#ive never written first person present tense before

[maxattax]

Meet Me Halfway - Holiday Truce 2023

Happy Holiday Truce! This gift is for @dannyphannypack :) I hope you like it! I used your prompt #4, identity reveal.

--

The second hand on my watch ticks forward slowly. I’m waiting for my most troublesome student to show up for detention, and it is now five minutes past when he should have been here. I shouldn’t be surprised; Daniel Fenton is rarely on time for class, so why should this be any different? I’ll be calling his parents if he isn’t here soon.

Ten minutes past the hour, the door finally opens. “Sorry I’m late, Mr. Lancer. I… uhm…” Daniel’s face scrunches while he searches for an excuse.

I sigh. “Mr. Fenton, I was starting to think you wouldn’t show.” I gesture to the chair I’ve pulled up to my desk. “Have a seat.”

He sits. At first, I say nothing. He squirms in his seat, fingers dancing across the desk. I’ve known many students who are perfectly content to sit in silence, and many who will fill every second with words. But Daniel just waits, uncomfortable. He stares at me, his face grim like a man condemned. I finally break the silence.

“You missed half of my class today. Care to explain why?” I ask.

Daniel picks up a paperclip off my desk and straightens it out, then bends it back into its original shape. “Why bother asking?” he says, shaking his head. “We both know you won’t believe me.”

“Maybe if you told the truth…” I trail off, pinching the bridge of my nose. I lower my hands to my desk and look him in the eye. “I know you’re a good kid, Daniel. It’s clear there’s more going on. If you ever feel comfortable confiding in me, I want to help. Just meet me halfway.”

Daniel meets my gaze. I can’t tell what he’s thinking as he examines me. Is he weighing whether he can trust me? Is he trying to figure out if I know more than I’m letting on? I wish I did. Is he just waiting for me to dismiss him?

After too long, he says, “I’m just going through some stuff. You wouldn’t get it.”

“I might. I was a teenager once, too. I do remember what it was like.” He cocks an eyebrow. I choose to ignore his disbelief. “Is this about Mr. Baxter? I have been too lenient on him. I apologize for his actions; I only recently learned the extent of how he’s been treating you and your peers, and I will be cracking down on his behavior.”

Daniel’s eyes go wide for a moment. “Uh, yeah, that’s it.” Okay, so that’s not it. He’s not a very good liar. “Thanks. He’s been a pain in the a– uh, butt, for a while now.”

That I do believe. Dash has been cruel to several of my students, and I still can’t believe how blind I was to his bullying. I won’t let him get away with it any longer.

But if this isn’t about Dash, then what is it? “I’m happy to help,” I say. Daniel gives me a half smile, but says nothing. “Well, if there’s nothing else, why don’t you get some homework done? We still have forty-five minutes.”

Daniel deflates. “Yeah, fine.” He eyes his preferred seat in the back of the room, but slinks to a desk in the front row. He sinks onto the chair and plops a notebook onto the desk. Hunched over his book, he chews on the back of his pen as he reads. He scribbles something in his notebook, shakes his head, and turns the page.

He looks up at me. I hastily look away and start organizing the papers on my desk.

A few minutes later, I hear a gasp. “Is everything alright, Mr. Fenton?”

His fingers grip the side of his desk. “Uh, yeah. I just have to go to the bathroom. Can I go?” He taps his toes, unable to stay still in his seat. I can’t tell whether he urgently needs the restroom or if he is just eager to get away. It’s probably best to let him go just in case. I open my mouth to respond.

CRASH! The classroom door explodes inward, shards of wood ricocheting off the wall. An enormous glowing green bear stomps into the room. Saliva drips from its razor-sharp teeth, and it lets out a bone-chilling growl.

The bear takes a step in my direction. The floor shakes as its feet hit the ground. “The Winter’s Tale, I’m being pursued by a bear!” I stand up from my chair and back away slowly. My heart pounds in my chest as it takes another step.

“Hey ugly, leave him alone!” The bear rears its head towards Daniel. What is he doing?! It slowly makes its way towards the boy, rage in its eyes. What do I do? I can’t fight a ghost!

I glance towards the door. The phone on the wall has been crushed and is hanging off the base by the cord. It’s times like these that I regret not having a cell phone.

Daniel pulls a thermos out of his bag. This is not the time for soup! I want to shout, but the words are stuck in my throat.

The bear lunges towards the teen, but he nimbly dodges the attack. Daniel skirts around the ghost and points the thermos at its torso.

I drop to my knees and hide under my desk. I hate to leave a student in danger, but I am honestly terrified, and he seems to have this handled, somehow. As I watch, I remember that his parents are ghost hunters. It makes sense that he’d know how to capture them, although I was under the impression that he is scared of ghosts. He is usually the first out the door during ghost attacks.

Daniel dodges another attack, but drops the thermos. It rolls across the classroom floor and bounces off the leg of my desk. The bear notices the movement and turns to face me. Oh no.

The bear takes a few steps in my direction and raises its paw a foot away from my face. Time freezes. This is it. I’m going to die here, and Daniel won’t be far behind. I’ve failed in my duty to protect my students. My muscles tense, bracing for the impact.

In slow motion, the paw comes careening towards me. Daniel leaps across the room. There is a flash of light, and ethereal white rings appear around the boy’s waist. As the rings travel across his body, they transform my young student into the town superhero, Danny Phantom. What in the world?

A glowing green dome appears around me, and the bear’s claws scrape against the light. I’m unharmed? How?

“Okay, now you’ve pissed me off,” the ghost boy says. His voice echoes ominously.

The bear growls in response. It turns to face Phantom, who is floating over my desk, eyes glowing with the intensity of his anger.

Phantom whips around and flies behind the bear. He wraps his arms around it and lifts it over his head, slamming it into the ground behind him. The bear crumples, dazed. Phantom unceremoniously picks up the thermos and activates it. The bear stretches towards the thermos, a growl ripped from its throat as it is sucked into the machine. Phantom caps the thermos with a soft click. The air is still and quiet; the danger is gone.

The teenage ghost floats before me. He stares at me, silent, examining. His deathly pale face is frozen, twisted in an expression of anxiety. He searches me, although for what I am uncertain.

He takes a deep, unsteady breath. Do ghosts need to breathe? “So, uhm,” he says, his voice shaking. “You didn’t see any of that, right?” His hands are trembling, his form vibrating in the air before me.

“I saw a student turn into a ghost and suplex a bear,” I say bluntly. I stand and look up at him. His glow illuminates the area around him, and it’s uncomfortable to look directly at him. “Is that really you, Daniel?”

“Oh.” He lowers himself slowly to the ground. Another blinding flash of light summons rings around his waist, transforming him back into the boy I know. “I guess I have some explaining to do…”

“Yes, you certainly do. You’re a ghost? A Christmas Carol, how did this happen? Are… are you dead?”

Daniel grimaces. “No! Uh, probably. Jazz says no; I’ll trust her on this. Technically, I’m only half-ghost.” He runs a hand through his black hair. “Generally ghosts don’t like to talk about how they died, but I’ll just say there was an accident in my parents’ lab.”

I raise my eyebrows, but before I can speak, he continues. “No, my parents don’t know. Please don’t tell them.” He picks up a pen from my desk, uncaps it, and caps it again. “They wouldn’t take it well.”

This poor boy, having to hide who he is from everybody. That can’t be easy. I word my next question carefully. “Are you safe at home? As your teacher, I am a mandated reporter. That means if you’re in danger, I have to tell somebody.”

Daniel does not meet my eyes, staring intently at the pen in his hand. “No – I – uhm, no. Like, yeah, they’re ghost hunters, but they’re really bad at it. They miss half the shots they take.”

“That means they still hit you with half their shots,” I point out. “I may be an English teacher, but I’m not that bad at math.”

He finally looks up at me. “I’m good at this, Mr. Lancer. I’ve been doing it for a while. If you call CPS, then the Guys in White – sorry, the Ghost Investigation Ward,” he rolls his eyes, “will get involved, and they’re much more dangerous than my parents. Do you think they’ll care that I’m half human, if they even believe me?”

I think back to the last few times the government agents were in town. They haven’t been quiet about their hatred of ghosts. He’s right; they’re not exactly compassionate or careful. “Okay,” I say. “I believe you. You said Jasmine is aware of your… condition?”

Daniel laughs. “I’m a superhero, it’s not a disease. Yeah, she knows. Sam and Tucker do too; they were there when it happened. I’ll, uh, have to fill them in on this.”

A superhero. He’s so young to be throwing himself into danger on a daily basis. No wonder he’s failing his classes. “Why were you late for class today? I expect honesty, this time.”

Daniel blinked, expressionless. “Not the question I expected.” He sighs. “It was a ghost, of course. On the other side of campus.”

“Ah. Is that always the reason you’re late?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” He shrugs. “The ghosts don’t care that I have class. I have to take care of them. Nobody else is gonna do it.”

“What about the Red Huntress? Isn’t it better to let an adult take care of it?”

Daniel barks out a short laugh. “She cares more about capturing me than any other ghost. She shoots first and asks questions never. I can’t leave her to do it alone. Plus, she has sc– other responsibilities too, outside of ghost hunting.”

“You know who she is.” It’s not a question.

“I do. But it’s not my secret to tell.”

I nod respectfully. He really is a good kid. “Okay. I wouldn’t have asked, anyway. She’s not my responsibility. You, however…”

“Yeah, I know,” Daniel says. “I haven’t been the best student. I’ve been so busy fighting ghosts I haven’t had time for anything else. I’ve barely been sleeping. But if you could meet me halfway, I’ll do my best to bring my grades up.”

I appreciate that. He must be incredibly busy, considering how many ghost attacks Amity Park sees every day. “I can’t excuse too many absences, not without the school getting suspicious,” I tell him. “But now that I know about your… extracurricular activities, I can cut you a little slack. And I won’t tell anybody. You have my word.”

Daniel lets out a long breath of relief. “Thank you, Mr. Lancer. That means a lot.”

I smile at him. He smiles back, then gasps. A wisp of cloudy breath escapes his mouth. “Oh no, another one?” he says, annoyed.

“What was that?” It’s not that cold in here, certainly not cold enough to see one’s breath.

“My ghost sense. There’s one nearby.”

A booming voice shouts as a ghost fades into view. “I am the Box Ghost! BEWARE!”

Daniel rolls his eyes. “Can I have a minute to deal with this guy?”

“Of course.” Daniel grins and transforms into his ghostly alter-ego once more. He punches the ghost, confident in every move. He seems to know what he’s doing. I’m glad to finally know what’s going on, and I’ll be here to support him every step of the way.

And maybe even get him to do his homework.

[transhawks]

I know you're writing a fic with Twice is in (and also actually appreciate his character), so do you got ideas, rules whatever, on how to write his dialog? Ll the fics ive read never feels right unless it's straight from the source material 😭

Hey! So, I've definitely played around with this in writing. Let me show some examples and word vomit about Twice. I will say that while I often return to the manga and observe how he talks, I also have developed LOTs of head-canons, so much of this is my own ideas/fanon. When I wrote You in 2020, it was very much an experimental fic, stream of consciousness kind of fic. And I encourage people to play around if they are doing something like solely focusing on Jin. In this case I essentially wrote it in Second person, to emphasize the idea of a fractured mind/depersonalization or the feeling as if "I'm not the real one" that Twice had. Here's how I showcased the split:

This is how I described Jin's initial "split" by the way. Note there's actually THREE different ones - I have a personal theory there's actually three personalities, the dominant Jin who is incredibly traumatized and slightly regressing in maturity, the older, quieter maturer personality who shows up only when we see into his thoughts, who seems pensive and contemplative (most of 115 is his narration) and kind of gives Twice's manga international narration a film-noir like quality, and the vocal "negative" voice that I guess either contradicts voice 1 or functions like an id to the ego.

Before anyone chimes in with "FREUDIAN PSYCHOANALYTIC THEORY IS TRASH AND DEBUNK-", yes, I know, but I find the idea of splitting the mind like this useful for literature, specifically, not real life. And I suspect a lot of writers do as well, so the idea of a "split" mind where a voice voices the things no one should want to say or think as Horikoshi has created here works well in that framework. Hence, when I write the split in Jin's mind, I use it as a way for me to figure how what's with his mind.

One of the biggest issues is that Jin's issues are very much pop-culture/fantasy mental illness because no disorder fits him well. For one thing, Jin's trauma is also a neurological one because he clearly had brain damage from the whole experience that cause his scar. And then it's like Horikoshi decided to take elements of schizoaffective psychosis, tourette's, BPD, DID, and OCD and PTSD and throw in "actual force blunt force brain damage" into the loop. That's not to say Twice's struggles aren't realistic/relatable - they totally are, but whatever he has isn't exactly an accurate depiction of anything out there (especially since it's so quirk-based). Personally, tailoring it to fit something neatly, I think, would do a big disservice to his character so I don't strive for that sort of realism and just work with what Horikoshi outlines for us.

Anyway, that is to say that often when I try to depict mental illness in writing, especially from the perspective of the ill person, I try to incorporate elements of disorder into the writing itself stylistically (I sometimes do this with writing Hawks as well). A lot of people just only strictly stick to this past-tense (or present) third person limited way of writing, and I think there's fun in throwing that out and using characters like Twice as reasons to do it. Or just playing around with formatting.

Anyway, this is how I try to depict it from a Third Person Limited perspective in Irreversible.

So first off, I distinguish between the spoken voices Jin has by bolding the contradictory voice. Internally, I depict intrusive thoughts by keeping it bolding, putting in parenthesis, and then justifying the text to the right. It breaks up the paragraph and creates the "element of disorder" I spoke about earlier. Here's what that can look like at it's most disordered, where there's essentially a mental conversation written out.

There's also a clear difference in spoken vs internal because while internally the voice addresses Jin himself to create an element of insecurity (questioning if he even deserves Toga's kindness), it's only in speech that he'll contradict Jin after he says something. This doesn't always happen, and I don't think every sentence needs it. Jin has moments in-manga where he doesn't speak like this and I also think it correlates with emotional state (interestingly a really upset Twice can be more "together").

But it's not as simple as "Jin says something, bold immediately contradicts it." That would make it boring to both read and write. My suggestion to have an actual reaction by a Jin to the bolded words - because it happens in canon (sometimes he tries to stop himself from talking further).

In this sentence, I make Jin immediately refute the previous sentence. It's not a full on back and forth, but it does show that he's aware the other voice is saying things and what it is saying. Lastly, this is more me on how to actually make it matter besides keeping it accurate to canon characterization. First, Jin is funny. Naturally he's funny and very blunt, but his illness is also used by Horikoshi for tension relief and to kill the seriousness or somber mood the LoV scenes can evolve into. Do not be afraid to use this for humor because as a character, Horikoshi DOES do this HOWEVER, this is not all Jin is, and when showing his internal life, there's far more seriousness to it all. But if you just want to write Jin instead of focusing on him, I think acknowledging he has a (wacky, immature and slapstick-y) sense of humor and in turn can be a funny character is not a bad thing. He lends himself well to physical comedy so don't be afraid of writing him doing weird things or making funny gestures.

Two, make the words count. At the end of the day, you're writing a story. You are not only conveying personality through these words, you are hopefully moving plot forward, or using the space you have carefully. Do not be afraid to have the contradictory voice say something poignant, something no one else would say, or ominous that can be used as foreshadowing for later parts of your story. Remember, these are characters that are meant to tell stories so use them.

[neerikiffu]

time for an update huh (30.03.24)

i'm alright now

i completed hamefura game and now will be playing nightshade

silva is officially THE BEST, with rozy coming at 2nd place everyone else is kinda ehh

and i also really dislike the tendency of

well we've been unable to sort out our feelings for 7 chapters so we're just gonna quickly confess share a kiss and get married and then the game will end and maybe we will get a little text entry about how we blushed eating ice cream out in the town together or something

WHAT WAS ALL THE BUILDUP FOR"??? okay you got married but no aftermath at all?????"? like, what was the entire game for? if we're not gonna see you two interact any further? and it's not like 7 chapters is an hour or two, it's like 4-6

yeah silva was the coolest

YET SO MUCH LOST POTENTIAL GAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

why didn't they explore how fucking consistently innuendo-suggestive he was in the first part of the game, no explanation, no continuation, nothing, they couldve at least made a reference to it sometime later, but they did nothng, this part of him just vanished without any reason nor his attitude was ever explained

on another note, i've finished watching kusuriya no hitorigoto and then got provided with the light novels, so now i'm reading that before bed

on one more note, i am being pressured into watching jobless and reincarnation into slime so that once the next seasons start airing i could join the watch party

on some other note, i have been out yesterday with FRINEDZS??????? and we've been downtown and there we got to know that that one english competition ive been on, i won it, so i ate a big burger. i am happy

what's the competition? it was last saturday, we had to come to some other school, there were 16 of us, we first had 40 minutes for a, supposedly, really tough written test with …3 tasks, the only hard thing there was probably supposed to be vocabulary - but i know it already - so it wasn't, and i turned it in at the 15th minute, mostly because i was taking too long rechecking my answers

next thing was the game of alias we were randomized into 4 groups of four and then we had to switch between explaining and guessing words, as we've been watched by some serious guys

and next thing, the disaster, was the ted talk

we had to lead a 4 minute ted talk on themes we were given a week prior, with a presentation

i made the best presentation on climate change you will ever find, with tons of cool animations, but we werent given a remote so i had to wave my best at my friend, and as time was ticking and she didn't entirely understand my creative points and didn't let animations finish playing out, i was visibly frustrated and maybe even aggressive, so i probably have been a little mean in my gestures.

i am not the most collected person and i do my best to retell the slides with bits of additional info so i ended up taking a lot of time. and as i've been halfway through i've been hit with the "10 seconds left!". WHAT. like, you couldn'tve told me earlier, no? bruh

i had to skip half of my presentation and there was so much interesting stuff that had to be skup (skip in past tense?) over…

i felt like collapsing the entire time i was standing there, and i couldnt stop shaking for like ten next minutes

they never told us what would the prizes be, instead referring to them with never changing two words: "valuable prizes". maybe they knew the prizes would be so demotivating that nobody would even try to win - so they left them ambiguous :| at least they fed us free candy

and, i got back to work

my issues were volume bars

well, i made them

then i moved on to making the rebinding menu, after some little fixes

took me a few days

now doing confirmation boxes

[lazysublimeengineer]

you bring color to my monochrome world

Summary: Her smile was the burst of psychedelic hues to Takemichi’s dull, greyscale life.

His loyalty and conviction brought out a multitude of colors to Hinata’s sepia life.

His candid, azure irises painted a sheer, rich texture of prismatic hues to Mikey’s void, insipid life.

Characters:Takemichi H., Hinata T., Manjirou S.

“I wish you a kinder sea.”

— Emily Dickinson

i. I will protect you.

Takemichi was drowning.

He was drowning in the sea of doubt and hopelessness. What was he thinking? Going back to the future to undo every mistake that he did there and save Hina? He couldn’t even save himself from Kiyomasa’s punches and roundhouse kicks. He clenched his fists as he stared at the blinking street lights around the city that evening, ignoring the stares from the other people because of his mottled face and bruised body.

However, was it the right thing to do? To run away again? To struggle in vain and restart his stale life all over again?

He could feel his eyes started to water as he remembered Hina’s forthright yet breathtaking smile when she uttered those words at him in the midst of his own torment and wretchedness: I will protect you.

Her smile was the burst of psychedelic hues to Takemichi’s dull, greyscale life.

And he swore to himself that he won’t fail her this time around.

He would save her.

Even it could him his own sanity and life in the long run.

ii. The only way to win is to kill me! I definitely won’t lose!

The first time that Mikey saw Takemichi was when he was in the middle of an underground fight with Kiyomasa which was to be honest looked like a one-sided battle since the poor guy was being treated like a punching bag by his opponent.

He pursed his lips. Underground fights were stupid and he didn’t want to have the name of the Toman to be tainted by a useless slugfest like this. He was about to make his way there when he stopped midway upon hearing the young man’s speeches that was brimming with firmness and determination.

“The only way to win is to kill me! I definitely won’t lose!”

But the one that caught his full attention was his deep blue eyes shining with tenacity and valor. There were only few people around the world that possessed that kind of reckless yet admirable conviction.

He hadn’t seen that kind of eyes and fighting spirit since his late older brother.

That day he had made up his mind. He needed to have a buddy like Takemichi into his life.

He signaled for Draken to make their presence known when Kiyomasa was getting berserk and demanding for a bat.

The crowd went in complete, deathly silence as they presented themselves and was already beating up Kiyomasa after he succinctly made his existence well known in front of Takemichi.

“Takemitchy. See ya later.” He shot him a carefree grin before he turned away and left the place completely. The young man’s befuddled yet ingenuous expression was forever etched into his memory.

His candid, azure irises painted a sheer, rich texture of prismatic hues to Mikey’s void, insipid life.

iii. I ain’t gonna give her up ever again!

Hinata’s hand was trembling.

Nevertheless, she wouldn’t give these people the satisfaction of seeing the fear creeping up slowly within her. She knew that Takemichi was too trustful and forthright to a fault even though it’s also one of the reasons why she had fallen in love with him.

She just can’t stand there and watched the two delinquents domineered him into their own whims and wants whenever they wanted to. She promised Takemichi that she will protect him after all and she always held and fulfill her own promises.

However, she made a mistake of thinking naively that they can get away unscathed after she pulled out a brave yet foolish stunt of slapping the blond right in front of the class. She tried not to shake as she felt a hand gripped her wrist and heard the threat of the tall male with braided locks that made her swallow thickly.

“Hey. Do you want me to kill you, bitch?”

She heard more words and threats that came out of his mouth before she decided to respond and gave him a piece of her mind. Takemichi was always bruised, crestfallen and lost every time she saw him dropping by her flat. She had enough of these people dictating and treating him like their own slaves. Even if this will put her in a risky situation, she will defend and protect the man she loves.

She was now ready for the consequences of her actions but she was taken aback when Takemichi’s hand gripped the tall male’s shoulder firmly and demanded him to let her go. No. No. No. No. She didn’t want Takemichi to suffer and take the brunt of her actions. If she had to intervene again to save him, then she will have to do it even if it could cost this her own life.

She was about to speak again when Takemichi’s next words made her eyes widened briefly and rooted her to the spot.

“I ain’t gonna give her up ever again!”

It was stated with raw conviction and firm temerity that she had to double take and stared up at him with wide eyes that was brimming with amazement and concern for his well-being now that he challenged the two delinquents in front of them.

‘Takemichi-kun…’ Hinata restrained a gasp as she observed Takemichi in silence. It was like seeing another facet of him that was different from what she used to see. But she liked his tenacity and firmness. He may be a crybaby and wore his heart on his sleeve but she knew that his heart was in the right place.

After a troublesome misunderstanding later and apologies pouring from her lips, she waved goodbye to Takemichi and let him hang out with his newfound friends.

His loyalty and conviction brought out a multitude of colors to Hinata’s sepia life.

And she could never get tired of loving him.

iv. That’s why I’m going to create an era for delinquents.

Mikey stared at the horizon in front of them with a serene smile on his face.

Takemichi observed him from a few distances away, looking at the quiescent male who was sitting on the grass. Draken was also standing a few meters away from them, sporting an unflappable expression on his face.

From what he observed so far, Mikey was a delinquent but he was not a bad guy. He was simply a person who possessed some radical beliefs on his own and translated it into his actions that may be questionable to other people due to his carefree yet strong personality and straightforward manner of speaking.

He had also noted some odd yet interesting behavior from the gang leader himself. Even though he’s mostly laid back and insouciant he had a habit of flipping a switch to his moods seamlessly, revealing a hidden cold anger and ruthless nature from within as he had witnessed on how he just beat up Kiyomasa like it was nothing.

There was a saying that the eyes were the mirror to the soul.

But when he looked at Mikey’s onyx eyes it was a bottomless pit of nothingness. Devoid of any emotion and was a vacuum of an empty black hole. He remembered how he stared down at Kiyomasa like he was nothing more than a pathetic insect under his palm that’s waiting to be crush. And how Mikey’s eyes almost suck the life out of him earlier in that tense situation with Hina, almost resigning himself for the inevitable punch that would come from his hands only to be tricked and playfully derided by him that he’s a dummy and he doesn’t hit girls.

Hence, he had reached a conclusion that Mikey was hard to understand and read his intentions sometimes.

However, one thing was for sure: Mikey was not a bad person and he’d be willing to help and save him alongside with Hina to prevent them from meeting their miserable future and demise.

He just had to convince Naoto to get to the bottom of the problem and find out the reason why Mikey turned out the way he was in the future.

“That’s why I’m going to create an era for delinquents.”

The gang leader didn’t need to convince him twice when he asked him to join his gang after he shared his goal and vision to him. Just looking at his charismatic smile and earnestness, Takemichi knew that he was drawn in. Hook. Line. And sinker.

v. You should come with me. I like your guts. Hanagaki Takemichi.

He stood up but he was still looking at the horizon when he finally revealed his vision and intentions to him, uttering his name correctly for the first time.

“You should come with me. I like your guts. Hanagaki Takemichi.”

Mikey couldn’t picture out his exact reaction to his words but he could already surmised the genuine astonishment and wonder that was written on his clear blue eyes. Then the seriousness and determination that would crossed his face afterwards.

That’s the kind of guy Takemichi was. Honest, sincere, determined yet reckless sometimes when it came to defending his beliefs and the people that he mostly cares about. It’s easy to read him. Just dropped a verbal bomb in front of him and he’ll be getting a multitude of interesting expressions from his face.

…and there were times that he isn’t.

He had seen how Takemichi would be like an open book but with hidden pages that was not visible to the naked eye. Takemichi wasn’t a liar yet he was a secretive person as well. He cannot forget his initial reaction when he asked him casually if he’s really a middle schooler in that school. It was an unguarded moment for the young lad and he had a look that screamed of panic and anxiousness.

Interesting.

Even though Takemichi was an emotionally expressive person and vocal about what he believed was right and wrong, he still couldn’t decipher what his real purpose was. All he knew as of the moment was, he was too protective of his girlfriend Hinata who gave him an amazing slap earlier.

He was willing to defend and fight for her even against to the people like them.

What a reckless guy. But he guessed that was a part of Takemichi’s own charm. He couldn’t help but to be intrigue by this person who possessed those electrifying sky-blue irises and a sheer will determination.

‘Hinata huh? What a lucky gal…’ Mikey thought as he gazed at Takemichi’s profile.

For now, he could only basked in the vibrancy and vivid hues of Takemichi’s presence, coloring his monochromatic world with the promises of hope for the future.

(A/N: I don’t own Tokyo Revengers and any of the characters from this franchise. Inspired by the scenes that shows the relationship and interactions of Takemichi with Hinata and Mikey. I believed in Takemikeyhina supremacy but I lived for some drizzle of angst and pining hence the end results of this one shot. Apologies in advance for some grammatical errors and if some of them are OOC as English is not my native language and I’ve tried my best to keep them in character. Reviews are amusing hence I look forward to hear them from you).

[lacertae-dreamscape]

Hi! So I started writing in 1st person POV, but would like some chapters or scenes to be in 3rd. Is that not something that usually happens? It’s just hard because my story is mainly focused on main characters inner thoughts but 3rd person would give more context when more characters are introduced 😅 btw your advice is amazing and the most helpful

i have to admit, i do not remember if i've ever read a book or story where the POV has ever moved from first to third. ive seen POV changes from one character to another, but still maintaining the first POV, but hmmm.

I know, as i mentioned once, first pov is very limiting for when you wish to give a broader sense of what's happening in your story, but mixing too many POVs might make you feel cluttered, or you might have a difficult time switching back after that.

it's a bit like when writing in present tense and suddenly switching to past (or viceversa) where it'll just come bite you in the ass because afterwards you'll randomly switch and write various paragraphs before realising what you've done and having to go back and correct it.

still, i'd say go for it, and once you've written the scene, you can decide whether to keep it or not based on how you feel about it, since things always look different once they are written out.

nothing's gained by wondering, and honestly? there's never a *bad* thing when it comes to writing. even in the off chance that you end up disliking the scene and decide to scrap it, it got written and you got some practice, which is never bad.

ive written plenty things that i ended up scrapping (and i mean. 5k worth of things. entire one-shots. entire scenes.) (and boi did it hurt to have to scrap it but also like... cleansing in a way, too) but having written them always added to it because it's like you taking a sceneric route and halfway down u think 'actually u know, i wanna go back to the shortcut' but like, what you saw during the sceneric route part remains with you regardless, and u might end up thinking later on that 'that bird i saw then was very cute and colourful'. so that's still a net gain, even when it doesn't pan out like u want it to.

(you could always enjoy third person more and decide to edit the entire project to be in third, after all third person is omniscient, so you can work deep into your character's thoughts even like that and then switch to doing the same for other charas :> ... but im super biased ok? XD)

plus like... even if it was not common to switch up, it could work well for you and that's what matters.

(have to wonder though, would it not work better to split the POV between two different narrators in the scenes where u need a different look into a situation? even if just for this one part, it could work better than outright going 3rd?)

glad u think my advice is ok, lol, the more i write the more i wonder if its any good or if im just opening my mouth to air the insides of my brain... dfhjsdkvhkjh

oh right, as a tip i would like to say if you committ to a changed POV, id suggest going directly for entire chapter, otherwise it would be too short a break and might feel jarring, especially once you reach the end of the story and realise it was done only that one time.

a good switcharoo a few times would work better to keep the pace up and not feel like its a sudden, harsh cut from situation to situation.

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

All Is Found:Anastasia!AU

Part IV – As The Pieces Fall Into Place

Fandom: The Witcher Word Count: 1,381 Rating: T Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @jill-makes-art @mynamesoundslikesherlock @magic-multicolored-miracle​  @writingstudent @mlleecrivaine @coffee-and-stories​ @astouract​ @ultracolorfulnerdcollection  @your-not-invisible-to-me @kemmastan @mycat-is-mylove @amirahiddleston 

a/n: A retelling of Don Bluth’s Anastasia (1997)

Stregobor was a patient man.

He attributed his survival to this fact, unwilling to rush in where others may. He was also careful to keep himself at a distance, sending in others to do most of the work for him. The Toussaint Affair, as he delicately called it, was one of the rare exceptions where he’d chosen to be there. He needed to see the plan through to ensure its success and for satisfaction. The Nilfgaardians had offered him a king’s ransom and a position as Chief Advisor but he had insisted on staying, patiently waiting in hiding until he could find definitive proof of the princess’s death.

In the 10 years since she had slipped from his grasp not a day had gone by that he didn’t think of her. No scouts had been able to find her body but spies in Cidaris hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her either. The Nilfgaardians felt confident in their hold on the territory and he knew that there were whispers that he had grown paranoid and mad in his old age. Perhaps the only people on earth who believed the girl was still alive were himself and her grandmother. Her grandmother was slowly losing hope, the rumors reported. He was far more steadfast. Women were tricky. You could think they were handled and then they would crop up like dandelions in a garden, despoiling what had been set in motion without regard for the bigger picture. And so he waited, and he ignored the whispers and taunts, and he prepared.

Until the day his patience was rewarded.

-----

It was a lovely day to leave the country.

The air was briskly cold but it hadn’t continued snowing and the sun was out. You were standing in a clearing in the woods with not a single living person in sight beyond the three of you. Geralt had gone deeper into the woods briefly, leaving you and Jaskier alone. The bard immediately pulled his lute around and began to strum a wordless tune. You waited patiently for a few minutes but patience had never been your strong suit.

“What’s that song?” you asked.

“I don’t know yet,” he said.

“Oh you’re writing it?”

“Of course,” Jaskier scoffed, “I’m not going to perform songs that aren’t my own composition.”

“Ah, well, of course,” you said, amused by his incredulity, “It’s very pretty.”

This earned you a little smile though his face turned up to the sky as he worked out a rhyme or a stanza or whatever it was bards worked out.

“Are you from New Nilfgaard?” you asked, “Originally, I mean.”

“Not originally, no,” he said, eyes falling back down to the instrument in his arms. You sensed you were approaching a tender subject and resolved to wait quietly and not ask any further questions.

“Is Geralt?” you asked, your promise forgotten.

“You’re very inquisitive,” Jaskier remarked, though not critically. He looked at you as though he were trying to figure you out, the sky-blue eyes assessing.

“I haven’t been around people my age much,” you admitted, “Once you become an adult you’re sent out so it was hard to establish any real connections, knowing you’d likely never seen them again.”

“That sounds lonely,” he said, something like empathy in his eyes. It made you uncomfortable and you searched for something to talk about instead.

“Tell me about the lute,” you suggested, gesturing to the instrument.

“Oh, well, this is a lute,” he said, pulling the strap overhead to better show it to you, “It was my first… lute.”

“Well it’s very lovely,” you praised. You weren’t actually sure if that was true, having little knowledge of lute aesthetics, but the sounds he made with it were pretty.

There was a rustling behind the trees and Jaskier rose, covering you and raising his lute.

“Who goes there?” he intoned.

Geralt moved into view, glancing amusedly from the raised lute down to Jaskier.

“Geralt! Excellent! Were you able to get it?” the bard asked, lowering the instrument and rushing closer to his friend. Geralt reached into his pocket and Jaskier quickly took the paper from his hands, looking over it for a moment before his face broke into a grin and he turned back to face you.

“Fresh off the presses madame,” Jaskier crowed, presenting you with a newly written identification papers with a flourish. It was, you assumed, excellently crafted. It had your name, including the placeholder surname you’d been given at the Home, and a description of you from your height to an estimation of weight (a strikingly accurate one, actually) and other appearance details.  

“How does it work?” you asked, holding the paper up to the sunlight.

“What are you doing? What do you mean how does it work?” Jaskier asked, snatching it from your hands and folding it back up, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. You rolled your eyes at his paranoia.  

“Well surely it can’t be that simple. It looks incredibly easy to forge,” you remarked. Jaskier looked at Geralt who incredulously who just shrugged.

“Trust us and our methods and you focus on your part,” Jaskier insisted. You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him a pointed look but the bard didn’t so much as flinch. Geralt took a step back.

“Jaskier, do you really believe I’m the heir of Toussaint?” you asked calmly. Jaskier pretended he didn’t feel Geralt’s eyes on him as he scoffed.

“You know I do,” he answered.

“Then as your rightful ruler, I would like to know how you have made this document,” you said.

“I’m not a native of this country, remember?” Jaskier volleyed, taking a step towards you, hands on his hips and his voice low and serious, “You have no authority over me.”

“But I do over myself. And that has my name on it,” you shot back, moving towards him to bridge the distance, stance just as determined. You stared into the stormy blue eyes for several long, tense moments as you battled over who was more stubborn, both assured that you would win out.

“There’s a magicked ink,” Geralt said, breaking through the tension as both of you dropped your gazes to look at the witcher. “The ink can only be gathered through certain channels and we have an associate who was able to procure some. It will be believed.”

“What about the signature?” you asked.

“Forgery is the easiest part of all of it,” Geralt answered with a laugh, “Jaskier is right that we know how to navigate this world. You can rest assured of that at least.”

“Alright,” you said as you turned to look again at Jaskier, a note of resignation in your voice, “What is my part?”

“Let’s walk and talk, I don’t like these woods,” Geralt said, moving off towards town. You and Jaskier fell in step behind him and the bard began to quiz you on what you knew about Toussaint.

-----

“Master Stregobor.”

The young woman knelt before him, snow still falling off of her boots and melting into the stone floor.

“You’ve found her,” he said. The woman rose and nodded excitedly. He’d promised much to any one of his devotees who succeeded in finding the first lead on the princess. “Where?”

“She is accompanied by a witcher and a bard. They were in the woods but I heard them speaking of their plans. They’ve forged identification papers and plan to head to Cidaris,” she replied. Stregobor’s eyes shone with unmistakable satisfaction. He exhaled deeper than he had in 10 years and nodded fondly at the mage apprentice who waited for her reward.

“You have done very well,” he said, “Your work has been instrumental in ensuring the proper order of New Nilfgaard and your name will be remembered.”

She died with a smile on her face, the action so quick she didn’t even realize it was happening. Stregobor had stayed alive by sending others to do the work for him, but he had learned an important lesson those many years ago. He had the upper hand, making moves before anyone knew he was a player, and he would continue to be ruthless in his elimination of loose ends. This time there would be no mistakes. 

[fymagnificentwomcn]

Leyla Feray was a perfect "Ayşe Sultan", Farah Zeynep is not that pretty plus the role of a sultana didn't suit her and of course Farya as a character sucks ! Still bitter about Tims's casting for Turhan Hatice and for how they portrayed her and she only appeared in 3 episodes Ibrahim's reign deserved its own season

I agree Anon. Harem didn’t play an important role during Murad’s reign, so to be honest I would be satisfied with having only Ayşe as a developed character. Harem during Ibrahim’s role played a HUGE role and the fact that we didn’t get all the harem dynamics of that period explored properly is my huge regret and I can bet show’s creators feel the same because they obviously planned for Season 3 devoted wholly to Ibrahim’s reign.. but such is Turkish TV market now and they still delivered a story of Kösem’s life that made sense, which is more you can tell of many TV shows nowadays, even those with huge budget and safe position like Game of Thrones that HBO would have likely prolonged as much as they could, but D&D were certain they had enough time to wrap everything up properly lol. So in those conditions,not knowing when they may get axed (and Turkish shows are filmed like two weeks in advance only), I still appreciate what they did… Now that my initial expectations about whole season of Turhan/Kösem rivalry, Ibrahim’s harem, Turhan of my dreams are more in past, I’m more able to appreciate what we got in that conditions eh.

Devoting so much time to Farya and Murya was HUGE mistake, since it didn’t save the ratings by bringing FZA’s fanbase etc., and it truly stole a lot of precious screentime later. The pacing issues are in MYK from start – back in S1 they introduced Beren earlier than planned and then rushed to end S1 with Kösem becoming regent because they weren’t sure they would get renewed. Maybe it’s crying over spilt milk now, especially since they are obviously aware that they had made a huge mistake – Farya’s screentime was clearly strongly reduced after 10 episodes and after she was removed, she was practically never mentioned again, like they pretended she had never existed lol.

Mhm I don’t think actresses’ appearance is of importance here, sultanas were normal girls, I know it is often assumed that they had to be pretty to captivate the padişah, but it was not always the case - Hürrem apparently wasn’t that conventionally pretty, but managed to charm Suleiman so much regardless. And each sultan had his own preferences. There isn’t something like “a sultana look”. I hear people talking “this actress is too pretty to play a subject, not a sultana” and I’m like ???? Royal blood doesn’t make you pretty either.

I think Leyla was absolutely fine. I liked her cutesy image in contrast to Murad’s violent nature. You can see why this girl “brought him peace” and why he ultimately destroyed her… just episode before she makes the big mistake and helps Gülbahar out, Murad threatens her to become her nightmare after Farya told him about her suspicions. She was soo scared, she was willing to do everything just not to face Mu/rat’s /spelling intentional/ wrath. And then she regretted what had done so much when she heard about people who suffered in the fire and wanted to fight Gülbahar as mother of Murad’s kids and his woman… and poor thing ultimately got exposed for wanting to fix things… #AyseDeservedBetter

I’m not satisifed with the Turhan we got, but after reading more stuff about Kösem vs Turhan conflict I’m now against the “Turhan was innocent cookie, who only jumped to her son’s defence” thing – it’s a clear example of “history being written by winners” thing. Turhan was definitely very good at propaganda – relationship between her and Ibrahim was surely tense and full of mutual dislike, and Mehmed ascending the throne and Ibrahim being dethroned surely was a good thing for her – yet in correspondence to statesmen that she wanted to bring to her side she described herself “as poor suffering widow, who just wants to punish those who killed her beloved husband”, among which she meant Kösem. There was even an occurrence when one of statesmen supporting Turhan went to Kösem to accuse her of killing Sultan Ibrahim and putting all blame on her, which reportedly shook Kösem very much. While Kösem likely did make moves to dethrone Mehmed, it’s very possible that the poisoning thing was invented by Turhan and her people to rally support. Reports put blame on “misinformation” on Suleiman Aga, who was treated as person inciting the showdown, but we know Suleiman Aga served Turhan, and it was a natural thing that servants of Imperial figures were blamed because nobody dared to accuse the actual Valide.

Turhan as Valide Sultan did not only manage harem, but was involved in state matters and the double rule often made it harder for Kösem to stabilise Empire. Turhan wasn’t deprived of being Valide Sultan; Kosem’s position was simply new & unprecedented and allowed her to be regent. While mothers began to play the role of regent recently (Kösem for Murad, Halime unofficially for Mustafa, Handan as co-regent together with Ahmed’s lala, even Mehmed III leaving the affairs in Safiye’s hands when he went on campaign to Hungary), there was no law on this and previously e.g. there was more inclination for Grand Vizier in this role.

In the end, they were both morally grey because while Kösem likely didn’t plan to poison Mehmed, of course there was always risk of him losing his life if any problems ensued following deposition, as the Ibrahim case showed.

Still, the innocent cookie defender of her son Turhan vs. evil hag Kösem narrative is not the true one.

We also must remember that:

Discretion prevented Ottoman writers from criticizing royal mothers (they did not record the hostile barbs directed by Ottoman statesmen at queen mothers and favorites which made their way into European accounts), but they did not hesitate to employ invective in he case of lesser women of the sultan’s harem. Naima, so careful to defend the young queen mother Turhan, criticized other concubines of the “mad” İbrahim with relish.

Taken from: Leslie Peirce, The Imperial Harem: Women and Sovereignty in the Otoman Empire.

I’ve found some evidence for Turhan being groomed by Kösem and Turhan’s involvement in politics even during Ibrahim’s reign (namely in connection with the Crete war), so while we don’t know much about the relationship between the two women before Mehmed’s reign, there is some evidence supporting MYK’s direction. Leslie Peirce states that Kösem groomed Turhan and Thys-Senocak mentions that Atike chose and trained her.

However, as a new slave woman in the palace, a gift of Kör Süleyman Pasha to the valide sultan Kösem, she had been trained by Atike Sultan, a sister of Murad IV, and groomed by Kösem, who presented her to her son.

Taken from: Leslie Peirce, The Imperial Harem: Women and Sovereignty in the Otoman Empire. Peirce also reiterates that Kösem groomed Turhan in her short article entitled Gender and Sexual Propriety in Ottoman Royal Women’s Patronage.

Training by Atike could be also on Kösem’s request, though we cannot say for certain Atike was Kösem’s daughter, but yet again Kösem seemed to pretty much take care of whole dynasty, not only her own children. It is interesting because the position of the mother of eldest son’s gained importance due to switch to seniority and we know for certain Turhan wasn’t Ibrahim’s favourite consort – but maybe again he was attracted to her at first and the relationship deteriorated later. Due to her being mother of eldest son, Turhan had to be aware that being Valide is in store for her, and Kösem also had to accept the fact.

The fact is that with four episodes the showrunners decided to focus more on the already established characters and Turhan got pretty much sacrificed for it – after all, it was Kösem’s story. I get what they did for abridged story purposes, but what I saw on screen did not reflect my imaginations of historical Turhan.

In the end, MYK Turhan represented an extreme version of a person brought up in Ottoman harem. She was completely cold and almost entirely devoid of human emotions, save in some scenes with her children or her sadness upon Ibrahim preferring other concubines. She was truly unscrupulous and desperate to get to the highest top aka becoming regent for her son, which meant he had to become padişah while he was still a minor. She truly wanted to have it all, even if she had a lot compared to other harem girls – she was a chief haseki with high position given to her by her mother-in-law, who truly treated her exceptionally compared to other Valides we saw – she shared her power with her, taught her political stuff and introduced her to political world, involving her in her own affairs and even taking her to secret councils with her. Kösem was undoubtedly aware that  in light of Ibrahim’s illness she had to keep the mother of eldest prince satisifed&feeling safe because padişah like Ibrahim was an easy target for deposition. Not only Turhan had safe position due to seniority succession rules – Kösem clearly supported her and wanted her to be her successor, e.g. backed her up in the Zarife conflict. Yes, Ibrahim had other favourites, but he was a weak sultan and he wasn’t interested in this stuff at all – he just wanted to have fun with other girls and ignored Turhan, but he wasn’t politically involved enough to try to prevent Turhan from becoming next Valide because he simply didn’t give a damn most of the time.

Turhan’s going against Kösem was a huge & risky gamble, also for her son.  It’s one thing to never trust anyone fully and be on your guard, and another to go on removing everyone, so whole rule is in your hands. While we know that relations between Ibrahim&Turhan were tense, there wasn’t any repeated pattern of abuse against her or their son – Ibrahim’s outburst and throwing Mehmed justifiably shook Turhan up, but it was clear it was one-time incident that stemmed more from Ibrahim’s illness than any sort of malice or sadism. He mostly simply ignored Turhan and didn’t want to spend time in her company. Perhaps Ibrahim being a weak padişah was also why Turhan looked at him with contempt because she couldn’t accept how this man stood higher in hierarchy than her, which wounded her pride additionally. Thus said, if her primary motive had been as she said fear of Ibrahim, I don’t think she would have gone against Kösem. Kösem was after all the person who defended her to Ibrahim, tried to calm him down with regards to Turhan and she obviously supported Turhan as next Valide. Additionally, when Kösem actually controlled Ibrahim and his behaviour – later Atike didn’t care, people who were trying to use him and make him crazier for their purposes achieved their goal. Turhan purposefully wanted to make him crazier and crazier to dethrone him and now she was in the palace without her biggest former supporter. Ibrahim was definitely in far worse mental condition after Kösem’s exile and Kemankeş’ removal. We got the taste of the danger when Ibrahim threatened to strangle Mehmed during the coup – and then we finally saw fear in Turhan’s eyes. But it was she who allowed the situation to boil down to this. Turhan’s backstabbing to Kösem wasn’t only a betrayal to a person who always supported her&did a lot to her (and it was something even Ibrahim highlighted after Kemankeş’ “execution” and since he also had beef with his mother at that point, it’s hard to take his words as biased), but also her sacrificing whole nation due to striving to make Ibrahim’s reign fail so much that he would be undoubtedly deposed.

Turhan’s final win isn’t so much a triumph of very well-thought-out long-term strategy, but luck, totally unscrupulous nature, not taking into account that any bystanders might be harmed, and Kösem making a fatal mistake in the end. Until the last stand, Kösem always managed to ultimately outsmart her, and Turhan’s final victory is only due to raw force, Kösem making a fatal mistake&Kuşçu’s betrayal for reasons Kösem didn’t deserve.

 In the end, Turhan and her people represented raw power which adheres to no rules or honour. Not only did they kill so many  innocent people, but also showed no rules in the final stand – Kösem is strangled on the harem floor and her body is plundered (a historical fact, sadly), and Turhan only stays on balcony with devilish smile over the slaughtered palace. Köprülü does not face the elderly Kemankeş himself, but waits until his people defeat him to slice his throat. Haci is also murdered in unnecessarily cruel way by having his neck twisted in front of Tuhan bearing her stone cold face as she usually does. Turhan was presented as pretty much extreme product of that system – someone who is always coldly calculating, showing little human emotions (maybe only towards her kids) and only focused on achieving one’s goal without any scruples, and is unable to bond with anyone other than her kids. Same with people surrounding her, there are no strong, touching & genuine relationships like in Kösem’s team, which is based on loyalty that may mean even paying with death for it. There’s strong friendship between Haci & Kösem, same with Kemankeş and Deli Hüseyin, Kösem and Kemankeş deeply and truly love each other until the end, Hüseyin also prefers to die than to support Turhan. Even Lalezar’s “betrayal” is only about not letting an innocent child die, not wanting to support Turhan or switch sides for her personal gain. In a way, Turhan functions as some symbol of end of Empire, same with the depressing final shots, which is also accentuated in Kösem’s final monologue: ‘The lights have gone out, no right, no left, no death, no back, no forward, no top, no bottom (…) ” . I can see the rationale – it was first and foremost Kösem’s story, moreover a story that needed to be abridged.

However, as I said, Turhan is a real-life historical figure that actually did good things for the Empire, continued Kösem’s legacy and had her achievements, that’s why historical Turhan can never be simply a destructive force in my mind, and it’s probably the highest divergence between historical figure and show figure I have in my mind as far as MY&MYK are concerned.

We see some glimpses of Turhan actually taking her responsibilities seriously in the final episode – she decides to spare Mehmed’s brothers (which actually serves pretty much as plot twist taking into account how her character has been portrayed) and declares she intends to take care of the state. Ironically, while Kösem paid for politically training Turhan & introducing her to political world with her life, at least even her ultimate enemy wanted to honour her legacy & obey anti-fratricide law & was prepared for ruling. It was a posthumous win for Kösem here.

Of course the way historical Turhan took power from Kösem was questionable – it was full of brutality, purges, and it’s hard to imagine it was all without knowledge of her and her closest associates. /Still we know that Turhan likely didn’t kill harem girls that served Kösem, but got them married off instead as Kumrular writes in her Kösem biography/. However, she also proved capable in taking care of state and dynasty and since Mehmed was pretty much an obedient momma’s boy, she had much easier task than Kösem to for example persuade him not to kill his brothers.. honestly, try to control someone like Murad, it was a huge success Kösem managed to save Ibrahim.

I think that the portrayal of Turhan and her people may stem from not only brutal purges that followed Kösem’s death, but also from the period after Turhan appointed Köprülü the Grand Vizier – Peirce compares some of his methods to Murad’s and this period to Murad’s reign. While it was Köprülü who used bloody methods, we can guess that Turhan would have not let him stay GV if she had not accepted it. It is curious how Turhan/Murad emerged a pretty popular crackship in MYK… I was always like “they gave us Turhan who seems like a perfect match for Murad”.. just that her ruthlessness does not stem from anger, but more from cold detachment (fire and ice LMAO). I know some like to refer to Turhan as “Iron Lady”, so I suppose it was  what MYK creators intended. /There is of course some anger in her too - when Ibrahim told her that she was just a coward hiding under his mother’s skirts… you just knew she would NEVER let it slide and prove to him & the rest of the world she didn’t need Kösem to stay on top./

The more I think the more I’d really love to see Müge Boz as Turhan, since Turhan wasdescribed as pretty unassuming and that was also why she was able to rally supporters. It would be cool to see Kösem facing a girl looking like young her, but not innocent… yet using her innocent image. And again we should have seen more of her showing care for state. I’m actually glad we didn’t get the simple Kösem turns into Safye and encounters an innocent Anastasia that we all expected. Now I think we needed something more complex, and as I mentioned it Kösem truly didn’t turn into Safiye, while many of Turhan’s actions (like mass slaughter in harem) resemble Safiye more – yet later her son is truly in danger, so there’s some rationale in that and we see some of Kösem’s legacy in her declaration to spare Mehmed’s brothers and take care of the state. 

Likely it was intentional to make Turhan so much like the opposite of innocent Nasya.

But in the end, while there are hints of Kösem legacy being preserved (Turhan clearly wants to obey anti-fratricide law), Turhan pretty much served as a symbol of future fall of Empire because the final images of slaughtered people and her smirking on balcony in her slay kween (pretty pretentious) attire, accompanied by the above mentioned monologue, pretty much give a glimpse of apocalypse. /And LBR she claimed she had started the whole conflict for her son… then why the fuck she stands shouting to “bend the knee or die” & “show no mercy” or grins on the balcony instead of sitting with her son or at least checking up on him?/

It’s kinda fitting end for Kösem story, where she was the protagonist, especially when we see how yellow filter & fairytale elements from first episodes of MYK (which gradually become less bright) to the total darkness and atmosphere of doom of final episode. Still, as I said, Turhan Sultan is a historical figure that deserves more.

In a way, we were by default robbed of a satisfying depiction of Turhan by the mere fact that Ibrahim’s regin was abridged to 4 episodes – we should have got her early days in harem, her growing up etc., but I think at this point I decided to stop crying over spilt milk, I think, even though the mere fact that some fake princess got 22 episodes and Turhan 4 is always gonna hurt.

- Joanna

[jadedjo]

Director's commentary for I Get Off!

Good choice Anon!

I’ve said before that I never intended to write this story. It started out as just a way to showcase the difference in how Luke and Mara notice each other's feet. Mara noticed Luke’s bare toes and I wanted Luke to notice the opposite about Mara, her feet in shoes, but sexy.

And while I could never wear the boots described in the story doesn’t mean I don’t have a bit of a boot fetish. I love boots. All kinds. So I gave Mara a pair of ultra sexy��‘fuck me’ boots.

And that was supposed to be that. Until it wasn’t. Until the ‘fuck me’ boots screamed for Luke to fuck his wife and would NOT shut up. Egged on by @myevilmouse for some leather-clad Luke and I wrote the basis of the story in a week or so. I wanted Luke and Mara to have some fun. While hurt/comfort sex has its place, angry sex and make-up sex can be hawt, I tend to want L/M to be happy and in love and sexy times with a partner you love and trust is a lot of fun.

From a technical standpoint this is the only fic that I have written in the present tense. I wanted to bring the reader into the light dom play and have the action be in the moment. I also wanted to add in some personal headcanons I have about Luke’s artificial hand. I have a whole backstory about it and try to sprinkle in little bits when I can. Add in experimenting with Dom/sub play and this fic took shape.

I think I remember more about writing this fic than most of my others because, as I was writing it, my eyes decided to change prescription on me (it happens within a months time for me). I have TERRIBLE eyesight. While waiting for an eye doctor appointment I was trying to edit this fic so as not to lose the momentum. As a result, my nose was literally glued to the computer screen so as to see the words and not have them be at a stupid large font. Unfortunately, this resulted in massive headaches and eye strain and I was forced to put the fic aside till I got my new prescription.

When you want to write but have no words is hard, but when you want to write and have all the words but still can't write is even harder!

Once I had a new prescription and the fic was done, I almost didn’t post it. Even though my beta said it was great and hawt and worthy of posting I hesitated. This was my first full PWP. But why go to all the effort of writing and not sharing? So I made a dummy AO3 account and was going to post it to there. But after I made the account I said to myself.... So what if you wrote porn? I was proud of the story so why hide it under a different username?

Boy am I glad I listened to myself. This is my most popular Star Wars Fic and my 3rd most popular of all fandoms. 

In fact, this fic will be getting a prequel of sorts if I can find the time this year. @myevilmouse has started a BlowJob challenge to get Luke Skywalker 12 BJs in 12 months. So I will be taking the line from I Get Off “Even the one time he fingered her in an empty corridor on Yavin IV...” and turning it into a fic complete with a Jedi Master getting a BJ.

Now if I could just stop time, speed up the harvest, and teleport me off this rock.....

If anyone wants to know about any of my other fics, just ask! :D

[letstalksymphogear]

Symphogear, EP.4

Last time on Beverly Hills 90210!

Hibiki begins to understand the true nature of the Sam Reimi Spiderman trilogy as she lives the life of a superhero by night and a normal student by day in the most miserable way possible. Constant cockblocking from the duties she explicitly chose to do distance her from her significant other Miku, as it drives wedges into their friendlationship. As Hibiki breaks off a plan prepped weeks in advance to see rocks fall from the sky, she takes out her frustration on the local Kamen Rider villian rejects before coming up to see Tsubasa, only to be greeted by a new face...

Let us continue!

As the situation tenses between the three gi- hey! Hey, wait a minute! This is a flashback! That’s no fair. You’re just going to throw this to us while we’re trying to do this stuff? Get it together, show.

The show hauls our asses to a flashback, because God knows we needed one right now. It’s not just any flashback, though. It’s a flashback of our favorite redhead, Kanade!

In a straightjacket.

While everyone is staring.

“i dont usually do this but you’ve got a bad case of catch-these-handsitis”

“oh god, she’s so wild, and angry... i... why am i hoping she’s single...?”

“aye. this is the fate of all rabiosexuals out there.”

Kanade is tied down because she’s the sole survivor of a Noise attack, and more importantly, she really, really wants to fight the Noise. What she doesn’t know is that she is potentially a new candidate for a Symphogear relic.

“oh... we’d pair so well... our colors are diametrically opposed...”

“GIMMIE A FUCKING GUN AND A TEN PIECE CHICKEN MCNUGGET MEAL YOU GUY FIERI LOOKING ASSHOLE”

Genjuro, who suffers from Compulsive Child Adopting Syndrome (CCAS), immediately comes to the conclusion to adopt this tiny gremlin. It helps that her parents are, well, dead.

Fatherly instincts vibrating intensely.

Genjuro talks to this small child, who is currently 99% anger and 1% chicken fluff, scanning their conviction towards working to the goal of fighting the Noise.

In retrospect, his methods are a bit weird. Feeding into the extreme edginess of a 14 year old scorned isn’t exactly the best thing in the world. Unfortunately, as we established before, the only thing that can fight Noise are Symphogear, and the only reason he’s not in the front lines is because he can’t wield one.

Kanade naturally obliges this deal, her braincells having long since perished alongside her parents. Then Perish indeed, Kanade.

“buddy im being trained as a samurai in modern times and i still could not fathom going as hard as you”

The pact is sealed. The child is adopted. Genjuro’s adoption addiction relapses, and he’s going to have quite a long talk at AA (Adopters Anonymous).

The thing about Genjuro that makes him an interesting character is that he actually really, really, really hates the idea of having to pit children in fighting these horrible threats. Unlike a lot of male characters who have a strong sense of manliness but a poorly written way of expressing it, Genjuro manages to be a compassionate person in the face of all this terribleness. He’s the only person to think about throwing parties for these girls, and trying to give them any sort of sense of happiness and normalcy to their lives, now changed forever by machinations he has been put in charge of. He’s the Anti-Gendo. He doesn’t tell Shinji to get in the robot. He makes sure Shinji is well enough to be in the robot, and would never do so otherwise, knowing the mental toll.

That’s why ultimately, he is The Dad.

So, with that in mind, they prep Kanade to recieve the relic assigned to her. One of the major elements of using relics is compatibility. Kanade is not naturally compatible to Gungnir; they have to slowly ease her into it.

“mumble mumble cant wait to kick their asses mumble mumble”

This is a process that takes years. The show doesn’t do well in showing this, but it takes many, many years for her to be compatible after endless medical examinations and controlled situations.

The experiments, naturally, hurt like a bitch to boot.

“genjuro she’ll be okay, right?”

“flip a coin on it, tsubasa”

“oh shit yall see this news? pornhubs gonna buy tumblr! damn, i can make an all in one profile now.”

When you’re forced to watch your newly adopted daughter torture herself to be compatible with an ancient, musty cursed relic.

After all that, Kanade still isn’t compatible. Of course, nothing is simple with Kanade. You may ask yourself, “Why did Genjuro have to tie up Kanade in a straitjacket? That seems pretty abusive.”

Simply put, it’s because Kanade has never fucked around in any second of her life, having taken off all the devices on her, taken a direct syringe of the stuff she’s trying to synchronize with, and directly inject it into her, herself.

Fear.

“i am so SICK, and TIRED, of all this namby pamby wimpy ass standard shit. YALL MOTHERFUCKERS THINK I WONT GO FULL THROTTLE?! MY LIFE IS FULL THROTTLE. I! AM! GONNA! GET! SHIT! DONE! TONIGHT! BOYYYYS!”

Tsubasa, likely already going through puberty by this point, simultaneously understands both the concepts of fear and arousal witnessing this near suicidal display of absolute madness immediately.

Holy shit, Kanade.

You know shit’s bad when even Ryoko is afraid.

Turns out, however, that Kanade did the right move in becoming compatible with Gungnir, at a very physically demanding price.

Really, physically demanding.

“shouldnt have had that massive spaghetti carbonara before doing all this shit but fuck i really liked that fuckin’ spaghetti slorp slorp go the sauce ooooooooh god this is bad”

“HAHA IM FINE- IM FINE EVERYONE- THIS- THIS IS JUST THE SPAGHETTI- I HAD BEFORE THE- BEFORE THE PROCEDURE IT’S NOT- IT’S NOT BLOOD I SWEAR- OH I AM FEELING LIGHTHEADED- DON’T WORRY YOUR PRETTY HEADS IM GOOD! OH- OH FUCK-”

The scientists, who have been easily staring at this entire situation for more than 5 minutes or more, have not stepped in to do a single damn thing, as if overpowering a 14 year old to stop her from injecting a dangerous thing that could directly kill her is completely out of their paygrade. Genjuro wakes them the fuck up and likely briefly contemplates firing some of these morons.

“so this is what’s called... getting lost in the sauce...”

The scientists scramble to keep Kanade from vomiting more marinara sauce but Kanade exerts but a mere fraction of her now developing Symphogear abilities, knocking them all out with ease.

“this is some shit right here, damn”

Kanade pulls some Independence Day theatrics on everyone, as a 14 year old on the verge of death typically would if given the opportunity. Death may be certain but you at least get to go out in style. Will Smith would be proud.

The half-life of Tsubasa’s fearousal reached completion as it has mostly decayed into fear at this point.

However, the relic pendant begins glowing. This is likely the one thing that keeps Kanade from dying. An interesting comparison given Hibiki’s own survival and gear manifestation.

Kanade achieves super saiyan.

“THEY ALL SAID I WAS LOST IN THE SAUCE... AND THEY ALL THOUGHT THE SAUCE WAS LOST IN ME. BUT NOW... I AM THE SAUCE!”

Tsubasa’s fear directly transmutes itself back into arousal per the first law of alchemy. Something to note is that Tsubasa was naturally receptive to her own gear; she didn’t need to go through the medical process Kanade went through. It’s because of this that Kanade earns Tsubasa’s admiration for life, even long after she dies.

“THE SAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUCCCEEEEEEEEEE”

And so, the unambiguously gay duo known as Zwei Wing formed. Singers by day...

Noise slayers by night.

Saving the country, singing in the country, bonding together... in the country. Truly, there is no more iconic duo than these two.

“yall sing pretty”

“anyway bye”

Kanade’s initial motivation for getting Gungnir was to kill the Noise indiscriminately with no hesitation. It slowly dawns on her, though, that helping people... is good?

“the sauce lost me. i got lost in the sauce. i became the sauce. but... why don’t i... share, the sauce? because... people like sauce... and i like sauce... and we can bond together... liking sauce!”

Kanade and Tsubasa have a Captain America moment running together as Kanade muses about how singing for other people feels way better than just pure murder funtimes.

“hey, uh... tsubasa... it just hit me. i like sauce. and... you, you like sauce. do... do you want to share sauce together?”

“kanade as your girlfriend ive literally heard you talk about sauce metaphors for the last several years and if you dont think i wont slurp your sauce down without hesitation you’ve got another thing coming”

“hell yeah! ive still got some of my original leftover marinara to share!”

No heterosexual explanation whatsoever.

Not a damn one.

Oh yeah...! Because by shedding tears, the reality you face is...

Nehushtan? Weird end of a sentence, but okay.

We’re thrust back into the present time, present day, as we’re back in our three way throwdown.

Genjuro is an extra large McFuckingPissed with Large Fries and a Shake, supersized.

“you want some sauce with that? lmao, sorry, too soon”

As the werewolves come out in full force, the tension strengthens while a battle brews nearby...

“yall think you’re getting your hands on this goddamn armor without realizing im officiating this here gay pride parade. and guess what? you’re cancelled.”

“didn’t know clowns were part of the acronym, let alone capable of managing it. either way, you’ve gotta be at least this tall to use the armor.” 

“so why not make like a hobbit, drop the armor, and burrow back to whatever hidey hole you came from, bimbo baggins!”

“guess you didnt read the books, moron. last i checked, bilbo doesn’t lose his traveling partners.”

“that low blow only comes at the cost of outing yourself as a fucking nerd.”

“im not ashambed. im gonna blow your mind with some math: my foot, plus your face, subtracting the teeth from your mouth, equals an ass kicking.”

“NOTHING IN THAT FORMULA INVOLVES ANY ASS WHATSOEV-”

Hibiki gets in the way immediately, citing the ethical ramifications of fighting humans as opposed to talking to them, conveniently forgetting this was the same person ready to body her merely an episode or two ago.

“hey first of all please don’t say bimbo thats really degrading, and second of all clowns aren’t actually in the acronym but im sure there are some gay clowns out there so please dont talk like that and thirdly im sorta short and that hurt my feelings and fourthly killing is fucking bad, tsubasa, let us not commit human on human murder”

both of them, in unison, i shit you not:

“yo, you like murder? shit. i like murder too!”

“like oh my god! murder is my favorite hobby. i take it back, you’re chill. still gotta die, though.”

Hibiki is casually tossed aside from this fight, given her very ideas are anti-thetical to fighting as a whole.

A real sick battle ensues.

Something to note is that our spunky opponent has another relic at her disposal which summons Noise. This relic is called Solomon’s cane. You’ll learn more about it later.

Not a pretty sight.

Tsubasa is losing. Not only is she losing, but the enemy cool kid reveals a very notable detail of her plan: She was distracted Tsubasa on purpose. The real plan...

Was to kidnap Hibiki.

In an ironic twist, Tsubasa’s inability to work with her teammate not only put her teammate in danger, but explicitly allowed her opponent to fulfill her mission of trying to capture her.

“i changed my mind kick her ass please oh god”

Hibiki still has not learned her lesson.

Tsubasa gets her ass kicked. Her opponent pulls every punch in the book, with some lowdown dirty fighting.

Unfortunately, Tsubasa, having learned from the Kanade Amou Private School Of No Brain Cell Combat, she pulls the last ace from her sleeve.

“lmao bitch whatre you gonna do, sing?”

“i didnt design my hair like a fucking 8th note for nothing, you cabbage patch kid”

“then let’s hear it, motherfucker.”

[xuune]

some thoughts on s7

this ended up me kind of rambling about my thoughts and feelings on s7 that are all over the place, so please bear with me if these thoughts don’t seem too well organized or anything: 

now, before i even actually saw the season, i was just snooping around here on tumblr to see what ppl’s reactions were, and i kind of let it get to the better of me. some people were just over dramatizing what was happening in s7, and their negativity on the season made me believe that i would wholeheartedly dislike the season. i saw all the posts with people going on about how if youre still watching the show, you should immediately drop it (and it was mainly centered around few central complaints going around right now, pretty sure you can figure that out on your own on what that was). it was understandable on where the frustration was stemming from. i only got 3 hours of sleep because of what people were saying despite not even seeing the season for myself and seeing how events would ultimately play out. but like they would always say, you shouldn’t let other people’s judgement affect you, and it really shouldn’t be the determining factor on how you view things or how your opinions are formed. 

when i watched the season, my general reaction to it was that its “ok”, i didn’t think it was entirely and absolutely terrible. i already know how a lot of us didn’t like the way a few characters got treated. i mainly thought that the animation looked nicer and improved in some of the action scenes. the writing was kind of “meh” for me when it came to whatever certain plot points that got introduced or continued. watching it on my own actually removed any thoughts of me disliking/hating the season entirely. 

even though i say this, the things i mention here are mainly about some issues that kept being brought up by people and circled around ever since s7 got released. 

in terms of character development? besides what we’ve been given for hunk, which has been awesome so far (i dont really feel like i have much to go in depth with for this, its already self explanatory in the season itself), i guess its going somewhere. i’ve got some hope, but it’s not on the level where its overwhelmingly high and optimistic. everyone’s been talking about the lack of actual lance development, how he’s constantly being reduced to being the “dumb” one, but we actually see him take initiative when needed. lance has been shown to stepping up and taking his role into account when handed the opportunity to do so, and it was multiple times when lance was given the re-established position of keith’s right-hand man. despite whatever remarks keith made on lance, whether or not they were supposed to come off as teasing/joking for the audience, keith does still seem to believe in lance’s capabilities. if he didn’t, keith wouldn’t have trusted lance the task on leading their team on their mission(s). lance actually got scenes where he could shine off as being portrayed more than what he’s constantly being insulted as. there are still some scenes of them showing mutual trust and respect for each other, especially with lance voting for keith during “the feud” and the reasoning he gave. but yeah, some parts it did seem like keith was kind of ooc in certain episodes when comparing his personality back to s3. who knows why keith gave the reasoning he did when he voted for lance. EDIT: acoolemocucumber’s post makes a good note on pointing out how during the voting section, keith is actually the first one to start writing. it’s later revealed that he chose lance on first pick. lance was the second to finish. even though he was peeking over at hunk and pidge to see who they chose, he instead decides to choose keith. keith choosing lance as a first choice without pure hesitance is amazing to see, and it really shows he trusts and respects lance a lot despite the reasoning he gave. then again, actions speak louder than words and countless times keith has shown to be that kind of guy by relaying a lot of important tasks to lance throughout this season. 

i’ll do say that i enjoyed most of the scenes they shared when they had to take a leading initiative with each other though. that was pretty nice to see again, and it felt like a decade since i ever saw that kind of dynamic from those two. 

there were a lot of action packed scenes, and i watched through those entirely to see if there’s any important plot detail to know, or make note of, while watching the ep to make sure i wouldnt be lost with whats happening so far. some people found it boring, some people found the fight scenes amazing and stunning. certain scenes had me really amazed on how well it was animated, some other scenes not so much in terms of repetition, and thats kind of bound to happen if we’re provided an arc where its continuing to keep the tense vibes on the recurring events with the current situation of the season. 

this is just merely my take on it, (my memory’s not the best with how much information im recalling from those 13 episodes) but it kind of felt lackluster with how the paladins barely got any kind of break where they could seriously spend one episode on unwinding, having in-depth conversations one on one, and not be so worried about the galra all the time. sure, there’s a few scenes like that in a few episodes, but it didn’t seem enough to make it feel like it balanced out whatever conflicts or character issues were newly or constantly introduced. 

ive read posts already about how some people had liked the season a lot, loved the actions scenes and all. but to me, some conflicts that took place seemed out of place or just didn’t really align well (idk how else to phrase it) especially with adam’s death, and i had minor mixed feelings about ep “the journey within”. 

about adam, it just seemed out of place and rushed for them to introduce shiro’s s/o only for them to take him away. we don’t get to see how fleshed out adam could’ve been, and i’ve already seen the frustration/rage people had with adam being killed off when considering how the creators told the viewers that they were gonna get to see adam, but weren’t told how long we’ll see him (plus the entire thing abt lgbt rep that was promised?). the thing with adam left me on a weird note, mainly because if you were just given no other info besides the info from the season, you wouldn’t even be given too explicit information about the relationship shiro had with adam. from there, it felt like there was no point in adding adam into the story if the viewers aren’t given clear information on what kind of bond shiro and adam had besides adam saying that they’ve been through a lot together (or whatever he said, idr it too much) and the “how important am i to you” line for lgbt rep points. its just pretty vague “””representation””” thats just leaving the audience to make the most out of what they’re given. we’re only given confirmation that they used to be fiancés from what they said in panels/interviews, but never in the show. im not sure what to really think about that, my mind’s just kind of in the void when i think about it. but this part i structured kind of badly and i apologize for that, but hopefully those of you can get what im saying. 

as for “the journey within”, it was reasonable for the way characters acted; theyre all tired, frustrated, and losing hope and were floating in space waiting for nothing but at least something to happen. keith snaps, gets irritated at everyone, lance is also the one to lash back out at keith saying keith ran away, giving the audience a big sign that lance was hurt by keith’s disappearance/leave from the team. but for keith to quickly later on go take everything back in just a few minutes seemed really awkward for me. its a kids show and all, but i just kind of didn’t like how that one section of that episode was written ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just a feeling i had with it. however, i did love how hunk took a lot of the initiative during the episode, it’s showing his growth of actually him continuing to fully accept his role as a paladin and determined to not back down regardless of his own cowardice that could prevent him from doing so at any time.  

and there’s the thing about k/acx: ive already seen a bunch of people going somewhere along the lines of disbelief, anger, frustration on how keith is getting het endgame but when i saw the episodes, his interactions with acxa didn’t even seem borderline romantic to me at all? to me, i merely saw 2 characters actually getting on better terms with each other and returning the favor. the two no longer see each other as enemies but allies now. keith only went back to save acxa because it seemed like he believed that he felt in debt to acxa for trying to save his team. ezor and zethrid merely poked fun at acxa, but if you consider previous seasons where acxa and keith interacted, the two just continued to return the favor of owing whatever debt they had for each other. it didn’t seem like there was any romantic tension intended in any of the scenes where they interacted. we already know acxa betrayed ezor and zethrid by switching sides, and if you were betrayed you’re bound to make at least a  remark on whoever betrayed you either way. in this case, ezor and zethrid found it reasonable to make a comment on acxa’s alliance with keith, hence how they teased acxa possibly crushing on keith (whether or not thats actually confirmed, its just left ambiguous and up for interpretation at that point). there’s the parallel with how they animated the shot between keith and acxa talking to each other, but neither did that one seem romantic to me? i hope im not the only one who thought that? the other scene people talked about was when acxa is in the same scene where keith was present when he visits his dad’s grave with krolia. i dont get why some people were upset about that either. even though its at the last ep of s7, there’s nothing to imply that keith invited acxa to go visit his dad’s grave with him or anything if you consider their placement in the scene. if keith did care about acxa’s presence being there when he visited the grave, wouldn’t he at least acknowledge acxa’s presence by showing obvious attention to her, or have her close to where him and krolia were? she remains distant but respectful of keith in the scene. i dont see where these scenes would imply keith automatically finds a romantic interest in acxa. acxa to keith? maybe, we don’t entirely know. keith to acxa? i dont see it being implied anywhere at all. not to mention keith’s “can’t we just fight” statement right after ezor and zethrid teased acxa about having a romantic interest in keith. again, its just my take on what’s being presented and my own thoughts on how people are viewing it. 

and with a/l, it leaves me on a bad note with how its progressing if its really getting the sealed deal endgame. like most people have been saying, it would be good for them to be endgame if they were only written better. am i entirely convinced theyre endgame? not really because there’s that small chance where vld pulls a 180 and the show creators stay true to their words on lance not being a rebound, lance being someone’s first choice, lance getting what he needs, not what he wants. what’s being given/presented so far is just bad writing with how allura suddenly reciprocates feelings for lance out of nowhere despite showing consistent disinterest in lance’s advances in previous seasons. s4 and onward we see her seeing lance more than just an annoying flirt, and the two become better friends who could genuinely talk to each other without having allura annoyed with lance’s flirtatious antics, and without lance being reduced to a constant flirt. during allura’s interest in lotor, we’re yet again presented how allura doesn’t return feelings for lance, especially during the scene when the mice told her about lance’s feelings for her back in s6. she seems rather disappointed, pitiful, or uncomfortable with knowing how lance genuinely liked her when she liked lotor during that time. later on, allura’s been out of her previous love interest with lotor, and hasn’t shown returned much of the same interest in lance. sure, she hugged lance and he returned the hug, but that only seemed necessary in the moment for when allura had felt betrayed by someone she wholeheartedly trusted and fell in love with. she needed comfort from someone and the person she spoke to was lance who was able to lend her some comforting words. but that was about it. i’d like to say that considering that this is a kids show, it does give a bad incentive for children to develop on believing that if they continue to force their feelings onto someone else, the person they’re interested in will eventually like them back out of the blue, which is the worst course of action to take despite being rejected countless times (and its kind of being shown with what a/l has right now). to take this kind of scenario and to fix/put it with good writing would to just properly depict lance accepting rejection and allura staying true to her previous feelings on not reciprocating his feelings. in a general sense, we all know that we can’t always get what we want, and that’s an important moral that always gets taught over and over again even if youre a child or an adult. rejection and acceptance of the rejection is something that can be taught here through the romantic subplot they’ve been having. just deciding that they should become endgame out of nowhere would leave the writing very dull. having allura get out of her previous love interest with lotor only to quickly move onto lance just doesn’t leave off on a good note. it just reduces lance to a rebound and that’s about it. 

the writing for me wasn’t really that breathtaking, overwhelming, or emotional or anything when it came to new plot points being presented (you know, all the fight scenes, galaxy garrison, that stuff). again, a lot of things seemed pretty rushed, i had mixed feelings for some but not all episodes. it was nice to see mostly everyone united back with their families and characters developing new motives for what they believe in doing. yet, the writing kind of just wasn’t on the level of where it actually gets me really interested and invested into the storyline like how it had back in s1 to early s3. i’ll still mention how the writing did it’s part in presenting development for hunk, though. i enjoyed that a lot.  

some parts of the writing were questionable, some parts of the season were enjoyable, but it wasn’t entirely overwhelmingly disappointing for me. the season was on the bare minimum on having the writing go “decent”, but again it felt pretty “meh” and this is just my own feelings on it. people have their own opinions, frustrations, concerns, questions, some people loved it, some people severely hated it or just felt extremely disappointed. 

the season has its peaks and lows, some pros and cons, but whatever you take from it is what you believe. 

i’ll still keep watching the show to see how it ends, that’s for sure. 

[txnysheart]

let’s get on with living (while we can) [7]

chapter 7: i intend to hold you for the longest time

word count: 6815

warnings: chemo, chemo side effects, homophobia

summary: the press start speculating about steve and tony’s absence from the public, peter goes through his second round of chemo, and there’s a press conference

read on ao3: x

playlist: x

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 8 - chapter 9

series masterlist | masterlist

━━━━━━━━

ARE THE SUPERHERO HUSBANDS RETIRING? - Originally Posted on 29 Oct 2017, at 19:57

Sierra Nelson BuzzFeed Staff - Tony and Steve Stark-Rogers not making any public appearances for the past three and a half weeks has, understandably, started a flow of rumors. Avid fans have theorized everything from holidays to assassinations. However, the most popular theory is that this is the end of their careers as superheroes and the beginning of a comfortable retirement.

Tony is over halfway through his forties - I know, we can’t believe it either - and Steve will be an entire century old next year. The superhero business is a very dangerous and taxing one, so it would be understandable that they’d want to quit now, after all these years of risking their lives to keep civilians safe.

As much as they’ve earned a it, saving the world and whatnot, there are a few things that just don’t add up with the retirement theory.

First of all, they haven’t made any public statements about it. They were not part of the fight that took place right outside New York City two days ago. Only Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, James Rhodes and Sam Wilson were present. People were, and still are, expecting an explanation as to why neither Tony or Steve Stark-Rogers were on the scene, but so far; nothing.

Another point that has been made is that their teenage son, Peter Stark-Rogers, has also been absent from the public for just as long as his parents. While not much is known about the boy, we all know seeing him out with his dads, or other Avengers, is a common occurrence, as well as seeing him outside the tower as he heads to and returns from school. This has led some to believe that they could have moved to a more remote city no one has figured out where is yet, since Peter would obviously have to attend school somewhere.

Something many have suggested is that this is nothing more than a successful attempt at a secret vacation. After the incident two years ago where the paparazzi figured out the address of their holiday home in Malibu, it would make perfect sense for them to do their best to keep their travel plans private. No one will ever forget the iconic video of the couple telling the paparazzi off rather aggressively. Rightfully so, as they had snuck into the backyard, spooking their then 14-year old son who had been out there by himself.

So, the questions are many. Have we seen the last of Iron Man and Captain America in action? Are they on vacation? Are they just keeping a low profile? Or is something else going on?

Peter had just been scrolling on his phone, but handed it over to Tony when he saw the article. Tony held the phone in his left hand - he’d finally gotten the cast off the previous day.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha asked suspiciously as she eyed Tony’s skeptical expression.

“Press is speculating about why Steve and I haven’t been seen in public for a while,” he sighed, handing the phone over to Steve.

“What’s it say?” Sam asked, leaning forward. Everyone else was listening now too.

Bucky, Natasha, Sam, Pepper, Rhodey and Happy were all spending the day with Peter, Tony and Steve, seeing as the second round of chemo would begin the next day. They often popped in for short visits, but Steve had invited everyone over for dinner to take Peter’s mind off of things. By things, he really meant chemo.

“Just theories about why no one’s seen us. Looks like it’s tied between retirement and secret vacation,” Tony told them.

“Secret vacation would make sense, though. I mean, after what happened in Malibu,” Rhodey commented.

“A repeat of that, and I might actually kill the paparazzi this time,” Tony muttered, not forgetting how much they’d scared Peter anytime soon.

“That makes two of us,” Steve agreed with raised eyebrows and slightly tense body language.

“Yeah, that was… not fun,” the boy agreed, a tad bit uncomfortable thinking back to the event, and adjusted his beanie. He was rarely seen without it now.

“Quite the understatement, kid,” Steve commented when he gave him his phone back.

“Can I see that, Peter?” Pepper asked, already planning out an approach to this in her head. “Thanks,” she smiled when he gave her the phone. Reading over the article swiftly, she soon handed it back, and straightened up, suddenly looking very professional.

“Alright, what we need to do is to make some sort of public announcement, or they’ll just keep on speculating. I’m thinking a small press conference where I choose who get to be there so we know that whoever’s there are serious reporters. No tabloids, no people who’ve written or spoken negatively about you before, etcetera,” she suggested, but knew everyone would agree.

“You’re the expert when it comes to this. Sounds very good, Pep,” Tony approved.

“But what do we tell them? How specific are we?” Steve asked to clarify.

“We don’t lie, but they don’t need all the details,” she continued, and then made eye contact with Peter. “And you’re old enough to be part of deciding how much you want the press knowing. If you want them to know what’s going on with you, that’s okay, but we could also just tell them that there’s a personal emergency. They don’t need to know everything right now.”

“Yeah… Yeah, that last option sounds good,” Peter decided hesitantly. Pepper knew that they’d eventually have to come clean about what was happening, but didn’t say it out loud.

“Who’s gonna be holding the press conference?” Bucky asked. He was leaning back in the couch, arms crossed. Natasha was sitting next to him, cross legged, one knee resting on his thigh.

“Would you two do it?” Pepper asked Tony and Steve, who both nodded.

“Definitely,” Steve confirmed, then looking down at a tense Peter next to him. “You don’t have to be there,” he assured him.

“Good,” he breathed out, not at all fond of crowds. Especially not ones where he would be the center of attention.

“I’ll arrange it for Tuesday,” Pepper said, looking around the room to see if anyone disagreed. Tony shook his head.

“That would be great, but… chemo’s Monday through Wednesday. We can’t leave Peter.” The boy squirmed at his Dad’s words, feeling like a bother.

“Oh, god. Sorry. I- Sorry, it completely slipped my mind for a second,” Pepper apologized, realizing she’d gone full work mode and forgotten about the actual nature of the situation.

“Thursday could work,” Steve suggested. “If someone could look after Pete while we’re gone.”

“I’m not a baby,” Peter protested lazily.

“No, but you’re not gonna be feeling well,” Tony told him, even though he knew Peter knew.

“Right.” He looked uncomfortable at the thought. He’d rather forget about it for as long as he could.

“We’re watching the press conference together, obviously, so we’ll all be here with him,” Natasha said, as if stating the obvious.

Peter was relieved, but also a bit reluctant to let them see him at his worst. Even if it would only be for an hour or so, it could turn out to be just when he’s puking his insides out. He wasn’t keen on anyone having to be there for that.

“Good. Good, thank you,” Tony smiled. How he’d ended up with such great friends, he’d never understand. Natasha sent him a half smile, a little put off by the way he was acting. The snarky, sarcastic Tony had faded away rapidly the past few weeks, and the change was kind of unnerving. She’d kill for a ‘thank you’ packed into a joke at her expense. There’d never been any doubt that Tony cared about his family and friends more than anything. But he’d always shown it in his own distinct way. Not like this.

“Sure. Anytime.”

────────

“You’ve lost some weight, Peter,” Doctor Anne Reynolds said, her face expressing gentle concern when he stepped off the scale. Before each round of chemotherapy, he had to go through a few standard tests; a scan of his lungs, a physical examination, and a weighing.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Peter said sheepishly.

“It’s alright, I know it’s difficult to eat. What kind of foods have you had?”

“Uhm, it- it hasn’t been very varied,” he chuckled. “I’ve had a lot of smoothies and milkshakes. And pancakes and, uh… soggy corn flakes.”

“You’d be surprised how many people’s go-to food is soggy cereal,” Anne smiled reassuringly, writing down what he told her. “Well, everything is set. I’ll give you more antinausea drugs this time, that sound good?”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

After a last minute trip to the toilet, he settled in the same comfortable chair he sat in last time. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like this part,” Anne apologized when she saw Peter squeezing his eyes shut at the sight of the IV. “You’re lucky you’ve got good veins, so I don’t have to stab you five times to get it right.” That got a slight laugh out of the boy. “There. All done!”

He relaxed his tense body, leaning back in the chair. “Bring on the drugs,” he smirked playfully, trying to hide how nervous he was. The first time he’d been scared because it was all new. He didn’t know what to expect, other than it being not nice. This time he was scared because he knew what it’d be like: very not nice. Maybe even less nice than last time.

With even more antinausea medication than the first time, he became really drowsy, curling up into a ball. Steve and Tony spoke softly to him, and by the time he was switched over to the chemo drugs, he was half asleep. He fell asleep shortly after, and was only really awake to drink water. When awake, he recognized the warm sensation murmuring in his body that Anne had explained was completely normal, and nothing to worry about. It was constant, almost buzzing, and even though he’d describe it as warm, he still felt cold. He was wrapped up in a thick duvet, and was, as always nowadays, wearing his beanie.

It was Steve who woke him up when it was time to move to the bedroom. He blinked tiredly up at him. God, he looked so young. “We’re just gonna move to bed, and then you can go back to sleep,” he explained, putting an arm behind his back to gently push him to sit up properly. “And Dad has pills for you that’s gonna help even more with the nausea later.”

“Mhm,” Peter acknowledged, stretching his legs out; they were pretty stiff after being curled up for hours.

“You good to walk?” Steve asked just to be sure.

“Mhm. Yeah, I’m good,” he yawned as he planted his sock-clad feet on the ground. “Where’s Dad?”

“In the bedroom,” Steve told him with a smile. Peter was adorable when he was tired. Shuffling his feet, he eventually made it there, Tony ready by the bed to tuck him in.

“You just go back to sleep,” Tony whispered, making sure the boy was comfortable, and kissed his forehead. With closed eyes, Peter reached one hand up to pull his beanie off, dropping it next to his pillow before dozing off.

Biting his cheek, Tony held back tears with a slight grimace on his face. It was so obvious - too obvious - now how sick Peter was, and he hated thinking about it so much. He absolutely despised it. Still, he couldn’t stop looking at him. His son. His only son. Probably the only child he’d ever have. And that was more than enough - he didn’t need anyone else. Peter was all he wanted. All he could ever wish for, and so much more.

I won’t ask why, he reminded himself.

“You okay?” Steve asked quietly, observing his husband. Tony shook his head.

“No.”

“Me neither.” Steve tugged at his hand, making him turn around so he could see his face properly. He didn’t like the hazy look in his eyes. “Don’t go,” he pleaded, voice so full of emotion, yet so quiet. His fingers danced over Tony’s cheekbone.

“I won’t. I’m right here.” Even though he was whispering, it was clear that he was sincere. And determined not to dissociate again. Steve was too, and brought him to their bed in the same room. None of them planned on sleeping - Peter could wake up at any given time - but Steve just wanted to hold him. To keep him firmly grounded. Tony let him; letting his husband dominate his senses. They breathed.

Steve hummed a melody Tony only recognized because he’d hummed it to him before. A part of him wanted to ask him what song it was, but he didn’t. If he did, it wouldn’t be special anymore.

The lights were dimmed - dark enough for Peter to sleep undisturbed, but bright enough for his dads to be able to see him. They were both faced towards him, Steve spooning Tony, holding him tightly.

“When he was little, I used to just watch him sleep. I… I didn’t sleep much, so I’d just sit and watch him,” Tony mumbled, eyes never leaving Peter. The way he let his sentence hang in the air told Steve that he wasn’t done talking. He just needed to organize his thoughts. “Always made him look even younger than he is,” he settled on.

“Mhm. Looks like a baby when he sleeps. Even now.” His voice was slightly muffled by Tony’s hair, and he used the opportunity to place a couple of kisses to the back of his husband’s head. Tony reciprocated by bringing Steve’s hand that was resting on his stomach to his lips, leaving feathery kisses on his knuckles, then cradling said hand to his chest.

How much time had passed when a noise from Peter caught their attention, they weren’t sure of, but they were up right away to see if something was wrong. By the time they reached his bedside, he was sitting up.

“Are you gonna be sick?” Steve asked, a hand on his shoulder. The boy’s face scrunched up.

“Not sure. Probably,” he mumbled. His face paled. “Yeah. Definitely.”

Tony grabbed the plastic bucket from right next to the bed, bringing it up to hold under Peter’s chin just in time. As he threw up, tears rolled down his face, and he sobbed whenever he got a break, which in turn had him panicking because he couldn’t catch his breath.

“You gotta breathe, sweetheart,” Steve coaxed when Peter’s throwing up paused for a little while. His breath hitched, making him cough, but he got a good, albeit shaky, deep breath, and it calmed him down a little; stopped his crying. Another deep breath, and then he was heaving into the bucket again, his stomach nearly empty, and then there was only bile coming up. It burned in Peter’s throat.

When nothing was left, Peter was still dry heaving, unable to stop his stomach from spasming, and he was crying again. He absolutely despised that part. It went on for at least a minute, and then he was breathing heavily, feeling exhausted. “I’m done,” he sighed, letting himself be pulled into Steve’s side while Tony went to clean the bucket.

“Honey, will you get him his toothbrush?” Steve called out.

“Sure thing,” Tony confirmed, flushing the contents of the bucket down the toilet.

“How’re you feeling?” Steve asked Peter, voice low and comforting.

“‘m okay. Really tired,” Peter mumbled into his chest, and it was just something about the way that he was slumped against him that made him tighten his grip around the boy and take hold of his legs to carefully hoist him into his lap. “Not a baby,” Peter attempted to protest, but the way he relaxed in his Pops’ arms betrayed his words. His face was pressed into Steve’s shoulder, and Steve was drawing slow circles on his back.

The endearing scene made Tony swoon when he came back into the room with the - now clean - bucket and Peter’s toothbrush.

Not even two minutes later, Peter was tucked back in, having brushed the acidic taste in his mouth away, and he’d swallowed an antinausea pill which he was begging would work.

When he’d dozed off again, the dads were still at his bedside, and Tony lifted his hand up hesitantly. He drew it back, letting it linger in the air. He almost put it back down in his lap, but decided against it, bringing it to Peter’s head.

Ever since they’d shaved his head, Peter hadn’t let anyone touch it, and always wore a beanie in the day. But the way he leaned into the touch even in his sleep, had Tony and Steve smiling. Tony lightly drew figures with his fingers, consumed by the way his son reacted to it; the same way he always had.

The usual feel of his soft curls was gone, and it felt a little strange to caress his son’s bald head, but he still adored it. Anything that’d make Peter feel better, Tony would do, and that was no secret. Steve would too, and was just as captivated at the scene in front of him as his husband.

Quietly scooching his chair closer to Tony’s, he latched onto the arm that wasn’t occupied with Peter, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder.

“Tired, honey?” Tony whispered, turning his head to look down at his husband.

“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbled with a smile, meeting Tony’s eyes for a couple of seconds before looking back down at Peter, content to just sit there watching him. “Love you, Tony,” he whispered.

“Sap,” Tony smirked, but still placed a kiss to the side of his head.

“Sure,” Steve laughed softly, tightening his grip on Tony’s arm a little.

────────

There was a knock on their bedroom door fairly early in the morning. Being the least groggy of the three, Steve got up and opened the door.

“Morning, Doctor. Everything alright?” he smiled politely at Anne who was holding a plastic bag.

“Oh, yeah, all good. I brought something for Peter. Is it okay if I come in for a bit?” she asked cheerily.

“Sure, of course. Pete just woke up.” Steve stepped aside, opening the door wider to let Anne into their room. She always had a smile on her face, and it was contagious.

“Good morning,” Tony greeted her from the chair next to Peter’s bed.

“Hey, Anne,” sounded the boy, giving her a wave. He was sitting up in bed, messing around with his phone.

“Sleep well?” she asked, sitting down in a chair on the other side of the bed. Steve sat down next to Tony.

“Yeah, pretty well. Only woke up a couple times, and fell right back to sleep,” Peter confirmed, pleased with at least feeling rested.

“Threw up?”

“Yeah,” Peter grimaced, “but it’s fine. Less than last time.”

“Well, good. ‘Cause I brought you something.

“Oh?”

“Mhm. You said you hadn’t been eating very varied, right?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, curious as to what she’d brought.

“So, I brought some other foods I think you might like.” The plastic bag she had put down by her feet rustled as she picked it up to put on her lap. “Get that overbed table, would you?” she asked Tony. It was right next to him, against the wall, so he was able to grab it without getting up, wheeling it so it was over Peter’s lap. “Thank you, Tony.” Both men had insisted on being called by their first name, just as Anne had.

First thing she put on the table was a small lidded plastic bowl of fruit salad. “I just brought small samples of everything, ‘cause I’m pretty sure you won’t like even half of it,” she chuckled. “But I think this is a great way to figure out more things you can eat so you don’t grow tired of the same things over and over again.

“Soggy corn flakes is getting a little boring,” Peter admitted.

“Good! Means you’re open to trying some new foods. This fruit salad doesn’t have anything with really strong flavors. Just bananas, pears, watermelon, honeydew and, uh, dragon fruit actually! Looks really exciting, but doesn’t taste much.”

“That sounds good, actually,” the boy smiled, taking the lid off the bowl to taste.

“You don’t have to taste it all now, I’ve got a few more options I’m gonna leave here for you, so no rush,” she explained, receiving a nod from Peter who took an experimental bite of watermelon. All three adults were very pleased when he gave a thumbs up.

“Next up is chicken,” Anne announced, pulling up a rectangle plastic box. “Skinless and boneless, and,” she pulled up another box, “you can have mashed potatoes with it.”

Peter nodded fairly enthusiastically, not even noticing the fact that he’d eaten five entire pieces of fruit. Steve and Tony looked excited at their son eating, and were so very grateful to have a doctor who truly cared about Peter.

“And then the less exciting counterpart to what you’re eating right now.” Another box was placed on the overbed table. “Normal salad. But, you might be surprised, this treatment can change up your tastebuds, so maybe you��ll love it!”

She proceeded to pull up a plain sandwich, applesauce, boiled eggs, scrambled eggs, and even some mints and hard candy. “It can help with nausea,” she explained, sending a sneaky wink in Peter’s direction.

“You’ve got an entire buffet here, kid,” Tony chuckled, looking at all the different foods on the table. “Thank you so much, Anne,” he said sincerely, gratefulness gleaming in his eyes.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she waved away, getting up from the chair. “I’ll get going, but I’ll see you guys in a few hours. Don’t eat it all at once, Peter,” she joked, and walked to the door. Peter laughed, waving at her before she closed the door behind her.

“You really liked that fruit salad, huh?” Steve asked, surprised, but happy to see that there was only one piece of fruit left. It wasn’t a big portion by any means, but Peter evidently enjoyed it.

“Yeah, guess I did,” Peter agreed, just as surprised as Steve when he realized the piece of dragon fruit he just picked up was the last one. He popped it in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed before speaking again. “Don’t think I wanna try anything more right now, though. Can we put it away for later?”

“Sure, I’ll go put it in the fridge,” Tony said, stacking up the boxes so they’d be easy to carry.

While Tony was out of the room, Steve noticed the way Peter kept wringing his hands together quite harshly. “You okay, Petey?” he asked, and Peter looked confused when he met his eyes.

“What?” Steve gestured to his hands. “Oh, my hands just hurt a little.”

“Want me to massage them?”

“Could you?” Peter almost sounded desperate, and Steve furrowed his brows.

“Of course,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And, to him, it was. Peter held out his hands, and Steve took hold of his right one first, kneading it gently. The boy sighed with relief at the feeling, visibly relaxing back into the bed that kept him sitting up. His eyes were closed, and the corner of his lips were curled upwards in a barely-there smile.

Getting back from his trip to the nearby kitchen, Tony looked on from the door for a few seconds, a little lost in how content Peter looked before Steve beckoned him over. “Sit on the other side of him,” he told his husband, and Tony did so. “His hands hurt,” he explained, lifting Peter’s hand up to show Tony he was massaging it.

“Mhm,” Peter confirmed sleepily, and Tony laughed fondly as he reached for his son’s other hand. Both men were happy to keep massaging his hands until they had to get ready for the chemo session of the day.

They’d do anything for him.

────────

Come Wednesday evening, and Peter was back to being absolutely worn out. Him feeling so well at the beginning of the second round on chemo had only been false hope. He’d barely been able to sleep, his bones and muscles had ached, and he’d thrown up a lot. But, he’d become quite fond of fruit, and ate quite a bit of that, to everyone’s relief.

When Tony had gotten the wheelchair from the corner of the bedroom, Peter hadn’t even protested. He just slumped down in it, feeling faint. Tony pushed him about ten feet before Peter shifted uncomfortably. “Wait. Wait, I’m gonna be sick,” he warned, sitting up straighter, and Steve was thankfully able to get the plastic bucket in time. Bags forgotten on the floor, Steve kneeled in front of Peter, while Tony tried soothing him with soft words and comforting touches to the back of his neck.

Leaning back, Peter was out of breath. “Done,” he sighed. “Sorry.”

“I’m about to ban that word, Pete,” Tony smirked, a hand on Peter’s cheek, and was delighted to be rewarded with a laugh. He dried away the tears on Peter’s face, and kissed his forehead.

“That was quick,” Tony commented when Steve was back by his side. He’d gone to rinse the bucket and put it back.

“Met one of the really nice nurses, uh… what’s his name? Tall, with that tattoo.”

“Oh! Uhm, Leonard?”

“That’s it! Yeah, he insisted on taking care of it so I could get back to you guys.”

“Well, that’s very nice of him,” Tony smiled as Steve picked their bags up from the floor. “You know, I could take one of them,” he offered, pushing Peter along, who was half asleep.

“Nonsense. What’s the point of having super strength if I can’t carry all the bags?”

“You’re right. That’s the sole purpose of the serum, obviously.”

“Yeah, you dum-dum.”

“My favorite insult,” Tony snickered. “So clever, babe.”

“You’re the brains. I’m just here for brawn.” Steve was barely containing his laughter, and Tony shook his head as he chuckled.

“So you’re saying you’re the dum-dum?”

“I’ll take it; that’s my own fault for making it too easy.”

“You’re both dum-dums,” Peter mumbled, eliciting surprised laughter from his dads, and earning himself a playful flick to the ear from Tony.

“I suppose we are,” Steve sighed, big smile on his face.

────────

With Tony and Steve having just left for the press conference, Peter was sitting on the couch next to Rhodey, leaning his head on his shoulder. One look at the tired the boy had Rhodey lifting his arm to let Peter rest against his side instead. It was a familiar feeling. Peter had always been a cuddle-bug with the people closest to him, and Rhodey had always been one of those people.

Natasha sat down on the other side of Peter, a bowl full of pieces of fruit in her hand for Peter. He hadn’t had much to eat that day, so Steve and Tony had encouraged them to feed him while they were gone. They even left a list of foods Peter liked, which now consisted of soggy cornflakes, smoothies, milkshakes, pancakes, fruit without too much taste, scrambled eggs, and chicken.

“If you need anything, or if you don’t feel good, you let us know, okay?” Rhodey said, lightly squeezing Peter’s upper arm.

“I’m good for now. But, uh… I should probably have a bucket here in case I need to throw up,” Peter told him, a little embarrassed at the last part, but no one else minded. “There’s one in my room.”

“I’ll go get it,” Bucky offered, getting up from next to Natasha, discreetly caressing her hair as he walked past her. The corners of her mouth lifted at the gesture, and she let her eyes follow him until he was out of the room.

Sam emerged from the kitchen with two smoothies; one for Peter and one for himself. “Here you go, kiddo,” he said, holding one out for Peter, but Rhodey reached out and got it instead. “You better not steal it from him,” Sam teased, and Rhodey put his hands up in a show of innocence when he’d passed it to Peter. He sat down in a lounge chair close to the couch.

When Bucky got back, he put the bucket next to couch, within reach from his place next to Natasha. She mumbled something in Russian that made him smile, and his response had her rolling her eyes fondly.

────────

“And you’re sure you’ve got this?” Pepper asked Tony for the third time.

“Yes, Pep, I’m sure. Don’t worry. Really.”

“Can’t help it. You’ve got quite the history with press conferences,” Pepper smirked, and got a small chuckle from Steve who was adjusting his tie.

“True, but this is about Peter.”

“I know. You two are gonna do great,” she smiled. “I’ll go and introduce you.”

Just as Pepper had said, it was a pretty exclusive press conference, with no more than twenty reporters in the room. Some were with newspapers, while others were with TV channels, so there were a few cameras there ready to capture the event. It was being held in a room in the compound that’d been used for press conferences on several occasions; perfect for it with a stage for everyone to be able to see them.

“Do I look okay?” Steve asked, wanting his husband’s approval before they went on national television.

“Perfect,” he smiled, running one hand down Steve’s chest to straighten his tie. And also just because he could. “Do I?”

“‘Course you do.”

A short kiss was shared before they turned their attention to Pepper, who soon waved them out on stage. “Good luck,” she whispered when she passed them.

They’d planned for Tony to open, so he stood in front of the microphone, leaning his forearms on the podium.

“Thank you, Pepper. Well, as you all know, we’ve been out of the public for a few weeks now. And, no, we haven’t been on holiday. Nor have we been abducted by aliens, or assassinated by the Illuminati,” he joked to set the mood to a light one. “And we’re not retiring either.” When he said that, his breath caught in his throat just a little. He hadn’t given it any thought. The world just might’ve seen the last of Iron Man and Captain America. For them to come back after all this, there’d have to be a miracle.

“But, as of right now, because of a personal emergency, it’s not possible for us to take part in usual Avengers business, or leave the Compound.” Tony took a step to the side to let Steve take over.

“While we’re dealing with this, we can assure you that the safety of the public is in good hands. As you all saw last week, they can manage better than fine without us.” He looked to Tony, wondering if he should say anything more, but he just shrugged. Steve nodded towards the reporters, a silent question of whether they should just open for questions now. Tony approved with his own nod, so Steve addressed them again.

“Any questions?”

A bunch of hands shot up, and Tony picked one out randomly. “You, with the blue and white tie. On the left.”

The man stood up. “Can you tell us who this emergency is about?” he asked.

“Not at the moment, no, just that it’s someone close to us” Steve answered. Short and to the point.

The next reporter was chosen. “How much longer will you be confined to the Compound?”

“We’re not sure. It’ll probably be a good while.”

Another reporter. "Is there a reason you've specifically chosen the Compound?"

"This place has its perks. We also thought it was best to get out of the city."

They kept asking questions, politely attempting to get more information out of them, but with Steve in charge of answering their questions, they got nothing else than the exact amount of information they’d agreed on sharing for now.

In a very out-of-character way - at least to the press - Tony stood to the side in courteous silence. However, one particular question had him taking over the microphone without hesitation.

“There have been rumors that you’ve put your son into the foster care system, is this true?”

“Absolutely not,” he denied firmly, but didn’t want to let him keep the attention, so he looked through the room to pick out the next one, but the same reporter kept talking.

“Wouldn’t that be for the best, though? I mean, with your lifestyles…” he trailed off, gesturing to them, and the room started murmuring.

From the tone of the question, Tony and Steve both had a feeling that he wasn’t talking about them risking their lives on the job, and the smaller man swallowed thickly before speaking into the microphone again. “Because we‘re Avengers?” he still asked, with a disapproving frown and tight jaw, hands clenching down on the podium until his knuckles turned white.

“No, no, it’s just,” he chuckled, but no one else at all were amused, “don’t you think he should get to grow up in a proper family?”

With ice cold eyes, Tony stared at him, doing his best to stay calm. “We are a proper family. I’m not gonna waste my time trying to get through your thick homophobic skull, so just get out.”

“What? Oh, come on-”

“I’m not joking. Leave of your own volition or I’ll have someone remove you.”

He muttered something to himself, a certain slur starting with an ‘f’, as he turned to pack his stuff up, but didn’t take Steve’s enhanced senses into account which were laser-focused on him. The soldier’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief of what he’d just heard that man refer to his husband as.

“Hey!” he called out, away from the microphone, but voice loud enough to carry across the room, catching his attention again. “Don’t you dare call my husband that. Don’t call anyone that,” he warned. "I don't think you understand how offensive that word is." He had a protective hand on Tony’s back who looked slightly confused. Steve cleared his throat, pulling himself together before calmly speaking to the crowd through the microphone. “I think we’ve answered enough questions for today. Thank you all for coming and being so polite. I apologize. Please respect our privacy and don’t speculate any further about our public absence.” He led Tony off the stage to where Pepper was anxiously waiting for them.

“Did he call him… you know-” she began, but refused to say the actual word.

“Yeah,” Steve confirmed, disgust clear in his voice.

“I’m really sorry. This is my fault, I let them send him instead of the person I requested, I’m so sorry-” she rambled, distraught at what had just happened.

“You couldn’t have known,” Tony cut her off, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “The only one here who’s done anything wrong is that nimrod. Not you.”

She sighed, sending them a smile that didn’t really reach her eyes before excusing herself when someone called her over.

Tony held Steve’s hand and looked up at him. “You didn’t have to do that, babe. I didn't even hear it. And I’ve been called worse,” he mumbled, just loud enough for Steve to hear. The look he had in his eyes was one reserved for his husband and no one else.

The words Tony thought would make the situation better only made Steve’s face crumple in disapproval. Not of Tony, but of anyone who’d ever made him feel like that. “That doesn’t make it better. It just makes me feel sure that calling him out was the right thing to do.” He made circles on the back of Tony’s hand with his thumb, lost in his eyes for what seemed like the millionth time. “I’ll always stand up for you.”

“I love you,” Tony whispered, squeezing his hand.

“I love you too.” Steve kissed his forehead.

With them in the room were a few people working, hurrying around, directed by Pepper; none of them really having time to notice the pair’s intimate moment at the edge of the room.

“Let’s get back to Peter,” Steve smiled, pulling Tony by his hand with him to the elevator.

Once the doors closed and they were by themselves, Tony placed his hands on Steve’s chest, and lifted himself up on his toes to whisper into his ear. “That was really hot.” A kiss to his neck and he got back down to his regular height, smirking up at Steve who was sporting an open-mouthed, lopsided smile along with wide, delighted eyes.

He collected himself, walking forward until Tony was trapped between him and the elevator wall. “Yeah?” he asked, voice low and gravelly, pressed up against him; now he was the smug one. Tony might pretend to be offended whenever Steve pointed out how much smaller he was than him, but Steve was very well aware of the fact that Tony actually enjoyed the size difference. A lot.

“Mhm. Now kiss me, we’re only going a few floors up,” a flustered Tony spluttered out, pulling him down before he could say anything more. They fit together as perfectly as ever, and the kissing grew heated within seconds. Hands exploring known territory, soft sounds of approval being swallowed by each other, and then they were startled apart by the ding announcing that they’d reached their floor.

Composing themselves, they felt like teenagers as they walked out of the elevator, heading for their apartment where they knew Peter was waiting along with everyone else. Except Pepper who was still working on getting everything back to normal at the compound after the press conference, and Happy who was doing his job as head of security. Just outside the front door, Steve pulled him in for another kiss, cradling his neck, one arm around his waist. Tony melted into him, and stayed glued to his side even after they pulled away.

Upon opening the door, they could hear everyone talking, and when Peter laughed, it was like nothing else mattered. They just wanted to see him happy.

And he was. His back leaning against Rhodey’s side, the man’s arm resting across his chest, and feet on Natasha’s lap, he was tiredly grinning. Everyone was happy.

Peter noticed that they’d gotten back and his smile got impossibly more radiant.

“Hey, Petey-pie,” Tony laughed softly as he walked over to Peter to place a kiss on the top of his head - well, the beanie.

“Hi, Dad. You guys were great.” He paused as if he suddenly remembered something. “But that guy was such a dick-”

“Oi!”

“-like what does he think this is? The nineteenth century? I’m so tired of people like him spewing bullshit like that. Like what- what does he even get out of it? It's not like-”

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, Pete,” Steve cut him off, kneeling in front of him, before he could work himself up about it. He always did when someone insulted his dads purely based on the fact that they happened to be not straight. “There’s always gonna be people like him. And that’s okay, because we know that he’s wrong. The only reason I got so mad was because of what he called Dad. You're smart, so I assume you’ve figured out what it was?”

“Yeah,” the boy whispered.

“You gotta pick your battles. And, for me, this was one of the ones worth picking. That word just… It stings a lot more than other words. Okay?”

Peter nodded, feeling a little bummed out thanks to that reporter, but Rhodey was there and he was ready to make it better.

“One thing’s for certain, Pete; you sure do have two badass dads,” Rhodey smiled. He looked up at Tony from where he was still confined to the couch by Peter resting against him. They shared a look, one with decades of friendship contained in it. Just a slight lift of one eyebrow, and Tony knew Rhodey was asking him if he was okay. He answered with a crooked smirk.

Peter ended up being carried to bed by Tony after he’d fallen asleep on Rhodey. Making sure he was comfortable, Tony then pulled his beanie off, having gathered that he liked sleeping without it. Steve looked on from where he was sitting on the end of the bed, hand protectively resting over Peter’s legs.

“We need sleep too, you know,” Steve whispered when it looked like Tony was about to grab Peter’s desk chair to settle down in it for the night. Tony paused.

“Yeah,” he admitted, slouching a little, not caring about keeping up appearances for his husband.

He followed Steve voluntarily to their bedroom, intertwining their hands on the way.

Once tucked into bed, Steve stayed awake, humming songs and stroking Tony’s back to help him fall asleep. It took a while, but Steve didn’t mind. He was just happy when his husband started snoring.

Small victories.

[carumens]

expand your literature friday nº1

Author: Ana María Matute

Notable works: Pequeño Teatro (1954), Luciérnagas, eng. Fireflies (1955), Los Hijos Muertos, eng. The Dead Sons (1958), Olvidado Rey Gudú, eng. Forgotten King Gudú (1996).

Obviously, whole theses and analysis could be written about this amazing writer and her work. There will be loads of thing about Los Abel that I would love you guys to know, but that I can’t just include in a Tumblr post. Hopefully, this will be interesting enough to you!

*WARNING. The book I’m going to be talking about has never been translated, so all the quotes and excerpts below have been translated by me.

So, without further ado, proceed and enjoy!

Brief Introduction

Ana María Matute (1925 - 2014) was a Spanish writer and member of the Real Academia Española, which, summing it up, is the insttution that regulates the Spanish language in Spain. It’s a great honor to be a member of the RAE, and she was the third woman in the history of this institution to be conceded a seat in it. She is considered one of the most personal and raw voices of the 20th century in Spanish literature, and one of the best posguerra (which is the period following the Spanish Civil War) novelists. She wrote novels, short stories, children tales and essays. She was considered in 1976 for the Nobel Literature Prize and won numerous literature prices, among which was the Premio Cervantes, the most prestigious literature prize in the Spanish language.

Matute was a professor at university, and she traveled to many cities to give lectures, especially to the US. In her speeches, she talks about emotional changes, the constant changes of the human being and how innocence is never cmpletely lost. She said that although her body was old, her heart was still young.

Here is a small article by The New York Times, published some days after her death in 2014, that contains some more info about her biography and career.

Style

Matute deals with many political, social and moral aspects of Spain during the post-war period. Her prose is lyrical and practical, and she incorporates techniques associated with modernism and surrealism. However, Matute is considered a realist writer. Many of her books deal with the period of life ranging from childhood to adolescence to adulthood.

Matute uses, as a primary resource, pessimism, which, in her novels, often manifests in the form of alienation, hypocrisy, demoralization and malice. About her work, it is said that although the arguments of each of her novels are independent, they are all united by the general theme of Civil War and the portrait of a society dominated by materialism and self-interest.

Also, during the 1940s in Spain, a new literary aesthetic, which came to be known with the name of tremendismo, was born. The main aesthetic features of tremendismo revolve around the experiences of authors during the Civil War, and the misery and insecurity that were characteristic of post-war Spain. Tremendismo is heavily based on pessimistic, determinist and fatalist philosophies; it shows the darkest aspects of life, such as failure and death, and relates them to existentialism. Protagonists of novels belonging to tremendismo are usually marginal beings from the lowest layers of society, with primitive minds and without spiritual values or sensitivity. They often commit errors that lead them to tragic consequences, but they can’t be blamed because it is society that leads them to act that certain way. In this way, the worst part of human beings, highlited by an unfair society, is shown.

Los Abel 

“I have arrived and nobody waits for me, because I have not warned anyone and I do not know anyone. It is difficult to define contours. The town, sunk in the bottom of the valley, is a ghost of violet lividness: like an unfortunate overcrowding of half-ruined hovels.”

Los Abel (1948) was Ana María Matute's first published novel and is, to this day, basically unknown. “Why are you going to talk about a novel that is not even considered her most relevant work?” you may ask. Well, simply because I love it, and it was a major inspiration for both my first poemary and my current WIP, Sunflowers at Night. The publication of this work was considered a literary revelation, a fact that would be confirmed in the successive works presented by its author.

Ana María Matute wrote Los Abel, a work that obtained a brilliant classification in the 1945 Premio Nadal, at the young age of 21. Inspired by the biblical story of Adam and Eve, a reflection of the enviroment after civil strife, it’s the dark story of a family living sad and tormented lives, very few of which escape the climate of anguish and exhaustion. Matute manages to create a tense, passionate and even feral atmosphere.

Plot *(WARNING. Spoilers ahead.)

The story is told in the first person by two different characters. The narrator in chapters I-IV is a young man who returns to a town he visited with his mother when he was a child. In these chapters he remembers his first encounter with the Abel family and then describes the town and the people who live there during his visit. The man rents the old house of the aforementioned family and there he finds the diary of Valba Abel, one of the sisters who lived there. So, the second narrator is Valba, or more precisely, chapters V-XXIX represent her personal diary in which she tells the sad story of her family.

This story takes place in a post-war rural landscape, where the family, formed by the father and his seven children: Oswaldo, Augusto, Tito, Valbanera, Juan Nepomuceno, Octavio and Ovidia — who prefer to be called by the nicknames  Aldo, Gus, Tito, Valba, Juan, Tavi and the youngest simply, the Small One — all with very different personalities. Their mother has died and the father tries to maintain the unity of the family, using their land and house for that. However, life in a poor monotonous rural area  is not enough for young people who show different abilities and have their own interests. Only the older brother, Aldo, is interested in cultivating the land and continuing with the traditional life of their parents: the other siblings want to escape from the village and live in the city.

After some gray and depressive winters, the children leave, one after the other, the orchard of their father, and move to the city. There they try to start new and different lifes, but their destiny takes them back to the village, where two of the brothers, Aldo and Tito, different as day and night, have such serious problems with each other that the first kills the second.

The protagonist

Valba is the representation of the rare girl, a very common protagonist in female post-war novels, who has a lonely character, looks unfeminine to other women and who is looking for her own identity. But in addition to the features that are typical to the rare girl trope, Matute adds to Valba a kind of darkness and depth. The town doctor describes her with the following words: "What deep eyes: a whole world enclosed within. To tell you the truth, I have never seen a look like that. Only sometimes do beggars in ditches have that look, or the hungry. And she looked like a child, with her indecisive hands. She had wolf teeth, hurtful as little daggers.”

After the death of her mother, Valba has to leave her studies in the city and return home, where she has difficulty finding her place among her brothers. She often feels redundant, without a way out and guilty that she lets her life go by without really living it, repeating phrases like: "I felt ridiculous, useless, small" and "I'm tired of not living." Even though she doesn’t like her sitaution, she doesn’t really try to make it better, thus acquiring a typical property of the protagonists in tremendismo.

The few moments of joy in Valba's diary are related to love or with the hope that she would find love. The romantic story with Galo, an artist in the city, offers hope for a happy ending but becomes a failure that destroys Valba's soul and eliminates her optimism for a better future- She feels indifference towards life: "How many hours still extending before me! It is possible that I will still live for many years; what a great tedium youth is, how a great tedium, a whole life still to be traveled, to drag behind me! "  Valba also loses the ability to see love as something pure and beautiful: "I was like the top of a mountain. If I ever loved again, my feeling would drag a chorus of ridicule and parodies."

The violent and extreme situations are typical of tremendismo. In the case of Los Abel it’s not so much about violence as it is about death and intense moments forming a continuous chain during the story. Valba's narrative begins with the death of her mother who leaves her husband and seven children behind, some of them very young, who have to grow up under the harsh guidance of their father. To this event follows the death of the village’s teacher and although no one really cries for him, it is an adversity for the people. Later, Juan gets sick and ends up crippled. Then, when the littlest sister is preparing for her First Communion, the church is burned. A flood follows the fire: the river rises on its banks and threatens to take the house of the Abel with him. But the house, the strongest link in the family, continues in its place, at the foot of the mountains. In these mountains, Valba's father loses his life later on, and this event marks the beginning of the last chapter of the Abel family. Afterwards, there is no unifying force and the brothers who have remained in the village leave their home one after the other.

Matute completes the book with a violent ending. As we mentioned, Aldo, the eldest brother kills Tito, the luckiest brother of the seven. This crime is caused by years of envy and anger that have been growing inside Aldo. When he gets home and sees that Tito, whom his wife loves, is doing successful restructuring in the land of their parents, he can’t tolerate the injustice and shoots him. With this event, Matute uses for the first time the symbol of the Cainism, the known crime of the Bible, very frequent in her later works.

And so, the novel ends with this sublime piece of writing I felt the necessity to share with you guys:

“The two thunderous shots resounded, much more than the whole storm of our flood. The walls trembled and a thousand cries creaked on the stairs. The two bullets sank into that golden flesh, into that chest that always breathed rhythmically. But what revenge was that? What revenge ...? My God, Tito was youth! And I fell to my knees, and with that blood of his that was already sliding between the joints of the mosaics, I wet my face, as if it were a caress. 

This is what I read."

And...

I really hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! If you guys have any questions, please ask me!!!

Leave me your comments and opinions too!

tagging:  @katabasiss @hepiit @medusaswrites @quartzses @the-idiot-who-lose-you @writeblrs @esoteric-eclectic-eccentric  @leopardsnake-stories

[bitronic]

Whats up i need new podcasts i just finished wolf 359 i think that was my 7th podcast

oh gosh i dont listen to as many podcasts as i might let on lol ive only finished a81 and tma (barely) but i just started listening to hello from the hallowoods, which is a horror anthology podcast that focuses on a handful of characters each episode, and the story all starts to slowly come together with each new episode! i find it really interesting and fun, plus im pretty sure most if not all the characters are lgbt+ in some way, which is cool. its presented something like someone reading a chapter book to you, with some nightvale vibes. im also half way into the white vault, a horror podcast abt people going to far off places in the pursuit of science and discovery, but mess around with stuff they dont know anything about and deal heavily with the consequences. the first two seasons follow a team sent to svalbard to repair a telecommunications system, but they get trapped there because of a storm and end up exploring the winding depths beneath the outpost, discovering ruins never before seen. i personally really love the first two seasons, theyre tense and well written. the other seasons deal with exploring other ruins that are found, not in svalbard. its in the style of most fiction podcasts, recordings of the people experiencing the story and you get it through them, with the occasional interruption from the narrator filling in gaps. those are the only two ik working on atm but i hope they interest you (if you havent already heard of them -w-')

[fictionalhell]

Q&A With Aifrit

Overview.

We were given an opportunity to sit down and get a better understanding of who Aifrit is and after having a little fun going over her work we got to asking her a few questions.

The following is a record of the interview held by Zieg, Hail, Astro, and Luie with author Aifrit.

Q: So, we just recently started covering your fanfiction titled “Farronheit” and we where interested in knowing when exactly did you start writing “Farroncest” and why?

A: 2012. I distinctly remember sitting inside a classroom building in my softmore year of college waiting for my next class and was like “fuck I wanna write some Farroncest... but should I even do that? that lowkey sounds kinda immoral ew” because I found the FFXIII Kink Meme and there were some quality kink prompts on there and a handful of Farroncest ones. I remember sometime before even this I read some Farroncest fic about Lightning ravaging Serah in a bathroom during dinner with Snow and I was like “YOOOO THIS IS WHY PEOPLE WRITE THIS SHIP??” I felt so conflicted because I initially was like “why the FUCK would anyone write this ship???”

So then that day in that classroom building I just decided to write it and do it. And thus Bonding was born. Bonding is my first Farroncest fic ever and also my first smut fic ever. Looking back at it now, it’s really awkward to read and I cringe when I see it but I guess we gotta start somewhere huh?

Q: Do you write professionally or just as a hobby?

A: I don’t know if I could ever write professionally. I write too slowly tbh. It takes me ages just to write a couple thousand words if I’m not super in the mood. I do web development professionally, as well as a hobby, but as far as other hobbies? I love art but I never pursued it as much as I did writing because I always saw how bad my art was but it was hard to see how bad my writing was. I do love doing pixel art from time to time. I wanna get better at art and pixel art and I keep telling myself to, but I need to buckle down and actually deal with it, ugh.

Q: I’ve seen your pairing choices for your fanfictions so far but I have to ask, what was your first ship?

A: Definitely Kagome/Sesshoumaru before I even knew what shipping was. Good ol’ FF.net days. Q: You’ve come a long way and in that time you’ve written a good number of pieces. Which one of your works are you most proud of?

A: Blue Dream, the Lanille fic. I really wanted to capture that whole weird, floaty feeling of being high, and that feeling that time passes in like... scenes?? Like you can’t fully remember everything that happens but you get snippets of very specific things you do when you’re out — that’s why the last page or two of paragraphs are broken up so differently than the rest of the fic, like little micro screnes. I had a fucking blast writing that piece and I really hope other people enjoy it as much as I did. There’s a lot more I can say about it, including the minor reference to Final Fantasy IV and my decisions regarding how the smut scene was written. I could go into detail a bit if people cared haha.

Q: So, when you are writing, who or what is your inspiration when you write?

A: I started writing when I was little but I didn’t really have any real inspirations then. I wrote because it was fun to create something from almost nothing. The past few years I’ve had a couple inspirations. One writer from tumblr who wrote Princess Bubblegum/Marceline (Bubbline) fics from Adventure Time. They were EXTREMELY well-written. I mean that person’s just an amazing writer overall. What I loved about their writing was how they wrote in present tense. I don’t think I’d really seen this before and I loved how it made everything seem like it was happening now and not being retold by the narrator. Eventually they wrote less Bubbline, but they also got really annoying with their posting so I unfollowed. Oh well.

 Now I don’t have many inspirations now, but I can say that as far as fanfiction is concerned, I do really wish I could write as well as SapphireSmoke. I haven’t read all her fics, but every one I do read is just so well-crafted and interesting, and the smut is top notch. I’m always fascinated every time I read a fic (they’re so long tho!).

 Q: I understand you are currently on a hiatus, but what can we expect when you make your return to writing?

A: So the biggest reason why I’m on hiatus is because I have no motivation due to a variety of things (adulting, breakup, etc). I also haven’t felt very great about my writing for a long time and I’m trying to take a break to maybe regain some confidence. In any case, there’s a lot of stuff I wanna write when I start back up. I’ve been on a serious Doki Doki Literature Club kick. Love the idea of Monika trying to be the perfect girlfriend for the Player character, and I’d love to see them in some unorthodox fics like college settings where the game either doesn’t exist or exists in some other form.

I’d also love to write more Lanille. I still love this pairing a lot and can do a lot more with it, unlike the Farrons (still wanna write them too but they’re getting difficult). And there’s more that I wanna write too for other pairings including Fang/Serah and Paine/Rikku.

 Q: Are you done with writing about the Farron sisters?

A: I am not done writing the Farrons. There’s still prompts I wanna do for Farronheit and I’d like to add to that until I completely burn out of them for good. They are definitely getting difficult to write. They feel too same-y, like there’s always some element of me making sure to show that their relationship is taboo, and then Serah using Snow as some sort of Lightning bait.... It gets repetitive.

 Q: Outside of the erotic or smutty kind of stories what else have you written?

A: So I’m a gigantic werewolf fan and like inserting them into anything. I’ve liked them since I was a kid (probably Bloody Roar’s fault) and enjoy writing them as well. I’ve been disappointed with how werewolves are portrayed in media — boring ass one-dimensional movie monsters that are only good for killing. That gets stale. I wanted to write werewolves doing more shit — having families, lives, social circles, dealing with puberty and the shifting stage, dealing with their significant others and getting the courage to tell the ones who are human about their identity. I feel like those make more interesting stories. I literally am so obsessed with werewolves, I took the time out to do mass amounts of research to craft my own personal werewolf species to use as a basis for any werewolf fics I write after that. It needs to be edited heavily.

 Q: Anything you don’t write?

 A: I don’t have the stamina or speed to write a multichaptered fic, really, or at least a coherent one. I’ve tried with a Lanille once, and now I don’t want to finish the fic at all. Content-wise, and as far as smut, there are, of course, a list of kinks I am definitely not interested in and will never write. But it’s too hard to say on a general level.

Q: Do you have any issues with making sure your staying as true to the characters as possible? For example projecting yourself onto them. A: Lightning's personality is kinda close to my own so she's fairly easy to write. I can throw a lot more of myself into her and (hopefully) make her sound more realistic. Serah is a bit more difficult because her personality differs from mine so much (Vanille as well). I tried to do a lot of research on the characters before I wrote them so I played the game over, took note of different things like body language and verbal tics. like Lightning has a tendency to say "Right" when she faces an awkward or difficult situation and rolls her eyes a lot. Vanille bounces around a lot .

We’d like to thank Aifirit for taking the time to make this interview possible. @fyeahnix

[just-a-kj-blog]

I Can’t Stay Any Longer - Part 2

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

Hello! I decided to repost my stories on my new blog. If you have any questions, feel free to send me an ask or a pm. This was written about a year ago, so be nice heheheh

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

Relationships: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Reader and Bucky are living together after the events of Ultron and, in the midst of a nightmare, Bucky does something he truly regrets.This follows the aftermath of Reader’s injury. (Y/N - your name)

Warnings: angst, blood, injured reader, swearing, medical procedures, hospital scenario

Word Count: 3659

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

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5  Part 6  Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Epilogue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

I Can’t Stay Any Longer - Part 2 by just-a-kj-blog, previously nenyakj

———————————

Previously:

My breath begins to rattle in my chest. When I cough and bright red drops spatter the sheets, I snap out of my reverie and wipe my mouth, avoiding the wounds, staring at the shiny red on my fingertips. I cough again, pain shooting through my ribs, and more blood splatters the bed and the floor.

“Oh shit,” I whisper. This is not good… I’m bleeding internally… into my lungs.

———————————

I scramble for my phone on the nightstand, gasping in pain as sharp points stab inside my chest.

Shit, my ribs are broken!!

I frantically push the emergency call button on the phone screen, selecting the contact closest to my thumb. A sleepy voice answers.

“Mmm-ello? What the hell, Y/n, if this a booty call it better be for the whole booty.”

“Tony!” I weep, relieved, my hands shaking. I cough again and vomit a small pool of blood onto my bedroom floor.

“Y/n??” He wakes right up at that. “What’s going on, what’s happening? Where’s Frosty?”

“He’s gone,” I choke, blood bubbling out of my mouth, my tears that were held back so long finally dripping down my cheeks. Black spots bloom before my eyes, my breathing becoming shallow. My chest is so tight, I can’t breathe. “Tony, I'm…. I’m bleeding, please…”

My phone clatters onto the floor as I slump sideways against the bed, falling backwards onto my back with a painful thump. Tony’s small, frantic voice is the last thing I hear before slipping into unconsciousness.

.

——–

“She’s not breathing..”

“I need to intubate..”

“There’s too much blood…..”

“Come on, kid, breathe…”

“Tony, get back…”

“Natasha, she’s turning blue….”

………

“Steve, where the hell is Bucky…”

“…I don’t know….”

“That’s a hand print on her chest…”

———-

.

Bright lights glare red through my eyelids, slowly bringing me back to consciousness. Burning pain flares through my chest as I try to take a breath. My brain tries to shift through the fuzziness, my eyebrows furrowing, confusion scattering my thoughts. A tiny moan escapes my mouth and I hear faint shuffling next to me.

“Hey, there’s my girl,” I hear Steve whisper. A warm hand caresses my forehead, pushing my hair back.

Steve? What… where the hell am I? Why am I naked?! Oh, there’s a blanket, thank god.

I pry my eyes open, wincing at the glare of the fluorescent lights. The steady beep beep beep of the heart monitor, the drips of the IV embedded in the crease of my left arm. Steve’s gentle breathing as he leans closer to me. It all overwhelms my senses at once.

Ok, I’m at the hospital. Time to do a quick check. I wiggle my toes and flex my legs. Check. I wriggle my hips and twist my waist. Check. I tense my abs and stomach– yowch. I lift both arms. Ouch! Right arm hurts. I glance down at the bright blue bandages wrapped above my elbow. Images of flying back into the headboard sputter inside my fuzzy head. A flare of pain flashes at my lips. Reaching up, I startle when I feel the butterfly bandages.

I inhale deeply as it all comes back like a too-focused nightmare scattered across my mind’s eye and I sit up fast. Steve lunges for me as I cry out and clutch at my chest. My hand is met with thick bandages instead of thin blankets. Steve places a warm hand on my stomach and the other on my lower back for support.

My heart sinks as I prepare myself … and look down. The blankets have fallen to the bed, revealing wrappings encompassing my torso from the swell of my breasts to a few inches above my navel, Steve’s thumb gently rubbing soft circles against the cloth. Black and purple bruises in the shape long fingers stand out against the paleness of the off-white bandages, peeking out from underneath them.

“Y/n,” Steve whispers. “Y/n, try and relax. You’re safe now.”

I look up at him, my face blank with shock. I can’t believe Bucky did this to me. He would never, ever lay a hand on me. Now there’s glaring proof of what he would never do, for all the world to see.

Tears begin pouring down my cheeks as I reach for Steve, my face scrunching as sobs tear from my throat.

“It’s alright, honey. I’ve got you,” Steve reassures as he slides his arms to wrap them around me. Tucking my head under his chin, he gently smooths a hand across my back as I wail against his chest, careful of my injuries.

The door flies open as a very dishevelled Tony Stark stumbles in, his worried brown eyes focusing on me. My sobbing calms as I turn my head to him, sniffling.

“They said she woke up, I was just going to get coffee. I swear, I was here the whole time,” he promises me. “Shit, I forgot the coffee,” he rambles, looking very tired and out of sorts, hurrying to the side of the bed not occupied by Steve, placing his hand over Steve’s on my shoulder.

I can feel Steve look up at him, his chin moving against the top of my head as he speaks.

“How do they know she’s awake? She just woke up. Five seconds ago,” Steve whispers, amused.

“I was walking past the nurses’ station and overheard them. Must have noticed it on the monitor. I’m surprised I beat them here, to be honest–” Tony’s interrupted by what I assume is the doctor, judging by his confident smile and white lab coat, entering the open door followed by two nurses in bright blue scrubs.

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s good to see you awake,” he says as he approaches the foot of the bed. He’s very tall, probably as tall as Steve, with light tan skin and warm amber-colored eyes. His wavy dark chestnut hair is cut in a medium length atop his head, and shorn below the ears. I would guess his age to be in his late 30s. The lavender of his Oxford button up matches well with the matte black of his tie.

“My name is Dr. Gregory Sanders, I’m the head of the Pulmonary and Critical Care Department here at Mt. Sinai. These are my colleagues, Jennifer and Xiomara,” he waves a hand at each woman standing behind him, who nod and softly smile in my direction.

“Mr. Stark was adamant at giving you the most advanced care and treatment for your injuries, as well as discretion, therefore I am here to check up on you to explain things and check on your healing progress, also to answer any questions or concerns you may have. If you’ll pardon me, Captain,” Dr. Sanders smiles at Steve, motioning to his side of the bed.

“Of course, Doctor, excuse me,” Steve answers as he gives me a kiss on top of my head and steps away from the bed.

I wipe my tears discreetly with my fingers, blushing when the doctor hands me a tissue.

“Thank you,” I murmur, wiping my face, Tony taking it and tossing it in the trash.

The doctor smiles down at me. “No trouble at all.” He scoots the wheeled stool chair from under the small work table bolted to the wall and sits, unbuttoning his lab coat and glides over to me.

“Alright, Y/n, may I call you Y/n?” At my nod of consent, he smiles and continues. “First and foremost, I want you to know that you are safe here. Guards have been placed at your door 24/7-” I shoot Tony a side glare and he frowns at me “-and the staff have been notified to report any suspicious behavior to Mr. Stark or Captain Rogers.”

My heart skips a beat as I take this in. The only person who I would be in danger of is Bucky. And there’s no way in hell he would come back and hurt me again. He didn’t even mean to in the first place. But, knowing how that might sound to a stranger who doesn’t understand the situation, I remain quiet and nod in understanding.

“Alright, good. Now, I’m going to explain the extent of your injuries. Do you think you’re up for that?” the doctor kindly asks.

I take in a deep breath, regretting it immediately and cough at the tight squeeze around my chest. Thankfully no blood splatters anywhere this time, as I cover my mouth and wince, my other hand going to my sore ribs.

“Take it easy, Y/n. It is important to breathe deep to prevent pneumonia but slow and steady. Too fast will aggravate your injuries.” He places a hand gently on my elbow, then lowers it back to his lap.

I nod again, feeling Tony sit on the side of the bed and placing his hand between my shoulder blades. Steve watches from next to the head of the hospital bed, his hand on the mattress.

“Alright, dear. You arrived here roughly 18 hours ago, unconscious and in respiratory distress. You presented with a hemothorax, or bleeding in the lungs and the sacs surrounding them, making it difficult to breathe, almost like you were drowning. After clearing your lungs and stopping the bleeding in surgery, we discovered five of your ribs broken,” he places his hands on the center of his rib cage. “They were pushed inward, puncturing both lungs and very nearly piercing your heart.”

I see Steve’s hand clench tight into a fist out of the corner of my eye and feel Tony’s hand twitch on my shoulder.

“This was the result of a serious impact on your chest cavity, Y/n.” He peers down at the finger bruises peeking out from the top of the wraps. “I’ve never seen anyone actually shatter ribs with their bare hands.” Dr. Sanders looks back up at me, concern clearly visible in his eyes.

I duck my head, avoiding his gaze, feeling Tony’s hand tremble slightly against my back. I have no idea what Tony and Steve have told the staff here, or even if they’ve notified the police. Do they even know what happened? Do they know that Bucky’s gone? I don’t even remember anything after calling Tony, who got to me first? I have so many questions but I don’t want to ask any in front of the doctor. I have no idea what to say.

The doctor sighs and pats my knee. “Ok, we won’t get into that at the moment. What concerns me right now is your recovery.”

I sigh, wincing at the zing of pain, and bring my gaze back up, giving him my full attention once more.

“You were taken to the OR immediately upon arrival. A procedure called pleurodesis was performed. It’s where the surgeon inserts a tube into your lungs and vacuums out the fluid. Both of your lungs were punctured, so both were drained. You have incisions here and here,” he points to the lower corner of each side of my rib cage. “And also here and here,” He points both hands to the middle of my chest, a finger touching the middle swell of each breast. “These were made to reset your ribs and sew up the puncture wounds.

“And it’s important to limit movement while they heal,” the doctor continued. “A buildup of fluid is possible in the future, which, in case this happens, another procedure will need to be performed. Your ribs, unfortunately, there’s not much to be done. We reset them, as I said, and wrapped them up. We can only wait for them to heal now. You’ll want to take it easy and not twist or raise your arms above your head for at least two weeks. There’s no cast we can place around your torso, it would be quite painful and suffocating,” he winces.

“I’ve left instructions with Mr. Stark on the healing process and aftercare at home and do’s and don’ts, as well as prescriptions for pain and antibiotics. Follow those instructions for the antibiotics to the letter and finish the whole bottle,” he orders, pointing at me with an eyebrow raised.

I nod again, the corner of my mouth lifting up in a tiny smile.

“We will be administering antibiotics and pain medication here through your IV at different intervals, so there is no need to worry about that now. The wounds on your face,” he gestures to my mouth, “are superficial and should heal completely within a few weeks. Dab on antibacterial lotion after every shower and before bed and allow them to breathe every once and awhile without the band-aids. Now, because of the extent of your injuries, you will need to stay here for a least 72 hours. We want to keep you under observation, be sure there’s no infection and your lungs are returning to their full capacity. I want to keep you monitored until you are able to breathe in deeply without wanting to scream.” The doctor pats my knee and looks at Tony and Steve, then back to me.

“Do you have any questions or concerns?” he asks.

My brain fuzzes out, mind going blank. Nope, nothing in here.

“I think we’re fine for now, Doctor. Thank you for your time and the explanations,” Steve replies, running a hand through my hair.

“Of course. If you have any concerns, I’ve given my personal number to Mr. Stark, at his insistence. I’ll be happy to help.” Dr. Sanders nods to Steve and Tony, then clears his throat. “Alright, gentlemen, I am going to need to ask you to leave the room so I can examine our patient.” He smiles at me and reaches for the box of gloves behind him on the work table, pulling out two purple ones.

A flash of panic zings through my body as I finally speak.

“C-can they stay?” I ask, my voice raspy from disuse.

The good doctor looks up surprised and must see the panic on my face. “Of course, if that’s what you’re comfortable with, yes they may stay.” He motions for the nurses, who close the door and step forward.

Panic courses through me again and I press myself back into the raised bed as they approach me.

Tony, who froze when I asked if they could stay, finally got his head back in place and takes his hand in mine, moving back as the blonde nurse moves to my side and starts removing the clip holding the wraps together.

Steve places his large hand on the back of my neck, assuring me of his presence, not bothered at all that I asked them to stay.

I have to sit up so the nurse, Jennifer, I read from her name badge, can unwind the wrapping gently. For a fleeting second in my fear, I wish Bucky was here to comfort me. But then I remember. And breathe out a sob.

“You’re doing fine, Y/n,” the doctor gently reassures, patting my thigh as he scoots closer to the bed. Lowering the side railing, he helps remove the last of the wrapping and leans in close. “Alright, Y/n, can you lay on your back for me?”

I sniff and nod in response, laying back. The black curly-haired nurse with lovely caramel colored skin, Xiomara, I remember, steps behind Steve and lowers the bed to a few degrees above flat, Steve removing his hand from my neck.

Tony and Steve take in deep, sharp breaths simultaneously.

My face squinches as tears leak down the sides of my face, dripping into the shells of my ears. I don’t want to look. It must be bad if it takes them by surprise. I clench my eyes shut and exhale. Squeezing my hands into fists, one squeezing Tony’s hand pretty hard, I look down at myself. My stomach flips.

A deep purple-black bruise in the form of Bucky’s large hand sits right in between my breasts. A sob escapes my throat as I lay my head back down, trying to get a grip on myself.

It’s ok, it’s over with, now you just have to deal with taking care of yourself.

I take a breath and look down again. Two small white square gauze bandages held down by medical tape grace the middle swells of both breasts, right where the doctor said the incisions were made. More tears escape as I lean up a bit to look further down my chest. My eyes widen.

Blooms of dark blue and purple decorate the entire area of my ribs, just below the the bra line. I start to breath shallow in panic. What the hell??? Bucky didn’t touch me there!!

“Y/n, it’s alright, doll, deep breaths,” I hear Steve say, his voice quaking.

“Listen to the good Captain, there, sweetheart. This discoloration is from the hemothorax. The bleeding into lungs, remember? This is just bruising remaining from the blood, it will heal very quickly, I promise,” the doctor reassures.

“Ok, now rest your head, I’m going to examine you and make it as painless as I can, alright?”

I hold back another sob and reach for Steve’s hand, laying my head back down. He quickly envelops it in his large one. I glance up at him and see him watching the doctor’s hands intently, his jaw clenching. Glancing over at Tony, his usually tan face is ashen, his free hand crossing his chest and tucked under his armpit. His eyes are hard and focused as he watches the doctor.

My gaze drifts back to the ceiling, trying not to think about my naked chest on display. I trust Tony and Steve with my life. They found me, I assume, naked in my bedroom, covered in blood, so it’s not like it’s the first time they’ve seen me bare-chested. Still, it’s very unnerving.

I can feel the doctor’s cool hands as he palpates the bruise from Bucky’s hand. I hear him tell the nurses there is no change, no clots. He moves to each upper incision. I shiver and blush when his sleeve brushes against my nipple, feeling them pebble in response. I close my eyes, squeezing out more tears. Steve gently squeezes my hand. I hate feeling this vulnerable. I’m almost wishing it would just be over so I can curl up and cry in peace.

He checks under the bandages and claims them to be healing well, no sign of infection. His hands move to my ribs and he gently presses, feeling for the breaks. I squeak in pain when a sharp sting explodes under his fingertips. Tony jerks forward, but holds himself back at the last second, his hand shaking in mine.

“My apologies, Y/n, Mr. Stark. I know this is uncomfortable. We’re almost finished,” Dr. Sanders reassures, looking very apologetic.

His fingers find the last two incisions at the bottom of my rib cage. They are clean and healing well, no infections.

“Alright, my dear, can you sit up for me? We’re going to wrap you in fresh bandaging.”

I nod again, Steve and Tony leaning forward to grasp me by each shoulder and help lift me up.

Jennifer and Xiomara are quick to wrap me back up and Dr. Sanders makes quick notes into the room’s computer. The ladies ask me if I would like some ice chips and I nod eagerly, my throat sore and dry. They leave to fetch me the chips and more blankets and pillows.

Dr. Sanders finishes his report as Steve sits next to me on the bed. Sniffling, I lay back down, his hand resting on my thigh. Steve gently lifts the blankets up to shoulders, his face a picture of forced calm. Tony is still very shaken up and sits on the floor, his mop of messy brown hair the only thing visible from my point of view. He still has a death grip on my hand and I squeeze it gently.

“Ok, Y/n, last thing for now.” The doctor turns to us, holding up a peculiar device. “This is called a Voldyne Incentive Spirometer. You breathe into this tube as hard as you can to lift this little marble to the 2000 mark and hold it there for 15 seconds. It will help promote healing and prevent pneumonia. You need to use it every hour while you’re awake.”

He hands me the device and I nod. Steve takes it and places it on the rolling food table pushed against the wall in the corner.

“Alright then, my colleagues should be back soon with what you need. Please call me if there are any issues or questions. If there’s an emergency, push the nurse button on the side of your bed, there.” The doctor points to the inside of the railing as he pulls it back into place. There are several buttons, including ones to shift the bed into different positions, for the tv, and a bright red one with a nurse’s hat. I’m guessing that’s the one to call the nurse station.

“Be sure to rest plenty. You’re on a bland soft food diet for today, dinner will not be very exciting, I’m sorry to say. But you can have as many popsicles and ice chips as you want. Alright, Y/n, I’ll see you tomorrow. Captain, Mr. Stark.” He nods a farewell to them and leaves, wisely refraining from commenting on Tony’s position on the floor, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Reeling from that huge load of information, I plop my head back into the bed, blowing out a breath. Closing my eyes, I can feel both of Tony and Steve’s stares on me. My body tenses as I wait for the inevitable.

“What happened?” they both ask me at the same time.

I cringe and open my eyes. This is not going to be pleasant.

To be continued…

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

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5  Part 6  Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Epilogue

Tagging: @melissa-anne-rose @simplyme8308 @lucian-tate @lovekrystina @bolontiku @your-dark-magic-man-mysterio @thestrangedoctorisin @theweatherwitch @magellan-88 @torilovelytop @mymourningtea @mcuimxgine @magicalhufflehuggles @ramxna-marxtta @spinsterlocity @blackroseyaz @secondsandstars @the-squid-one @justreadingfics @justareader @suz-123 

[jugggheadjoness]

ink-stained memories // reggie mantle soulmate au pt4

Ink-Stained Memories (Part 4 to Ink-Stained Skin)

Ink-Stained Masterlist

Summary: Distance can sometimes be a good thing.

Words: 1.1k

Masterlist

“Dude, can you turn that down? It’s really not helping.” Reggie grumbled, lifting his head from against the car window.

The chords to ‘Only Love’ by Ben Howard rang through his ears as Chuck increased the volume with a smug grin on his face. In that instant, Reggie suddenly regret agreeing on going on the road trip with his idiot friend and his closeted friend.

“What was that? Start the song again? No worries, man. I got 'chu.” Chuck smirked and as loudly as the duo possibly could, they began singing along to the lyrics. It was a sight Reggie never expected to see. His two best friends shouting the lyrics to a Ben Howard song at each other.

“Reggie, you’re with me, always around me. RE-JEC-TED.” Chuck sung, earning a few looks from the car next to them at the stoplight. With one swift motion, both Moose and Chuck turned around to face Reggie with smirks playing across their faces, lifting their fingers up and pointing it at him.

“RE-JEC-TED.”

The group sat around the breakfast bar in the Andrews kitchen, discussing the events that had lead to the distance between (Y/N) and Reggie. They had spent the entire night prior discussing what they had been currently discussing. Archie’s faced tugged into a smile as he noticed his best friend gazing out, stuck in her daydream.

“(L/N), what are you thinking about?” he asked, gaining her attention immediately.

“I’m pushing away my soulmate, for what reason?” she groaned, taking her friends by surprised. She had stayed silent for most of the time they had been at the Andrews household.

“You’re scared of getting hurt and we all understand and even Reggie will understand. Stop overthinking it, (Y/N), it’s not healthy to overthink.” Veronica sighed, approaching her friend slowly.

“Because I’m scared of getting hurt? But, he’s my soulmate, he can’t hurt me too badly and he possibly couldn’t break my heart because wether we like it or not, we’ve been bound together from birth and we’ll be bound together til death. Anyways, lemme at the food.”

Pushing herself up and leaning forward, (Y/N) grabbed the pancake from Archie’s plate. She looked around and saw her friends gawking at her with their eyebrows raised “What? Just because I’m sad doesn’t mean I can’t eat pancakes. It actually just gives me extra reason to steal your food.”

The trio sat atop of the hood of Moose’s car, watching the sunset from the distance. Reggie’s mind wandered back to Riverdale and to (Y/N). He wondered if she was seeing the same sunset the same colour that painted the sky her favourite shade of orange and the more he thought the more he longed to return home and see her. The further he was away from her, the stronger the pull towards her felt. He began to think whether the pull had always been there or if it began the moment he realised it was her.

“Dude, she literally calls you Reginald.”

“And?” His voice was laced with confusion.

“You’d punch me if I even attempted to call you Reginald.” Chuck frowned

The memory of his previous conversation with Chuck was enough to fill him with adrenaline. He pushed himself up and rushed towards the passenger’s side of his friends car and frantically searched through the glove box for a pen or a marker.

Before he even pressed the ink to his skin, he noticed the words scribbled on his arm in the tiniest writing he had ever seen.

'reginald, for years people have been searching for a cure for sadness, something that would cure the emptiness they felt on the inside. shamefully, i was one of those people. note the past tense, that’s important. it’s not present tense bcos ive found my own personal cure for the sadness i sometimes feel. everyone is allowed a down day once in awhile but once i looked into ur eyes, the eyes that glow my favourite shade of sunset orange when u smile, the sadness seemed to melt away and im sorry if i pushed u away, im scared, reginald. no im terrified bcos we’re too similar for our own good and im terrified that i’ll do something wrong and push you away and u wont be there anymore.’

Reggie gazed at his arm, rereading the words that she had written in an attempt of saving the words in his memory. His emotion ran high as he fought back the tears, as a way to save getting teased by his two best friends. Reggie knew that (Y/N)’s words was only the beginning of their ink-stained memories.

Moose and Chuck watched from the outside as Reggie ran his fingers through the ink that stained most of his forearm. Despite their tough exterior, the two could sense the sadness that pulsed through their friend and their captain, they had known Reggie for the longest time and he hadn’t truly shown emotion in front of them until he found out (Y/N) was his soulmate. Despite their need to tease, they realised that it wasn’t an appropriate time and looked at each other, in order to confirm their thoughts.

“Do you think our soulmates will affect us as bad as it has with Reg?” Moose asked, his lips pulling into a frown.

For the first time in his life, Chuck’s words seemed to make sense “Soulmates aren’t easy, Moose. It’s harder for Mantle, he can feel everything she feels, her bruises appear on his skin, they are basically one person, whereas with our soulmates, we are each other’s half, we form one whole once found but ever since birth they have always been one.”

“Dude, I didn’t need a deep answer, a yes or no would’ve been fine.”

Archie’s arm flung onto the back of the booth as he slid in, gaining the seat opposite from (Y/N). Her eyes lit up at the sight of  the flamed hair boy opposite her and the rest of her friends approaching. “What’ve you got there?” Kevin’s head nodded towards her right forearm.

“I took Ronnie’s advice and wrote down my thoughts to Reggie. It’s corny and I hate myself for writing it but it’s what I was thinking.” (Y/N) turned to face Veronica who was sat next to her blonde friend “If he teases me for being corny, I’ll forever hate you Veronica Lodge.”

“I’m guessing you two are on good terms now?” Archie raised an eyebrow.

“Mantle’s been whipped for (Y/N) since he first found out. Of course they’re okay.” Kevin rolled his eyes “So tell me, when’s the dick appointment?”

The entire booth burst out into laughter which soon came to a halt as Reggie stood in front of them, soaked through from the rain outside, his breathing hard and heavy. “Did you mean that? Did you mean those words?”

“Reggie, aren’t you meant to be with Moose and Chuck?” Archie raised his eyebrow.

“Did you run here?” (Y/N) asked, her eyes never leaving his.

“Did. You. Mean. Them?” he spoke slowly as he tried to regain his breathing.

“Of course, I did.”

“You’re unbelievably cheesy,” he grinned

“I hate you so, so much, Reginald Mantle.”

“I beg to differ.”