#like i would have a self imposed cool off period
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foxmulderautism · 1 year ago
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i went through a magazines archive of (monthly) issues this year -- common hobby of mine -- and the same writer was in at least 5 issues and i'm just like....sorry that is weird to me! not the being published by the same mag multiple times part but to be in nearly half of a magazine's year of issues is so??? do you as an editor not want some variety in the people you publish lol
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ranticore · 4 days ago
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you stated before that centaurs had geldings; what was their place in the culture? did their existence persist in ironwall? do they exist in the modern day?
yayyyy ironwall.. i need to get back on that horse and draw more stuff for it
gelding as a practice dates back to the pre-florian era but it was quite rare. sometimes it would be done as punishment against rival stallions, sometimes undertaken willingly for spiritual or gender confirmation reasons, the context varied with no true universal use case or belief about what kind of person would result although it was a generally accepted belief that a gelding did not threaten a stallion so wasn't considered in the herd hierarchy as one
in the early creation of Ironwall it wasn't really much of a thing either, it actually took a century or more for the key florian beliefs to become internalised within the population - suddenly it wasn't just "these strict christian standards are being imposed on us", it was "these are OUR strict christian standards and we find fulfilment in this". when the citizens took florian beliefs and ran with them, they attained a level of strict fanaticism which even florian himself could never have dreamed of.
gelding in ironwall was a part of a cultural push to 'tame' and quote unquote civilise stallions and to turn their minds to the acceptable life pursuits of obedience, hard work, humility, and self-denial. as such it was considered ideal for military service especially with the added bonus of reducing the number of hierarchy squabbles in a military unit. nearly all centaur knights in the renaissance period were geldings & particularly devout adherents to chivalry. the effect of the procedure on strength & muscle mass was considered an acceptable trade-off. it has to be said, however, that any behavioural changes beyond a reduction in sexual desire were most likely psychosomatic. (this was later acknowledged as fact by historians, to great backlash from the naturalist movement of the late 20th century who were strict believers of centaur gender bioessentialism and taught that unaltered stallions were basically rage monsters by nature but like that's a cool and good thing just accept it ok)
anyway by the georgian period it wasn't particularly in vogue anymore outside of limited contexts (members of the clergy, castrati, etc). opinions of florian-era fanaticism had changed and the new hot thing was fetishising ancient greece & rome instead of course, because these are georgians we're talking about and that's their bread and butter. the window for acceptable standards shifted towards stallions who were procreative within their groups, patriarchs. this aligns with the formation & growth of a Middle Class, but also with certain families of centaurs in Ironwall now having attained some generational wealth and power, and an incentive to cling onto it (and you can't pass the nice townhouse to your kids if you are infertile). the industrial era saw a concentration of labour demand in Ironwall and some fears that there would not be sufficient population growth to meet it, sooooo
it continued to be used as a punishment until the mid-20th century, particularly against stallions who were caught starting too many fights in public (they would be sent to workhouses, too, which was the answer to every social ill from the victorian era onwards), and also against adult homosexuals.
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shirefantasies · 11 months ago
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okay! im about to read your newest the hobbit post but i had a little question that might be hard to answer and if it is thats cool! i was just wondering how you seem to seamlessly get all the dwarves in character. even when the movies and stuff don't focus on them. It's like every time i read your works it's ALWAYS SO IN CHARACTER and it's so good but im so amazed with how you do it when the dwarves arent all focused on much. its amazing. im thinking of trying to write my own for them, similar to what you do kinda, but im scared of not getting their characterization right!
First off, I can’t wait to see what you write 🥰 if you do requests maybe I’ll shoot you one hehe
Ooooh well this is an interesting question for sure! Well characters/characterization has always been like a special interest of mine and it's an honor to hear I do it well! This is gonna be loooooooooooooooooooooooong but I kinda want to go into examples for them all hehe
So overall I'd say: Keeping period-accurate language and just their culture in mind is important. Trying to avoid too many contractions and colloquialism from our time and things like that. But for more specifics I think it's easy to fall into stereotypes, even in the movies themselves and it's sort of like a mix of leaning into those and going outside them in the right blend? But I'll explain my thought process for each of them by family cuz I wanna talk about them 🤔😆
Balin, Dwalin: Balin is one of the characters less stereotyped because his role is more prominent. He definitely serves as a guide and source of wisdom, but also has the background of being an "old warrior". He's quieter and more level-headed than some of the other more boisterous characters and I see him as being (healthily) protective in relationships because of his guiding and caring. Dwalin is also a warrior and that tends to come more forward, but he also loves good food and cares about people. He, too, is protective even if it's more of a rough way, and I think he likes the feeling of being needed and being able to take care of people even if he acts like he doesn't. That's a bit of a headcanon, but again, looking beyond stereotypes I guess hehe~
Oin, Gloin: Oin is mostly known for being the healer, maybe the hearing jokes. But he’s also a jolly soul and obviously quite intelligent too. I think he’s almost the most balanced between the raucous, axe-wielding mining dwarf stereotype and the more intellectual side not stereotyped for them… which is silly in and of itself! Oin is smart, funny, experienced…but he still knows how to fight and how to have a good time! Gloin is often seen as being similar to his son, but he has an even stronger sense of family values and loyalty as a father and husband. He also is shown to enjoy gambling and treasure, too, so I love imagining him as knowing all the most fun games and ways to bet!
Thorin, Fili, Kili: Thorin is the most serious one and I think that comes from the weight of everything falling on him. A big part of him wants to give in and trust or love people, but it's hard for him to add outsiders to that. Trust and respect are very important for him, and formalities and proof come before he opens up. But when you let him, he has some capacity for physical affection as we see when he embraces Bilbo. Literally and figuratively that shows him 'embracing' a new friendship. His family is very important for him and I think while he seems to feel it's not in the cards, I think Thorin deep down would love a family of his own. Fili and Kili both have teasing streaks and a mix of the seriousness and merriment. They feel a similar weight to Thorin but much less compounded with youth and their own personalities. It's more generational trauma that gets imposed on them. Fili has all his blades and is shown to be very loyal, but beyond that he is very self-sacrificial. He's giving and loving, surrendering seeing Erebor to be with his brother and even giving his life toward the canon end. As much as he teases, he has the best interests of those he loves in mind and will stand up for that. Kili is portrayed as the flirt, which is quite true, but he also is the most idealistic. The one who asks 'why not?' in the face of challenges. He can be a bit of a show-off, but he’s a sweetheart and had the most youthful innocence preserved.
Bifur, Bofur, Bombur: Bifur stands out for speaking mostly in signs and Khuzdul, but he’s also a strong, experienced fighter. I think his condition lends to him being lonelier and wanting to reach out and be included, hence him having such resentment toward the axe once he loses it! Kind of like Dwalin, though, he’s an interesting mix of wanting to seem tough but also being softer than he lets on inside. Bofur is jolly and loves to sing, dance, and have fun, but he’s also the biggest sweetheart. He, after all, is the one who tells Bilbo he’s a part of the group and that he belongs with them. He risks his own safety to help Kili in Laketown. I really think he’d be the sweetest with a family and honestly he’s just one of my favorites in the whole darn thing, I could go on and on! Bottom line is that Bofur is cheerful and musical, but also the first dwarf you’ll want to talk to for real, heart-filled motivation and kind words about anyone. Bombur is the most stereotyped character and I hate that due to the nature of it!!! 😤 The old ‘haha fat person obsessed with food’ trope bugs me because it’s just riddled with unfunny prejudices even though both of those things are valid and true. But weight as a joke frickin sUCKS and I say that as someone who’s been fat-shamed by someone who claimed to be my best friend, joked about how heavy I was and going to tip things over etc. But we see that Bombur is strong, a very fast runner and capable fighter whose weight can help him in a fight! The popular fanon/actors headcanon is that he’s married and the father of I believe thirteen or fourteen children and I love that for him 😌 he’s obviously more quiet, happy to stay along the sides and take orders, but one of his few focused non-caricature scenes is him returning Bifur’s axe like ‘here you go cousin 🥺’… just a goofy lil sweetheart I love. Basically he’s the one who does the cooking for the company but I try to give his quiet but big-hearted side more attention than just being like heehoo fat guy lol
Dori, Nori, Ori: Dori is always just put in his ‘mother-hen’ role, which is definitely part of his character! But also it is described by movie creators/actors that he’s known for being a few other things, like having a taste for finer things and being more on the gentle and intellectual side as well. One detail they mentioned was hence the silver case he braids his beard into 😆 but I think of him as being softer and more well-read as well as being one of the obviously most family-oriented. Nori gets the sort of swashbuckling thief reputation and tbh, I see it! I also often characterize him as a tease, which I think is part of why the film notes/actors mention he drives Ori crazy lol. Ori himself is usually portrayed with his writing and drawing in focus as well as the fanon that he knits! I love him for being more sweet and polite, but also with the little moments of showing his strength and rougher side. And sometimes he just feels like he has to keep up with everyone else 🥺 In general I see him being the sweetest in relationships even if he is the least mature. Also probably second to Dori in terms of preferring comforts.
Bilbo: Home is obviously a big motif for Bilbo because he’s such a homebody in the beginning and rediscovers his love for adventure. A big part of his character, then, is realizing people can be home and there is more than one definition. He’s also a bit shy and awkward being so introverted as he is, so if he doesn’t know how to say something that’ll probably show. Like most hobbits, though, he’s so sweet and resilient and has a purity at heart that the others don’t. He’s intentional in his behaviors and clever. Also, he knows quality when he sees it 😌
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thefoldedbird · 11 months ago
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The childhood magical race of people with wings I made up after the first time I watched Osmosis Jones were called Margins (exactly like the margins of a book) and it took me way too long to remember that but I didn’t feel particularly sad because I self-imposed a rule basically from the start that said you can’t be one after you turn 18 (because you’re not a kid anymore) so I’ve basically already mourned the death of the concept.
They were just a magical race of mostly girls who would go into worlds (books and shows) and fix the bad things that happened to people or just be friends with them without telling them they were Margins. It’s no surprise that I write fanfiction now. Honestly, I should have seen that coming.
The planet you had to portal to was called Domino and only one city was in the bubble of habitability because some Margin (maybe me? I don’t think I ever decided.) destroyed the place in a big damn magic burst and now nothing grows there. I think maybe sometimes we had to fight off black vines or something but I can’t be sure.
There was also a preliminary period before you became a Margin where you were just a fairy/pixie and had to use a wand. But I got really bored with that quickly cause it was just magic school for rules I was making up so I just made it part of my character lore that I had been too strong for wands and they exploded whenever I tried to use them.
Also my mentor figure was the statue of Zeus from Disney’s Hercules and Domino was somewhere near Mars because I decided Martians were cool and wanted to be their friend thanks to that one Tom and Jerry movie.
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spicykat9 · 1 year ago
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❤️✌️♡Á
from the Muse post
For GerEng if possible
sorry that it's more than one :)
No Problem! I love having multiple prompts/characters. And it's GerEng. Never apologize for GerEng.
Ask Game
❤ : Where on their body is your muse most sensitive?
Arthur: Neck. Even just a light brush can put him in the mood. An easy way to tease him.
Ludwig: Hmm...I never really thought about it but... I've written a few times of his stomach/abdomen being sensitive
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✌ : Is your muse good with their hands?
Arthur: Definitely. Both hands and mouth. He knows the best places to touch to get a reaction and how to vary his movement and pressure. He's got a lot of experience after all.
Ludwig: That's a toughy. Because he's pretty inexperienced and shy to the point he doesn't know what to do/doesn't want to mess up. But he makes up for it with his big, warm hands. Plus the calluses from all the work he does adds to the sensation.
---
♡ : Does your muse have any birthmarks or scars they get embarrassed about others seeing?
Arthur: With Ludwig specifically, it's less of embarrassment and not wanting to make Ludwig feel guilty. Let's just say he has some scars from a certain event, during a certain war. So when they first start getting intimate, Arthur would keep his shirt on. Oh additionally. Since he's trans he's got scars from self imposed top surgery. And again, he's not embarrassed, but at the time he hadn't come out to Ludwig yet, fearing that Ludwig would see him differently and break things off.
But in the end, he didn't really have anything to worry about with the trans thing. Ludwig was completely cool with it. The other scars on the other hand. The first time Arthur revealed them, it ruined the mood and Ludwig was sent into a bit of a guilt ridden spiral. But after some time and a bit more healing, it worked out.
Ludwig: Yes as well, but again, it's less out of embarrassment and more he doesn't want to get questioned about it. He has a lot of scars. Mainly from being experimented on. He's basically blocked that period of his life from his mind and doesn't like to think about it. He worries that someone will ask one day and make all those memories come flooding back. So far, at least with Arthur, nothing has been asked.
---
Á : Is your muse loud in bed?
Arthur: Yes. It depends on his partner how much he will try to keep himself quiet. But with Ludwig, he's not afraid to be loud.
Ludwig: It takes a bit to get him to loosen up enough in bed. But he can be.
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kingofkingdom · 3 years ago
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The Lady of the House :: 1
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Chapter One
Medieval!AU
“Letters are signs of things, symbols of words, whose power is so great that without a voice they speak to us the words of the absent” - Isidore of Saville
Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader (AFAB, she/her pronouns)
Rating: Teen 
Warnings: Violence, gore, peril, period-typical classism
Author’s Note: Reader in this series will be based in part on the lives of both Margaret, Duchess of Norfolk and Margaret Paston. This story is set in medieval England, but I have done my best to keep her physical features vague, and as the story progresses her background will hopefully help lend to self-insertion. This will be up on my AO3 in a bit - more historical notes will be left there. Enjoy!
Word Count: 2.6k
He comes in the night, on the back of a horse with flared nostrils and hooves that shake the earth.
Your small village is not one to receive frequent visitors, tucked away in the dense woods as it is. In the landscape's soft bosom, green and quiet, the hunter is a stranger who cannot go unnoticed. He rides through every few months, takes a room at the inn, and departs before the next morning's first birdsong. Voices hush as he enters the tavern and deposits his coin on the counter. The only villager to have spoken to him is the barkeep, a man with eyes almost as shrewd as the hunter's.
Even his name evokes chaos. Din. Like the roar of a crowd, the clamor of voices and bodies and metal that exists in the deep recesses of your memory. Swords clashing, men yelling, blood spilt on muddy cobblestones. 
When the hunter rides through, the women whisper. Some say their cousins in York have seen him slice a man's head clean off his shoulders. Others say their fathers knew him as a boy, that there was a time when he was kind and fair. The men claim to have taken him in combat, to have scarred him, that the chain around their necks was torn from beneath the hunter's cotte.
The hunter passes through like smoke on the wind, seen but for a moment, the smell remaining long after he departs.
Tonight the evening is cool and bright. The sun seems as though it refuses to dip behind the trees, keeping the earth golden and mischievous much later than usual. It is for this reason that the townsfolk are taken by surprise at the appearance of the hunter when they are still working. Their heads turn as he passes, watching the hunter, seeing that he does not stop at the tavern.
Tonight, Din Djarin points his horse's nose down a different path. He rides towards the estate that sits a small distance from the town, across the river, through thick forest and open farmland.
The family in the manor across the river has lived there since it was built nearly two hundred years ago. Constructed in the Norman style of imposing gray stone, it's a cold, uninviting structure meant more to be the placeholder of a conqueror than a place where someone might live. An outer wall, fortified at the corners by circular towers, protects the inner sanctuary from attack. It’s relatively small, but it projects an air of nobility and royal favour all the same. Clearly, the family who live here are well-off and have been for some time. 
As Din guides his steed towards the building, he sees that it is bustling with activity. Fires burn in the narrow, arched windows and sentries keep watch outside the gates. Smoke rises from within and distantly, so faint he might have missed it if he weren't who he is, Din can hear the sound of an instrument being played.
It is clear that much business is conducted here. The hunter would be surprised if that weren't the case, given the flurry of activity present at all Norman strongholds across the island. A young boy rides past him as he approaches, carrying a leather satchel that likely holds letters to someone in the vast country beyond.
Upon his arrival, Din tells the guards his business and dismounts from his horse. He leads her through the front gate and into the inner courtyard where the main house is situated. The mare, called Crest, is one of his most beloved possessions, so he cannot help but watch as a stable boy takes her reins and walks her over to a hitching post. She begins to graze.
Inside, the castle is distinctly colder than the air outside. The walls are adorned with thick, delicately woven tapestries, and the ceiling is painted in bright reds and golds. A young woman approaches and beckons Din to follow, eyes downcast and hair hidden beneath a white veil that falls to the middle of her back. They pass through several doorways, up a winding set of stairs, and down a long, echoing hallway before the woman pauses at the very last door.
She knocks thrice, in quick succession. From inside, a voice calls out, inviting the two of them in.
Your back is turned to the handmaiden and your guest when they walk through the door and into the drawing room. Through the window beside your writing table you can see out onto the grounds below. Outside, two of the guards are engaged in conversation, smiling and laughing between themselves. Though a fire roars bright and hot just beside you, a cold feeling overcomes you and your hands clench where they're interlaced over your midsection.
"The hunter, Din Djarin, milady."
The door squeaks and slams shut again, closing you in with this famed, mysterious hunter. He's silent behind you and it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. You let the silence continue for a moment, interrupted only by the sound of burning logs, before you turn to face him.
He stands there, hip cocked, a gloved hand on the pommel of his sword. His hair is mussed and his beard grows sparse on his jaw. He looks at you from under the ridge of his brow, the whites of his eyes gleaming in the firelight.
"How lucky am I, that the mysterious hunter would answer my call," you quip, meeting his dark gaze head-on. You don't fear him like the villagers do - this meeting can only go one way, which leaves no room for preconceived ideas of who this man is.
He raises a brow. "I mean you no insult, my Lady, but I was under the impression I was to meet with the Lord of the house tonight."
That makes you smile. Of course he would assume such a thing. "No, I am afraid it was I who summoned you, and with myself alone you will discuss the forthcoming matters."
His jaw works for a moment. "Your husband," he begins, speaking carefully, knowing the line he's treading close to, "does he know I am here, at your request?"
"Yes.” Whether he approves is another matter, but the hunter needn’t know that. 
He considers this. "What are the matters you summoned me here to discuss, madam?"
You purse your lips, lifting your head, setting your posture out of habit. The light in the room has shifted; the sun is now below the horizon, so the space grows darker as only the firelight illuminates your faces. 
“The Lord is currently away on business, tending to his late uncle’s affairs in the south. He is not due back for some time." You meet his gaze to underscore the seriousness of your next words.  "There have been five attempts on my life since my husband departed. I have reason to suspect they were all orchestrated by the same group, though none of my knights have been able to track them down. I called you here to offer you substantial payment in return for their heads."
The hunter shifts his weight. He looks off to the side, staring beyond the parchment lying blank on your desk. You watch his face closely as he considers your words. Lines appear between and above his brows, and his lips turn down at the corners. 
You can tell he's thinking about it, so you sweeten the pot, so to say.
“I can pay you one-third the reward up front for each man you pursue, and the rest once I have confirmation that they are dead.”
“I don’t work for hire, madam.”
You scoff. “Do you take me for a fool, Din Djarin?”
His eyes meet yours and something in them softens, ever so slightly. Outside, someone shouts, followed by raucous laughter. 
“No, madam. I collect bounties placed on criminals by the crown, not by private individuals. No matter how pressing the issue may be."
The words make you bristle; they border on disrespect, suggesting that he is a man beholden to no one rather than a subject who regularly passes through your lands uninhibited. To act as though he is too good to collect your reward, despite not even knowing what it is. You tilt your head, clasping your hands behind your back.
Clearly this man knows not the implications of what he says. You should have expected as much from someone with his background, or lack thereof.
"I am the crown in every way that concerns someone of your standing, hunter. If you do not need the coin, then say as much. But do not let your frivolous self-imposed rules inflate your ego beyond your name."
That makes the hunter narrow his eyes. He takes a step forward, his broad shoulders looming over you, as though he intends to intimidate you into simply accepting what he just said. No, you think to yourself, not moving an inch, I am not a woman who can be bullied into obedience. You lift your chin so as to more easily look him in the eye.
"How quickly the lady of the house forgets her roots," he mutters.
The fire of anger within you roars to life, brighter and hotter than that which warms your faces. You feel your mouth curl down into an ugly sneer, eyes widening in shock. How dare he! 
Just as you're opening your mouth to assure him of his imminent demise at the hands of one of your guards, a commotion can be heard approaching quickly in the hallway beyond the door. Footsteps, many pairs of them, all running, overlapped by the sounds of indiscernible shouting. You and the hunter forget for a moment your quarrel and each turn to look at the door.
"My Lady!" 
The voice is that of your handmaiden. She sounds terrified, her words nearly screams as they echo through the stone walls of your castle. On instinct you step back, positioning the hunter between yourself and the door.
Another scream, this one cut too short. Men holler and then the door rattles violently. You catch a glimpse of the hunter drawing his sword before you're diving towards your desk, frantically searching for the item you know lies in one of its drawers.
You can hear as the wooden door swings and slams against the stone wall beside it. Your fingers find the handle of your dagger and you spin around just in time to catch sight of the hunter's sword slicing a man's stomach clean through. Another attacker launches himself at you. Meaty hands grab at your arms and shoulders, the seams of your dress tearing under blunt, bloody nails. The length of your dagger finds one of the gaps between his ribs and he slumps, his breathing gone ragged and shallow and weak.
As you yank your dagger out of the man's side you look up and see that the hunter has taken down two more men and is occupied with a third, their swords locked crosswise together. The attacker, who you belatedly recognize as one of the guards who was stationed outside the gate not an hour ago, shifts his stance and presses forward, his blade inching closer to the hunter's face.
Din Djarin grunts and, in a move you've never seen the likes of before, uses his sword to twist the other right out of the man's hands. He shifts his grip and, fast as a streak of lightning, brings the gleaming steel down on the attacker's delicate neck.
The silence that follows is interrupted only by your shared, labored breathing. The hunter stoops to wipe his bloodied sword on the fabric of the headless man's tunic, then stands and faces you. 
You grit your teeth, standing up straight, dagger still firmly gripped in your hand. 
"Thank you," you tell him. He nods once.
"Gather your things," he says, as though it's the most obvious statement in the world. He begins searching through the men's clothing, emptying their pockets of coin and small weapons.
You balk. "Excuse me?"
"Gather your things," he repeats, "we don't have much time. There could be more approaching as we speak, we must go."
"We? I am not going anywhere with you, you… you…"
The hunter looks up at you with tired eyes. "Then you will die."
It is so blunt, so honest, that your mouth snaps shut with the realization that he's right. You look around the room - a space that was once a haven for you to execute your duties as a noble woman is now littered with the bodies of traitors. This place can no longer guarantee your safety, not when the very men charged with protecting you were the ones to nearly kill you.
A strand of hair has come untucked from your wimple and veil. You feel it brushing your forehead, out of place and irksome. With a trembling hand, you reach up and tuck it away under the white linen that marks you a married woman.
"Very well."
There are only a few things you know you must bring: your Bible, a wooden box filled with coin, your mother's ring, and an extra set of garments. You decide at the last moment to pack your parchment, wax, stamp, and writing implements, just in case.
Din Djarin walks with long, determined strides, sure-footed without room for question. Keeping pace beside him, you avert your eyes when you pass the body of your handmaiden; she was one of few kindnesses you were allowed in this place, and to see her light snuffed out like that of a candle would surely test your resolve more than anything else you've been through today. You follow the hunter down the stairs and out into the main foyer, where the grand front doors stand wide open. As you step through them, you close them behind you. You'll have to write to someone - anyone, but most likely your husband's brother, who lives the nearest of any of the family - to ask that they look after the estate. That they clean up the mess you've left behind.
It sours your heart to think of the damage you're causing the family, running off in the night like this, but if you stay any longer you'll surely be killed. Especially if you're alone, without guards.
Shutting and locking the doors must do for now.
Outside, all is quiet. A horse grazes on the lawn; you assume this must be his, for you've never seen the buckskin mare before. You immediately make your way to the stables, where your beloved stallion should be waiting. The ink-black horse, called Voyager, has been in your care since he was a colt. His temper is volatile with everyone except you and it's a small comfort knowing your companion will come along.
You saddle the horse with as much haste as you can manage, securing your belongings inside the leather saddlebags. Then, though your skirts limit your mobility somewhat, you mount Voyager and guide him out of the stables.
Djarin is waiting near the outer gates. He sits upon his horse with a hand on his hip, watching you. Though his expression remains stony, something in his posture tells you he's surprised to see you so comfortable in the saddle.
"What?" you ask, though it comes out a bit more defensive than you intended. "Surely you didn't think I spent all my waking hours in that dreadful tower, did you?"
The hunter says nothing. There's a beat, a moment of silence drawn out too long, and then he takes the reins in one hand and turns towards the path that leads away from your home. You'll have to cut through the forest to avoid the village, even though night has fallen, to avoid any chance of anyone seeing the two of you leaving together.
As you follow your reluctant protector away from your home, away from the monument to the family you married into not long ago, you do not turn and look back.
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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 years ago
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hi yes im still alive
DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST--
HAVING A MOMENT TO PROCESS ALL THE LORE AND STORY CHAPTER 6 JUST DROPPED ON US, I CAN BARELY WRITE
AHHHHHHH, I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS 😭 kjdbbaufbiafafvoaybo LEMME PUT ON MY THINKING CAP AND THROW SOME STUFF OUT ASDYUBUASDLI;AGVUOQIB;VI You’ll understand why I used Leona’s face here even though it’s Idia and Ortho’s chapter after you read my thoughts--
***Chapter 6 (and other main story) spoilers below the cut!***
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Okay, just to keep it simple, I’ll try to keep things in chronological order!
First is a bullet point list of my thoughts on chapter 6 so far, then all my questions and theories (mostly a biggish theory on Ace) are at the end of the post.
Expectation: Idia cowering in his room, Vil and Rook busting down his door using Epel as a battering ram, dead Ortho theory confirmed
Reality: SWAT TEAM RAID ON NRC, DORM LEADERS (sans Kalim) AND JAMIL GET KIDNAPPED
Admittedly, I’m disappointed to see that the injury Grim inflicted to MC was basically just a cat scratch and nothing more. I thought it would be a lot more impactful if MC had to deal with juggling the realization that Grim has betrayed their friendship and trust while also on the verge of death (or at least while being severely injured)... And given how MC reacted to the attack at the end of chapter 5, I would think whatever struck them was much more substantial than just a cat scratch. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say either the script got scrubbed by Disney, or the intent was that MC was still woozy from VDC / OB Vil, MC felt so betrayed that it shook them emotionally, or that MC was just that weak by default that they can’t defend themselves against cat claws.
Hey, Ramshackle’s finally getting renovated! Proceeds to immediately get destroyed again--
I feel like????????? They tried to retroactively explain why Neige won to try and mitigate the uproar over how VDC ended. There’s some dialogue between the VDC group about how they didn’t perform at their peak because of having just walked out of dealing with OB Vil, and how Neige’s fans were going to vote for him anyway because they resonated with his background. Honestly, I think they should have moved on from that sore spot instead of bringing it up again, even if how chapter 5 ended didn’t personally bother me.
BOOM, HERE COME THE TWST TERMINATORS--
NOT GONNA LIE, THOSE STYX GUYS LOOK HOT SO COOL
AAAAAAND IT’S KIDNAPPING MONTAGE TIME, KIDS
JOABSFHUPAUABDBADB CALM DOWN, RIDDLE??????? YOU’RE GOING TO COMMIT ARSON IN BROAD DAYLIGHT--
Okay, I know this chapter’s focused on Ignihyde and Grim, but the standout part to me (so far) has been the scene where Leona’s being kidnapped. Historically, Leona has not been a character that I like (excluding that one time I had to pretend to like him for a game). I feel like he’s one massive missed opportunity (he didn’t show up much in chapter 2, he’s pretty similar backstory-wise to his Disney counterpart compared to the other Dorm Leaders, he didn’t seem to learn anything or become a better person even a LITTLE after chapter 2, etc.). I’m not a fan of his lazy and arrogant attitude either (even if it is justified by his backstory). But here? THIS IS THE LEONA I ACTUALLY LIKE AND WANT TO SEE MORE OF. 
LIKE????? I CAN’T DESCRIBE TO YOU HOW MUCH I LIKE THIS SCENE???? Yeah, we have Leona fighting STYX at first, but as soon as he realizes who they are, he wises up and surrenders because he knows better than to resist arrest. AND NOT ONLY THAT, but he uses King’s Roar in a smart way--to turn the falling greenhouse glass panes into sand so they don’t hurt anyone nearby (namely him and Ruggie).
And after he turns himself in????? LEONA TELLS RUGGIE TO TAKE CARE OF SAVANACLAW FOR HIM!!! THIS is what a real leader would do. He looks after himself and his people, but he knows when to surrender, AND he leaves his “kingdom” (the dorm) in good hands while he’s away. THIS is the Leona I want to see.
AJBDUASHPFBUABFIABIYFBIPFAAFIAF I ALSO REALLY LIKE HIS SASS WHEN HE JUST THROWS HIS HANDS UP AND ASDBIASBIABAIODDAYOFAIPPADAIDB SAYS “I’ll go with you, but be careful while escorting me, okay? Despite my looks, I'm a precious prince. I’ll get sick/dizzy if you drive recklessly.” SARCASTIC SASSY SMARTASS??????? IF YOU HAD MORE LINES LIKE THIS, I’D LIKE YOU MORE
I love how Azul’s still talking about capitalism/how he can profit from Idia (apparently the Shrouds are like the TWST equivalent of Google??????) as he’s being escorted away by the agents?????? IF I WERE HIM, I’D BE PISSED OFF THAT THEY INTERRUPTED MY BOARD GAME????? At least let the man finish first--
Damn, everyone’s being tasered???????? And apparently all the STYX agents are equipped with anti-magic plates? I guess Bind the Heart can just eat shit then--
Lilia’s ringtone is cute, period.
CROWLEY CALLED STYX TO CAPTURE GRIM???? GRIM IS OFFICIALLY A SCP THAT NEEDS TO BE CONTAINED????
WAIT WHAT CROWLEY’S BEING KIDNAPPED TOO??????? Oh well, the school is probably safer in Trein’s hands anyway--
askhlbfbilhidbabbidasb RIDDLE WAKES UP POST KIDNAPPING AND HE’S USING LEONA AS A LAP PILLOW?????!
How does it feel to be held in a room against your will, Jamil? Yeah, don’t like a taste of your own medicine, do you?
OH HI IDIA, NICE YZMA MAD SCIENTIST GETUP YOU GOT THERE
Wait, what????? THAT’S IT?????? SERIOUSLY???????
MAN.
I have so many questions??????? Specifically about STYX and what they do, and how the Shrouds are tied into all of it.
So they say STYX is a specialized unit called in to quell serious Overblot cases. And if Crowley called them to deal with Grim... well, bad times ahead for Grim. STYX has also been studying Overblot for a long time, which is why (I think?) they captured Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, and Vil. 
There’s been some allusions made between Grim and Stitch in a lot of fan art and fan theories I’ve seen, since their struggles have some parallels: that being them struggling to decide if they are “good” or “bad”. I don’t know if this was intentional on the part of the TWST writing team, but regardless, it’s a really good concept that plays into the themes of TWST itself. There’s no good, there’s no evil, no black and white--most of the characters we see may be BASED on villains, but that doesn’t MAKE them villains. They are good, and bad, in their own ways--and now Grim is dealing with that crisis as he fights to keep his sanity and avoid completely succumbing to Overblot.
Though Idia seems to be involved with STYX’s research, it doesn’t sound like he personally gave the order to retrieve those test subjects (or at the very least, he’s not happy about roughing up the test subjects), it sounds like the orders came from other people in the organization. His parents, perhaps?
They mention briefly that Idia’s parents are asking him to “come home”, so it must be for something urgent. Are they worried about his safety? But Idia’s lines at the end of chapter 5 lead me to think he is estranged from his family, since he straight up rejected a job offer linked to them (Olympus Corp is owned by the Jupiter family, and the Shrouds are a branch family of Jupier), and says something like “I’m not welcome anywhere”. Has Idia done something to disgrace him from the rest of the family? Or is it more of a self imposed/self inflicted statement, given that he always says he’s “cursed” and acts like he’s guilty of something that deserves scorn?
Why is Idia participating in STYX research, even if it means experimenting on his fellow students (and fellow board game enthusiast Azul)? People are speculating that he wants to use blots to fully revive Ortho (if dead Ortho theory is true), or that Idia actually has heroic intentions (he wants to know more about blots to prevent OBing from happening?), but at this point??? Literally anything could happen?!
In future parts, I’m guessing Pomefiore, MC, and Adeuce will team up to break Jamil and the Dorm Leaders (except Malleus, Malleus got left out again www) out? And HOPEFULLY we get to see Rook’s Unique Magic or at least more screen time, since I feel like he got so little in chapter 5... Another thing I’d like to see is Ace and/or Epel getting their Unique Magic, or at least starting to develop it. It’s really mostly Ace I want more details for.
A theory I’ve been holding onto for a long time is that Deuce getting his UM will spur Ace on to become jealous (since he has always seen Deuce as an idiot/”lesser” than him), and that will cause a rift in the friendship, or for Ace to throw himself into a dangerous situation to prove himself (he has done it before with Riddle)... and has his ass rescued again. This would make Ace even angrier, since he feels like everyone is treating him like a little kid or rubbing it in that he isn’t “as good” as they are. I don’t know where it would go from there (I’m sure TWST would get creative), but ultimately it would culminate in Ace making amends with everyone and rushing in to save them from either Grim or Idia OB.
I don’t think Ace would discover his UM in a similar manner as Deuce (Deuce had to embrace his own stubbornness and straightforwardness, but as the term “Unique” Magic implies, the way a magic develops and manifests is “unique” to the user). While Deuce has to learn to accept his own way of thinking, I believe Ace is already sure of his own way of thinking and has totally accepted it. I think what Ace has to deal with instead is coming to terms with his fickleness. We’ve seen him time and time again treating his loved ones kind of callously, from constantly bullying MC, Grim, and Deuce to ghosting his own girlfriend and flaking on people when they are counting on him to do a task.
The issue with Ace isn’t that he isn’t aware, it’s that he is aware and he seems to think this behavior is totally okay. He demonstrates little to no remorse in what he does and says, and he doesn’t seem to care about the consequences either (how many times does he get punished by Riddle, yet he keeps doing the same dumb things over and over?). Ace appears to operate under the mindset of always being in the right, or (if he’s in the wrong), he won’t really acknowledge it, or he will wave it off as “no big deal”--and I think that’s his greatest weakness.
In the scenario I described earlier, I mentioned that Ace’s jealousy will cause a wedge between him and his friends, and I think this will play into him realizing the error of his ways. When he has finally driven away all of the people that supported him, what will he have left? Nothing. Then maybe Ace suddenly finds himself relating to Idia, or to Grim, who have Overblotted and are in a similar emotional state as he is. Confused and lonely... and that energizes him to pitch in again, even if all he has is wind magic up his sleeve. Everyone could be shocked that Ace has returned, and in that moment, he could finally realize his true potential and unlock his Unique Magic!
(Maybe that’s too specific, but that’s a scenario that I’ve had playing in my head for a long time!)
... Buuuuut given that Ace has gotten little to no spotlight so far in chapter 6, I’m not sure if they’ll lean into him developing his UM yet (unless they pull a chapter 5 and really start addressing Ace in the latter half of the chapter like they did with Deuce). Seeing as chapter 6 is dealing with a lot of heavy topics (death, Grim lore, Overblot lore), I’m thinking maybe the TWST team will push off Ace’s UM development to chapter 7???? The only way I can see it happening in chapter 6 is if the chapter is SUPER long, or if the writing is REALLY good or really bad. 
Anyway, I’m keeping my fingers crossed!!! I’m so excited for the rest of chapter 6... I hope that we don’t have to wait too long for it!
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TEN OUTTA TEN 1010
Welp, its happened. I’m into No Straight Roads, and the boys with the K-Bop in their step has got me hooked.
So I’m gonna celebrate (for the moment) with lots of gathered info I’ve found, seen, or heard speculated, regarding the Top Boy Band of Vinyl City... 1010. [Possible OCs to come later]
Some of this stuff might be common knowledge, some is already on the wiki, but hey, no shame in having a consolidated list.
But for now...
The Names of 1010 were deciphered by out of universe fans. They are Rin (White), Haym (Yellow), Eloni (Green), Purlhew (Blue) and Zimelu (Red).
An old placeholder model for 1010 had Black Hair and different tron lines.
1010 in binary is... literally just 10.
Eloni does not get fan letters; He’s the “Funny Band member”, and Funny Band Members don’t get fan letters.
1010 wears Sailor uniforms (The US Navy would call them Dress Blues, so think... Popeye. But no hat.) In fact, their flying limo is a god damn Tron-lined Battleship. Even the Cannons dance to the music.
They’re a parody on K-Bop bands or Boy Bands to the West. And while they’re listed as Funky, they’re technically Synthpop. (Haha, Synth)
In the background of their fight, when the Battleship Limo stops for pictures, you can see that there is a set of pictures of 1010. Rin the White has a Fuschia or Purple Background, while all the others have a background matching their aesthetic colors.
1010 have common powers... ... Firing Lasors. ... Levitation (Or small time Flight; as they rush to the side to meet the Cameras) ... “Taking to the Sky”, or just really powerful jumping. ... Being powered by Cheers. ... There’s a reason I left Shield off in a moment.
1010 are both outrageously tall (Mayday only comes to their waist when they stand up properly), and outrageously heavy (did you hear them walk backward in their intro cutscene? How heavy are these guys!?)
It could whatever kind of AI they have, but they are waaaay insynch, almost preemptively. Perhaps 1010 are directly linked to each other?
In most of their appearances outside of battle, they all have the same colored eyes as their aesthetic colors. But in Battle, they all have White eyes. Mind that in their Show Stopper picture, they’re back to having their aesthetic eyes again. Take that as you will.
1010 has associated attacks, when you’re in the Phase facing the Factory and Neon J. ... Yellow has Missiles or Splash Damage explosions. No literally, the yellow droid is the missle. ... Green has Bombs. HIS HAIR IS A BOMB. ... Red has Saws. He-He literally uses Red Droid as the Saw. ... Blue has some sort of Staffs or Whirlwind strike. They are staffs made of Purl-Hew. ... Because of his Picture’s Purple Background, White’s likely isn’t an attack but is, in fact, the Shields that occured early in the battle. Which is probably why they’re never deployed, because how the hell can you make a shield out of Rin Bots.
It was pointed out in one of the many Youtube Comment Sections that 1010′s hairstyles match their respective attacks in some form or fashion. ... Zimelu’s Mohawk indicates his associated Saws. ... Haym’s hair looks like a missile. ... Eloni’s hair looks line a Grenade Pin. ... Purlhew’s flat top hair could indicate the fact that he’s literally used as a Staff End. So basically he’s Blue. That’s his attack. [Hah] ... Rin’s the sexy one. Look, for a Band of Robots with fancy hairdos and attacks, he’s not considered remarkable.
As they are a parody of Boy Bands across the World, they may follow the boy band “archtypes” ... Rin is the Leader, and the Heartthrob (He doesn’t have a weird hairstyle, and he does the most flirting / talking; as well as the most promoted) ... Eloni, as already established, is the Funny Guy, or the Comedian. ... Purl-Hew is the Cool Guy, (consider his Sunglasses) ... Zimelu is the Bad Boy (Mohawk, his ANGRY EYES AARGH) ... Haym’s is apparently considered a Pompadour. Maybe he is also a Bad Boy? Consider his name, he may be the Smart Guy. ... There is no known “Shy Guy” or “Cute Guy (Technically, the Second Heartthrob, but isn’t a threat to first Heartthrob’s position). So, go forth and create.
Fun Consideration on my part. Since Names can have meaning in No Straight Roads and meaning in personal names... ... Rin is a japanese name, and boy can it mean a lot of stuff depending on the Kanji (Some of the meanings are “Dignified” “Compassion” “Cold”). He’s probably coolly impassionate off stage. ... Purl-Hew is apparently a pun on Pearl Hue (cos I guess blue Pearls). Perhaps he likes puns. ... Zimelu is an ooold fortress in Lativa apparently. Perhaps he has a warish personality. Or I guess knows very Niche military history. (Perhaps, in-universe, it was the name of a base Neon J served at?) ... Haym is the name shared by a few people, but in the themes of music, its probably Nicola Francesco Haym (Italian Poet, Opera Librettist, Composer, Manager, Editor and Numismatist (That’s uh, a guy who studies Currency)). Perhaps our Haym is quite the Nerd. ... the name Eloni means Lofty. Which can me “Of Imposing Height” (They all are), “Noble or Exalted Nature” (Possibly?) “Proud, Aloof or Self-Important” (They all are that too, yes), or in regard to Lofty Wool “Thick and Resilient” (I mean, if you look at those thighs-- Ahem). So basically Eloni’s name defines all the group... Wow, poor fella. No wonder he’s the Comedian, he’d have to pull anything to get noticed (when its not about his hair) [THE DUDE DABS]
If Battledroids all have background memories to be more efficient in combat... Does 1010 have backup memories from Neon J?
Metro Division shows other kinds of Robots, and the progression of 1010′s Mark Models (1 looks like your typical Sailor, 2 looks a bit like our 1010 but more droid, jointed and blocky, and our 1010 is currently mark 3... There are 4 known Types of Droid, so a 4th Mark may be on the way)
Neon J, Manager and Creator, is a Vetren of Vinyl City’s Navy (It only has a Navy); and his District is literally a Theme Park mashed with a Ship Yard.
Neon is the 10th element of the Periodic Table, and J is the 10th letter. Dude loves his 10s.
Considering how he replaces the bots in battle, or even outright uses them as weapons... Perhaps his “Troops” are not the Bot bodies, but the AI possibly hosted inside? 1010 has more personality out of battle after all, and Neon is seen fervently protecting 1010 when their eyes share their hair color. (As their eyes are only white in battle...) Hm, mayhaps the HC is, that when their Eyes have color, the AI is truely present.
Neon is a Cyborg, note that his body appears to be the same kind of droid as 1010′s, with a Radar head. His brain is apparently in his radar, and as we saw post-battle, that head was smashed to hell. Perhaps the reason he was reminiscing so much and though that BBJ was really after him, was because of some serious onset head or brain trauma.
Apparently, Vinyl City has or has had Border Wars. This could be a reference to the Korean DMZ Conflicts (As 1010 does distinctly include Korean K-Pop, and South Korean men do have to serve 2 years in the military forces by law), but there have been hundreds of different Border Wars throughout the world. [ I wonder what war Vinyl City was in. Perhaps against the Artist Capital of the World, Canvas City ] [ Oh take me down to the Canvas City, where the grass is green and the pics are pretty--]
Neon’s passion is Dancing.
Neon J and DJ Subatomic Supernova do seem to be in a lot of pictures together. No wonder everybody ships them.
Neon J used to make toys, as seen by the collectibles you can get. Done by hand too. Though if each toy found is a stage in his life... I wonder who the doll with the violin is.
Think maybe Neon J has direct control over 1010? I mean they share the same voice, they have a passion for poses and dancing, he does directly command them...
Are Cyborg parts cheap? Or was Neon J someone important enough in the Vinyl City Navy to actually become a cyborg? Military doesn’t do expensive prosthetic surgeries for random grunts without reason.
Okay, regarding what the Azkar faction is. Its probably suppose to be Askar. Azkar is a type of Islamic Prayer. Askar is actually Arabic for Army. So it’d be The “Army Faction” (which makes more sense for a nation city-state that only has a Navy)
The place he called “Kewan” is not a real world place. Its either Persian for “Saturn” (What, is he... Is he a SAILOR SCOUT!?) or Kurdish for Mountains (He does mention mountains).
Possibly more as information arises.
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amphtaminedreams · 4 years ago
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Sitting Front Row at...(On a Budget Obvs): Lookbook no.15
Hey to anyone reading!
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And welcome to my fave lookbook I’ve done in a longggg ass time! Yes, that’s partially because it involved making collages and doing the low effort work of scouring Vogue Runway for “research purposes”, but I promise, that statement wasn’t made out of COMPLETE laziness-I am super happy with it too. It’s been a good use of pre-part-lockdown-lift time in the interim between that brief period of Christmas celebrations and eateries finally fucking opening again because let’s be honest, I always knew I was gonna get distracted by oat milk vanilla lattes and veggie all day breakfasts once I could actually sit down with them at my fave local cafe. You could say I was very much operating on a self-imposed deadline.
The “what I would wear to sit front row at...[insert designer here]” TikTok/Instagram reel trend was something I wanted to get on board with ever since I first saw one and whilst the option of doing my own live action take-I really cannot bear the thought of having to edit footage of myself awkwardly attempting to sit nonchalantly in front of a camera for hours on end-was off the cards considering my complete lack of screen presence, I decided a Tumblr text post would work just as well, and if not even better in a way. Given the absence of the time limitations you face when you’re making a reel or a TikTok I thought it’d be cool to present the looks as part of a mini moodboard for each designer which adds a bit of context to each look even if you aren’t familiar with their past collections and establishes the general vibe of the brand I’m attempting to replicate. Not to sound snotty or as if I am the font of all knowledge on anything high fashion related but even with my amateur knowledge I noticed that as the video trend took off and was adopted by big name influencers, it became less about the average person putting their own personal spin on the aesthetic of the labels we can’t ordinarily afford and more about them building outfits that only vaguely resemble the general public perception of the brand around the real corresponding (and often gifted and thus inaccessible to someone who doesn’t makes thousands for a sponsored post) pieces they own SO I thought I’d take the trend back to its roots and get a bit resourceful. All that being said, in no particular order, here are the outfits I would wear to sit front row at Gucci, Vera Wang, Miu-Miu, Marc Jacobs, Dolce & Gabbana, Brock Collection, Alexander McQueen, Etro, Burberry aaaand Saint Laurent based on their past collections and guess what? They didn’t cost a shit tonne of money :-)
-disclaimer: will include an asterisk before any new purchases if from a high street store though to be honest, I don’t think there are any, we shall see! I do include where I got old purchases from in case anyone wants to search anything on Depop/Ebay-
1. Saint Laurent (formerly Yves Saint Laurent)
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-blazer from identityparty on Depop, pleather trousers from Zara, jewellery from Dolls Kill-
I know technically abbreviating Saint Laurent to YSL doesn’t really make much sense anymore given the brand’s name change in 2012, but I’ll always think of it as that in the same way I’ll always associate it with the slightly dishevelled yet simultaneously glitzy rock n’ roll aesthetic. The thing is, whilst YSL hasn’t done anything wildly out of the box for a long time, it’s rare they put a look on the runway that I wouldn’t wear; they never end up being a fashion week standout but the Parisienne take on grunge we’ve seen Anthony Vaccarello establish as his go-to will always have a place in my heart. 
2. Alexander McQueen
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-embroidered leather jacket from Ebay (originally Topshop), harness from Amazon, dress from ASOS, boots from Koi Vegan Footwear-
Alexander McQueen is a brand that is pretty much universally liked, from the historically extravagant and groundbreaking shows the man himself put together to Sarah Burton’s more toned down but still beautiful collections. Obviously I didn’t attempt to do justice to the former, so I tried my hand at putting together a look inspired by Sarah’s blend of delicate femininity and nomadic edge, and it went...okay? Like it’s definitely not my favourite of all the looks because it does give off slightly cheap copycat vibes buuut outside of the context of this lookbook it’s cute.
3. Brock Collection
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-boater hat from Ebay, midi skirt from morganogle on Depop, corset top from ownmode_, heels from amybeckett1, bag from Primark-
Brock isn’t as well known a brand as most of the others in this list but I adore everything Laura Vassar Brock does and I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to try and channel the vision of one of the OG pioneers of the cottagecore vibe through my own wardrobe. I mean fr, this woman’s work as a steady provider of meadow photoshoot worthy dresses and corsets and skirts is v slept on and I will not stand for it. I will sit in front of a camera and then write a paragraph in my blog post begging anybody who reads to give LVB (an abbreviation I acknowledge is unlikely to catch on because Lisa Vanderpump anybody?) some form of acknowledgement for her services to period romance novel inspired moodboards everywhere.
4. Marc Jacobs
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-coat from House of Sunny, white shirt from Retro World Camden, co-ord from Sugar Thrillz, bag from Poppy Lissiman-
If there’s one thing Marc Jacobs always does, it’s COMMITS. TO. HIS. THEME. I just KNOW he has a secret Pinterest with separate boards for every fashion era of the 20th century and he is putting those boards to good use providing us with collections that are as immersive as they are eclectic year in year out. 
5. Miu Miu
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-beret from H&M, hair clips from H&M, jewellery from Primark, coat from mollyyemmaa on Depop, shirt from YesStyle, sweater vest from YesStyle, skirt from Depop, diamanté belt from Brandy Melville, shoes from Koi Vegan Footwear-
We all like to talk about Bratz dolls and Monster High dolls and Barbies as fashion inspo but can we all focus on Cabbage Patch dolls for two secs so as to acknowledge the fact that a Miu Miu collection is basically all their fits grown up? And made boujie as fuck? If I want my fix of Wes Anderson meets Scream Queens (what a combo) inspired outfits, if I want prissy and girlish but also glam, if I want to look like a bratty rich girl whose one redeeming quality is her eye for vintage clothes, I know where to look and that is the Miu Miu section of Vogue Runway. 
6. Vera Wang
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-blazer as in no.1, velvet bralet from catdegaris on Depop, harness from Amazon, skirt from Ebay, knee high socks from Ebay, lace up boots from Ebay-
Vera Wang’s RTW aesthetic, a blend of the ethereal, ultra-feminine bridal designs she’s known for and British style punk rock influences, is something I feel has only become firmly established in recent years but it is everything I ever wanted and more. I always find myself trying to balance the part of me that loves everything girly and delicate and pretty and the part of me that would love to be in a biker gang and Vera’s collections are always an inspirational reminder of just how well it can be done.
7. Burberry
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-coat from charity shop, suit from emmafisher3 on Depop, top from simranindia, shirt underneath from Zara, jewellery from ASOS-
Now I’m not gonna lie, I’m not the biggest fan of Burberry but there have been a few looks over the past few years I’ve really liked and as someone who owns numerous trench coats, high necks and way too much plaid, I thought it’d be an easy one to replicate. Plus, if you can count on Riccardo Tisci for nothing else you at least can rely on him giving you some layering inspo which is very much needed in a country where it literally just snowed in April and where my plans for today have just been cancelled because the iPhone weather app did a Karen Smith and didn’t predict rain for today right up until it started raining so thanks for that one British meteorologists. Your incompetence strikes again.
8. Etro
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-corset from Urban Outfitters, vinyl trench coat from Topshop, boots from Ebay, black slip dress from kaoanaoleinik on Depop, fur trim afghan coat from louisemarcella-
Like with Brock Collection, Etro isn’t a hugely well known brand, but it is always one of my favourites-to add a spanner into the works of any attempts to cultivate a firm sense of personal style, I live for the ornate Bohemian look that Etro does so well just as much as I love both grungy and girly pieces, and so I really wanted to include a brand whose collections go down that route. It was a toss-up between this and Zimmerman, the flirtier, free spirit counterpart to the dark romance of Veronica Etro’s designs; her vision really shines through the most when it comes to the brand’s winter collections, imo, and given that I live in a country where winter or some weather state resembling it does seem to take up 70% of the year, I did decide on channelling her work rather than that of the equally talented Nicky and Simone Zimmermann this time round.
9. Dolce & Gabbana
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-flower crown from ASOS, tiara from Amazon, earrings from YesStyle, dress from alicealderdice1 on Depop, opera gloves from Ebay, boots from Koi Vegan Footwear-
D&G is a brand I felt really conflicted about doing-I don’t include their current collections in my fashion week reviews based on the actions of designers Stefano Gabbana and Domenico Dolce over the last few years because I don’t want to mitigate the collective effort of fashion critics to push them towards irrelevancy. Though people like to claim the brand has turned a corner since Lucio Di Rosa was brought on board as the manager of celebrity and VIP relations last year (they are as prolific a force on red carpet fashion as ever), we haven’t seen any real meaningful apologies or reparations made by Dolce and Gabbana themselves which once again leaves us in the all too familiar quandary of whether or not we can separate the art from the artist especially when it is far too much of a simplification to only credit the two men for their work given there’s a whole design team behind them. There are a LOT of shitty people working in fashion, the whole industry is a bit of a cesspit if we’re honest, but I don’t think that should stop us from at least being able to appreciate old collections if we make sure we aren’t engaging in any kind of promotion of current works whilst doing so. D&G are a brand of high highs and low lows, with looks that range from hideously ugly to showstoppingly beautiful in a single show-when the looks are good, they are GOOD-and their presence in the fashion world is most definitely felt whether we want it to be or not. It would just be shit to refuse to recognise the existence of some real iconic runway moments, the practical work that went into the ornate detail and opulence that helped cement D&Gs place in sartorial history, the styling that’s made goddesses and fairytale queens out of modern day women as they’ve glided down catwalks, the far more extravagant and, let’s be real, sexier version of our world D&G shows have transported us to in the past. Will I talk about D&G ever again? No, and if you Google the scandals their brand has faced over the past few years, there are more than enough reasons why, but just this once I did want to pay homage to some of the collections, the snippets of which I saw on my Tumblr dashboard back when I was about 13, that first got me into fashion.
10. Gucci
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-fur coat from Topshop, clips from Zaful, glasses from Ebay, dress from gracewright246 on Depop, shirt from Boohoo, blazer from charity shop-
Now last but, if you ever read any of my fashion week reviews (the likelihood of someone actually having read one of them and reading this is incredibly, incredibly slim lol, I wouldn’t read me either) you’ll know, definitely not least, is Gucci because Alessandro Michele comes through every!! single!! time!!
The man is truly the king of quirky throwback maximalism and it hurts my heart that a lot of people seem to think of it only as a brand associated with ostentatious displays of wealth. Year after year since Michele was made creative director he has released purposeful, fully-fleshed out collections which unravel themselves to us on the runway like time capsules containing the belongings of the rich and whimsical and yes that can sometimes result in outfits which are *ahem* a bit mismatched but it doesn’t matter because through fashion he manages to take us to a vivid version of the past where people could dress as freely and lavishly as they wanted to, into the wardrobe of a person unaffected by the side-eyeing of others. You get the impression he doesn’t design so much as plays around with some kind of enchanted dress up box and takes inspiration from there and to give that impression is only a credit to his talent-to make outfits so kooky and extravagant look like they were meant to be takes a boldness and genuine love for clothes that I do tend to feel a lot of the big name designers have lost in the pursuit of profit and the necessary placating of the dying customer base that keeps that coming in. Of course I'm not for a second saying Gucci does not care about profit, but at the very least, they have on board a creative director who genuinely has fun with what they’re putting out there and wants to make a statement too and that really shows; you can rest on your laurels and sell tweed boucle jackets to rich old white women for eternity but nobody’s going to mention your brand name and the word groundbreaking in the same sentence ever again unless they’re talking about what it was a century ago, you know (mentioning no names...unless...did I hear someone say Chanel)? That feels like such a shady way to end, lol, but I’m sure said brand will survive-to be fair, they’ve been included in every other What I’d Wear to Sit Front Row At video I’ve seen so although I’m always slagging them off for doing the saaaaame thinggggg year after year, for that same reason their aesthetic is instantly recognisable and so will always be a source of imitation. There are obviously pros and cons to being a brand which constantly reinvents itself but I think it’s totally possible to do that whilst maintaining an overall mission, and Alessandro Michele’s work at Gucci demonstrates that with ease.
Anyway, if you got to here, thanks for reading! I know I’m super behind on this whole TikTok trend and I know a Tumblr post instead of a video is a bit of a cop out but all the real, physically awkward ones out there know that watching yourself back is excruciating lmao, so I hope this does the trick. After this, I’m gonna get back to the reviewing S/S21 collections post though knowing me I’ll probs take a few days to get back into that because I feel like since I left full-time education (RIP me going back in a few months) writing continuously like this for any longer than about 15 mins fries what brain cells I have left. Again, thank you for reading and if you are, sending many good vibes your way! Stay safe!
Lauren x
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errabundus-nox · 4 years ago
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Hello, I wrote a ficlet dealing with my fav daozhang (XXC). The idea of Song Lan fearful of touching XXC after his revival because of his brute strength as a fierce corpse popped into my head while conversating with someone.
Canon Divergence. XXC Revives!
Song Lan / Xiao Xing Chen
Angst(y), T rated.
Biblichor
Song Lan succeeds.
He feels the infinitesimal shift of the pale, still man beneath him. His ears pick up the tiny flutter of heartbeats, the twitch in his fingers.
The breath of air exhaled.
Song Lan swallows a hard lump down his throat, eyes - Xiao Xing Chen's eyes - unblinking. Afraid that this would be the ruin of the phenomenon unfurling before him.
How much time has he spent? Unsleeping and fasting, piecing together Xiao Xing Chen's spirit in this dingy, abandoned shack he had placed his coffin in.
Where demonic talents had failed, and righteous teachings have all but set him up for an unfeasible task, he succeeded.
“Zichen – “his voice like sandpaper rasps.
Beside him, Song Lan’s fingers curled against the edge of the coffin in a knuckle white grip, splintering wood. Seeing eyes zeroed in on the man that had just roused, a white bandage sitting on high and delicate cheekbones, face bereft of color. Xing Chen’s skin was parchment thin and looked so fragile, almost translucent in the glowing embers of dawn. His all-white robes casting an almost distant and ethereal quality to him.
Song Lan fears that he might just break him with a single touch.
“Zichen,” Xing Chen’s raspy voice tries again, a slight edge of firmness to it that washes relief through Song Lan. Xing Chen struggles to pull himself up, joints stiff and body uncoordinated from a prolonged period of disuse.
Song Lan reaches over to his back and helps Xing Chen sit up, with barely any pressure behind his touch. Xing Chen couldn’t help a small shiver as the air moves around him. It wasn’t a cold day, with the rising sun emitting its warmth. Song Lan doesn’t hesitate to remove his outer robes and drapes it across Xing Chen’s shoulders. He reaches out and puts a cup gingerly against cold lips.
Drink this first, Song Lan voices out mentally.
He feels the ghost of his breath pass through his fingers, a soft gasp escaping Xing Chen’s lips.
“Can you – “he sputters, fingers slowly reaching towards his right ear, to confirm his senses where his eyes could not.
Song Lan shook his head before he could stop himself.
No, was his answer.
Xing Chen could still feel the cup pressed on his lip. His fingers moved to grasp it, brushing against Song Lan’s. He takes a tentative sip, feels the prickling discomfort of liquid down his parched throat, and tries not to cough. The second sip is easier, and he empties the contents of the cup on the third.
Song Lan spent trudging up the path to the celestial mountain for many days.
He realizes, quickly, how much the world has changed during his absence.
The war was over, its demonic cultivators quelled all thanks to their heralded heroes but at the price of many. Even the fierce corpses that once plagued helpless villagers seemed to thin and disperse.
He spent days at the foot of the mountain, with each passing moment confirming his denied entry.
But in its silence, he found the answers.
This is the way of the world, that we seek to understand on common ground. To leave, would akin to finding your own answers and give meaning to matters once not understood.
Song Lan stood up, bowed deeply thrice, and made his journey back again.
He finds an abandoned wooden shack tucked just under the foothills, on the outskirts of a small town where the population was sparse. He makes quick work of setting up wards to keep spirits and living beings away, and continued onwards.
Song Lan never feared death. Just like Xing Chen in their ideologies – if they could turn their views into a positive force, to something tangible and of aid, then it would be this very ethos that would keep them immortal in the minds of men, surpassing their physical bodies.
Death was an irony to Song Lan at first. The stench of it made his skin crawl, intensifying the impulse to carve away the spidery veins that marked his skin, making him bear the stigma of something he once fearlessly cut down without a second thought; to cleanse the world of its impurities. Leaving behind wounds that would never heal, never close, yet never fester.
He returned to Yi City once again, knowing that bringing Xing Chen back to life in this forsaken city of dust and corpses would be cruel, and unfair.
It would remind him of Xue Yang’s manipulation and betrayal.
Of A-Qing’s demise.
Of their deaths.
Through actions not by his own hand, Song Lan could never bring himself to blame Xing Chen for the tragic role he had to play.
The villain had been rid, yet the friend he so wished badly to apologize to and atone for was not standing by his side.
Such was the determination of a man who toiled relentlessly, forgoing sleep and sustenance.
Not that these physical needs were needed for a reanimated corpse, no less.
Such were the efforts he took as he labored day and night into bringing the coffin on the back of a rickety cartwheel to the drab and dilapidated shack. The single goal burned into the back of his eyelids as he sat next to Xing Chen’s body lying in the coffin, the almost nothing weight of his soul in a brown pouch scribbled with red insignias between his hands.
The words of an apology repeated in his head over and over again, but failing to come out of his very own mouth.
Song Lan would achieve what others before him could not – by weaving his own consciousness and stitching Xiao Xing Chen’s soul back together again. The price he had to and was willing to pay.
They spend the next month not quite touching – Song Lan fearful of his newfound strength he struggled to control, vicious scenarios conjured at the back of his mind circling around causing unintentional hurt towards Xing Chen and his seemingly fragile state.
Xing Chen ripped from the claws of his self-imposed punishment and coming to terms that his death was not a resignation, but a chance for forgiveness given by others.
Those four walls weren’t quite home, but it sufficed for the both of them who wanted nothing much but only each other.
Song Lan would tend to Xing Chen’s gradual recovery and Xing Chen turned to weaving baskets, working the dexterity back into his fingers. Eventually, they found a pattern together, similar yet completely opposite of what they were accustomed to in what felt like another lifetime.
Nights when terror seized Xing Chen through nightmares, Song Lan would slide into the bed that he had built for them (Xing Chen, mostly) and hold him so tenderly. Xing Chen would wake with blood run tears soaking through his bandages, clinging tightly to the front of his robes, pressing kisses as light as a butterfly flitting through the flowers onto cool, thin lips.
I’m here, Song Lan would soothe repeatedly, a mantra that calmed hiccupping sobs broken by shuddering breaths into deep, even breathing.
In the darkness only illuminated by full moon, laid Song Lan and Xiao Xing Chen in a tender embrace. Separated only by the planes of existence - one, a dead man who walks amongst the living. Another, who's alive but borders so close to death. Song Lan finds it easier to shake off the dread that twists at his guts, that one day Xiao Xing Chen would traipse over the fine line between living and a place where he could barely follow after. Xiao Xing Chen gradually learns to overlook past his mistakes, turning the endless compassion he once had for others onto himself.
Eventually, they would make their way back to A-Qing’s grave. Song Lan was never fully certain if Xing Chen had the capacity to handle his grief right in front of her small, marked gravesite. However, he gave him privacy and a wide berth to grieve alone; knowing that Xing Chen’s newfound purpose would give him the strength to tide through soft anguished cries and blood-soaked bandages.
They take a small piece of rock surrounding her grave back with them, as a memory in honor of the brave girl that so relentlessly tried to seek justice for her Dao Zhang, back to a rightful place where they could settle and finally call home.
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Spoilers: Law & Order: Conviction (2006), Lead, Ripped, Venom, Fault, Informed, Infiltrated, Philadelphia, Florida, Screwed, Paternity, Inconceivable, Undercover, PTSD, Perverted
Trigger warnings: alcohol, references to death, casual sex, murder, pregnancy, childlessness, adoption, PTSD, nightmares, dissociation
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Evocations: XIX
If there is only one thing to know, it is this: The woman who exited Witness Protection in 2006 was not the woman who had once been the sharpest Special Victims Unit ADA in New York.
The death of Valez and the extradition of Connors that had permitted her freedom from anonymity also left Alexandra with a life bitten ragged around the edges. Her relationship with her father was never the same; as grateful as he was that his daughter was alive and well, the knowledge that Darcie had gone to her grave thinking Alex was dead was a deep scar to bear.
Everywhere she looked, there was a life she had begun building and then abandoned like a child grown bored of a toy. In Wisconsin, there had been Greg, in her second placement, another man left behind like Alex was some mythical creature they outgrew as they slumbered.
Only men, however - never another woman. It was an edict that had written itself beneath Alex's skin, without deliberation or protest.
She returned to Manhattan without much thought as to whether it was the best idea. It was where she had started her career, so logically it was where she had a professional reputation; not many strings had to be pulled to get herself up and running again. Bureau Chief Cabot had a fine ring to it, even if she did have to supervise a group of newbies chomping at the proverbial bit.
But make no mistake - it was as far from SVU as Alex could get. The soft, hopeful blonde that had dreamed of a life with Olivia Benson, who had grown up privileged and hungry for everything she could get from the world was no more. The Alexandra who resettled in Manhattan was buttoned-up, distrustful, and in it for the win rather than the moral high ground.
The new Alexandra was a woman who used sex to satisfy her need for contact and not much more; who chose her relationships for ease of placement, not depth. When she got lonely she had flings, and when one of those flings turned into an engagement, Alex shrugged and kept up appearances.
She had been Bureau Chief a little over a year when the phone calls started coming. The number she didn't recognize, but the voice on the message had turned her insides into a hot, riotous mix of desire and anxiety.
"Uh hi . . . Alex. It's Li - Olivia. I'd heard you've been back, so I wanted to call and see if you . . . how things are going. Call me back . . . if you want, y'know. You can use this number. Bye."
Olivia's voice on that first message was hesitant, nervous, fumbling. Alex heard all of the unspoken questions holding space between the carefully chosen words: How long have you been avoiding me? Are you okay? Have you forgotten me? Alex let the message sit for a week before deleting it in a moment of weakness, locked in her office drinking bourbon and letting her fingers dance over the phone receiver in entertainment of the idea of calling Liv back.
The second message appeared about two weeks after that.
"Alex," it began, and the put-on confidence made the blonde wonder if Olivia was drinking that time, herself. "Please just give me a call and let me know you're okay. I'm not looking to impose myself on your life."
As cold as it seemed . . . as it probably was, Alexandra still didn't pick up the phone. The illusionary distance that was still between herself and Liv was the only barrier that held firm her new persona. The Alex who didn't want to feel, didn't want to get too close to anything - not people, jobs or cases.
Next it was Elliot who called. Alex had wondered if they were still sleeping together as she listened to Elliot's low voice skirt the boundary of anger and pleading. Had Olivia asked him to call, or had he called on his own after a couple months of watching Liv gaze hungrily at the phone?
Either way, Alex still wasn't swayed. Her career as Bureau Chief ADA plodded forward, and the only time she spoke with Olivia was in her dreams. Another year passed that way, with the calls coming less and less often. Alexandra ended her engagement along the way - an act of mercy, she told herself.
Then another year, until at last she had been out of Witness Protection for three. She couldn't have known that the next time the phone would ring, it would be Jack McCoy. He, too, was asking her to walk directly back into Olivia Benson's orbit - just not for the same reasons.
.
.
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On the morning that Alex had left her for a second time, Olivia rose and for just the briefest moment thought that maybe things would be easier. She was quick to realize that, like a slip in quitting any addiction that consumes you, giving her up a second time would be even harder.
Liv put her heart into the work, and bit by bit, the year started to pass.
Then, on a cool evening in October, Olivia opened up her apartment door to find Elliot on the other side, eyes red-rimmed and temples pounding. Just hours before, he had attacked a man for abusing their son. She had no idea where El had disappeared to after that.
Liv hadn't yet had the need to seek out the weight and intensity of Elliot's body since her night with Alex. It had been at least seven months since they had slept together - but she secretly doubted it would ever make a difference. They fit together like two halves of a whole when it came to seeking out this sort of comfort. Soon, they were once again sleeping together as a means to dull the sharp edges of their pain.
The first year that Alexandra was back in Manhattan was such a whirlwind for Olivia that she couldn't have contacted her even if she had been aware of the ADA's presence. Right on the heels of discovering Finn's son had a half-brother that was a murderer, there was the Gitano case - the aftershocks of which were felt long into 2007.
"What about me?" she had murmured to Elliot, but it wasn't their falling into bed together she thought of - it was bigger than that.
She had already lost the love of her life twice over. Elliot was the only solid, steady thing left - the person she could trust, talk to or fuck easily, in equal measure. He kept Olivia anchored in a life where everything else seemed unmoored. If the threat was for that, too, to be taken away then Olivia would do it herself, and first: self-punishment as self-control.
In Oregon, sneaking around in the Hartnells' house, Liv wondered if Alex'd had as much trouble staying within the lines of her new life, back in Wisconsin. Perhaps Olivia was destined only for a singular life, no matter where else events lead her, because that singular life was right where she landed back in the city in 2007.
Right before she took off to Philadelphia, seeking out the brother that was no more than a DNA fingerprint, Liv had finally picked up the phone to call Alex - hoping, in part, that Alex would try to talk her out of it.
The phone never rang.
Philadelphia was a disaster.
Olivia's brother, a fugitive and maybe a rapist, was gone. She was drinking more frequently again, and rage-fucking her partner at every turn. Elliot's concern got him calling after the aloof blonde next, but she remained unmoved.
Summer began to bleed into Fall. Finn's nephew got away with murder, Liv's brother was innocent after all, and, after taking more than two years to sign his divorce papers, Elliot found himself back home with Kathy.
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Not prime parent material.
The phrase went around and around in her head after the meeting with the adoption agency. After Olivia first absorbed the news that Kathy was pregnant, she had moved quickly from surprise, to confusion, to jealousy.
Two and a half years, she had fucked Elliot relentlessly, letting him fill her with abandon, no fear of consequence. Not once had they used so much as a condom, and yet Liv hadn't even had a period late enough to raise questions. One night, and Kathy had caught pregnant like it was a common cold.
Elliot Stabler Junior's birth was as inopportune as his conception. His mother lay in the hazy veil between living and dying, while Olivia clutched his tiny body between her own and a foil blanket. When the dust settled, Liv took stock of things - Alex's not calling, Elliot's readymade family, Simon's drama - and decided that it was time for her to build her own family.
But the dream had been short lived. As the agency had put it, she was not prime parent material.
"Any way you want to do it, I'll support you," Elliot had told her, but what could she say?
How could she tell him that she wished his accidental pregnancy had been hers? She would not invite him back into her bed while he was at home. So she forced herself to smother everything that Eli's birth had stirred in her, and turned back to the work to escape the pressing weight of her loneliness.
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Perhaps, she told herself afterward, it had been for the best, as she spent the better part of 2008 struggling with PTSD that nobody knew existed. All through Summer and Fall, Olivia had soaked her sheets again and again with the nightmares that replayed Lowell Harris's face. She suffered the flashbacks, the dissociation, alone into November, when still just her therapy group knew.
That was, until she nearly blew Dominic Pruitt's head off. It was the alarming culmination of nine months that had seemed more full than usual of baby and pregnancy cases.
"I want you to take some personal time off," Cragen told her, and Liv listened - not because of the threat of noting her jacket, but because he was the closest she'd ever known to a father.
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The elderly gentleman who met Olivia on the sidewalk in front of his tidy bungalow gave her exactly the look she expected. Grinning, she lowered her sunglasses at him.
"Thank you for meeting with me! She's gorgeous!"
'She' was a pristine black Mustang that sat at the curb looking like a misplaced relic out of a greaser's fantasy.
The owner shook hands with her politely, still eyeing her as though he was being played a fool. "That she is! Took better care of her than my wife these last 20 years." He sniffed and chortled, trailing off as he remembered Liv was also a woman.
But Olivia wasn't listening - already pacing the perimeter of the stationary car, eyes twinkling and her heart pounding, in a good way for once. Careful not to touch anything, she came as close as she dared, eyeing the windshield, the tires, lights, interior. Clean, shiny, perfectly intact - the Mustang was a dream; Liv nearly salivated at the perfection of it.
"You wanna take a look at th'engine?" the man broke into her appraisal.
"Can I?" Liv breathed, excited, and it seemed to settle the old man some.
He popped the hood and allowed her to gaze her fill. Like the rest of the vehicle, the engine was practically spit-shined to gleaming.
"Incredible," Liv praised.
"Mm. Lois says I gotta let'ter go, and accept the fact that I look like a perfect fool driving it nowadays."
"I'm sure that's not true."
"Nawp," he shook his head, rhyming the word with 'top,' "nawp, she's right - I just don't like admittin' it. So, if you like her, she's yours."
Olivia was struck with a sudden pang of guilt. "Are you sure you don't want to leave it to a grandchild instead?"
The man raised a furry eyebrow at the brunette's sudden reluctance. "Got no grandchildren to speak of, so . . . likely not," he shrugged at last.
Liv nodded, understanding better than he might've realized. She didn't have the wife she had thought she would, or a child she had imagined would complete the picture. What she did have was enough cash in her savings to purchase a house in the suburbs outright, and a craving to get away.
"Then I'd love to take care of her," she told him with a smile.
"C'mon inside then, and I'll sign the pinks. Don't mind Lois," he added, "she'll no doubt want to make you eat somethin' . . . " He kept chatting as he headed up the walk, and Olivia could feel her pulse fluttering in anticipatory delight as she followed.
Fifteen minutes later, when Liv touched the convertible for the first time, it felt like grabbing a live wire. She dropped into the driver's seat with the pink slip in one hand, the feel of the leather almost indecently slick.
The man stood grinning at her from the curb, then tossed her the keys in a high arc that Liv caught easily. "Where're you gonna take her?" he asked, and she knew he meant more than just where she lived.
The engine purred to life like a cat rising from a satisfying nap, and Liv slid her sunglasses back into place. "Somewhere nice and warm," she smiled. "What's her name?"
The man blushed like she had just unexpectedly flirted with him. "Oh. Well, uh - " he rubbed the back of his neck shyly, "you should call her whatever you want."
"Forty-four years is a long time to have a name. She deserves to keep it," Liv insisted.
He straightened and pushed back his shoulders. "I used to call her Miz Dolly," he confessed. "After Missus Parton."
Olivia patted the dash. "She'll be in good hands," she told him. "Come on, Dolly." She pulled away from the curb and was on her way, giving the old man one last honk as she headed out of the neighborhood.
All that was on her mind then was open road and places far from Manhattan Winter. She couldn't have known, then, that in just three months Alex would be making another appearance in her life.
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You can read more about Law & Order: Conviction here if you are curious about how I worked canon into my timeline! - M
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allmights-right-boob · 4 years ago
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Not fic: Cursed Twilight addition
So I’m about to have my BNHA rights revoked but I just finished Midnight Sun (at the time when I started writing this) and started thinking about the characters and that Rosalie and Bakugo are weirdly similar so now here I am outlining a Twilight Au that no one asked for (except me but I’m garbage) that I will never write because I can’t focus long enough to write an actual story (fun fact this outline is taking months to complete). To be honest though this is more of a background on all the characters as opposed to an outline of the Twilight story (oops) which may or may not come later. Author’s notes are in parenthesis if you haven’t figured that out.
Basically I’m replacing Twilight characters with BNHA characters, not everyone will have the same back story, it’ll be blended(future me: um so that was a lie). Everyone’s quirks are still mostly the same but as their vampire gift with some variation to fit the word. It still takes place in the Pacific north-west because I’m not super sure if there’s a place as cloudy as there in Japan besides the mountains like Mt.Fuji (but that’s more misty I think) but there’s too many people around places like that I feel. But then again I’m not actually writing this whole fic so you’re welcome to imagine them still in Japan. If I did write this as a fic I would actually do proper research to decide where to put them but meh, this is a not-fic. As it is I’m calling the town it would take place in Forks/Crossroads cause that would be a cool alternative name. The backgrounds take place all over the word but I never actually say where. My bad.
Also if you do read this I love you very much and I am so sorry, this is ramble-y and has way too many run-on sentences and is written as if I were speaking to you as opposed to an actual written story. It’s also taken so long to complete things I wasn’t sure about in the beginning become solidified later but it’s also written out of order so probably reads really bad. Again my apologies.
So the characters are as follows:
The Olympic Coven/Cullens - The Might Coven/Aizawa-Yagis
Carlisle Cullen- Toshinori Yagi
So obviously I made Toshi Carlisle because suave blond everyone loves is both of their MO. Toshi is probably around 500 years old and like Carlisle was turned while hunting vampires. I still want him to have two forms but I’m not entirely sure how to do that within the confines of the Twilight universe. Maybe he was injured in a battle where he literally lost parts of himself and can’t fully heal so he’s become weak but still can’t die? He’s a doctor but might be semi-retired because of his injury, the cover story is an undisclosed chronic illness. He’s also a part time stay at home dad. He definitely used his vampirism to help and protect humans in the past.
Probably had a coven when he was younger with Nana and Torino but Nana was killed and Torino sent Toshi away for his own safety. He may or may not have started out as vegetarian, I can see Nana as veg or only eats bad people, Torino is an eats bad guys type but will eat anyone when pressed. Toshi either started out as a vegetarian before meeting Nana or if she found him immediately and took him in he would go animal based pretty quickly, She always respected his lifestyle. Grand Torino respects it to an extent but now that Toshi is hurt wants him to drink from humans because he thinks it’ll help Toshinori heal or at least be better for his body. He was in his 40s when turned.
Esme Cullen- Shouta Aizawa
It should surprise literally no one that I’m making this Erasermight because I am soft for my boys and anything is an excuse to ship them. Shouta is honestly the person who has taken the longest to work out along with Shinsou. Like so, so, long. These two are also related, they’re cousins or uncle/nephew or something. They’re also the most different from their counterparts, probably because it’s taken so long for me to work their stories out I’ve just completely changed them from original Twilight.
So the time period is really vague with him, it’s either the late 1800s or WWI. Hitoshi was an orphan around the age of 12 and Shouta his guardian is 30-31. Either way there was a war (and I looked at the wars in the second half of the 1800s, it’s just so many wars. What is wrong with this world?) and it could have easily been the civil war (and if so they were Unionist, obviously.) But wherever he and Hitoshi lived there was a war happening and he was probably not in the army at the time, just protecting his home and neighbors. At the same time Toshinori and Izuku were in the area trying to help civilians because wars suck and they’re basically un-killable so they can help and with the chaos of everything if someone started to suspect something of them they could fake their deaths and leave. And they probably did. But while traveling through they stop in a town/village and meet Shouta and Hitoshi.
Shouta is his gruff no nonsense self and Hitoshi is a little in awe of Yagi because this is still pre-injury so he’s this huge imposing man who’s gentle and knowledgeable about medicine. Eventually even Shouta comes around to liking Yagi, who has the nickname All Might because of his strength, even though he thinks his over the top enthusiasm in front of others is exhausting. In private Toshi ends up letting his guard and persona down with Aizawa because he realizes he doesn’t have to keep it up, he doesn’t need to make Aizawa like and trust him the way he does with the others, it’s just natural the way they click. Toshi probably fell in love first, vampires fall in love fast and long and all encompassing in a way that if they were human would be rather unhealthy (and probably is anyway because this is fiction but I don’t really care because this is fiction and I relate to unhealthy love way too much). Shouta was more reserved because he is a cautious man by nature and probably loves in a similar but more healthy way to vampires, long and devoted, but he must be careful to whom he gives his heart. I still don’t think he meant to fall for Toshinori, loving a man in the time that they lived was dangerous and inadvisable if one could avoid it. But Toshinori Yagi is the kind of man one cannot help but loving.
They didn’t tell each other how they felt though. A few months after Izuku and Toshinori’s arrival there was an attack on the town, Hitoshi they found safe but Toshinori caught wind of Shouta’s scent and followed, finding him mortally wounded. Desperate to keep him Toshi turned him and split off from Izuku and Hitoshi while Shouta adjusted to vampire life. They quickly became lovers, though Shouta had a brief stint as a human blood drinker as revenge for the destruction of his village. But it started to test their relationship and in the end Toshi and his own morals were more important to him than human blood. The four of them reunite a year later and they try to keep their relationship a secret but both of the boys figure it out pretty quickly. Izuku accepts it immediately because his dad is finally with someone and is happy while it takes Hitoshi a bit of time because period typical homophobia and it’s going to take a while for Yagi to earn his trust back after turning Aizawa in front of him.
Aizawa has an erasure power same as in canon. Since he doesn’t need to blink he’s a bit op but opponents who are faster than his eyes can track and multiple opponents are his weaknesses. He’s a history teacher at Forks/Crossroads high but purposefully does not have his own kids as students. He’s a mystery to most of his colleagues who probably haven’t even figured out he’s got five kids in the school.
Rosalie Hale- Katsuki Bakugo
Bakugo has a pretty similar start to Rosalie but because what happened to her is so awful and  I have problems doing that even to fictional characters that part is different. He’s still a rich kid from the early 20th century, probably turned in the 1920s, but he and his explosive temperament pissed off the wrong people who jumped him in an alley and beat him almost to death, like actually thought he was dead so they left him there (I know this isn’t that much better than what happened to Rose but man she had a horrific end to her human life). He was around 17-18 when he was turned.
While human he had met Dr. Yagi, who was probably treating one of his parents for a chronic ailment, along with his son Izuku and his ‘companion’ Aizawa and Aizawa’s ward Hitoshi. All of the others gave him the creeps but Izuku was a relatively normal boy, a bit younger than himself and accompanied his father when visiting the Bakugos. Their relationship is pretty much the same as canon where Izuku likes Bakugo a lot and Bakugo is nothing but awful to him. They end up with a sort of ‘I hate you but you’re my best friend’ relationship except neither actually hates the other. When Yagi finds Bakugo half dead in an alley he turns him because he was weirdly fond of the angry young man and more so because he thought that the relationship between the two boys was growing into something more, he and Izuku hadn’t talked about it, as he was waiting for his son to come to him, and he didn’t have time to ask. He realizes later that no, Katsuki and Izuku are not star crossed lovers like he and Shouta but he can’t say he regrets turning Bakugo other than Bakugo’s own hatred of being a vampire. He loves his angry son okay.
Bakugo had a life goal which was probably taking over the family business though based off canon that would be fashion and I can’t see him interested in that. Whatever it was he was pursuing it with the same single mindedness that he possesses for heroism and since he can no longer achieve his goals as a vampire he resents it along with the fact that the decision to become a vampire or die a human was taken away from him. He does have a good relationship with Toshinori and Shouta even though he still acts like a brat. His cover story is that he’s Toshinori’s cousin’s son and is an orphan who they took in. He kept his family’s name.
Like a number of vampires Bakugo has a talent or gift. His is his incredibly powerful and dangerous explosion ability. He can cause explosions from his palms. So far the League has not discovered him but everyone worries that one day they will and the Might Coven will be hunted and slaughtered for Bakugo’s power.
Emmett Cullen- Eijirou Kirishima
Sometime around the 1930s  Bakugo was hunting and found a bleeding almost dead Kirishima. It was either an animal attack like canon or an accident where he fell off a cliff (that feels like something he would do). I don’t think he decided to turn Kirishima, he just smelled blood and lost control. He’s still ashamed about how he reacted to this day as he’s typically better than that around humans. Luckily the others were hunting with him and were able to pull Bakugo off. He’s never held what Bakugo did against him and his enthusiasm and friendship actually endeared him to Katsuki despite his guilt. Eijirou was turned at 19 and has never had issues with being a vampire, it sucks that he had to leave his human family behind but he loves his vampire one just as much and he got the love of his life out of it. It took awhile but Katsuki and Eijirou eventually admit their feelings and they start dating. They’ve been married a few times now because Bakugo is extra and Eijirou loves confessing his love.
With Kirishima’s gift it doesn’t work the same as in cannon where you can tell it’s activated. In fact they still might not know Kiri has a gift or if they do it’s only a suspicion. He’s just harder than the other marble like vampires. Where the others have almost certainly had mild injuries (mostly from Bakugo’s explosions) like cracks that heal immediately, Eijirou has never been injured as a vampire. At all. He’s also immensely strong, because he was as a human, and that has been enhanced but he’s nowhere near as strong as Toshi was pre-injury. His cover story is he’s a foster kid they took in and he keeps the last name Kirishima.
Alice Cullen- Denki Kaminari
Like Alice Denki spent the end of his human life in an insane asylum (I refer to it as such because these were not hospitals and more like institutions of torture). I honestly can’t figure out if mental health care was so bad in the early/mid 20th century that a 15-16 year old boy with ADHD being sent to one is unrealistic or not. I’m pretty sure it was similar to Alice where he saw something he shouldn’t and was put in it to silence him.( I should probably figure out what that was sometime) Either way that’s where he ended up and of course he had to deal with electroshock ‘therapy’ which both severely messed with his memory and sorta brought out a natural resistance and even control over electricity, so he had to receive stronger and stronger sessions. This manifested in Denki’s electric power when he was turned into a vampire.
While hunting in the woods surrounding the institution, Hitoshi spotted Denki in the window and was instantly taken by the boy with eyes as golden as his inhuman family’s. He would make trips by the asylum just to get a glimpse and eventually took a night job there to meet him against his family’s advice. When they met Denki recognized him despite how careful, and honestly far away, Hitsohi had been and instead of being creeped out he was happy just to make a new friend. They would talk as long as they could and Hitoshi would bring Denki little bits of the outside world like flowers or decent snacks. And he would take care of Kaminari when his ‘therapies’ would leave him incapacitated and the nursing staff would neglect him.
Even after his family moved away to a location where the weather suited them better Hitoshi stayed working at the asylum not willing to leave Denki to his fate there (And to note this is around the time the others realized how serious Hitoshi’s feelings are and start planning how to help Kaminari or bring him into the family. Before this they were starting to suspect but kinda thought he was being weird about a guy he saw in a window. To be fair though he was being weird about a guy he saw in a window.) One night after an ice bath ‘treatment’ Denki developed a fever and over the course of a few days had full blown pneumonia. In his delirium he confessed his feelings to Shinsou who reciprocated and decided he would steal Denki away when he knew the trip back to his family wouldn’t kill the sick boy. Of course being a poorly run and over populated institution his condition was overlooked and ignored especially since a ‘specialist’ was coming to perform procedures on several patients, aka some guy with no degree was going to lobotomize as many people as he could fit into one day. Shinsou didn't find out until he came in that night and found out Kaminari was already in the procedure room. He flipped out and killed most of the staff there and took a severely injured Denki home to Toshinori in the hopes of saving him.
The change seemed to take longer than it had for the others but does end up working, though when he finally comes to Denki is much more quiet and subdued and remembers almost nothing about his past. All he knows is his name, Hitoshi’s name, and that he loves him. He also has weird headaches periodically for decades later and slowly becomes more like himself before the lobotomy. He never fully recovers his memories, a bit here and a piece there, all moments shared with Hitoshi. He decides he doesn’t need the rest, everything he needs is here and in his future with his family.
His cover story is typically as a foster kid so he keeps his last name Kaminari. Sometimes he decides to change things up and goes as a Yagi or even Bakugo’s brother when Katsuki is feeling generous.
Jasper Hale- Hitoshi Shinsou
Hitoshi’s early years were spent in his small town or village (I think the difference is size but I’m american and I don’t think we have villages no matter how small a place is so...) Everything was uneventful up until the war, I don’t know which war, civil war in US or WWI in Europe, but around the age of 12 his village was destroyed, his guardian was turned into a vampire and he had to go live with Izuku while Aizawa learned to manage his bloodlust. During that time he and Izuku grew really close and even now they have the most brotherly relationship out of all the siblings.
So after a year the four reunite with a vampire Shouta and an overly protective Izuku and a very weary Hitoshi. Everything goes on as it did for Toshinori and Izuku before they split but now with their two new additions. Yagi gives Hitoshi the best education he can without sending him to boarding school although they had discussed it. They were in a precarious position with a human boy knowing their vampire secret and they couldn’t run the risk of news getting back to the League, the governing body of vampires run by a mysterious head known only as All for One.
Years pass but unfortunately news of the Might Coven’s human pet gets back to the League and due to past history involving Nana and Toshi, AfO comes himself to deal with the situation and brings his two most powerful underlings, his adopted son and second in command Tomura Shigaraki and . A fight between Yagi and All for One happens and AfO rips out a piece of Toshi’s side and Toshi ends up crushing AfO’s head, killing him (maybe but probably not). Tomura, who had been fighting against Shouta and Toga who battled Izuku, realize they can’t win.
Now the vampire known as All Might is pretty popular amongst his kind but the Might Coven was at the time nowhere near strong enough or influential enough to fill the void that would be left by the dissolution of the League, which would happen if they killed all three of the vampires there. So they took a gamble and spared Shigaraki and Toga thinking their loyalty to AfO was limited, since most vampires don’t form bonds the way ‘vegetarians’ seem to, and that they would be happy with their promotion. They also agreed at Hitoshi’s insistence that he would be turned so they would no longer have a human knowing the secret about vampires. So Yagi turns Hitoshi and they let Toga and Shigaraki go and continue about their lives as much as they can with Toshinori’s injury.
Just like the rest of his family, Shinsou's quirk is the same as canon. If someone answers his question he can control their minds. It’s probably a little stronger than in canon too, at least against humans. Vampires have better resistance. His cover story is the most truthful, he’s Shouta’s orphan relative. He sometimes takes on Aizawa’s last name though in this school he decided to use his original.
Edward Cullen- Izuku Midoriya
The more I plot this out the more I’m taking Twilight, stripping it down to the bare outline, and making it into something totally different. Like the only similarities are Izuku and Shoto’s relationship follows Bella and Edwards, somewhat. Izuku is the tanned skinned, freckled, green eyed boy in a family of pale golden eyed outsiders. He seems completely human even to other vampires, til you get him in the sunlight where he literally shines.
I’m not sure when Izuku was born, maybe the 1700s, but he was still the first of the Might Coven besides Toshinori. Sometime after Nana’s death Toshi finds an ailing pregnant woman named Inko Midoriya who’s bizarre husband still hasn’t come home from his business trip to a foreign country. She’s convinced she is going to die before he returns and her pregnancy is so hard and so seemingly fast but her baby feels strong enough to survive so she begs Toshinori to please take care of her son till his father returns. Inko dies before she can give birth to her baby so Toshinori takes the baby out himself as a last ditch effort but there’s something not right, not with the baby or the amniotic sac that’s almost as hard as Toshinori himself. And when the sun shines through the window Toshinori’s arm glimmers and so does the new born baby. Dread at the thought that he’s holding an immortal child wells in him but he’s never heard of an immortal child being born and he’s especially never heard of a vampire with a heart beat. So against his better judgement he takes the child and runs, he can’t wait for Inko’s husband, and he can’t risk someone seeing the child and reporting back to the League. So he and Izuku, a name Inko had picked out before her death, stay on the run for years as the boy grew until he was at an appropriate age to be around at least vampire kind. Conveniently the half vampire boy doesn’t need blood to survive and seems to have very little if any bloodlust at all. Or so it seemed.
Now some differences I’m making will be Izuku’s aging. I know Rennesme ages fast and stops when she looks 21-25 but I’m thinking Izuku either ages very slowly or stopped when he looks closer to 15-18? Probably the first one. Also I think male half-vamps have red/gold eyes but Izuku has green because I said so.
His cover story is that he's Toshinori’s son from a previous relationship. They tried to call him a foster child in the past but they’re too close and Izuku uses Toshinori’s given name and dad interchangeably. He likes to use his mom’s last name as a way to honor her. Not every school but it is a pretty common thing for him to do and he’s using it in Forks/Crossroads this year. He doesn’t seem to have a gift but he’s a half vampire, his presence is a gift.
Humans
Bella Swan- Shoto Todoroki
Time for ‘technically main character number two but I preferred everyone else in Twilight over Edward and Bella so he and Izuku get put down lower on the list’. So Todoroki and Bella’s similarities are: new kid comes to live with other parent after the parent they lived with got married. I really don’t think there’s a lot else similar? But Bella doesn’t have that much back story to begin with.
So Shoto’s parents grew up in Forks/Crossroads but moved somewhere sunnier before he was born. He grew up in a city, maybe Phoenix (almost certainly Phoenix for the name alone). His parents had an unhappy marriage but I honestly don’t think it was full on abuse, I feel like Enji still neglected them but never physically or verbally hurt anyone. And since Shoto moves back in with Rei I don’t think she gave him his scar either, I think it was an accident where young Shoto pulled maybe a hot kettle onto himself? It probably was the catalyst for his parents divorce but ultimately that was happening either way. Both parents blamed the other for his accident but I think the courts realized it was just that, an accident, maybe some negligence (I don’t really know how custody courts work and what happens when a kid gets hurt and this isn’t a real fic so I’m not researching) but either way Enji gets Shoto (maybe all the kids but Rei gets visitation, comes down for the summer like Charlie? Kids go up there for vacation and holiday? Or split the kids 50/50? No idea this is still more backstory than Bella got) Enji is still a workaholic and Toya ends up running away/leaving probably shortly after the divorce anyway and Fuyumi and Natsuo eventually leave for college and are still closer to Rei even if they lived with their dad.
So when Enji gets remarried Shoto asks to move in with his mom since she’s all alone and Enji wouldn’t be and ‘wouldn’t it be nice to just be two newly weds with the house to themselves’. He makes a very convincing case and Enji is trying to let his youngest make his own choices so he agrees. Shoto moves north and it isn’t the worst, he likes both the heat and the cold unlike his parents, Rei hates the heat and Enji hates the cold. School is weird because people actually want to be his friend; there’s a group of stoic, pale, intimidating students he’s 90% sure are vampires; and there’s a  beautiful boy who hangs out with them who looks partially horrified and disgusted by him, or like he wants to eat him alive, literally.
Renee Dwyer- Enji Todoroki (Technically)
So I ended up making Enji considerably less awful.
After the divorce Enji figures out his sexuality and eventually starts dating a much younger model who goes by Hawks after he saves him from a burning building (Enji is a firefighter). Shoto offers to move in with Rei after Hawks and Enji get married, he has nothing against Hawks and they get along as well as can be expected but they are newly weds and Enji might be going into semi retirement to travel with Hawks for his career. And the thought of being around his dad so much, who can get a little overbearing when not working, is just not something Shoto wants to deal with. Though it is weird his dad is married to someone so much younger, Shoto knows several other people in his class in Phoenix whose dads did similar and they cheated on their wives and didn’t even have a sexuality crisis in their forties so he’s letting his dad slide on this. Shoto definitely has a better relationship with Enji in this than canon Shoto but they don’t have Enji’s shity eugenics baggage here either. Overall Enji in this is just a neglectful workaholic who’s learning to work on himself with the guidance of the love of his life and is letting Shoto make his own decisions like living with his mom and this is all growth.
Charlie Swan- Rei Todoroki (Technically)
So Rei after the divorce moves back home because she hates Phoenix and hot weather. Maybe she gets custody in the summer or has Fuyumi and Natsuo since Toya took off and they split the kids? (I still haven’t decided how the custody went with those two but they don’t live in Forks/Crossroads or Phoenix so it doesn’t matter.)
After returning home she either started working at or opened up a yarn shop, I see her enjoying needle craft and she’s definitely not a sheriff type. She’s just a quiet, keeps to herself woman with a few close friends; children mostly grown and just happy to spend more time with her youngest.
Phil Dwyer- Keigo Takami
He’s a model who gets saved by Enji when his apartment burns down. He offers to take Enji to dinner and keeps offering to reward him until at Moe’s insistence Enji agrees. They hit it off and the rest is history.
Things I would have said in the tags but there’s a limit so I put the actual important stuff there and ramblings here:
It took me three weeks to finish this (midnight sun) audiobook. I literally drive for a living and couldn’t finish it in less than the entirety of my library rental time. Jake Able deserves more money.
I have read twilight three times now and it never gets easier. Yes I do have terrible taste.
I hope someone reads this. It took like three months to finish this post. I still have so much in my head. I haven’t even started talking about the League. Please ask questions, I want to actually write this but my brain won’t let me write full fics so this is what we get.
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wrctings · 4 years ago
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Steve Rogers x Tony Stark | Back home
marvel’s avengers was a gift from the universe <3
fandom: Marvel's Avengers pairing: Steve Rogers x Tony Stark summary: Basically very domestic Kamala and Stevetony interactions (soulmates alert). word count: 2.5k 
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“Kamala?”
Steve Rogers's calm, compassionate tone swept through the room, filling it with a sense of grave comfort that the young woman felt immersed in right away, the Captain walking toward her with an open face. Anyone who had ever been close to Captain America must have noted the softness that seemed to underlay his tranquil composure and deep voice, an empathetic word or a reassuring nod always cloaked behind the hero's nonetheless solemn reputation. When knowing Steve, the contrast between the dutiful image that was usually given of him and the actual friendliness and even fun of his character was often a striking one, the world having ostensibly forgotten that the man was actually barely in his thirties, and used to be so well-acquainted with lively afternoons of fistfights and curse words flying off his lips that his best friend had more often than not had to drag him out of dusty alleyways, holding up a Steve with scraped knees and bruised cheekbones while the blond boy was still showering his stronger opponent in curses and promises of revenge.
But being aware of Steve's history, mustering enough self-control to keep herself composed turned out to be even harder for the young woman Steve had decided to pay a visit to. Kamala, be cool, the teenager quickly whispered to herself, taking an empowering breath in as the Captain came to a halt beside her. Captain America wanted to see her!
“Yes?” Kamala turned around, trying to discern her growing excitement by acting as friendlily yet coolly as she could, remembering all too well how overly joyous she must have appeared upon finding out that Steve had come back alive with Tony.
“It's a little late, I hope I'm not disturbing, I didn't get a chance to have a word with you, so I thought I would now,” the man explained cordially, not willing to impose upon the young heroine.
“Oh, I'm not busy,” Kamala reassured him instantly, shaking her head determinedly while she was in truth ablaze with bewilderment at the realisation that Steve wanted have a chat with her.
“I remember we met at the fanfiction contest. A lot has happened ever since, hasn't it...”
A cloud of sadness momentarily flew before the greyish blue of the Captain's eyes. What happened on A-day, what happened to Kamala — that was on him. But if he hadn’t made that decision, millions would’ve died as well. And that would’ve been on him, too.
After a fortunate reunion with Bruce, it was Natasha that he had run into on his way, and the look on the young woman’s face at the sight of him had been enough to make Steve realise just how exhausting, excruciating to a low the team had never hit before, those past years must have been. He regretted most of all that he had not been able to be there for them, as well as for rthe other people who counted on the Avengers, when they needed him. To him, it still seemed as though he had last seen his friends just hours ago, as though they had been all together just the day before, Iron Man triumphantly winding onto the stage of the fanfiction contest in a metallic flash of red and golden paint under festive beacons of gleaming light, roaring applause and sparkling colourful confetti, everyone able to take a mental glimpse at the proud curve of Tony’s lips under his helmet.
He still had to remind himself how much time had passed while he had been held captive by Monica, having himself remained plunged in an unconscious sleep for most of that period, but the feeling that he had been long gone had become all the more persistently clear when he, Thor and Tony landed in the Chimera, the disordered pieces of furniture left to dereliction that bestrewed the ship’s interior summarizing well-enough the state of discord that had accompanied AIM’s reign and the dismantlement of the Avengers. It seemed like the world had an ironic tendency to keep spinning round and round without Steve.
“Yes, it has...,” Kamala agreed quietly, her cheerfulness waning as she gave in to the memory she bore from that fateful afternoon.
“Bruce told me about everything you did,” the blond man however continued more hopefully, a hint of admiration and thankfulness chasing the sorrow away from his voice in such a way that Kamala wondered whether she had suddenly been rather plunged in an oneiric slumber, one of her heroes actually thanking her. “Thank you, it must have taken a lot of courage to do what you did. And I'm sorry, Kamala. I know part of what happened on A-day was my fault. I wish there was something I could've done to prevent... All that. What happened to you, and so many others.”
“No, Captain, you did what you had to do,” the young woman animatedly contradicted Steve, offering him an honest look. “These powers, we can make something really good out of them,” she asserted with heartfelt conviction, truly believing her words. “AIM says we're sick, they're making vilains out of us. But I know, in my heart, that this can be used for good. Without these powers, I never would've been able to join the resistance, to do what you guys do. You've always inspired me to be better,” Kamala confessed, looking down timidly as she realised that she had overstepped the boundaries she had meant not to cross in order to not assail Steve with her babbling. “And now I can be just like you.”
Then an empathetic hand set upon her shoulder. The young woman lifted her head back up, meeting Steve's gaze.
“You were better than us,” the man said kindly, his head bopping in a small nod. “You reunited us. Tony told me about your speech, after he and Bruce had a fight. You're a real hero, Kamala. You never gave up, you're so young and you went through so much, but you never gave up.”
“He's right, you know.”
Another voice unexpectedly rung out in the room, the well-known silhouette of its owner appearing in Kamala and Steve's field of vision a few seconds later. Tony joined them with casualness in his step, but his statement had been sincere.
“If it weren't for you, God knows what other fantasy changes my caravan would've undergone,” he remarked humorously, giving Kamala a flippant, knowing smile.
“Caravan?” Steve frowned slightly, not having a single clue about what Tony was referring to.
“Tony kind of lived in a caravan while you were gone, that's where Bruce and I found him,” the teenager told the Captain, recounting her surprise as they had indeed witnessed a bearded and unkempt Tony Stark emerging out of his metallic temporary house with tousled hair and a spare punch in the face for Bruce.
“You? In a caravan?” A playful smile of incredulity took a hold of Steve's face, making his eyes glimmer with a twinkle of gaiety.
“You wouldn't believe it,” Tony shot back, wryly grinning back at the man. “But thanks to Kamala, now I can spend my time home-decorating 'round here.”
“That explains so much...”
The Captain teased the brunet, smiling still, as the young woman observed the two of them in absolute disbelief. Seeing Tony and Steve taunt each other in such a way felt both incredibly sweet and funny — who knew to what extent went the complicity that the two men shared went?
“Don't worry, I rolled up my sleeves and changed up your room myself,” Tony bounced off Steve's witty joke, but this time the other man's facial features twitched into a more distressed expression, the joyous lines of his face falling back into place.
“Wait, did you actually... ?”
“What?” Surprised by Steve's sudden change of tone, Tony was quick to assuage his friend's concerns. “No, of course not. I... No. It was left untouched,” Iron Man promised, the memory of Steve's death suddenly tugging at his heartstrings in a pang of wrenching recollection; he had known that Steve wasn't coming back, but he couldn't have brought himself to displace anything that had been been imprinted with Steve's touch, Steve's soul.
“Okay,” the Captain's face softened, a sigh of relief falling off his chest. “Good to know.”
“Well, it's getting late, I'm gonna go to sleep now,” Tony then announced, scratching the back of his head in a lazy motion. “You know where to find me if you need me, but please address Jarvis instead unless it's a life-or-death thing. Especially death.”
The brunet spun on his heels, taking one last glance at Steve and Kamala, and headed for his room as breezily as he had come in, leaving the Captain and the teenager together again.
“It's good to be back indeed...”, Steve smiled, shaking his head, but his heart was pulsing with a warm, tingly feeling. “Well, I better get going as well. I'm glad I could finally talk to you, Kamala.”
“Me too, thank you, Steve,” the young woman didn't shy away from calling him by his name this time, Steve's friendliness inviting for congenial conversation. “It's good to have you back.”
“It's good to be home again,” the man nodded, a tide of peacefulness washing over his face. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
Kamala waved Steve goodbye, starting to process what had just happened as the Captain's footsteps echoed while he was walking back into the Chimera’s compartiments. Steve had not only shown the upmost kindness toward her, but he had also given the young woman even more confidence in her own abilities, both as an inhuman and a young superhero still trying to find the right path to follow. She had done everything she could, and something good had come out of it. And with teammates like the Avengers by her side, Kamala didn't doubt that good was what would always triumph in the end, no matter how many years it took and how many times they would have to struggle. That's what they always did — their best. And it never went to waste.
Meanwhile, Steve Rogers had set on a course of action slightly different than anyone else might have expected. Instead of taking a turn into a corridor that lead to his room, which he hadn't had the occasion to visit yet in spite of his coming back a while ago — catching up with the current situation had seemed far more of a pressing matter, especially since he had already gotten something resembling a five-year break —, the man instead followed the path that lead to another room, one that he knew almost as well as his own.
Shifting from one foot to the other with a certain shyness that he couldn't subdue, Steve brought his fist up to the door, pausing an instant before he ventured to make his knuckles connect with the cold steel door, the couple of knocks reverberating through the empty hallway and imbuing the inside of the room with a muffled echo. A few seconds later, the entrance unlocked, revealing Tony on the threshold.
“Well, look who it is,” he scoffed gently, stepping aside to let the other man come in. “I did say to only disturb me for a life-or-death matter...”
“Well, it's a life matter,” Steve smiled furtively, taking a look around — how he had missed being here. Home. “But if you really want to be left alone, I can just...”
“Oh, shut up, will you,” Tony rolled his eyes, coming closer to Steve, and carefully, almost as if he was still afraid to fully yield to the desperate yearning that he had been harbouring for the past years, lest Steve suddenly vanished into thin air once again, enfolded the man in an embrace from behind. “There, don't you dare go,” he murmured menacingly, eyebrows furrowing as he held the Captain.
“I'm not going anywhere,” Steve whispered back, eyelids fluttering shut as he was imbued with Tony's touch.
They remained like this for a quiet while before Steve took the initiative of turning around, mouth slightly parted as he brought it closer to Tony's, brushing his lips with his own, their light breaths mingling in shared intimacy, before the Captain brought the honeyed torture of suspension to an end by pushing his jaw forward and firmly pressing his lips against Tony's, kissing him with an intensity that he let suffuse his entire being.
When they pulled away at last, the deep brown of Tony's iris shone with particular softness as the two of them took a seat upon the man's bed.
“God, I thought I had lost you. I was such a wreck...,” he chuckled sadly, but his face lighted up as soon as his eyes locked in Steve's again. “But now you're back. Don't you ever pull something like this on us, alright, Rogers? This better be the last time we're rescuing your ass from a spaceship.”
“I promise,” Steve pressed kiss onto Tony's temple. “I'm sorry.”
“No, don't be. I'm sorry we didn't find you sooner.”
“But you found me in the end, that's all that matters,” the Captain assured the other man, grazing his arm with his. “If it weren't for you, my blood would still be supplying Tarleton, and maybe I would've woken up another 70 years later. But I'd rather wake up by your side tomorrow morning,” he added allusively.
“I've almost forgotten how corny you were...,” Tony laughed lovingly. “Alright, get in there.”
Uncovering his bedsheets, Tony swung his feet upon the bed — much bigger than the one installed in Steve's room — and rolled toward the farther edge of it, giving Steve space to lay down beside him.
“This is much better than cryo...,” the Captain sighed contentedly, sinking in the mellowness of Tony's cosy bed and the presence of the man he loved by his side.
“Oh yeah?” The brunet snuggled up to him, retaking his position in the midst of Steve's arms, which enveloped him with their safe clasp.
“Yeah”, Steve exhaled into Tony's hair, feeling the familiar hard surface of the man's arc reactor press against his t-shirt, right against Steve's own heart.
It was as if, all along, a golden thread had tied them together, making it impossible for fate to snip through the unbreakable link that bound their cores to one another; as if their souls had been forged in the same breath, though Tony's had had to wait much longer before seeing the light of day alongside its lover, who had known the world way before Tony was born. And yet, in spite of the walls time had erected, in spite of the frontiers that space had tried to dig between them, there they were — together again. As if their very existences grew together, entwined until, in death, they would find the seal of their forever reunion.
But until then, they would always look after one another, no matter how many attempts would be made at trying to fork their lives, no matter how many times they would have to fight destiny itself for their scrap of shared happiness. After everything, it would be the two of them, until the end of the world.
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daydreamsofh · 5 years ago
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Dreaming of You
A/N: Hi, hello friends!! Here is Dreaming of You, this is a slight continuation/part two to my piece from the Pick Your Poison Fic challenge last month! You don’t have to have read Dreamy to understand what’s going on in this piece, but if you wanna, you are more than welcome to do so, here. :)  I hope you enjoy the continued yearning and please feel free to let me know what you think! xx 
Also a special thanks to my girl @harryinsweatersandbandanas for listening to me ramble about this for weeks now, love you <3 
**
The past month of your life has felt like nothing short of a dream. A dream filled with you confessing your undying love to your best friend, and him very, very surprisingly declaring it back to you. You literally could not make it up if you tried. 
The two of you had only spent a small amount of time together since your life altering, relationship altering monologue. Now it really was like an episode of Grey’s Anatomy. What the hell was going to happen next?! 
Harry had spent the night at your place that night, the two of you spending the entire afternoon into the evening reading through his letters to you and giggling and sharing kisses and making him explain each and every letter and what he was feeling when he wrote it. You traced his handwriting on each letter, smiling like a mad woman when you realized he had already told you he loved you over and over again, in different cities and countries all over the world. How many times had you both said I Love You at the same time, out loud, but not to each other? Wrapped up and tucked against his side, Harry pressed kisses into your hair and softly looked down at you, smiring and chest puffing over the fact that your cheeks had been burning red since he first slid the pile of notes across the island to you. 
Nothing had happened that night further than gentle kisses and cuddling. Mainly because you were still in utter disbelief that he felt the same way, and that he was here curled up in your living room giving you kiss after kiss and also because you weren’t completely convinced he was real and holding you. What kind of over the top, non stop yearning daydream was this?  
It was kind of unbelievable the way things had turned out. Okay not kind of, more like incredibly unbelievable that things had turned out so, so beautifully. You woke up asleep on Harry’s chest on your couch the next morning and you had to quietly slip from on top of him because you were afraid you were going to start crying from the vision of this man in front of you. Happy tears this time though. 
But that’s all that had really happened, that one night together and he was off the next morning to finalize tour details. He had left you with a stream of kisses on your doorstep, and a promise to see you soon. 
The one thing you didn’t account for when you delivered your inner monologue to Harry was the timing of it all. Shortly after the listening party and the week you spent hiding from him, he was supposed to start a brand new tour. But that dream was cut short and he was forced to reschedule the european leg, and self isolation had officially started. You knew Harry was upset and disappointed that things had to be rescheduled. He knew there was nothing he could do, it was out of his hands, but that didn’t stop him from feeling badly. After he told you about the tour being rescheduled, you were right there with him, well not literally right there with him but he had called you the moment they had made the decision.  
It was easy to tell how disappointed he was by the tone of his voice, and it made your heart ache hearing him beat himself up about it. His usual honeyed slowed rasp was even more drowned out and you had only managed to get a small snicker out of him by the end of the phone call. You told him that you loved him,  and that you were proud of him for always seeing the bigger picture, no matter how hard it was sometimes. 
**
You were granted access to work from home, so you knew where you would be, but you had no idea where Harry would be for the length of this self isolation period the entire world seemed to be in. You almost didn’t want to ask because you didn't want to seem like you were the overly attached new girlfriend that wanted to spend every possible second with him. Sure you both said I love you but you still were trying to play it sort of cool, as much as you could. Have you seen him? Playing it cool was next to impossible. 
But one night, about three days into quarantining by yourself there was a knock at your door. 
You opened the door to your apartment to find a curly headed (and you hated yourself for how mushy this man makes you AND how mushy it sounds) angel face of a man staring back at you. 
You squealed, actually squealed when his eyes met yours and he never got tired of seeing how excited you got from seeing him. He positively scrambled to hug you as soon as you swung the door open and you laughed and steadied the two of you by putting your hands on his shoulders as the two of you stood in your doorway and softly hummed as you swayed together. 
Once he finally let go so you could breathe he asked you, “Hi angel, are you busy?” He raised an eyebrow at you and laughed once you rolled your eyes. 
“You are not a funny man you wanker.” You giggled, very loudly and your cheeks started to blush when you saw his eyes crinkle at your quip and you mumbled a very shy, “I missed you” into his neck. 
He grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together before bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss. “I missed you too, love. M’sorry I haven’t been around lately or called. Head’s been in a bit of a mess after postponing everythin’. M’sorry. You deserve better than tha’ from me.” 
His eyes were so soft and he looked like a little boy peering down at you and you could tell he genuinely felt bad for not being around, even though you didn’t expect him to be after the past few weeks he had. You knew he would come back to you when he was ready, he always did. 
“I know. It’s okay, H. It’s a lot to digest. I’m sorry.” You smiled softly reached out to touch his cheek and his eyes shut at the reassuring contact. He melted into your touch and your fingers started to twitch against his cheek. How was it that even though you told him you loved him and he repeated the words back to you, that you were still this nervous? Butterflies were fluttering around in your stomach and the longer you looked at him the giddier you got. You couldn’t believe that you were the one that got to reach out and touch his face and feel his lips against your own, it was all still so surreal. And special. And the thought of all of the new possibilities that were floating around in the air between the two of you was enough to make you feel like you were walking on air. What is it about the beginnings of a new relationship or even a new friendship that fill you with so much joy you literally have no choice but to laugh so some of the joy could be released into the air for you to feel? Whatever it was, you knew that you and Harry had an untapped amount of it left to discover. God you loved him.
 After a minute of you daydreaming about the new possibilities of your relationship, Harry said your name to get your attention.
 “Alrigh’ there?” He laughed at you and chucked under your chin with his thumb. “Let me have a kiss, angel, been waitin’ long enough.”
 You squealed then too and puckered your lips and kissed him pertly one, two, three, four times. He was positively beaming at you when you broke apart and you asked him, “Better now?” He hummed and your heart dropped into your stomach (in a good way) and your throat became thick when he said “Never gonna get tired of getting to do tha’.”
 Harry cleared his throat and said “I wanted to see you obviously but I also had a proposition f’you.” He raised an eyebrow at you and your stomach swirled at the possibilities of said proposition.
 “Go on,” You raised your brow back at him and goaded him into continuing.
 “Well, yeh working from home for the foreseeable future, right?” Your eyes went wide and you slowly nodded your head yes. “Well… y’know that the tour got postponed and that i’m staying home for a while, and I was wonderin’ if you would like to come quarantine at my house w’me?” 
Your mouth fell open and before you could say anything Harry started again. 
“Know it's not supposed to be a romantic thing or summat and that the situation is serious but-” He was starting to ramble nervously and you saw the skin of his neck turn pink. “I thought you might like someone to keep yeh company, and I just really wanna spend some time w’you. Haven't gotten to properly have a date or even hold yeh since our big love fest.” 
“Our love fest?” You sputtered out a laugh and he started snickering. 
“Y’know what I mean. Maybe we can have a real love fest later.” He smirked at you and you felt your knees buckle. 
Breath positively knocked out of your lungs, you managed to squeak out, “No I suppose we haven’t gotten to do that yet. Good things come to those who wait, H.” 
That had his nostrils flaring and he suddenly had a tickle in his throat. When he didn’t speak you took the opportunity to ask him,  “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose or step on your toes. Plus who knows how long we could be in self isolation, and I don’t want you to hate me by the end of it.”
 You laughed and you knew you were mostly joking, but there was also this fear that you had that if the two of you really spent some time together, he would somehow change his mind. That if he really saw you, day in and day out he would see something he didn't like. Unlikely though considering he had practically written you an entire book of love letters. Those insecurities that  you had always had were still there at the surface, always afraid that something would happen and Harry would slip through your fingers like water. You almost had him so many times over the years and even though it seemed like you were both in this together now you still hadn’t had that conversation yet. Sure you were in love but what does that really mean? 
There were so many things you and Harry had left to talk about and you had so many things to discover with one another. But the more you thought about it this might be THE perfect time to get to know each other on this new level. Day in and day out together to learn what it’s truly like to be loved by him. And plus all of the fun and exciting and sexy steps that the two of you had to take together. Andhaving Harry all to yourself for the foreseeable future was enough to make you scream with excitement.
 As you stood there mulling all of this over in your head Harry stood there patiently waiting for your response. He knew you well enough to know that you were running a possible million scenarios through your mind. He reached for your hand to lace your fingers together.
 “Love, please don’t say things like that. Y’know there is nothing you could ever do to make me not want to spend time with you, do you remember me saying I was in love with you? The handful of love letters that have your name all over them? Been watchin’ too much TV and forgot?” 
Your cheeks warmed and you were suddenly fidgeting again, everytime you were reminded that he loved you too it knocked the wind out of you. “C’mon love. Come stay with me. I don’t wanna go home w’out you. Come stay with me.” 
You stood there melting under his stare and when you looked up at him from your fixture on your wood floor you smiled and bit your lip before nodding. Like hell if you’d leave now,  you had waited long enough.
 “Okay, okay. If I must keep you company in that ridiculously massive house of yours. I’d love to H.” You giggled to hide your squeal over the fact that you would be alone, ALONE with him for the next few weeks. 
Suddenly Harry was in your apartment and picking you up and spinning you around. “Y’will? You’ll really come home w’me?” His lips were trembling and his smile took over his entire face as he held you tightly against him. Looking him up and down and smiling you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt and brought your eyes back to his, “Yes, yes i'll come home with you, H. It’ll be nice to have you to myself for a while.” 
You were cut off from him lunging forward and kissing you so hard it hurt just a little bit and you melted into it. In just a matter of seconds he had you so pliant, puddy in his hands. As if you'd ever say no to spending the next few weeks wrapped up in him. Literally and figuratively. If the next few weeks consisted of kisses like this and his hands on you at all times, you were more than game for it.
 “Y’have no idea how nice it’ll be, love” 
That sentiment, actually more like a promise he was set to deliver on made your stomach drop in the most delicious way.
 Breaking apart from his lips finally you were out of breath, and shakingly told him “Come in and wait for me so I can get my stuff.” Another kiss, “I won’t be long.”
 Leaving Harry sitting in your living room waiting for you to get your stuff together, you texted Sam to let him know where you were going to be for the next few weeks. Sam was one of the first people you called after your and Harry’s “love fest”, and he was so excited he had to come over and scream about it with you in person. He had been texting you everyday waiting to see if anything else had happened yet. You knew telling him you were going to stay with Harry would make him almost excited as it made you. Pulling out your phone you typed out:
 “Gonna be staying at Harry’s the next few weeks. Tour was postponed as you know and I’m so excited to spend time with him. Just wanted to let you know. xx” 
Your phone dinged almost immediately with a response, you knew Sam was as bored as you were, on his phone even more than normal.  
Sam: “OOOOOOH SHIT!!!!!!! That’s incredible babe! Hope you’re packing some lingerie because things are definitely going to happen, babe!” 
 Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit shit!! The possibility of sex hadn’t even crossed your mind, well, today it hadn’t crossed your mind. Obviously sex with Harry has crossed your mind over the years of your friendship. Have you seen him? No, seriously, have you seen him?! It’s infuriating that he looks like that. And it’s not like you didn’t know he was well endowed, years of friendship and accidentally and sometimes not accidentally (on harry’s part) you had seen him naked and willed your eyes away to not look at it, even though it was next to impossible. The thought of having the real thing and so so so much more was exhilarating, terrifying, and made your stomach clench and your cheeks heat up. As exciting as the opportunity of being with Harry in that way was, it made your insecurities spill out all over again. How many women had he been with? You don’t mean it like it sounds, you know he has had very serious relationships with people and that he was no stranger to intimacy, but still. How would you measure up to the women he had been with? Why did Sam have to say that? You knew he meant well but you were also incredibly nervous all of the sudden. Harry had been your best friend that you were in love with for years now, and the two of you had told the other you were in love with each other, this was still all new territory. Territory you had dreamt of for years of getting into with him. This was a big deal. 
Trying to push Sam’s text out of your mind, you focused on what exactly to bring to Harry’s house. Lounge clothes a plenty, some stray pajama shorts, (knowing you would more than likely sleep in one of his shirts every night) plenty of cute (and sexy) underwear just in case Sam was right. You even packed a few fancier outfit options, just in case you and Harry decided to have an impromptu date night at home. Toiletries packed, laptop and your necessary chargers gathered together, you stopped what you were doing to look at yourself in the mirror. You have been waiting for this moment for a long time. He was your dream, in more ways than one, and he was here. He was here with you physically, emotionally, and the weight of that kind of hit you in a way that made you tear up. Quickly shaking those tears off you laughed and ran your fingers through your hair. 
At the same time you were zipping up your bags, you heard Harry’s footsteps carrying himself into your bedroom. He snaked his warm, strong arms around your waist and nuzzled his face into your neck. 
“Almost done?” He started to pepper kisses down your neck and you felt like you were lightheaded all of the sudden.
Turning around in his arms you rested your forehead against his. 
“Yeah, I’m done. Let’s go home, H.” 
You didn’t miss the way his ears perked up and the smile that overtook his face once you called his house home.
 “K, darlin. Let me get your bags for yeh,” He kissed your forehead and lingered for a moment before he grabbed your bags and headed back in the main part of your apartment.
 Making sure everything was locked and out away the two of you made the way out of your place. Harry reached for your hand and led you to his car, helping you in first and putting your bags in the trunk. You watched him from the rear view mirror and noticed him smiling from ear to ear and shaking his head. You started beaming before he got into the car and once he shut his door he slid in his seat and looked at you like you hung the moon. He let out a dreamy sigh before reaching over and chucking his fingers under your chin to bring you into the sweetest kiss. His lips softly sucked your bottom lip before slanted his mouth over yours again. You were in the car for only a few minutes and you again, you were already so pliant and cushiony for him. He hummed into it and you did the same, like a couple of lovesick teenagers alone for the first time. 
His fingers traced over your cheek and he beamed at you through swollen lips. Your gaze flittered all over his face and you bit your lip before giggling softly at him. 
Harry looked like he was making no move to actually start the car and leave. He just sat there gazing at you with his dimple denting his cheek. When he just kept staring at you dreamily you laughed and kept one hand cradling his face and the other resting on his thigh.
 “C’mon H let’s go, can’t hold me or take off my pants if we sit here all night,”
 His gaze zeroed in on you and when you laughed to break the tension Harry cleared his throat and dropped his gaze to your mouth. You ran your hand through his curls and he leaned into your touch and his eyes almost shut. You leaned in and kissed him again, pulling his bottom lip back with you. He leaned forward when you finally pulled back and you were grinning nervously at him. 
Laughing you repeated to him, “C’mon Harry let’s go, take me home.” 
Harry groaned when he backed up out of your space, already craving your warm, flowery and comforting scent to invade his senses again. You were so soft and pliant in front of him already, looking at him so doe eyed and innocent, he couldn't wait to get you home alone, just the two of you, with the door dead bolted.
 “Okay okay m’going, let’s go home love,” He looked over and smiled at you, and finally started the car and put it in drive.
 **
Harry kept his eyes on you the whole drive to his house, it wasn’t very far from your apartment but also far away enough to make you feel like you were secluded from the rest of the world. He held your hand the whole way home, tightly grasped within his and he peppered kisses into your skin repeatedly. You admired the way his jaw moved as he drove, the way his curls framed his face so perfectly. You ran your free hand through his hair and he groaned once you started scratching his scalp. You softly talked to each other the whole way to his house, and as you pulled into his driveway you suddenly got so nervous. The two of you being at his house together, alone was nothing new, but the two of you being together at his house alone after you had decided to become a couple, was brand freaking new, and the nerves of that hit you as soon as you pulled into the drive. 
As soon as he put the car in park, he ran over to your side to open the door for you, something he did while the two of you were just friends. He very theatrically opened your door and reached for your hand to practically pull you out of the car. Once the two of you were inside the house and he unloaded all of your bags he reached for your waist to pull you into him. 
You laughed and fell into his frame and his hands cradled your face, and he smiled before slanting his lips over yours. Some of your nervous energy melted away, and when you sighed into it he took the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips and into your mouth. This kiss wasn’t as sweet and innocent like all the other ones you two have shared, this kiss had a purpose. He wanted to kiss, and to be kissed back. He slowly backed you into his kitchen from the doorway until you were resting against the bar of his breakfast nook. His hands shifted from your face and slid down your back and once you felt them near your butt you squealed and broke the kiss. 
Harry’s eyes flew open and you started laughing, uncontrollably so and you buried your face in his chest. When you groaned he laughed and started carding his hand through your hair, rubbing small circles over the expanse of your back. 
“Erm, something wrong, love?” He snickered through his confusion and kissed your forehead in hopes to coax you off of his chest and look him in the eyes. 
You lifted your face from his chest and your face was red hot, cheeks burning and you finally willed yourself to stop giggling. “No-no no nothing’s wrong it’s just,” you looked up at him softly panting, his swollen lips red and bitten from your own doing. His eyes softened when you stuttered and you groaned again. “It’s just um, you just, you, uh-” you groaned again and buried your face back into his shoulder. When he looked at you again, his gaze was even more confused than before. He nudged his forehead against yours and goaded you into telling him what was wrong. 
“You just, it’s just you just you just touched my ass,” you covered your face with your hands and started giggling nervously again. Harry let out a small laugh and you could only imagine the confused smirk he was wearing. 
 This was Harry, your best friend turned rockstar crush that you pined over for years, finally turned boyfriend. This was all brand new, undiscovered territory. You were flustered and overwhelmed to say the least. You wanted everything with Harry, obviously but this was your best friend feeling you up, the man you have fantasized about and pined over for literal years had his hands on you, that fact just seemed so unbelievable it literally had you in disbelief. Hence the freaking out and nervous uncontrollable laughter. You suddenly felt like you had never been in front of a member of the opposite sex before and the thought of having THIS man’s hands on your hips? You were surprised you weren’t passed out on the floor beneath him. Any sort of physical touch from Harry when the two of you were friends had you about to fall over, and the fact that you could now touch him and hold him and kiss his glorious skin had you shuddering in disbelief.  You were incredibly embarrassed by your outburst, hiding your face in his chest and panting.
“Is tha’ not okay?” His eyes flitted around your face, afraid he had gone too far already. 
You heard him scoff and you were terrified he had gotten the wrong impression entirely. You lifted your head from it’s resting place on his chest and kissed up his neck to his cheek and blurted, “No no no it’s not funny H I swear it’s just-” he raised his brows at you in question. “It’s not funny, it's just this is all new, brand new actually and it’s just- I just, it’s new, that’s all.” You smiled at him with your bottom lip in between your teeth after you were done rambling. Understanding lit in his eyes, and he laughed with you this time. 
He pecked your lips again and ran his hands over your hips and up your back, and he leaned his forehead against yours. You lifted your gaze to meet his and you let your head fall back against your neck, and he groaned at the sight of your hair elongating your neck. 
When he finally spoke his voice was raspy and he softly murmured to you, “S’pose it is all new, huh? Guess we should talk about some things first, if tha’s what you want.” 
You bit your lip again and with wide eyes you slowly nodded yes and slid your arms around his shoulders, carding your fingers through his hair, softly scratching his scalp. He was melting under your touch and his eyes fluttered shut before he groaned again. When you softly giggled he opened his eyes and whined. “Christ, gotta stop looking at me like tha,’” you giggled again and scratched his lower back. He buried his face into your neck and growled playfully into your skin. 
“C’mon love,  s’go get your stuff squared away an’ then we can have a talk,”  
**
Your stuff was squared away and you were giddy at the thought of your clothes mixed in with his in his chest of drawers and your toothbrush next to his. You normally stayed in his guest room when you were just friends, and most of the time Harry ended up in bed cuddled beside you when you woke up in the morning. The thought of getting to sleep in his bed, with him, under the same roof made your chest ache and butterflies swarm in your stomach. You knew he would tease you if he heard you say it but you had always loved his bedroom. It was calm and serene, muted in color but not dark, old vintage posters on one of the walls and dark curtains covering the windows that led out to his balcony. You hated how teary eyed you were when you put the last of your stuff away, and Harry pretended not to notice, instead he was just waiting for you in the doorway, silenting watching. When you turned around to face him he reached his hand out for you, smirking at you. You took his hand and rolled your eyes and let him pull you into him. 
“Shut up,” you scoffed as you tried to walk past him before he grabbed you. 
“M’not sayin’ anything love,” 
“Yeah, yeah whatever,” 
He snickered into your neck and you didn’t need to see his face to know his dimples were popping. His arms tightened around you and you sighed at how easy it was to fall into him. 
“Wanker.” 
**
You followed behind him walking downstairs back into the living room, and he waited for you at the bottom of the stairs. 
“Go have a seat love, I’ll put the kettle on an’ be there in a second,” He sent you a shy smile and his eyes were doing the sparkly eye thing that they so often do when he looks at you. You nodded your head and watched him disappear into the kitchen. 
You plopped down onto the l-shaped couch in the living room, curling up on one side of it and plopping a pillow onto your lap. Sitting there in the same living room that had previously been the sight of your massive meltdown only a few weeks prior, you couldn't help but remember how heartbroken and alone you felt on that night. How badly you wanted Harry, how angry and pissed off you were at him, but mainly how much all that you wanted was to be with him. Now only a few weeks later, the two of you were a unit, an item, in love. Again, what kind of yearning covered day dream was this? You looked down at the couch you were perched on, running your fingertips over the fabric you giggled at the memory of you weeping like a mad woman and causing a scene. The things you have to do to get his attention, right?! Kidding, but seriously. 
You turned your head towards the kitchen to get a glimpse of him, that curly headed, lanky legged, dreamboat of a man making you tea, you couldn’t help but tear up a little bit. How long had you waited for this? How long had you dreamed of having moments like this with him? How long had you waited to share a bed with him, to see your clothes hung up in his closet, to see your toothbrush next to his, to be able to feel his fingertips against your own, his lips against yours? You wanted to take in every moment, every minute detail of being here with him. You wanted to save every memory and so you could replay them over and over again when he was gone and away from you when he was on the road again. He makes people feel everything so deeply, and you were not immune to that. In fact you were the least immune person to that. 
After what felt like an eternity of tea making Harry pottered his way into the den, your favorite mug of his that was designated for your use when you were at his house in one hand, and a mug with a gold H in his other hand. “Alrighty then angel, here we are,” He was beaming at you as he sat the mugs down on the coffee table. You shifted your pose and nervously smiled up at him. Suddenly there were no words left in your brain. Damn him and the sparkly eye thing. 
He plopped down on the couch on the opposite side of you, and patted the spot next to him. 
“C’mere love, want you closer if we’re gonna talk,” 
When you scooted closer to him he patted his lap. “Mm gonna need you a bit closer love,” He winked at you and you giggled softly before crawling on his lap. Now eye level with him you put your arm around his shoulders and ran your hand through his hair. Your gaze flitted around his face before you looked in his eyes and smiled, beamed at him. 
“Hi mister,” you nervously giggled and you felt your stomach start to do backflips again. 
He laughed softly, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and he sighed when your eyes fluttered at the small gesture. 
“Hi sweets,” He ran his fingers over your back before he rested his hands on your hips. 
When you didn’t say anything in response he laughed again and you sighed, tears welling up in your eyes and you leaned forward to kiss him. His lips were soft but firm against yours, and you loved that every kiss of his had a purpose. This was the slow, sipping one, meant to calm you down and lull you back to him. You were entranced by his lips and the two of you looked like a couple of teenagers necking on the couch of their empty parents house. You had to physically break the kiss by gripping his shoulders and pulling away. The both of you were panting and his lips were red and swollen from your biting and nibbling and he looked so besotted with you. He let out a whine and tried to catch your lips back and you laughed trying to get your breathing back to normal. 
“We’re supposed to be talking but this face of yours is so distracting,” you whined and let your head fall onto his shoulder. 
“Tha’ the only thing that’s distractin’ love?” you could hear the smirk in his voice and when you lifted your head off his shoulder his lips met your neck and he peppered kisses up your neck, his slight stubble pulling and tugging against your sensitive skin as he made his way up. 
“H, we need to- we need to oh,” your voice was caught in a throat and you let out the softest breathy moan and he pulled you closer in response. HIs arms squeezed around you even tighter and your hands fisted in the neck of his jumper and his lips found yours again. 
This kiss, oh this kiss was brand new. It was hard and unrelenting and then it slowed and the two of you moved poetically against each other. The two of you had always been in sync, able to anticipate the other’s move before they even make it, and now there was no difference. The two of couldn't possibly be closer and when you pulled back and brought his bottom lip with you he let out a growl that had your stomach flipping. When his hands gripped your hips tighter to bring you back to him you giggled and kissed the corner of his mouth and across his jaw. 
“Love if we’re gonna talk yeh gotta quit doing tha’,” he groaned again and you couldn't help but feel an enormous sense of pride knowing that you were the one who made him feel so good he was practically growling at you. 
You bit your lip and smiled at him, but when he was staring back at you, soft eyes blinking at you and that same reassuring smile he seemingly always had when he was looking at you, your smile dropped and you were suddenly so nervous all over again. You wanted to talk and get some things out in the open before you went too far too fast, this wasn’t just some guy, this was Harry. Your favorite person in the whole world, your quite literal dream man and even though you knew that you know him, like you really know him but at the same time he was Harry freaking Styles and he looks like that and you could feel him getting rock hard beneath you and you were suddenly terrified that this would happen and it would all be over. Again, not likely, (hello stack of love letters the size of your head) but the fear was still there, staring you back in the face. You were all in your head and getting teary eyed AGAIN and when your breath hitched Harry’s eyes softened again and he shifted underneath you. When your eyes were even more glossed over and tears were threatening to spill out of the corners of your eyes he felt you start to shake and pulled you closer. 
“Oh love, you’re alrigh’ it’s okay, tell me what’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” he rubbed his hands up and down your arms and you lifted your head from your hands to look at him through bleary eyes. “Look at me please, love let me see those eyes o’ yours,” 
When you finally wiped your eyes and took a deep breath you sighed and simply stated, “I’m scared,” 
“Of wha’? Of me?” 
“No- no not of you H, but a little I guess of just everything,” he was still holding you, his hands still rubbing soothing circles over your arms. 
He fought for you to keep his gaze on him and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Love, we don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t want to, m’mot gonna force yeh, yeh know that.” 
“I know that, I do H but this is just- it’s a big deal. You and me, here together. I love you and it just has felt like I’ve been dreaming the past few weeks. I can’t believe that you’re here and you’re in front of me and I get to hold you and kiss you and I finally have you, and I just want to know that you’re here with me, that you’re in this for real. I’m afraid that this is all going to disappear in the morning. I want you, more than words can say, and I can’t be without you now, now that I know what it’s like to have you.” You had managed to even your breathing out and your voice had actually gotten stronger the longer you talked. You were pretty good at delivering these inner monologues by now, you thought. Harry just sat there, once again, annoyingly unreadable and calm, just like he was that night in your kitchen just a few weeks ago. 
When you saw the corner of his mouth start to raise and he started laughing softly you gave him a very confused glare and he settled his laughter and pulled you to him to kiss your forehead. When he finally spoke up his voice was soft, but calm all the same.
“You are the cutest thing I have ever seen right now, angel,” 
When you scoffed and moved to get off of his lap his arms held you tight and he pressed you to him once more. 
“M’not laughing at you I promise. It’s just funny to me tha’ you think I don’t feel the exact same way about you. I don’t even know how m’hiding the fact that my hands are shakin’ right now. This is just as big a deal as it is to you, to me, love. I promise you that. I never thought I’d be able to hold you like this, or have the chance to make you feel as good as you make me feel, without even touchin’ me. I’d be okay just to look at you from across the same room. This is not a one night thing for me, love. Never will be. I could never walk away from you now that I know what its like to kiss yeh and feel your hand on top of mine. Not when yeh look at me the way that you do. Now that I know what it’s like to be loved by yeh. Really loved by yeh.” 
Harry was smiling so softly at you and he had his tilted trying to see if you were still in there and hadn’t gone unconscious from him again confirming that yes, he did love you too. 
When you still didn’t say anything he started again. “I love you, angel. I’ll say it however many times y’want me to and in as many languages as yeh want. It’s you and me, yeah?” 
Your response was leaning forward and kissing him, hard and you both melted into it. 
The next few hours consisted of breathy moans and I love you’s mixed in between harsh breaths and his hands on your hips and your mouth and just about everywhere else. Over and over again he made sparks shoot up your spine and your toes curl and your heart ache over how attentive and gentle, but rough and passionate he was to your body. When you finally separated both of your voices were spent and he pulled you into him and more I Love You’s were exchanged mixed with happy, overwhelming tears and shakes of his head in disbelief. 
**
The next morning as you sat in his kitchen donned in his one of his t-shirts and you watched him whistle why he busied around the kitchen making you breakfast. You sat there, teary eyed, sleep lines still on your face you had never felt more lucky than you did right in that particular moment Harry was singing his own rendition of “You Make My Dreams Come True”, and as cheesy as it sounds, he had no idea how true that was. He made you a cup of coffee and was sliding by every few minutes to steal a strawberry flavored kiss because he just couldn’t help it. Your rare moment of bravery and complete and accidental inner monologue delivery you had spewed out just a few weeks ago, got you here. With this man. You decided to jot something down in your memory. 
Reminder: Sometimes you have to just say how you feel. No matter how scared you are, no matter how genuinely terrified you are of the repercussions, you just have to say it.  Say it again and again until they hear you. Being vulnerable is scary, I won’t lie to you, but it is also one of the best parts about being alive. We have the ability to make people laugh, and smile, and we have  the ability to make them feel our love. That is not a small feat. It is a privilege. Let the people you love, know that you love them. The rest of it doesn’t matter. 
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gruviafan-forever · 4 years ago
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SENSEI, MY LOVE
PART- II
It had been a week since summer vacation started. Luckily, Juvia and Meredy didn't have to attend any supplementary lessons for the rest of the vacation.
Gray and his friends were assigned to take those lessons for two weeks.
As Juvia laid on her bedroom daydreaming about how to spend some time with her beloved after his work got over.
"Another one week to go" Juvia sighed and took her mobile to check her WhatsApp messages.
There was a text from her beloved which perked up her mood. 
" Hi Juvia
  Hope you are doing your homeworks. I was busy for the past few days that's why I couldn't text you back. Sorry for that Juvia. 
  And I was thinking about going for a three days trip to a mountain resort.
 From next week, I will be free. So are you okay with it?"
Seeing the text, Juvia was over the moon. This trip was going to their very first trip as a couple.
Moreover, it's an idea from her Gray-sama. So she being excited is an understatement.
Soon, she sent her reply. Before she could see Gray's reply, her mobile got shut down due to low battery.
"Juvia can't wait for it. Juvia and Gray-sama doing couples like things…" 
Her imagination ran wild which lifted up her mood for the rest of the week until the day of the trip.
Within a blink of eyes, a week has passed. Now Juvia was all set to enjoy their much needed getaway trip, just she and her Gray-sama, out alone in mountains where they could create new memories.
Juvia wore a summer dress which Lucy and her sister-in-law had brought while they went shopping for their respective trips. She was happy for them as well.
As she checked her overall makeup which was good and subtle. Soon the doorbell rang.
"Looks like Gray-sama has come." She beamed with happiness and turned off the gas supply and main switch and finally took her luggage and keys.
"Coming… Hello Gray-sama" Juvia greeted him with a wide smile. Gray smiled back and kissed her forehead.
"Hi Juvia, ready to go.."
"Yes Gray-sama…" Once they got down. The smile on Juvia's face fell when she saw her brother, sister-in-law along with Natsu-San and Lucy-San.
They greeted her warmly but Juvia simply stared blankly at them. She caught Gray-sama's t-shirt and leaned towards his ears.
"Gray-sama, didn't you say we were going alone?"
Gray raised his eyebrow and looked at her and flicked her forehead, "I never mentioned about going alone. Looks like you didn't see that P.S.part. Naughty girl!!" 
He smirked at her which made Juvia completely forget about her angry state and blushed.
"Come guys, we don't have much time.." Jellal called out to them.
"Onii-chan, you are a meanie.." Juvia showed her tongue out which made everyone laugh.
Jellal smiled, "Yeah!! I won't allow you both to be alone until you graduate. And I can't believe that Stripper.."
"Hey, I heard you.." Gray growled and got inside the car with Juvia by his side.
#
They reached their destination after two hours of drive. The mountains were quite cool compared to the main city.
As they got checked into the inn, Jellal had booked two rooms, one for the girls and another for boys which Natsu didn't expect.
"Okay, now we had our lunch. We are to go around. So, you guys wanna go around as a pair or as a group?" Jellal asked them.
But except him, everyone voted for a pair combination which he reluctantly accepted.
"Just chill, Jellal. Let those two have some quality time. Bye guys" Erza took off with her husband for sightseeing.
As the pairs parted away, Juvia hooked her arms with her Gray-sama and strolled around the nearby area. 
"Gray-sama, Juvia can't believe we are walking like a couple now. Juvia's simply so happy. But it would have been better if it was only us." 
Gray chuckled, then, threw his arm over her shoulders pulling her much closer.
"True, even I feel the same. But your brother was adamant. It was like either with us or no trip at all. So, I chose the first. It's better with something than nothing. Come, let's forget about it. So, girlfriend, what do you wanna do now?" Gray asked and looked around before planting a kiss on top of her head.
Seeing her Gray-sama being this lovely and carefree made her wonder how he had become something like this from being ignorant.
It had been a week since Christmas eve. Since the time Juvia left her sensei's house, her thoughts were only occupied by Gray and his mesmerising smile.
When she disclosed what had happened with her on that day to her best friend, Meredy. And how their maths teacher showed a very different side of himself.
Meredy couldn't believe whether her friend was telling the truth or was hallucinating about something like that. But she chose to confirm it with her own eyes.
Once the school began after the holidays, things got back how it used to be before.
Gray was very strict with his students and gave them assignments with a short period of completion time.
Meredy couldn't believe this was the same person Juvia mentioned.
Meredy could sense her bestie was acting differently towards their maths teacher. She knew anytime the love bomb would be dropped on him.
Currently, Meredy and Juvia were having their lunch on the terrace. As it was still winter, it was practically empty except for them.
"Meredy-chan, how's Lyon-san doing?" Meredy blushed on hearing her boyfriend's name and told Juvia how she had spent her Christmas holidays with him at his hometown.
"So Juvia, now you have reconciled with your brother? Are you still staying in that apartment?" Meredy asked her friend. 
When she heard about this, Meredy was genuinely happy for her friend, as she got back with her family.
"No,Juvia is still staying in that apartment. Juvia doesn't want to impose on onii-chan and onee-San. That's why Juvia decided to stay alone even though they insisted. But during the weekend, Juvia stays over there."
"That's good to hear" Both the girls turned their heads towards the direction of the new voice which belonged to Gray sensei.
Juvia smiled at him while Meredy greeted him.
"What are you girls doing here? Don't you feel cold?"
"Sensei, we could ask you the same. Moreover, last period, we had P.E. class. So, it's okay for us. Isn't it, Juvia-chan?" Meredy looked at her friend who nodded in agreement.
"Then, it's fine. I'm on my break." Gray went near the railings and began to light the cigarette.
Suddenly, Juvia got up and went near her sensei. She caught hold of his wrist which startled him and Meredy as well.
"Sensei, Juvia knows you are an adult and you know what you are doing. But Juvia doesn't want you to fall prey to these cancer sticks. It's not good for your health and life. Please think about it."
She took the lit cigarette and stamped on it while throwing away the packet which was on his hand into the dustbin.
"Well, may I know why you care about me? It's not that we are some best buddies. I'm your teacher and you are just my student. Don't repeat such things again. And don't get full of yourself." Gray said in a harsh tone and began to move towards the door.
"Juvia will do it every time. She sees you doing it. Juvia cares for you, sensei. You saved Juvia and helped her gain back her self-respect. Juvia doesn't care if you are being rude to her but she will never stop loving you."
Hearing her words, Gray stopped and Meredy was dumbfounded. She didn't expect her friend to straight away confess to their teacher.
Meredy had paid attention to Gray to see his reaction and just hoped that he wouldn't complain to the principal.
Gray just left then without saying anything. Meredy felt her hunch was going to happen soon.
"Hey Juvia-chan, what's with this confession? Did you really think what would happen after this? I'm sure he will report it to Mrs.Fernandez and the principal."
Meredy was ranting out her fear but Juvia remained determined not to lose hope after coming this far.
Throughout the afternoon, Meredy was hoping that Gray sensei mustn't have reported about Juvia and till that moment, they didn't receive an announcement which was a good sign.
Last period, it was maths. Juvia was determined not to feel nervous. When Gray entered the class, he looked everywhere except towards Juvia.
As Gray was solving a problem on the board, Juvia was looking at him and was thinking of ways to make him understand her feelings for him.
Juvia knows it's childish to fall for someone who just because they saved you from one crisis. But when she heard of his back story from her sister-in-law, she knew he needed to be saved from the darkness.
"Ms.Locksar"
Gray's voice removed her from stupor.
"Yes sensei" Juvia stood up.
"Why don't you come up here and solve this problem?"
'If only, Juvia had looked at this solution' She thought to herself and went up to the board.
She tried to solve a bit but couldn't proceed further which made her a laughing stock in front of the class.
"Ms.Locksar, if you had paid your attention while I was teaching you would have solved it. Don't waste your time day-dreaming about impossible. Hope you understand it… Now get back and focus on your studies.."
Gray sent her back and hoped she had understood his answer for her confession.
Once the class was dismissed, Juvia informed her bestie to go ahead while she had some business to be attended.
"Juvia-chan, if sensei does something don't worry.. You don't lose your hope." Meredy patted her shoulders and left them.
"Gray sensei"
Juvia called out to him just before he went towards the door.
"What do you want, Ms.Locksar?" Gray said nonchalantly.
"Juvia wants to hear your answer for her confession. Juvia said she loves you." Juvia said confidently and waited for his response.
Gray laughed which hurt Juvia's sentiments.
"Seriously, you are a kid. See I'm a teacher and 22 years old. You are just 17. At this stage, what you are experiencing now is just mere fling. Just 2 weeks back, you were in love with a jerk and now with me. What am I a fool to believe in this child's play? 
      See I don't fall for highschool students. Just consider this as a warning. Next time, if you do something like this again, I won't hesitate to report it to your brother and principal."
Gray left her after making his point clear. He just hoped that she wouldn't bother him again.
But Gray's calculations went wrong, his warning in turn boosted Juvia's confidence and didn't hesitate to convey her feelings for him through her actions.
Once Lucy tried to advise Juvia about this but Juvia considered her as a love rival and began to worry about how to compete against such a lovely lady. But Lucy confessed that she and Natsu were dating.
It was during Valentine's week that Gray heard Juvia talking highly about him to her bestie.
'I just saved her. What's so special about that?'
"Meredy-chan, Juvia loves him wholeheartedly. She doesn't feel this to be a fling. Why can't sensei understand this?" Gray could hear her crying while Meredy was trying to comfort her.
He could sense the sincerity in her words but he was reluctant to start a relationship with her so that it doesn't harm her future.
Gray would be lying if he said he didn't ever consider her a love interest. Moreover, he doesn't want to know how Jellal would react to it.
As the valentine's day approached girls began to swarm around him to know whether he was single or not and whether he would accept chocolates from them. 
Seeing this Juvia's confidence began to flicker because Gray was actually entertaining them by answering their questions with a smile which Juvia believed he only showed to her.
Valentine's day arrived the girl students were hyperactive in finding Gray sensei but Mrs.Erza Fernandez made sure no such drama occurred inside the campus.
Juvia was finding time to give her chocolates to Gray but she couldn't. And the only option was to give in his class last period.
Meredy throughout the day encouraged her friend and not to give at this point.
Once the maths period got over, the girl students didn't leave the room and wanted Gray to accept their chocolate which he didn't and shushed them away smiling.
"If you girls, don't go now… I have to call Mrs. Fernandez." 
Hearing the name they flew away soon until he was left with Juvia. Gray was waiting for Juvia to come close to him but she never went towards the door.
"Aren't you trying to give chocolate to me? Did you lose interest in me that soon?" Gray said with a smirk.
Juvia turned around to look at him, "Sensei said he isn't going to accept any chocolate from students."
"Well you never consider me as a sensei then means I can also not consider you as a student." Gray smiled and looked at her.
Juvia started blankly trying to process what he meant with those words. Once she understood, her cheeks flushed making her look adorable.
"Come on, give me my chocolates. I never said I won't accept Juvia's chocolates."
"Sensei, does it mean what Juvia thinks?" Juvia asked with hope in her question.
Gray smiled and nodded in agreement. Soon Juvia fished the chocolates which she made for her love interest from the bag and handed over to him.
It was a heart shaped chocolate which Gray gladly finished. He was surprised how tasty and delicious it was.
"Did you add wine in it?"
"Yes, Juvia thought sensei might like the flavour of wine. So do you like it?"
"Yes, I love it. Thank you for giving me chocolate. And I don't think there's any harm in trying a relationship with you. Don't worry, if anything happens. I will take responsibility for everything.
   So Juvia, do you like me?"
"I love you, Gray-sama. Can Juvia hug you?" 
Gray smiled at her and opened his arms which Juvia understood and happily complied to embrace her love interest.
"Juvia seeing your honesty and determination and not to forget your dedication towards relationship made me fall for you.
     It would be wrong on my part if I didn't acknowledge my feelings after realizing my love for you.
      I love you, Juvia. Sorry for this wait…" Gray confessed his feelings which made Juvia beam with happiness.
Back then, Juvia didn't know how much her Gray-sama loved her. But now, she's certain that he loves her a bit more than anything else.
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seasonsgredence · 5 years ago
Text
Colin Farrell on life and parenting in a time of COVID
How much has fatherhood changed you?
It changed me. I mean it changes me every day. I don’t know what I am doing most of the time, slash all of the time. But I adore my boys, I love them very much. And I just hope I am not f****** them up too much to be honest with you.
I think if all of us can be a little, can f*** our children up a little less than maybe we were f***** up by our parents, if that can be the bar for success, when then eventually we will continue to move in the right direction, the direction of healing and the ability to self-govern with kindness and decency and consideration.
But yeah, my kids are masters. With the love I have for them and the concerns that I have for them and the hopes that I am treating them decently, they bring up a lot of stuff, a lot of fear and a lot of self-judgment, because it’s by far the most important thing of course that I have in my life.
This whole acting and stuff and movies, don’t get me wrong, I get meaning. I am one of the fortunate people on this earth who gets a certain amount of meaning from my work and self-indulgently I get off on what I do sometimes and even when I am uncomfortable in it, it has meaning for me.
But being a dad to those two boys is by a long shot the most difficult and the most rewarding and the most meaningful and the most consequential thing that I will ever do. And time is going fast. It’s moving quickly. I don’t know about you, do you find yourself going back into old photos and videos through your phone at this time? Do you find yourself being nostalgic, I would imagine a lot of us are. Yeah, I have done that a lot in my bed, like three o’clock last night and this morning in bed I was looking over videos of both of my boys when they were four and eight and now they are ten and sixteen and it’s just all going so quickly.
So as I said, in the vacuum that I have been fortunate enough to live in — which is the vacuum that involves a home, a fridge and freezer full of food, and a few dollars in the bank and everyone in my life that is very close to me healthy — I have found this an incredibly rewarding time because it has allowed me and family to spend time together that we wouldn’t have had if I was still in London shooting “Batman.”
Having said that, of course I would give that up readily, the time I have had, that gift, I would give it up for all the lives that had been lost to be back on the planet and for people not to have experienced the degree of pain. But we have been dealing with what we have been dealt.  And it’s an incredibly difficult time and an incredibly complicated time with struggle and pain and loss, but I would hope those of us who can really just move forward with a greater degree of patience and a greater degree of consideration for each other.
What do you most about normal life these days?
One thing I noticed in the first, because I came back from London, I was doing something there, and I came back and went straight into two weeks here. And I was two weeks alone in this house. I don’t have a partner, my two children were with their moms.  And so I was alone here for two weeks.
And I just remember after about nine or 10 days, feeling the absence of touch in my life. And that was the most significant moment I had in relation to the awareness of something that was lacking that I was very used to having, just touch.
And I literally mean handshake with the barista in the coffee shop down the road, a hug with a friend, a high five, knuckle bump, whatever it may be, I had had, and it’s only 10 days. But because of the degree of enforcement or the degree of imposition, like this has been imposed upon everyone and none of us have had a choice, solitude is not as chosen for those who are living in solitude now as it may be. It’s something that is an affliction.
So because of that, my point being, I have probably gone a week before in my life without touching anyone, perhaps, maybe not, but because of what was happening in the world and because of my awareness of why I was living without touch. It became something very extreme and something that I felt that I was really missing and really lacking.  And just, what does touch represent? It just represents tenderness, it represents human interaction and it represents a sense of community.
And so that was the thing that I missed and I just realized how grateful I am and I would like to hold onto it as much as I can and how grateful I am to be able to go down to the shop and get a coffee. And the idea of going to a cinema, and I know there are bigger things at play with the world, but the idea of actually going to a movie theater, standing in line at the concessions and getting popcorn and a soft drink with my kids or a friend or on my own — It’s like another world that I can’t even, just the idea of it, there are so many simple banal things that we get to experience in our lives every day that we don’t, as often happens, the lack of having them exposes the magic or the worth that they provide us.
But touch definitely is something that I miss; being able to shake a hand or give a friend a hug, just that. And that is why I imagine, I have friends who are older than me that have mothers and fathers who are way up in years who haven’t been able to see their mothers or fathers and haven’t been able to touch them and have waved through windows and that’s been heartbreaking to see.  And we’ve seen those images all over the internet and it’s been a very tricky time for so many.
What did you learn about yourself during this period of reflection?
Yeah, that I can be, I don’t think I learned this, I think I probably knew this, but I can be grumpy blech, but I probably maybe possibly, one hundred percent, identify my worth with external things in my life more than I would like to.
I find that because the routine or the work that I had done or was doing, all that has been taken from my life, has allowed me to identify how much I see my worth with acting or with doing, with being active. And now, you see it online. Everyone is trying to figure out what to do. Somebody is learning a new language. Somebody is picking up an instrument. Some people are doing this, that or the other. Some people can’t get out of bed. Some people are eating too much. Some people are exercising loads.
I find myself having to lean into just my thoughts, my imaginations, my fears again, hopes, all these things that I have used life to distract myself at times, not all the time. But the busyness of life that I have used at time, understandably as we all do, to distract myself from other kind of internal agitations, those internal agitations have had a chance to come rearing to the fore.
And yeah, like many people, if I am not doing, doing, doing, I find it hard to sit in the consideration that my life has worth. And of course it does and I believe everyone’s life, just by virtue of having breath in the body, everyone’s life has worth, human life has worth, animal life has worth, planet life has worth, life has worth.
But sometimes with this kind of at times toxic awareness that we have, toxic consciousness that at times we have, that is so kind of imbued with an ability to judge the self harshly, sometimes we do and sometimes I lean into the “external forces” as markers for my own self-worth.
And these are things that can be taken away from you anytime, so my worth is reliant on those things. My worth is reliant on delusion or those which can be removed from my existence at any moment. So by not getting work again and say that it all goes away tomorrow, then I am going to be like shit, I have no worth, and that’s not, I don’t even believe that and a relationship with myself feels like that might be true.
Can you talk about how it felt getting into the Penguin costume in “The Batman” movie?
It’s all exciting. To be a part of that universe and just there are certain words that are part of my internal lexicon: Gotham City, Penguin, Joker, Batman, Bruce Wayne, Harvey Dent, all these things.
Tim Burton’s Batman was kind of my, no, I watched the Adam West TV show growing up actually as well. So Batman as a kid, yes very much, not in comic book form but the TV show I watched ardently when I was a child.  And then in my teens I saw Burton’s version and loved it.
And then obviously I was a huge fan of what Chris Nolan did with that world and how he brought it back to life and gave it an immediacy and a contemporary significance.  So just to be part of, again that folklore, that mythology, is again really cool.
I had only started it and I can’t wait to get back. The creation of it, the aesthetic of the character, has been fun and I really am so excited to get back and explore it. And I haven’t got that much to do. I have a certain amount in the film. I am not all over it by any means. But there are a couple of some tasty scenes I have in it and my creation and I can’t wait to get back. Yeah, I totally feel like it is something that I have not had the opportunity to explore before. It feels original and fun. But I am only at the start of the journey so I can’t wait to get back and really get into it.
[x]
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