leave her alone while having the time of his life. "I wanna kill that jerk right now." But then... "Oh no, she might cry. She's too pretty for tears."

Before realizing it, Touya was already walking towards her, ignoring Twice' cries for him to stop getting himself in trouble (he adds later on that he would like that too but it's not the right time). As the woman continues to warm herself up, Touya sits in front of her and catches her attention.

"T-That's for—"

"You don't fit in here," he casually stated. No preamble. No greetings. No hi or hello. Just straight up telling her she's not supposed to be in this place like the rude person he is. "You don't look like you should be in here too."

Twice luckily was there and was about to reprimand Touya for his lack of tact, that he should be a lot gentler with ladies, or probably stop him from telling her they saw her boyfriend getting hanky panky with someone else out there. Before he could say anything, the woman chuckled awkwardly, looking around her.

"W-Well... I-I'm aware of that," she agreed. "It's my first time coming in, and I... I don't like wearing this dress either."

Noticing her distress, Twice immediately called Himiko over and asked if he could borrow one of her hoodies for her, but before said girl could go upstairs to get one of her beloved clothes, Touya already took off his black leather jacket and handed it to the woman.

"O-Oh. T-Thanks," she mumbled, taking the jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders.

Touya stood up and motioned for Twice and Himiko to join him. "I know a place where we could smoke," then added, "and another place where you can watch your romance shit for free."

Himiko cheered. "Whoopie doopie! As expected of Dabi-kun!"

Twice nodded. "You're not entirely useless, after all."

Touya looked over to the woman. "You're coming with us."

The woman looked frazzled, waving her hands in negation. "N-No... I-I'm with my boyfriend. H-He just went to the toilet. He'll be back. T-Thank you."

Judging by how silly her alibi was, Touya only chuckled in sarcasm, leaning closer to her face as if to challenge her to prove that alibi. "Are you sure you want to go by that answer?" Because she knew where her boyfriend went, what he was doing exactly, and why she was all alone in this bar feeling out of place like a sore thumb.

"I... I..."

Before she could think, Himiko already handed Touya his car keys and he was already pulling her with them, his hand in hers as they escaped the place.

next chap

masterlist

[adora-reads]

The Hunger Games re-read pt.2!!!

This is the part 2 of my The Hunger Games re-read, here is the first part, where are some of my comments of the first book in the series.

Today January 20th, marks the day where I finished Catching Fire, and here is my impressions and opinions of my third time reading it!

I remember the first time I read it being a bit disappointed about the beginning of the book, bc of the timeskip and too much Gale;

Now I can apreciate it, even thought I still think there's too much Gale in it;

I really like the confrontation in between Snow and Katniss in the beginning of the book, I think it really gives the reader a certain notion of how powerful and cruel he can be;

I also like how we have a short period of calm, where we can see how Katniss new life is;

And in her new routine is part of the reason why I find Gale annoying in the first part of the book, he's just too busy being jealous of the whole star crossed lovers thing that he fails in being there for Katniss, wich is something that she needed;

Also, I it makes me sad seeing Katniss struggle in finding what to do with herself after years of just surviving and focusing only in keeping her family alive;

We didn't get much of Madge, but I really wish we got to see her and Katniss going into the woods together;

But one of the things that I like about Collins is how she does not show everything;

I like the victory tour everlark! Very cute, but I just have to say that Peeta is a much better person than me, bc if the person I've been in love since I was four told me it wasn't real and then let me out of a very important conversation they had with the DICTATOR of our country the next time they would be hearing about me would be in the news;

Talking about Peeta I can't help but wonder why his family didn't move in with him;

One thing that I think about a lot is how Snow decided to make district 12 suffer, how he wants to hurt Katniss and make her afraid by making life in 12 even more miserable;

But all this cruelty only made Katniss more of a rebel;

and also, it's so interesting to see how Katniss has this distant notion that she is a symbol to the revolution,but fully believes that she would be better as a matir, how she believes that someone like Peeta should be the lider, the faze of a revolution;

in my opinion this is due to her underestimating the effect she has on people, and also her feelings about Peeta, given that she believes that he's much better than anyone, really;

On a funnier note, is kind of funny to see Katiniss even more in love with Peeta(the eyelashes scene for me is something else), she's is so in love and so deep in denial at the same time oh my God can't;

her reaction when he dies for a few minutes?!

her dreams after making out with him at the beach?!

and kind of unserious but I laugh everytime I think of Finnick waking up to two teenagers making out after he just had the worst two days of his life;

And even if i already know what's coming, Peeta droping the baby bomb is always iconic, I love everytime Peeta decides to put his gaslight habilites to use;

Also, I love Mags with all my heart, I really wish we got to see her more of her, unfortunately, i don't think we will see much of her in Sunrise of a Reaping :(;

I love Finnick, he's so funny, every time he had to remind Katniss she was pregnant I left out a little laugh;

unpopular opinion, but I kind of hate how a good amount of the fandom views him and treats him;

I adore Jo, and really like how me and good portion of the fandom decided that she is a lesbian;

I can't help but feel bad about Haymitch's friends who died in the arena, about all the tributes who died in the arena;

It might be an indicator that I'm dumb, but I never really understood much of what Beete says;

The final chapter breaks my heart, Katniss can never comeback to her home, bc the Capitol destroyed it, and they have one of the most important people in her life, and there's nothing she can do;

And before I forget, I think it's really interesting to see how Effie changes in this book;

she goes from being excited, making sure with everytingh goes right and staying in their schedules to being unable to say something positive;

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

"The Bad Batch" S3 Review- Spoilers

Alright guys, we made it. After 3 years of this lovely show, it has finally come to an end. I definitely plan on doing a review of the entire show and see where it fits with the other big animated shows. However, that will come after my Crosshair Character Study. For now, let's focus on S3. Like Season 2, I'd definitely say it's a solid 8.5/10 for me. Although, S2 might still be my favorite. I honestly think Rebels might be the only show that has a 9/10 final season for me. Look, I loved CW and Siege of Mandalore is phenomenal, but that Ahsoka arc was not it. The final season of TBB has so much I absolutely loved and so much I wished it handled better. So, let's jump right into it!

This season felt so different for me and I definitely know why. The story is much more plot driven than the first two. In the first two seasons, the Batch were more worried about survival and kinda just went on adventures all around the galaxy. The Empire really didn't know where they were so the stakes weren't as high. Crosshair himself was stuck in the Empire meaning he didn't focus on the Batch as much until they crossed paths with him.

S3, however, sees the Batch and Omega specifically being hunted relentlessly. They need to figure out what's going on or else they will never be free. This shift from the Batch galavanting around the galaxy to a more plot driven narrative does change things up. Looking back, I think the creative team just needed more time. S3 has so much going for it and there just isn't time to flesh out the ideas to their fullest potential. That being said, I am overall satisfied with everything they pulled off, especially Crosshair. This show has solidified him as one of my top 3 favorite SW characters and fave clone. He's so well-written and I adore him.

What I loved:

The atmosphere this season was so dark and I loved it. There was a maturity to the ideas and threat level that I honestly really appreciated. Just like Andor, TBB really demonstrates just how monstrous the Empire is. There is nothing that Palpatine won't do in order to achieve total domination and subjugation of the entire galaxy for all eternity. And Hemlock is right there beside him. That man's passion for his craft knows no bounds; it doesn't matter who's strapped to his table. It's so horrifying to think how Tantiss is probably just one of the many, many inhumane and monstrous things the Empire has running. TBB, like Andor, is peak Empire imo. If there was any doubt that this monstrosity could last as long as it did, these two shows erase it.

I also really loved the character relationships, particularly Omega and Crosshair. Their bond is so beautiful and reminiscent of ones I see in my own life. There's nothing Crosshair wouldn't do for her and it fits really neatly with who he is as a person. Omega brings out the best in him, just as she does all her brothers. This season really emphasized how much Omega's brothers have influenced her. Their lessons really come into play by the end of the season. To see her grow from a naive young girl into a mature (but still childish) teenager/pre-teen was beautiful.

Crosshair this season was everything to me. I could be here for hours talking about him. I was beyond thrilled with how they handled him. He has changed so much and this season highlights that growth in every way. Crosshair remains to be the best written character and nothing about him felt OOC. I loved his dynamics with the Batch and Omega. (The hugs were perfect)! I loved how his struggle was something he worked on the entire season; it wasn't just one and done. I love how the themes of trust were woven so perfectly into his story. Crosshair was perfect (I'll touch on the hand thing later). I couldn't have asked for more (except just give me more Crosshair. I will never be tired of him. I could watch a whole show of just him doing stuff).

I don't have a burning desire to punch Hunter anymore. Yay! But in all seriousness, I have developed a soft spot for him. As much as he got on my nerves in S1, I really do appreciate him a lot more. He does care deeply and has a lot he's struggling with.

Echo showing us why he's the ARC Trooper. Seriously, those scenes of him will always live rent free in my head.

Emerie! Really great character and very interesting.

*hides in a corner* Rampart.

The music and animation were phenomenal. Honestly, both were flawless. The music in particular moved me to tears several times. Props to the animators and Kiners because this is some of their finest work yet. That one shot of Crosshair catching CX-2's knife was outstanding.

I also loved the action, seeing the boys fight together, and final shot of the Batch + the epilogue. There is so much I adored in those moments and the rush of emotions I got each time. The epilogue was so personal and I might do a separate write up on it.

The themes of family and hope were also front and center and I loved every second of it. If anyone asks why I love TBB, it's because this is show about family more than anything. The Batch are a family and seeing them learn to be one is so beautiful. It means so much that Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair got to settle down together and raise Omega. It's just beautiful.

What I didn't like:

I wanted more deep convos. Whether it was because of a preference for action or time constraints, the writers just needed to have more deep character emotions and let them sink in. It's why "The Outpost" and Tech's convo with Omega are so well loved; they let us really be with the characters. I wish S3 had more of those moments because they make this show that much better. I just wanted more. And I know this show is capable of that. It sucks knowing what it could've been. So many moments could've hit more had they been given time to breathe or worked in a bit differently.

The way Tech was handled. Hats off for actually keeping him dead. I just wish we got proper closure on that 😐. Although Tech's death looms largely over the Batch, it feels like the writers brushed it off. Why didn't we get a scene of Crosshair learning what happened? I know the time skip implies they all processed Tech's death, but it still felt like something was missing. It felt like the writers expected us to also process it like the Batch and move on. Except, we're not the Batch. We don't know what went on in their heads because they're fictional. The audience relies on the writers to show us that grieving process and we don't get it. It also didn't help that it felt like they were baiting us with CX-2 at times.

Some of the plot lines being dropped for plot/time reasons. Look, I know that it's about the Batch and their journey on becoming a family. However, it felt like more was being set up and it might go no where. One thing I love about TBB in general is how it showed us how the Empire began to change the galaxy the moment Palpatine got what he wanted: total dominance. Clones began to take a stand. Talks of rebellion were already being whispered. I just hope that these storylines revolving around Rex, Riyo, and Echo don't wither away because TBB has ended. Or the Ventress thing. I know they said she'll be back but who knows when that'll happen. I also wanted to know more about the CX Program. That’s what fanfics are for, am I right?

The pacing was brutally fast. This ties into my points about the narrative being more plot driven and lack of time to fully flesh out ideas. It felt like there was almost no room to breathe at times because we jumped from plot point to plot point as each episode progressed. Don't get me wrong, TBB handled this way better than Ahsoka, but I just needed like two more episodes of the boys and Omega running around, ok?

Overall, this season just needed time.

What I am neutral on:

Scorch. Man was done dirty, but I didn't know who he was til this season. Sorry guys. Including him and not giving him anything wasn't a good idea imo though.

Crosshair's hand. I get both sides of the argument, I really do. First off, I'm a sucker for whump. I can't help it. Also, you can say that him losing his hand connects to him severing himself from Tantiss and the pain he went through. But at the same time, Crosshair's trauma isn't going to magically vanish by just chopping off his hand. If anything, it'll just add to the trauma. I applaud the writers for dealing with such a sensitive topic, but from a certain POV the hand chop is a quick fix to a storyline that could've had more substance with another season. I'm neutral on it because again, I see both sides of the argument. I think if we got more of a reaction from Cross, the situation would've been more clear (he was doing some crazy compartmentalization during the back half of the finale, let's be honest here).

Anyways, that's my review of S3 of TBB. Despite it's flaws, this little show still went out on a high note and I am very pleased with it. I love TBB with all my heart and I will hold it cherish it forever. Until next time everyone. I will still be talking about Crosshair and this show, don't worry. No matter what, I will never tire of this beautiful family ❤️